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mytherapyisreading14 · 30 days ago

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Profiling the Obvious

Summary: Kevin’s unexpected “man-to-man” talk with Rossi sets off more than just gossip — it gives the team exactly what they need to start teasing you and Spencer. A quiet moment turns into something more, and in a bullpen full of profilers, keeping feelings a secret? Not a chance.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Category: Fluff

Warnings: None, this is just pure Fluff!! <3

Word Count: 3,8k

Author‘s Note: I got the idea when I rewatched S3 E14 (the whole Rossi caught Kevin and Penelope drama when he wanted more information about that one case that happened 20 years ago). I hope y‘all like it!! :)

“Pretty Boy, how was Connecticut?” Morgan asks as he drops his go bag on the floor. “Ultimately uneventful,” Spencer says before he turns around to Rossi. “Sir, there’s somebody waiting to speak to you in your office,” he continues and points to Rossis office. Kevin is there, sitting on a chair, standing up when he sees that the team finally arrived.

You turn around to JJ, both of you grinning. Penelope told you earlier that day what happened between her and Kevin - and that Rossi made an unexpected visit at her apartment when they were in the shower together. He wanted to get more information about the crime that haunted him for more than 20 years and it couldn’t wait anymore.

You all watch the situation unfold. “Agent Rossi, we need to talk. About Penelope. Man to man,” Kevin says nervously. Emily and Morgan exchange a confused look, they have no idea what’s going yet. “Man to man,” Rossi says with a smile before he goes up to talk to Kevin.

“What about Penelope?” Morgan asks curious. “I don’t know,” Spencer says, just as confused as Morgan. You and JJ exchange a look before both of you start to sing “Garcia and Kevin, sitting in a tree…” you laugh when you see their shocked expressions. “Get out of here, you’re serious?” Morgan asks.

“Just when I thought nothing scandalous was ever going to happen around here,” Emily says with a excited grin on her face. Spencer still looks confused, he seems to miss something here. “What? What does that mean?” he asks. “Didn’t you hear them sing?” Emily asks in disbelief. “The song meant something? No, no I missed it,” he says.

You can see that he’s trying really hard to figure out what exactly he’s missing here. “Yeah it…” Emily starts but then she hesitates and stops. “You know what, never mind,” she says and starts to pack up her things. Morgan playfully hits Spencer’s head. “Come on boy, you’re a genius. That’s easy to figure out,” he says and grabs his bag, getting ready to leave too.

Meanwhile you, JJ and Emily can’t stop laughing when you see how confused Spencer is, still trying to understand what’s going on. “We’re leaving now, see y’all tomorrow,” you say and wave them goodbye.

The sun has long dipped below the horizon when you, JJ, and Emily step out of the building. The air is comfortably cool, the kind that makes the end of a workday feel almost peaceful. For once, the world feels still. You are happy that you solved the old case today, especially because you know how much it means to Rossi.

“I mean, I love Spencer,” JJ interrupts your thoughts. She zips up her jacket, “but how can someone be that smart and still completely miss the most obvious social cues?” Emily laughs, rolling her eyes. “Seriously. The guy can solve complex ciphers in his sleep but can’t figure out a basic playground rhyme?” You laugh with them, trying to keep your grin in check - unsuccessfully, of course.

“Maybe he was distracted,” you say, trying to sound casual. JJ gives you a knowing look. “Distracted, huh? Would the distraction happen to have gorgeous hair and a laugh that makes him smile every single time?” she teases. “Ohhh, yes,” Emily chimes in. “The FBI should start offering classes: How To Talk To Your Crush When You're A Literal Genius But Still Adorably Clueless.”

You pull your coat tighter around yourself, trying to hide behind your coffee cup. “You two are ridiculous,” you murmur, your cheeks already red. JJ arches an eyebrow. “You are so in love with him,“ she says and grins. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,“ you say, but you know she’s right.

“Please,” she scoffs. “You know all his favorite authors. You binged Doctor Who last week and complained the entire time - but you still watched it. And when he walks into a room, you look like someone’s playing a secret love song in your head.” You open your mouth to argue, but stop. You know they’re not wrong.

Emily smiles, softer this time. “It’s cute. Honestly? I think he needs someone exactly like you.” You’re about to answer - maybe even admit it, just a little - when you suddenly freeze. “Crap. My keys,” you groan, patting your coat pockets. “I left them on my desk.” JJ smirks. “Sure. Is that all you left in there?” You shoot her a look and start heading back inside while Emily cackles behind you.

Most of the lights are off. The usual buzz of agents is gone, replaced by silence and the low hum of the lamps. That’s when you see him. Spencer sits alone, hunched slightly over his desk. One hand rests against his cheek, the other writes something down in the corner of his notebook. He’s completely lost in his own world.

He notices you when you get closer. “Oh, I thought you left,“ he says surprised. “I did, but I forgot my keys,“ you say and smile. “Ah,” he says, returning the smile - soft and shy - it makes your stomach flip and your heart beat faster. “I’m also still... trying to figure out that song,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “The ‘sitting in a tree’ thing.”

You sit lightly on the edge of your desk, playing with the keys in your hand. “You mean the one we sang about Garcia and Kevin?” He nods. “I know it’s a rhyme, but I don’t really get why you’d sing that when two people...” he starts “...have a thing?” you finish for him, grinning. His ears turn a little pink. “Yeah. That.”

You lean in just a bit, voice soft. “It’s kind of a playground way of saying two people are into each other. Like... they like each other. Even kissing.” He processes that for a beat, his eyes thoughtful behind his lashes. “So the song was a sign that Garcia and Kevin... are now together?” he asks. “Mmhmm,” you hum. “It’s a silly song. But also kind of cute.”

He nods again, more slowly this time. “I never learned how to... recognize that stuff.” There’s something so honest in the way he says it. Vulnerable, like a door he rarely opens is cracked just enough for you to peek inside. You smile gently. “You recognize a hundred patterns a day that no one else does. Maybe it’s just... a different kind of pattern.”

He looks up to you. His gaze lingers longer than usual. “Do you think...” he starts, then hesitates for a second. “Do you think I’d be able to recognize it if... if it involved me?” Your breath catches for a second. You want to say a thousand things. You want to tell him he already does. That he’s halfway there. That it’s been there, growing quietly between you both for months.

“I think if it involved you... I’d probably have to be the one to sing the song,“ you say boldly. His eyes widen just slightly, and then his smile returns. “Would you?” he asks, barely above a whisper. You nod and grin. “I might even start now. Spencer and I sitting in a tree…” He chuckles and for a second you both just sit there - quiet, smiling, the air between you softer than ever.

Then, without thinking too much, he shifts a little closer. “You know... I’ve never really done this. The flirting thing. Or the... song-worthy kind of thing.” You tilt your head, heart thudding just slightly louder. “Then maybe this is the part where we figure it out together.” His hand brushes lightly against yours on the desk. Not an accident. And this time, he doesn’t pull away.

Spencer’s hand lingers against yours, his fingers brushing gently over your skin. It’s tentative, like he’s still not sure if this is real - if he’s allowed to feel what he’s feeling. But then, slowly, he intertwines his fingers with yours. You look down for half a second, a soft smile forming before your eyes find his again. He’s watching you so carefully, like he’s waiting for any sign to tell him he’s not making a mistake.

You give the smallest nod, barely noticeable, but enough. And then - he leans in. It’s slow, almost hesitant. Like he’s giving you time to change your mind. Your heart races, the space between you shrinking. You tilt your head just slightly, your lips parting as the moment settles in but right before your lips touch -

The office door swings open. You both snap apart like teenagers caught by their parents. Rossi and Kevin step out, mid-conversation, but they stop when they see you. You’re still sitting on the edge of your desk. Spencer’s still leaning forward, clearly way too close for a casual chat. There’s a beat of silence. Then Rossi looks at Kevin. Kevin looks at Rossi. And they both grin.

Your face goes hot in an instant. You jump to your feet and grab your keys off the desk. “Right, um, that’s what I came for. My keys. I got them. So... I’m going now.” Spencer, very clearly blushing, fumbles to close his notebook and shove it into his bag. “Y-yeah, me too. I should, uh... I should probably—go.” Kevin tries to hide his smirk, not very successfully.

Rossi just raises an eyebrow at you both, his voice casual but far too amused. “Long day, huh?” he asks. “Yup!” you squeak, already halfway to the hallway. “Very long. Okay. Goodnight!” You hear Spencer mumble something that vaguely resembles goodnight as he rushes to catch up. Behind you, as the elevator doors close, you swear you hear Rossi chuckle.

The scent of fresh coffee fills the air as Penelope strolls into the break room, her signature bright and colourful outfit standing out against the muted tones of FBI suits. She’s carrying a huge mug and grinning like she knows something no one else does - which, of course, she does.

JJ is already sitting at the table with Emily, sipping her coffee. You’re at the counter, adding a splash of cream to yours, when Penelope speaks. “Ladies,” she says, in a tone far too mischievous for 8 a.m. “You will not believe what Kevin told me last night.” Emily perks up instantly. “If it’s drama, please continue.” JJ leans forward. “Oh no. Is this about the Penelope-Kevin-Rossi surprise saga?”

Penelope waves a hand. “No, no - that’s old news. This is better. Apparently... when Kevin and Rossi walked out of his office last night -” she pauses for dramatic effect, “- they saw a certain someone and a certain Dr. Reid looking very, very cozy at her desk.” Your hand freezes mid-pour. JJ whips her head toward you. “You were still there?”

You shrug, trying to play it cool. “Told you, I forgot my keys.” Emily raises a brow. “And somehow that led to almost kissing Spencer in the bullpen?” Penelope gasps, delighted. “Almost?! Oh, honey, he was definitely leaning in,“ she says. JJ’s mouth drops open in delighted shock. “So wait... you two were just - what? Holding hands and gazing longingly into each other’s eyes in the dark like it’s some kind of FBI rom-com?”

You open your mouth, close it again, then groan and hide your face behind your coffee cup. “It wasn’t like that.” Emily chuckles. “It bet it was exactly like that. Penelope grins. “Rossi and Kevin were smiling the entire time Kevin told me. Kevin literally said, ‘They jumped apart like teenagers getting caught on a porch swing.’”JJ bursts into laughter. “Oh my god.”

“Okay, okay,” you say, cheeks burning. “Can we not make this a thing please?” you ask. “Too late,” Emily says, sipping her coffee with a smirk. “I give it a week before the BAU has a new couple,“ she says. “I give it three days,” Penelope counters. JJ nods. “I give it until lunch.” You groan again but can’t help laughing. There’s genuine excitement behind their teasing. And despite the embarrassment, something in your chest flutters at the thought.

The rest of the morning you try to act like everything is normal. Like nothing happened last night. Like your entire team isn’t betting on your love life. Spencer is already at his desk. He looks up the moment you walk in. You expect awkwardness - nervous glances, maybe a quick hello and then heads buried in paperwork. But instead, he smiles.

You return it before you can stop yourself. You walk past his desk on the way to yours, and for a moment you both hesitate, hovering near each other like there’s something unsaid still hanging in the air. “Hey,” he says, standing up slightly. “Hi,” you reply. You’re proud that your voice doesn’t shake. There’s a pause. You both glance around.

The bullpen is unusually quiet. No JJ, no Emily, no Penelope hovering. It’s just the two of you. Again. “I, um...” Spencer rubs the back of his neck. “About last night. I didn’t mean to - make things weird.” You smile softly. “You didn’t. I mean... you kind of did. But in a nice way.” He lets out a small breath - half a laugh, half relief. “That’s... good. Because I keep thinking about it.” You blink. “Yeah?” He nods. “Yeah. I didn’t get to finish what I was about to do.” Your heart skips a beat.

“Maybe we just ran out of time,” you say quietly. He takes a small step forward, close enough now that his voice drops to just above a whisper. “Maybe we could try again. Sometime.” You smile, soft and full of something that’s been waiting a long time to be said. “I’d like that.” You’re both standing there, suspended in a moment that could easily tip into something more when - of course -

“Hey, loverbirds!” Penelope’s voice rings out from across the room. You jump slightly. Spencer flinches. Penelope waves from the stairs, JJ and Emily right behind her, absolutely smirking. You and Spencer look at each other, cheeks equally red. “Maybe not right now,” he mumbles, quickly sitting back down. You laugh and head to your desk, still smiling.

The morning is exhausting and not because of paperwork or a new case. It’s the teasing. Endless teasing. From the moment you walked in, it felt like there’s a spotlight following you and Spencer around the office. Every look is noticed. Every word is overanalyzed. Every accidental eye contact turns into a team-wide event.

JJ, Morgan, Emily, Penelope… even Rossi is in on it. And Spencer? He’s barely holding it together. You can practically see the internal panic whenever someone mentions “last night” or “bullpen romance” or, worse, your name followed by his in the same sentence. And yet, no one lets up.

It starts again, of course, with Morgan. “You sure you’re hydrated, Pretty Boy?” he calls out across the room. “You look a little flushed this morning.” Spencer doesn’t even respond this time. He just groans and ducks his head, pretending to read something extremely fascinating in a case report.

You glare at Morgan over your coffee cup. “You’re relentless,“ you tell him. “Can’t help it,” he says with a grin. “You two are my new favorite soap opera.” JJ strolls past your desk with a smirk. “Do you want me to start bringing popcorn? Because I will.” You shake your head, already trying to retreat into your work, but Penelope appears beside you like she’s been summoned.

“Can we just skip to the part where one of you makes a move before the tension physically breaks my screen?” Across the room, Spencer lifts his head to give you a helpless glance. Emily eyes him thoughtfully. “You know what’s funny?” she says. “Kevin said - and I quote - ‘There was something kind of unwritten about the way they looked at each other.’ Like a moment out of a movie where the soundtrack kicks in.” Spencer closes his eyes. “Oh my god.”

You sink in your chair. “This is fine. Everything’s fine.” Rossi walks by at that exact moment and offers, far too casually, “Should we clear the conference room for your inevitable confession scene?” You and Spencer both say no at the same time. The team bursts out laughing. You know it‘s going to be a long, chaotic, ridiculous morning. But maybe... exciting, too.

It’s early afternoon when you finally get a second to breathe. You step out into the hallway, heading toward the evidence room to drop off a few files, and find Spencer already there, leaning against the wall, looking like he’s doing the exact same thing - escaping.

He looks up when he hears your footsteps, and for the first time all day, he smiles without hesitation. “Hi,” he says again. “Hey,” you reply, stopping beside him. “You hiding too?” He nods. “JJ tried to slide a Hershey’s Kiss onto my desk and whispered, ‘Symbolism.’”

You laugh quietly. “Penelope asked me if I wanted her to make a love playlist for us.” Spencer shifts, a little nervous. “So… we’re not imagining it, then. Everyone really does know what almost happened.” You exhale a breath. “Yeah. They really know.” A beat passes. Then you both laugh.

It breaks the tension but there’s still something lingering between you, something that’s been quietly building for months and only just began to surface last night. Spencer’s voice softens. “I meant what I said earlier. About wanting to try again.” You look up at him, heart skipping. “I remember.”

There’s a long pause. He looks at you like he’s memorizing you. Like he’s choosing this moment, finally. “I don’t want to keep almost kissing you in the bullpen,” he says quietly. “I want to actually kiss you. Not because the team’s making jokes or because it’s expected. Just... because I want to.” You step a little closer. “Then do it.”

His eyes flicker to your lips for the briefest second and then you’re leaning in, and he’s meeting you halfway, and everything slows down. It’s not rushed. Not dramatic. It’s soft. Careful. Exactly the way Spencer always is - with his thoughts, with his hands, with you.

And when it happens, it feels like something clicks into place. Like this was always supposed to happen. You pull back slightly, eyes still closed, a small smile tugging at your lips. He’s smiling too. “So... was that our first official something?” You nod. “Yep. And you survived it.”

He laughs, brushing his fingers against yours. “Barely.” From down the hallway, the faint sound of Penelope’s voice echoes: “I knew it!” You groan. Spencer sighs. But neither of you moves away.

You and Spencer return to the bullpen pretending - trying - to act normal. It doesn't work. Not because you’re doing anything obvious. You’re both quiet. Focused. Professional, even. But apparently, your faces tell a different story.

You barely sit down at your desk before Penelope appears, narrowing her eyes like she’s analyzing security footage. She tilts her head slowly, eyes flicking between you and Spencer like she’s putting together the final pieces of a puzzle. JJ walks in behind her and freezes mid-step.

Emily follows and immediately raises an eyebrow. “Okay. What happened?” You look up. “What?” Spencer doesn’t even lift his head. “Nothing happened.” JJ folds her arms, smirking. “You’re blushing,“ she says. “I’m not,” you lie. “Yes, you are,” Penelope singsongs. “And so is he.” Morgan, now very interested, leans over from his desk. “Did you guys...?” He stops. Eyes widen. “Oh my god, you did.”

Emily drops into a chair dramatically. “It happened! Didn’t I say Friday? I was so close!” JJ points at her. “Nope. I said lunch. It is literally 1:03.” Rossi enters just in time to see Morgan fist-pump in victory and Penelope doing some sort of quiet celebration dance in the background. “What did I miss?” he asks.

“They finally kissed,” Morgan says proudly. You groan and drop your head to your desk. Spencer looks like he wants to evaporate into the floor. “We didn’t tell them,” Spencer mumbles. “How did they even -” Penelope raises a finger like she’s giving a TED Talk. “Sweetie, you came back in here looking like a man who had just been kissed into another dimension. It’s not rocket science.”

Rossi chuckles and heads toward his office. “About time,” he mutters, more to himself than anyone else. Emily smirks. “So... when’s the next kiss? Or are we waiting for the sequel?” You sit up finally, cheeks still warm. “You are all insane.” JJ winks. “And so proud of you.” Morgan points at Spencer. “You too, man. Took you long enough.” Spencer just gives a small, shy smile. And even though he’s clearly embarrassed, he doesn’t deny anything this time.

He glances at you across the bullpen, a question in his eyes. You smile back. No words needed. Penelope glances at Rossi’s office and then back at Spencer. “Oh, and by the way, you do still owe Rossi that ‘man-to-man’ talk. Just saying.” Morgan grins. “Yeah, don’t keep him waiting, Pretty Boy. Kevin's story’s still floating around.”

Spencer groans quietly. “Great. Just what I needed.” The team laughs, clearly delighted to have both gossip and an excuse to tease him some more.

From this moment on, it’s like the whole team is on a mission: Get You and Spencer Alone. JJ nudges you both together whenever possible. “Hey, you two, why don’t you double-check those files in the conference room? Privacy guaranteed.”

Penelope suddenly ‘needs help’ carrying a stack of papers - right past where you and Spencer are standing. “Oops, so clumsy! Could you two hold these for me? Thanks!” Morgan “forgets” his phone in your shared workspace and asks Spencer to grab it for him, then lingers nearby “by accident.”

Emily even volunteers to send you on a ‘quick errand’ to the evidence room... but conveniently ‘forgets’ to mention Spencer is already there. Every time you and Spencer find yourselves alone - even for just a few minutes - there’s this quiet, electric energy that fills the space.

And every time the moment almost blooms into something more, someone - usually Penelope or Morgan - interrupts with a perfectly timed comment or a sudden loud laugh. At one point, Spencer leans over and whispers, “They’re relentless.” You grin. “At least they want us to be happy.”

Spencer’s eyes soften. “Yeah. Feels like we’re... part of the family now.” You squeeze his hand gently, just for a second. “Definitely.” And somewhere in the bullpen, Penelope mutters, “Operation success is imminent.”

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x you #early season spencer

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atebyflowers · 30 days ago

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︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎︎ ︎ ︎ ︎if i wasn't so american ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎| ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎part one

[ ︎this is the intro to a series of truck driver ellie x serial killer femme fics . . . . Full credit to this tweet for the idea. photos are solely for aesthetic purposes not meant to mimic readers intended race or body. ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ butch ellie x femme reader, misogyny mentions, murder obviously, assault/sa; not in depth, but mentioned. smut (r!recieving). long reader storyline. not native in english, semi edited, but ignore grammar/punctuation mistakes. title of the fic is from this song . word count : 6.2k ]

︎ March 1st, 2000

︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ You remember the first time you actually went through with a kill like it was yesterday. He was dirty, borderline revolting when you first met him. Ending up at a truck stop after a day of hitchhiking your way through town, you couldn't help but notice him. I mean, how could you not with how obnoxious he was. Standing outside his truck loudly cat calling nearly every girl he laid his eyes on, it was impossible for you to miss him.

︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎You had a lingering hatred for the type of men that spoke to women as anything other than respectable, it burned a different type of hatred into your heart. You couldn't reason with them. Nothing in your mind allowed you to sympathize with such creatures. And now, as you walk into the truck stop for a drink, peeking through the clear windows as the occasional woman walks up and does everything in their power to avoid the pig practically loitering outside — your resolution is final. If the lord won't take these men out of this world to benefit women, it must mean he's waiting for you to take matters into your own hands. And boy were you anticipating the day you came across such an easy target like this one.

︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ "Hey misterrr" you dragged out as you leaned up against the truck beside his, drink in hand and a lightly packed bag hanging off your shoulder; containing nothing but a few outfits, a camera, a kitchen knife, spare change and a gun you swiped from your fathers closet back home. "well hey there sweet thing" he replied, looking you up and down, his eyes making sure to stare down just a bit longer than up — dirty pervert you thought. "so what brings you over here? called out to ya earlier but you walked right past me". he questioned, somewhat slurred as he placed a cigarette in his mouth. "oh nothin.. must've not heard you the first time. just wanted to see where you might be headed" you answered, putting on your best fake smile before takint a sip of your drink. "now why's that huh? y'lookin for a ride huh?" he responded letting out a puff of smoke. "maybeee .. or maybe i'm lookin to come visit you sometime". Your words were as convincing as they could be in this situation. It also helped that he was a desperate loser who'd believe anything if said by a sweet young woman. "oh really?" he chuckled. "really" you responded, widening your eyes and leaning up off the truck. "soo... why don't you write down your name and where ur heading so i'll remember who to ask for when i come knocking" you reached into your bag as you spoke, pulling out a nearly empty pen and an old notebook before handing it to him. Immediately he complied, thinking he got lucky he didn't hesitate to give you his location, even throwing in a time recommendation for you. Handing you back the notebook, you smiled at the words in rusty hand writing. Randy was his name. such a shame poor old randy had no clue what was coming his way you thought to yourself once again as you placed the notebook back in your bag, barely zipping it up before he attempted to pull you closer to him. "so tell me.. what youlookin to do then baby?" his words almost faded into a whisper as he leaned down to smell your hair, his body odor slapping you in the face before you pulled away subtly and started to walk backwards. "don't you worry about that now.. i like to suprise my dates" you replied before turning around fully to walk off — cringing at your own words as you made your way towards the sidewalk.

︎ ︎ As you made your way down the street — you came to a stop once the sidewalk started to fade into gravel. you threw your bag down at your feet and stretched out your arm. hitchhiking was nothing new to you, you had been on the road for months catching rides from strangers and debating with the voices in your head. You had a few other victims in mind before randy. Some you met at other stops, some that picked you up on the way. But there was always something in the way: too many people around, a wife and kids waiting for them at home, your conscious telling you it was wrong. for a while now, it took long sleepless nights of thinking, for you to actually develop the overwhelming urge to kill without remorse. There was nothing left for you back at home, and you had spent your entire life surrounded by males who did nothing but make being a woman seem like living hell. What good did men like Randy bring to the world? and what loss would it be without them? could taking your anger out on them really be that bad? you knew the answer to that. it was obvious. there was no space in this world for such things, and you were desperate to make sure no other woman would suffer at the hands of them. it wasn't an impulse, it was a buildup that took months of debating before you came to terms with what you needed to do.

︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ It didn't take long for someone to stop at the sign of your hand waving at on coming cars. a nice couple this time; perhaps in their 30s it seemed. luckily for you they were headed in the perfect direction, not asking too many questions about why you're headed so far up alone — the drive going by slowly in result. but you were grateful, it gave you more than enough time to draw out a plan in your head. After about an hour and a half they dropped you off at a diner not too far from where you were supposed to meet Randy — some rundown trailer park you could barely pin point on the map. Lord did he make it too easy. You didn’t go there right away. Instead, you sat in the booth of the diner for a while, until sundown to be exact. there was nothing on your mind besides carrying out what you had in mind. Randy would be the first hit to a long list of others.

︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ When the sun set and customers started to clear out, you began your trip to the promised meeting location. The walk to his trailer felt short. The directions were easy and there really weren't many people around. The park was quiet, it was hard to tell which trucks were abandoned and which had others living in them. Randy's trailer was the last one in the row, almost perfectly hidden behind all the others. You didnt take long to approach, the feeling of actually being close to someone you had planned to kill made your adrenaline rush in ways it hasn't before, there was nothing holding you back. Randy opened the door the second he heard your first knock, shirtless, he held a half-drunk bottle of whiskey in one hand. "Well i’ll be damned. ya actually showed up huh” he slurred with a grin, stepping aside and waving you in. you smiled sweetly and walked inside without wasting time on verbal exchange. Immediately upon entry, you were hit with the smell of sweat, cigarettes and alcohol. Your eyes gazed around the room, spotting porn magazines on the table and a lonesome cat in the corner.

︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ “You drinkin’ anything?” he asked, walking toward the counter, not bothering to ask what you liked — just pouring some of his half drank bottle into a terribly washed cup for you when you agreed to having a drink. you didn't actually drink it of course, it barely touched your lips as you thanked him and pretended to take a sip. “Didn’t expect someone like you to actually show,” he broke the silence, settling onto the couch, “But I ain’t complainin’ you're a sweet one" he added, a nasty smirk on his face as he continued to drink directly from the bottle. You didn't sit nor did he offer you a seat, you just stood there, leaned against the wall, fiddling with the dirty undranken glass before responding. "well.. i always try to keep my promises" you said. "mm well i sure am glad. you not like them other bitches huh darlin'?" he replied slowly, fixing himself off the couch to come over to you. The word he uses sent a rush of anger through your veins. He touched you on your arm, then slid his hand down to rub your ass. though uncomfortable, you kept your composure and let him, not wanting to fuck this up. "Randy.." you spoke just above a whisper — he didn't pull away, only responding with a grunt. "Randy.. i have a question" you continued, this time he only pulled back a little, keeping a firm grip on your waist. "hm? what is it.... ah u wanna get more comfortable that's it honey?" he questioned with the same smirk on his face as earlier. you chuckled in response, turning to reach into your bag slowly as you responded. "no... not necessarily i- just wanted to give you something i got on the road". you unzipped the bag, "oh yes? well lemme see my gift then sweetheart" he replied — and you pulled it out. a small hand gun, loaded of course, immediately causing him to step back and put his hands up. His face twisted into something between shock and amusement. “woah there now, what's this about" he asked, and for the first time since meeting him your words wouldn't come out — there was nothing in your mind besides the sound of your own heart rushing. it was beating throughout your ears, you couldn't respond, you just stood there for a moment, gun in hand and pointed directly at him.

︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ "I dunno what you think you're doin but liste-" you raised the gun towards his left side, and Randy's words were cut off with a single shot. You didn’t give him time to beg or even understand the gravity of your actions, your desire to kill was entirely too high for you to let him try and talk you out of it, or attempt to gain some sympathy out of you. You stood over him after it was done, he hit the floor harder than ever and you watched as he bled out — the cat that had been seated in the corner, scrambled to his side meowing. that was probably the only part you felt bad about, the poor and neglected cat. Once you made sure he was fully gone, kicking at his side to try and wake him, kneeling down to check his pulse — you didn't bother to clean up. It was useless when his body would most likely be there for days you thought. reaching over your shoulder and placing the gun back in your bag, you reached in at the same time and pulled out your camera — snapping a quick picture of the lifeless man before standing up. before leaving randy's trailer: you swiped his pockets and quickly rummaged through his belongings to find any leftover cash or cigarettes. once you gathered what could fit into your bag, you were headed out — but just as you were about to close the door behind you, you turned around, walking back towards Randy's body and picking up the cat that had now laid down next to him. you were a murderer yes, but the thrill of just having killed someone didn't erase your morals, you couldn't let that cat starve to death alone in there just cause you hated its owner. It was an innocent thing. and so once in hand, you left Randy there alone, the trailer park still as quiet and empty as it had been when you came — nobody around to have possibly seen you, and nobody home in their trailers who seemed to care about the loud bang that rang out earlier. lord, was it ever so easy. ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎

︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ Randy was obviously the first. You were inexperienced and had never killed before him. But once it was done, you felt nothing but satisfaction with yourself. You physically couldn't feel bad for what you had done no matter how hard you tried. After that night, you had settled down at a hotel just a town over from where you committed the act. The only thing that halted your travels for about four weeks was the brief worry that if you act again too soon you may get caught. But there was no remorse about the actual actions at hand, and that's why immediately after a month was up, and your worrying feeling went away, you were ecstatic to get back to work. You couldn't say Randy was the last; of course he wasn't. If anything, Randy opened the door to many other men like him falling victim to your sweet manipulation. you learned from him, he showed you just how easy it is to talk to the ones like him, and how much easier it was to get valuable information out of them by offering.. Well, nothing specifically. you never actually offered sex or anything to these men. But just the hopes of a girl showing up and giving them something was more than enough for them to compromise their safety unknowingly — and you thanked the gods above for making it this simple. Over the course of five months, you had killed ten other men like Randy over the course of five months — the entitled ones who thought women owed them something, the dirty ones who spoke boldly to women with no interest in them, and especially the ones with no one waiting at home for them. It wasn't as hard to cover up your true intentions when speaking to others, nor was it ever hard to find a ride towards your next victim. People were too trusting of sweet looking young girls like yourself, but you were ever so grateful for it. only ever made your job easier.

︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎

September 12th, 2000

︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ You've been sitting on the curb outside a laundromat stop in Arizona for about an hour and 30 now. it's 7:30pm on a Sunday, you're waiting for your clothes to dry after washing them. It's been 2 months since your last kill, and seven months since randy. It was fall now and the weather was getting colder, which only meant even less people roaming the streets. Even less chances of possible witnesses. Despite that, your overwhelming urge to kill quickly had worn off. with only one slip up over the last few months — an accidental run in with a local cop after a kill, who, lucky for you, 100% believed your excuse of it being “that time of the month” when he asked about the small dried blood stain on your clothing. You didn't really find it necessary to kill so fast. With no one on your ass, you could take your time and enjoy experiencing each state while killing a disturbing man you came across occasionally here and there.

︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ Your mind started to drift off before you heard boots scrapping across the bumpy pavement, swiftly catching your attention. That was the first time you saw her. She caught your attention from the get go, her auburn hair caught by the golden evening sunlight — she wore brown jeans and an old looking cardigan with a white shirt underneath. You stared at her as she stood outside the door holding a bar of clothes, digging in her jean pocket for some cash before stepping inside, you, slowly following behind. There weren't many women you came across during your killing spree. None that weren't being harassed by your next victim at least. and definitely none that looked like her. You tried to be subtle about the fact you were watching her, taking your clothes out of the dryer and placing them back into the washer as she did with hers. You didn't notice that she noticed, but neither of you said a word to each other. You were the only ones in the laundromat besides the older lady behind the counter closely focused on the tv hanging along the wall next to her. It was quiet, and beyond awkward as you both sat on opposite sides of the room waiting for the washers to go off, then switching to a dryer. You didn't tend to put a hit out on someone you were seeking a ride from, you always let fate put someone in your hands and trusted that they'd get you to where you needed without harm (the fact you had a gun and a knife, and weren't afraid to use either also helped). But there was something different about the way she carried herself that made you desperate to ask her, or at least find out where she was going. Maybe it was the fact you were touch strived, or maybe it was the fact you had been surrounded by men for months on end and wanted to have a conversation with a woman who wasn't in need of your help. Whatever it was, you always knew to follow through with your gut.

︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ Her clothes dried faster than yours. you watched again as she unloaded the dryer and put her clothes back into the bag she had brought them in, before walking out. Once she was out of the door, you rushed to be sure you don't miss her — unloading your own, still damp clothing. You waited until she was fully in her truck, keeping a slight distance as she pulled out of the parking lot. Following a few feet behind, the cool air hit your face as you stood at the end of the lot, watching her truck in the distance stop, not too far from where you stood, before it pulled into a local diner. You wasted no time making your way down the street towards the same building, determined to catch and speak to her this time.

︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ The bell above the door rang loudly as you stepped inside, a whiff of black coffee hitting your nose immediately upon entry. you noticed her the second you sat down — she was sitting alone, at a table not too far from where you were, a coffee already in her hand. there was a chance she noticed when you walked in, maybe her eyes turned to the door the second she heard the bell like everyone else did. or maybe she didn't care, either way, she didn't look up from the newspaper she had laid on her table. you didn't bother to order anything, unsure of how long she'd be there, you couldn't take the risk of being too indulged in your food and miss her. About 30 minutes passed before she stood up and tucked in her chair. She left a tip on the table and just as she was about to get away, you acted fast. "hey” you called out to her, a bit louder than you meant to which made you cringe, but it did the job — grabbing her attention. she paused with her hand on the truck door, her foot about to climb up before she stepped back down and turned slightly towards you. "Sorry, I didn't mean to yell at you just — um… are you heading out of town? i could use a ride if you got room" you asked looking over towards her open truck door, adjusting the bag on your shoulder. She stared back at you for a minute before she spoke, her emotion was hard to read which irritated something in you — after months of reading men like a book, she was the first person whose words you couldn't make out in your head before they were actually spoken. “What makes you think I’m going far?” she questioned, raising an eyebrow. You bit the inside of your cheek and sighed to yourself before answering; “ah i dunno... just figured i'd ask instead of wasting time tryna flag someone down". She looked you over again as you spoke, but it wasn't the way a man would, it was almost like an evaluation. "ya got anyone waiting on you?" she questioned, a question that confused you but you answered anyways — "no one" you said shaking your head. your response seemed to satisfy her as she nodded her head towards the passenger side. "c'mon then". it wasn't thorough, but it was enough to get you going. you wasted no time following her words, hopping inside after her and closing the door behind you. The inside of the truck smelled like pine and something metallic, old blood maybe, or just rust. The seemingly old seats squeaked under your weight as you adjusted yourself and fastened your seatbelt — taking your bag off and placing it on your lap.

︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ You were both quiet when she pulled out of the diner, and you remained quiet for lord knows how long into the drive. If you were being honest with yourself, what could you possibly say? this was the first time youd been in contact with a girl ... like her, in nearly forever. it was also the first time you ever felt something besides the thrill you got from killing. you weren't sure what the feeling was, but it was something different. she was the first to break the silence, looking at you fidgeting with your bag before she sighed and imitated a conversation. "so, what's your name?" You looked over at her, her eyes completely focused on the road now. you graced over her, noticing the way her slightly veiny hands gripped the steering wheel. "do i have to tell you" you responded, and she shrugged, "You don’t, but i did let you into my truck without running a background check. would at least be nice to know what to call ya" she responded and you hesitated. she did have a point you thought — and therefore you complied — speaking your name just above a whisper, slightly hoping she wouldn't catch it, but of course, she did. "alright then y/n. i'm Ellie.” She reached over and turned the volume up on the radio just a little after speaking, an old country song you couldn't recognize the name of hitting your ears. "Nice to meet you Ellie.. and thanks ... you know for the ride and all" you replied and she hummed in response. "how far y'lookin 'to go?" Ellie asked, her fingers tapping the steering wheel along to the along just slightly, though enough for you to notice. "not sure really. guess as far as you're willing to put up with me for". you really didn't know where you were going without a target out on the next victim. It was a weird feeling to be chasing practically nothing for once, and without fully understanding why you decided to chase it. But it was too late to back out, and there was nothing in your mind telling you to do so. How it would go from here was unknown, for once, things weren't completely in your control, there was no secret mind game to play — just fate and whatever slip of hope you had left from home.

︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ You drove mostly in silence for about another hour or two after that. The same few songs played over and over again on the radio, Ellie changing the station every once in a while, though there wasn't much change in the music itself. You stared out the window for the majority of the silence. There wasn't much on your mind to debrief about — the situation at hand didn't have much gravity to it and overall you've already gone over every possible thought about the last seven months of your life. so, you waited until Ellie eventually spoke again once she got to a red light. "Do you always hitchhike with strangers?" she asked, her voice lower than it had been before. you glared at her — trying to read whether it was a joke or an actual question, quickly giving up when you realized you still couldn't read past her. "Guess so" you answered somewhat emotionless, not wanting to give up too much detail, and she hummed again. You drove for another hour or so, before Ellie pulled into a small roadside motel, the neon sign flickering like it was struggling to stay alive. There were two other cars in the parking lot but nothing else that really caught your eye. “Alright" she spoke, pausing to shut off the radio and turn the car off before speaking again. "can either come in with me or catch another ride, m'not driving throughout the night" she said. You nodded at her and she turned to get out of the truck, you — taking an extra moment before getting out. It was already nearing 1am, so you couldn't blame Ellie for stopping. but the idea of staying alone with a stranger overnight, somehow didn't bother you as much as it should've. more so, having no prey at this moment didn't bother you either. Rather, the idea that she could possibly be the dangerous one didn't cross your mind, you only felt relief. relief that you have some sense of normalcy for a moment — as normal as being a runaway turned serial killer could possibly be. Staying at different places for months alone had its ups and downs, but you'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't miss having some sort of contact with another human being — one that wasn't on your hit list at least. and therefore, you followed behind her.

︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ The room she paid for was surprisingly clean despite the outside look of the motel itself. the curtains were stained a bit yellow and there was dust amongst the tables, but besides that nothing seemed particularly bad. The only major flaw that caught your eye — being the singular bed. the lady working at the front desk, insisting they didn't carry doubles. Ellie tossed her bag onto the chair and unzipped it slowly, pulled out a pack of gum and offered you a piece. You shook your head and sat on the edge of the bed. Your demeanour was more awkward than usual, it was slightly funny to you — the way you caught yourself being filled with such a confusing feeling after spending so long having others that way. Ellie leaned against the lone tv stand across from the bed, studying you for a moment before speech. “you ever gonna tell me why you were following me back there?” she asked. So she did notice you thought to yourself. Your natural reaction was to shrug. “I just had a feeling about you I suppose... i dunno". “feeling,” she repeated with an almost mocking scoff, “ya always go with your feelings hm?" she asked on, this time you were willing to give in slightly with more detail. Whether it was the lack of sleep or the fact you finally got a good look at her now that she was standing directly in front of you — whatever it was, made you feel a sort of desperation to be heard that you never felt before. She was still a stranger, you reminded yourself in your head. But there was something drawing you towards her that was almost magnetic. "most the time, they tend to be right" you replied. “can't say they've ever led me to... this though" you add. “this?” she asked, raising an eyebrow, her tone only got lower as the night went on it seemed. “this" you said again standing up, without really meaning to. it was unusual, like your body had a mind of its own and moved with the pace of your words. there was a rushing feeling in your blood, but for once, it wasn't the type of rush you got from murdering. This one was unfamiliar — but not the slightest bit less thrilling. You were close to her now — you didn't mean to move like that, but she didn’t back away at your movement, and you didn't think to stop yourself. For a moment, you were both still, so still it almost hurt. Then slowly, her hand came up and hovered near your jaw, not quite touching, but close enough to make you flinch at first — Ellie only letting out a soft chuckle at the sight. “you're real strange y'know" she muttered low. You tilted your head slightly which caused her lingering fingers to brush against your skin. with a small smirk you responded "yeah?", ellie nodding. "well so are you" you added, lookin down at the short distance between yours and her feet. You hadn't realized just how close the two of you got, until her hand was on your face. She reached down towards your chin, tilting your head up for your eyes to meet hers, her hand now sliding toward your jaw again. It caught you off guard, but you didn't pull back or ask her to stop as she pulled you in for a kiss. It wasn't soft or slow. It was sudden and rough, like both of you were touch strived and waiting for this exact moment to slap you in the face. her mouth tasted like gum and old coffee, but you were so in tune with her — it didn't matter, all you could do was kiss her back. So desperate, it was like you’d die if you didn’t. When you broke apart, she stared at you for a short moment, as if she was actually looking for a sign of discomfort from you. one, that of course couldn't be found — as you were more than comfortable enough now, to pull her back in for another one.

︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ellie's hand dragged down your thigh, the two of you slowly moving towards the bed — your mouths still attached with every movement. she pushed you down onto the shockingly soft mattress, her lips moving from yours and making their way to your jaw, then your neck. you let out a shaky breath in response to her take over, which caused her to lift up from your skin. she leaned down to place another softer kiss on your lips this time, before cupping your face and speaking — her touch, more gentle than you could've ever expected. it was like her skin melted perfectly into yours, spiking a feeling you longed for. "tell me if you want to stop" she spoke above a whisper, words you wouldnt have guessed, though they only made you ache for her even more. "please.... keep going" you spoke through heavy breathes, Ellie smiling just a bit at how worked up you had already become. her lips attached back to your skin, making their way across your body as her hands were rubbing up and down your thigh for a moment — before she began to toy with the fabric underneath your skirt. She didn't question you this time, your body naturally grinding up against her hand being enough of an invite as she pushed aside the fabric. "fuck" you gasped as her fingers came in contact with your cunt. she teased you for a minute, brushing a finger up and down your slit as you desperately chased some form of friction — ellie letting out a scoff in response to the image. "ya really need this huh?" she spoke, your eyes locking onto hers while she practically taunted you. "mm y-yes-" you were cut off by your own moans as she pushed apart your folds, rubbing circles on your drenched clit. "god... already so wet f'me honey" she spoke, ans you let out another whine in response. "s'all okay.. i'll take good care of you” Ellie informed, her fingers now making their way to your entrance as she lowered herself down towards your legs. her movement was gentle, enough for you to fully take in every finger she carefully pushed into you. she started off slow, pulling in and out of you and paying close attention to your expression — how pathetic you looked trying to stay quiet while she fingered you. It was hard at first, but even harder once she started eating you out. her tongue, like a magnet to your clit. she sucked on you like it was her first and last meal — like she had to savour every moment of it. "e-ellie .. god it's too much please" you whined, unsure of what you were begging for — all Ellie could focus on was how good you tasted, how good you sounded for her, completely under her strength. "you taste amazing" she mumbled, her fingers speeding up their pace as her mouth stayed attached to your cunt. "prettiest pussy I've ever had" she added, and you let out a louder moan in response, quickly shutting yourself up when you caught it. but she wasn't having it, "don't ... don do that ... wanna hear you" she ordered, and you obeyed.

︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ you moans rang throughout the walls as ellie took her time with you. eating you out with her fingers buried inside of you — it was an overwhelming sensation you never wanted to end. "el.." you couldn't make out her full name through your moans, you were more than close — on edge, but she didn't stop. "i know .. c'mon baby i wanna taste you.. let go f'me" she assured you, not that you could really hold back with the way she was fucking you. "mm it's soso good please don't stop ... i'm gonna-" you let out a mix of moans and soft whines in response to her words. and as your orgasm came over you — you caught yourself inside of your head once again. thoughts were finally becoming coherent. but they were nothing close to negative, nothing close to what you had ever thought before. you were having sex with a complete stranger. you were giving into sex with a complete stranger, and it didn't feel bad. she didn't feel bad. there was no sense of guilt or worry. you we're completely indulged in her, just as she was you.

︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ You dozed off not too long after she was done with you. Ellie, who was ever so gentle with you once you came down from your high, treating you like a vase that could crack any moment — cleaned you up with care, offering to run you a bath and repeatedly apologizing for bruises that started to form on your inner thighs. Your body was sore in a way you hadn’t felt in years. but it wasn't from running this time, it wasn't from fighting or violence — only from the touch of another. the touch you allowed to be there. It was almost unsettling how good it felt. The motel room was quiet when you turned over again. The sheets were barely draped across your hip as you drifted in and out of sleep — your eyes struggling to open fully, though coming apart just enough for you to notice the space in bed beside you, empty with ellie's indent left in it. Your breath hitched, but you didn't move. your eyes and ears came into focus slowly, but once they did — you heard it. the soft shuffle of movement at the foot of the bed. A faint rustle. You turned your head only a bit, not enough to make a noise — and that's when you saw her crouched low, her back to you. Ellie’s hands were deep in the front pocket of your bag, the sight of it making you feel as if your heart had slammed against your ribs. you were frozen solid as you watched her quickly move throughout your belongings — your breath getting stuck in your throat when she slowed down. That's when you watched her closely. ellie stood up — the edge of a photograph clutched between her fingers before she placed it on the table and leaned back down, pulling out another. then another. then another. "fuck" you whispered to yourself, closing your eyes before she could notice you awake.

︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎

this is my first fic since january ... i promise it will get better with part two. tag list ; @dykeadvocate @abigaillovestoread @mabermaple @imdrowningindispair @dyk3ang3l @ellieshothousewife @lotudolly @euph0riafilms

#🫧 sena #ellie x reader #abby x reader #abby the last of us #abby tlou #ellie x fem reader #abby x you #ellie x y/n #ellie x you #ellie the last of us #ellie williams x y/n #ellie willams x reader #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellabs x reader #ellie williams #ellie williams texts #ellie tlou

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clarii · 6 months ago

Text

Be My Baby

Summary: Eddie Munson never thought he’d fall for someone like you—the quiet one who always seemed to blend into the background. But as fate keeps pulling you together, he finds himself unable to resist your charm. When the school’s winter formal comes around, Eddie takes a leap of faith, hoping to finally win your heart.

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, a little awkwardness, shy moments, mutual pining, a touch of 80s high school angst, and a sweet, heartwarming ending.

Author’s Note: This is inspired by “Be My Baby” by The Ronettes, which is one of my all-time favorite love songs! Hope you enjoy!

The first time Eddie Munson saw you, he thought you were too good for Hawkins. You were sitting in the corner of the cafeteria with a book in your lap, your legs tucked underneath you as you half-listened to your friends’ chatter. There was something about the way you laughed softly, like you didn’t want to disturb anyone, that made Eddie’s heart skip a beat.

“Earth to Munson,” Gareth teased, snapping his fingers in Eddie’s face. “You’ve been staring at the same girl for five minutes. You good?”

Eddie blinked, shaking his head as if to clear it. “Yeah, yeah. Just… zoning out.”

“Right,” Gareth smirked. “Zoning out on her, huh?”

Eddie ignored him, but deep down, he couldn’t deny it. There was something about you that drew him in, even though you seemed worlds apart.

The second time he saw you, it was at the record store. You were thumbing through the vinyl, your fingers delicate as they flipped through the sleeves. Eddie couldn’t help but linger a few feet away, pretending to browse but really watching you.

When you pulled out a copy of The Ronettes’ Greatest Hits, his heart stuttered. He couldn’t stop himself from speaking up.

“Classic choice,” he said, leaning against the shelf with his signature grin.

You glanced up, startled, but then smiled shyly. “Thanks. I love their sound—it’s just so timeless.”

Eddie nodded, trying to keep his cool. “Yeah, it’s good stuff. You going to the winter formal? They usually play stuff like that.”

You tilted your head, surprised he’d asked. “I don’t think so. It’s not really my thing.”

“Not your thing?” Eddie echoed, pretending to be scandalized. “But slow dances, bad punch, and awkward small talk—it’s the highlight of high school.”

You laughed softly, the sound making his chest feel warm. “Maybe if I had a good reason to go, I’d consider it.”

Eddie bit his tongue, stopping himself from blurting out something stupid. Instead, he just nodded. “Well, if you change your mind… you never know.”

For days, Eddie couldn’t stop thinking about you. He’d never been one for dances or anything that screamed “traditional high school experience,” but for you, he’d make an exception.

“Dude, just ask her,” Dustin urged as they packed up after Hellfire one afternoon.

Eddie sighed, ruffling his hair in frustration. “It’s not that easy, Henderson. She’s… different. She’s not into guys like me.”

“You don’t know that,” Dustin argued. “She talked to you, didn’t she? That’s a good sign.”

Eddie hesitated, but Dustin’s words stuck with him.

The week before the dance, Eddie found you sitting alone outside the library, flipping through the pages of another book. His heart raced as he approached, hands stuffed into his jacket pockets to keep them from fidgeting.

“Hey,” he said, his voice softer than usual.

You looked up, your eyes lighting up when you saw him. “Oh, hey, Eddie.”

He shifted on his feet, suddenly nervous. “So, uh, about the formal… I was thinking, maybe you’d want to go. With me. As, like, my date.”

Your eyes widened, and for a moment, Eddie thought he’d made a huge mistake. But then you smiled, and it was like the sun breaking through the clouds.

“I’d love to,” you said simply.

The night of the formal, Eddie picked you up in his van, his heart pounding as he saw you step outside in a simple but beautiful dress.

“You look… wow,” he said, his usual bravado gone.

“Thanks,” you replied, blushing. “You look great too.”

Eddie, in his mismatched suit and messy hair, didn’t feel particularly great, but the way you smiled at him made him believe you meant it.

At the dance, the two of you stuck to the edges of the gym, laughing at the cheesy decorations and bad song choices. But then, the opening chords of “Be My Baby” started playing, and Eddie’s breath caught.

“Wanna dance?” he asked, holding out his hand.

You nodded, letting him lead you onto the floor. As the music swelled, he held you close, his heart racing as your head rested on his shoulder.

“You know,” he murmured, “I never thought I’d end up at a dance like this. But now that I’m here… it’s not so bad.”

You smiled against his shoulder. “Me neither. But I’m glad I came.”

“Yeah?” Eddie asked, his voice hopeful.

“Yeah,” you said softly. “With you, it’s perfect.”

And as the song played on, Eddie knew he’d never forget this moment—or you

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things #eddie munson fluff #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things x y/n #be my baby

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snail-day · 4 months ago

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Oh, there's such a lack of yandere nerd!gojo content out in the world. He'd be such a freaking loser dragging his poor lab partner back to his stupidly large apartment that his parents bought him (trust fund kids, am I right?) The poor son of a bitch pushes up his glasses for what has to be the fifth time in the last minute, his fingers shaking just enough to smudge the lenses. He would normally take the time to clean them. After all, this is a very special moment. However, his focus is locked entirely on you, pupils blown wide with exhilaration, his face burning hot.

He’s finally alone with you.

A free hand hovers over yours, the way a scientist might hesitate before handling a delicate, precious agar sample. But you’re not just any experiment. You’re his.

"Oh - oh, wow, you’re shaking," Gojo breathes out, voice nearly cracking from how much he’s holding back. A large, pathetic grin wobbles, too eager and lovesick. "That’s… ahhh, you probably think that’s bad, huh? But - !" Letting out a breathless, giddy laugh, barely able to contain himself. "But it’s not! It’s just your fight-or-flight response kicking in! Isn’t that amazing? It’s just pure biology - adrenaline, cortisol, your nervous system firing on all cylinders - " cutting himself off with another shaky inhale, squeezing his eyes shut for a second, he’s really trying to collect himself (and failing, he's pretty sure he came in his pants).

"You don’t actually have to be afraid, though," he continues, voice softer now, "Because I’d never, ever hurt you! Never! I mean, scientifically speaking, fear is just your body misinterpreting stimuli, and that’s kind of tragic, don’t you think?" Bright blue manic eyes flicker over you, adoringly, like you’re a rare phenomenon he’s lucky enough to witness firsthand. "Because I love you. God, I love you so much. Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for this?"

His fingers twitch, and then finally, he touches you. Just barely. A featherlight brush of his fingertips against the back of your hand, and he shudders like you’ve just sent a shock straight through him.

"Warm," he mutters, almost to himself. "Oh wow, you’re so warm." That pretty face of his is practically glowing red now, and he laughs, high, nervous, like he can’t believe this is actually happening. "I always - I always thought about this, you know? Back in class? How your skin might feel? I - I tried to calculate it once, based on average human body temperature and external environmental factors, but- but actually feeling it is so much better!"

His voice cracks at the end, and he slaps a hand over his mouth, muffling a half-sob, half-laugh. His glasses slide down again. He shoves them up with a clumsy knuckle, barely able to hold himself together.

The room is a mess of his obsessions, shelves packed with manga, figurines lined up like tiny sentinels, textbooks, and loose papers stacked in towers on his desk Complex chemical equations scrawled across a whiteboard, some of them crossing into territory you can’t even begin to understand.

One of them looks… medical. With dosages sprawled out within the Navier-Stokes equation.

Gojo’s long, pale fingers he laces over yours, and oh how his entire body shudders again, like he’s barely restraining himself from pulling you into his arms. "You - you have no idea how much I adore you," voice trembling. "I mean, did you know your hair shines under fluorescent lighting? I wrote a whole equation trying to determine the way light refracts off the strands. And the way you chew on your pen cap when you’re thinking? I- I started doing it too, just to feel closer to you - though studies show - it's like really bad for your teeth so - we should - should stop that bad habit - ah "

His other hand moves suddenly, reaching for something on the desk. A glint of silver. Your breath stutters between soft sobs.

When did he get a syringe? Wasn't he just professing his undying love for you?

Gojo blinks, as if he just remembered he was holding it. Then he lets out another one of those nervous, giddy laughs, clutching the syringe close to his chest like it’s something precious. "Oh - this? Ahaha, you - ah, you weren’t supposed to see that yet! I was gonna - " He bites his lip, gaze flickering between the syringe and you like he’s debating something. "I mean, it’s nothing bad! Just a little - just a little help! A tiny, tiny chemical nudge to help you relax! I measured everything perfectly, I promise! You can trust me! "

And oh are you starting to cry even more which causes him to freak out just a little more... "L-Let’s start over," small stammers as his manic smile widening. "I-I’ll explain it all again! In even more detail! Ohhh, you’re gonna love this!"

#sorry this had to leave my mind #i will die on the hill that gojo is a blushing mess the first time he holds your hand #you cannot tell me this man is not a pathetic loser through and through #tw: yandere #tw: possible drugging #snail yaps #yandere gojo satoru #yandere jujutsu kaisen

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roosterforme · 1 year ago

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Sundays Are for the Boys | Hangman x Reader

Summary: Football Sundays are a sacred tradition amongst Jake and his friends, and he's quick to make sure you know that. But when the boys discover your favorite drink in the refrigerator, Jake makes an exception to his rule.

Warnings: Fluff, language, a tiny bit of smut, 18+

Length: 2600 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Written for Pick Your Poison! Banner by @thedroneranger

Dating Jake came with one firm rule: Sundays were for watching football with the guys.

"I mean it," he'd told you months ago when you first started dating him. "I host every week. They come over around ten when the games start, and they don't leave until after the last game ends. No wives. No girlfriends. Just a cooler filled with cheap beer. Sundays are for the boys."

At the time, you thought it was cute that he wanted to spend the day with his friends. "That's adorable," you told him, kissing his cheek. But by the time football season arrived, Jake was already in his Dallas Cowboys jersey, shaking you awake on Sunday morning at nine.

"It's almost game time, Baby. The guys will be here soon."

You looked up at him from his bed with a little smirk. "You're really into this, huh?"

He kissed your forehead and started to pull you to your feet as you laughed. "It's a thing. I told you this months ago." He patted your bare butt as you looked around for your clothes from the night before. "It's week one, and the Cowboys play the Eagles in the early game. I love putting Payback in a bad mood."

You kissed him before you slipped your underwear on. "I know you do."

He was antsy, and you knew he wanted you to leave, but you also knew he didn't want to say it as he kissed you over and over again. "Baby, you gotta go," he finally whispered as you smiled against his lips.

"I know, I know," you replied, still amused as you finished getting dressed and packed up your stuff. "Go Cowboys."

Each week, your relationship progressed, but this little routine stayed the same. Jake would inevitably wake you up by nine if you weren't already up. He would be wearing one of his many Dallas Cowboys jerseys. He would walk you out to your car and tell you how much he loved you before you left him to entertain his friends.

But one Sunday, you woke him up with a blowjob on his birthday. And you took your time with it. Did you have a bit of an ulterior motive? Sure. But it didn't detract from the fact that you wanted him to enjoy himself, and you certainly made sure he did. He was coming hard at exactly 9:42 with his hand on the back of your head and his cock tapping your throat.

"Oh, fuck!" he groaned. "Fuck!"

You licked him clean and grinned up at him before kissing his hip and whispering, "I love you, birthday boy." Then you climbed out of bed, kissed his lips and started to get dressed. "It's almost ten. I'll head out."

You saw him waver a bit before he nodded. Then his doorbell rang, and you just knew it would be the guys starting to arrive. He kissed you deeply one more time before pulling on his blue and gray jersey and some gym shorts. "Take your time getting dressed. I'll go let them in."

"Sounds good," you replied. And twenty minutes later, after you'd fixed your hair and put on the tiniest bit of makeup, you waltzed out into the living room where there were now six guys spread out on Jake's sectional couch with an open cooler of beer on ice in the middle of the floor and bags of chips seemingly everywhere.

It was kind of fascinating, getting to catch a glimpse of this carefully curated world that he worked so hard to keep private. Your plan was to quietly sneak out the front door, but you had to stifle your laughter as you heard Bradley tell your boyfriend, "Your Cowboys look like a bunch of fucking pussies this week."

"You're one to talk, dipshit," Jake replied without missing a beat. "The Steelers are 2 and 4." He went back to sipping his beer.

"Both of you are delusional," Coyote told them as he cracked open a can and shoved a fistful of chips into his mouth.

You skirted around the outside of the room as you eyed them in their various colorful jerseys while you thought they were completely focused on the game. Then you heard Fanboy call your name. "You're leaving?" he asked, looking at you as he ate some beef jerky.

"Yeah," you said with a little laugh as Jake got up to peck you on the cheek. "You know, Sundays are for the boys and all that."

Just then, the Cowboys scored a touchdown, and Jake hoisted you up in the air as you screeched in surprise. Half of the guys groaned, and half of them cheered, but your boyfriend held you tight as he tossed aside his empty beer can and said, "You can't leave until they kick the extra point." So you just stayed there, your feet not even touching the ground as Jake held his breath, and then the Cowboys went up by one more point. Then Jake walked you to your car, nipping at your neck the entire way.

"Don't you have to get back inside?" you whispered as he filthy kissed you, pressing you against the driver's side door.

"I will," he grunted. "Feel like you're my lucky charm right now."

He kissed away all your lip gloss and messed up your makeup, but when you finally drove away, you had a smile on your face.

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

"What are these things?" Reuben called from the kitchen. Jake turned to see what he was holding up.

"High Noons," he replied before focusing back on the game. "My girl's obsessed with them. It's like a fancy hard seltzer."

"Can I try one?"

"Yeah," Jake told him, knowing he'd just replace them later for you.

Javy was currently sitting on the floor, practically in tears as the Saints gave up another touchdown to the Dolphins. Mickey's loud cheering had everyone else laughing. "Dude, you'll lose your voice again like last week," Bradley told him as he accidentally spilled potato chips all over the floor before picking them up and eating them anyway.

"It'll be worth it if the Saints lose!" Mickey cheered.

"Hey, what's that?" Bradley asked Reuben as he chugged the High Noon can and belched. "Some sort of girly shit?"

"Yeah, it's fucking good."

A minute later, everyone was drinking them, including Jake. "This is delicious," Bob muttered.

"For real," Reuben agreed. "Your girl has good taste."

Bradley snorted as he opened another can. "Not in guys." He and Reuben started cracking up at Jake's expense while he rolled his eyes.

Then Javy was on his hands and knees crawling toward the TV and shouting, "Get him! Get him! That's a fucking sack! Fuck you, Fanboy! Fuck you, dude!"

The room was in chaos as Javy ground the potato chip crumbs into the carpet. When Jake's phone vibrated, he saw it was a text from you and realized he kind of wished you were here right now.

I miss you. Are you having fun with the boys?

He smiled as he checked the time. The Cowboys game would be starting in less than an hour, and they always seemed to play better whenever you were in the room for those fleeting few minutes before you left him to his Sunday tradition. He tapped his fingers on his thigh and contemplated texting you back.

"Hey, Jake, are there any more of these things?" Bob asked, holding up his empty High Noon can. It was a testament to how good they tasted that Bob was even drinking one in the first place. He absolutely hated beer.

"I don't think so," Jake muttered, almost to himself as he read your text again. "Let me check." He started his response to you and then finished it after he looked in his nearly empty fridge.

I miss you too, Baby. Where did you get those High Noons? The boys drank them all, and they loved them. I'm going to need to stock up.

When he looked up from his phone, Javy was on his back, kicking his feet in the air, because the Dolphins had scored another touchdown. "No!"

"Hey, Hangman, you're out of chips," Bradley complained, shaking the empty bag into his open mouth before frowning.

Now Mickey was dancing around Javy on the floor as the final score of the game flashed across the bottom of the screen. His Dolphins had beat Javy's Saints, and Reuben was already changing the channel for the next game that was about to start. But you had texted back again.

Why is that so adorable? I'm just about on my way home from lunch with the girls. Want me to stop and get another case or two? Maybe some snacks? I can drop them off.

Jake grinned; even the idea of you stopping by for a few seconds made him smile. He texted you back letting you know that he loved that idea, and then he stepped over the chaos on his floor and dropped down next to Reuben. Just as the intro to the Cowboys and Steelers was starting up, Jake said, "My girl's stopping by with more of those drinks and some snacks, so please behave while she's here."

"We will," they all replied in unison, though he highly doubted that would actually be the case.

Then the game started, and they were all distracted, because it was Jake's team against Bradley's team. "Your precious Cowgirls are going down," Bradley muttered, practically licking the inside of the chip bag.

Jake realized he was hungry too as he flipped him off, and he could hear Reuben's stomach growling. The Cowboys were looking terrible in the first quarter, and now Bradley was sitting on the edge of his seat as the Steelers were poised to score a touchdown.

But then, just when you walked in carrying some fresh High Noons and a platter of hot wings, the Steelers threw an interception, and the Cowboys ran it back all the way for a touchdown. "Fuck yes!" Jake shouted, practically ripping the food and drinks out of your hands to get to you. "Come here, Baby. Come sit on my lap."

"Seriously?" you asked, clearly surprised as Jake pulled you along with him while the other guys tore into the seltzers and chicken wings like they were wild animals. Well, everyone except for Bradley who was on his knees on the floor, staring at the TV in shock.

"Thank you for the food and the High Noons," Jake drawled, grinning against your neck as he held you close. "You're the best."

"You're welcome," you replied, really getting into the game now. "Cowboys are already up?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Bradley groaned. And it just kept getting better from there. Jake got to have you snuggled up on the couch with him while he ate wings and drank seltzers all afternoon.

When you tried to leave at halftime, the guys whined for you to stay, and Jake pulled you closer to him. "Baby, no. The Cowboys have done nothing but get touchdown after touchdown since you got here. I need you to stay."

You laughed and opened a High Noon for yourself with an amused look on your face. "Alright, Jake. Whatever you need."

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

When you woke up on Sunday with Jake kissing your neck and whispering, "Time to get up," you groaned. You were still exhausted from working all week, but you stretched and slowly got out of bed. "Where are you going?" he asked, reaching for you as you stood and looked at him.

"Home?"

He shook his head like he couldn't be more confused. "Why? Baby, the Cowboys play at ten. The boys will be here soon."

"Yeah...." you replied, reaching for your clothes. "That's why I'm leaving. Sundays are for the boys."

Now he was honest to god pouting. "But, I don't want you to leave. I love watching the games with you, and the guys keep my place cleaner when you're here. They actually belch less too. Really, overall, they are much less insufferable. And besides..." he whispered, grabbing your hand and pulling you back into bed. "I think you're my lucky charm."

"Really?" you asked as he pinned your hands above your head on the pillow.

"Mmhmm," he hummed as he kissed you. "You make my team do better, and you make me happy. Stay."

You were melting at his touch. "Well, how could I say no?"

The following week, Jake was opening a seltzer for you, and when you looked around, all of the guys were drinking them. Mickey tapped his can to yours. "These are delicious. I feel so sophisticated. You're a genius."

The week after that, Javy ordered pizza only after discreetly asking what your favorite topping was. "The rest of them would eat cardboard with red sauce on top of it, but I want to make sure you get the kind you like."

The week after that, Reuben and Bob both jumped up to get you a new can when yours was empty, and Bradley begrudgingly said, "I still like you even though Jake fucking ruined you by turning you into a Cowboys fan."

You started staying later and later, and you noticed that Jake filled the cooler with fewer beers and more seltzers each week. And on the last Sunday of the regular season, the guys showed up with a sad looking, half crumpled up gift bag and handed it to you as you rearranged the pretty charcuterie board you'd been working on for them.

"What's this?" you asked, peeking into the bag at some pink fabric.

"It's for you," Javy said. "You're one of the guys now."

Jake grinned at you from the open refrigerator where he handed out High Noon cans to everyone. "You knew about this?" you asked him as you reached into the bag and pulled out a pink Dallas Cowboys jersey with your own name on the back.

"Of course I knew about it, Baby. I had to tell them your size."

"Thank you," you whispered as you looked at it, tears filling your eyes and blurring your vision. "I love it." When you looked up at them, they raised their seltzer cans in a toast to you, and you ran to Jake's bedroom to get changed.

You had your own jersey color now amongst the rainbow of teams everyone rooted for, and Jake kept you close as the Cowboys played. The cooler of slowly melting ice offered up High Noons to you and the boys, and by the time it was getting dark outside, you were standing next to the TV with your hands in the air.

"Ready?" you asked them a little loudly as you giggled, but you weren't the only one who was tipsy and silly. "Here we go!" You led them in a hideous, off-key rendition of I've been waiting all day for Sunday night. After weeks of watching football, everyone had all of the ridiculous lyrics memorized, and it ended in laughter as you curled up next to Jake on the couch.

"I love Sundays," he said, his arm slung around your shoulders. "And I love you, Baby."

You kissed his cheek and whispered, "Sundays are for seltzer drinkers."

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

You slowly infiltrated, and now Sundays are yours. Thanks @thedroneranger for making pretty mood boards like this one and letting us write about them. And thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

Don't forget to read the second part! This Sunday Is for My Girl!

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yapithoughts · 5 months ago

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You’ve been the perfect student ever since kindergarten. The school has been blessed to have you—student leader, consistent top achiever, and the school’s pride in academic competitions. Medals, awards—you’ve brought home so many. You’ve always been outstanding.

But then Nagi transferred to your school. Suddenly, everything changed.

It felt like you were perpetually in second place, and no matter what you achieved, there was always this gnawing feeling of inadequacy.

Even when the list came out, showing that you scored higher than him, it didn’t feel like a win. He always did it so effortlessly.

You sat in the front row, dedicated, writing notes and reviewing endlessly. But when you glanced at Nagi in the back, you’d always catch him sleeping at his desk, oblivious to the world. It frustrated you to no end.

During quizzes and exams, he’d still get high marks, but his carefree attitude made it seem unfair. While you sacrificed sleep and poured every ounce of energy into studying, he simply coasted. Yet he remained unbothered, like he wasn’t trying at all.

You were jealous.

Nagi noticed your furrowed brows whenever your eyes met, but he didn’t understand why. You’d never even spoken to each other. To him, you were the model student—perfect, composed, and untouchable. But he was just that guy in the back of the class, minding his own business.

When midterms came, the pressure was unbearable. You spent endless hours reviewing and juggling your responsibilities. The weight of expectations, the relentless need to prove yourself—it consumed you.

Then came the exam day. You answered the test quickly, confident in your preparation. But as you handed in your paper, you noticed Nagi did the same, just minutes after you. You glanced at him in disbelief. Was he really that gifted, or was it luck?

As the class emptied, you stayed behind to pack your things. Nagi lingered too, his feet propped up on a chair, phone in hand, looking as relaxed as ever.

Then it happened—a sudden, warm sensation in your nose.

“Huh?” you muttered as you touched your upper lip. Blood.

Nagi furrowed his brows when he glanced at you. He put down his phone, grabbed tissues from his bag, and rushed to your side.

“Here,” he said softly, handing you the tissues.

You stared at him, startled by his uncharacteristic concern. He didn’t stop there. Gently, he guided you to the clinic, one hand lightly supporting your arm.

At the clinic, the nurse tended to you, cleaning you up and ensuring you were fine. Once everything was settled, you stepped out, adjusting your bag and ready to head home.

You stopped in your tracks when you saw him. Nagi was leaning against the wall just outside the clinic, a lollipop in his mouth. He wasn’t looking at you, his gaze lost somewhere on the ceiling, deep in thought.

You tried to walk past him, hoping to avoid an awkward interaction, but after a few steps, he spoke.

“Why do you despise me so much?”

You froze, his question hanging in the air. Slowly, you turned around, meeting his confused gaze.

“I don’t hate you,” you said coldly, though your voice wavered. “I’m… jealous of you.”

His confusion deepened. “Jealous?”

You sighed, the weight of your feelings spilling out. “You’re so good at academics, but you barely try. I work myself to exhaustion, and I still feel like it’s not enough. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat—I have to push myself because of the standards I’ve set. Then you come along, doing the bare minimum, and it makes me feel… small. Like I’m stupid.”

He blinked, stunned into silence.

“I just wanted to feel like I was enough,” you continued, voice trembling. “But when you showed up, it felt like I had to work even harder just to keep up. I’ve never felt this way before.”

Nagi scratched the back of his neck, unsure of what to say. “I… I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be,” you replied quickly. “This is childish. I shouldn’t even feel this way.”

You turned to leave, but his hand caught your wrist.

“I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. Honestly, I kind of disliked you too at first. I thought you were just a spoiled rich girl who had everything handed to her. But I didn’t realize…” He trailed off, exhaling deeply. “You really do deserve the top spot. I don’t even care about ranks—” He paused, muttering to himself. “Why am I even explaining this?”

You gave a small nod, avoiding his gaze. “I see,” you said quietly, the bitterness still lingering in your voice as you turned away.

The rest of the school year didn’t go as you expected. Somehow, you and Nagi became close. He wasn’t as infuriating as you’d thought—laid-back, yes, but also oddly insightful in his own way. The tension between you hadn’t completely disappeared, but it had softened into something more tolerable, almost unspoken.

One afternoon, you found yourself sitting beside him on a bridge, both of your feet dangling over the edge.

“Do you always come here?” he asked, breaking the silence.

“Yeah,” you replied, staring at the horizon. “It helps me clear my mind.”

The golden sunlight bathed your face, softening your usually sharp features. For the first time, Nagi saw you relaxed—genuinely at peace.

He watched you, noticing details he’d overlooked before. The way your hair caught the sunlight, the faint curve of your lips when you smiled. It struck him.

“You know,” he said quietly, his voice almost a whisper, “I think you’re amazing. Not because of your grades or your accomplishments. Just… you.” He hesitated, his gaze softening. “But you should take care of yourself more. You push yourself so hard, and you don’t deserve to burn out trying to meet everyone else’s expectations.”

You turned to him, startled by his sincerity. His words lingered in the air, disarming you. For once, the competition didn’t matter. Sitting there with him, bathed in the warmth of the setting sun, you felt a sense of calm settle over you—a feeling you hadn’t experienced in a long time. It was strange, but for the first time, you didn’t feel the need to prove anything.

And maybe, just maybe, the one-sided rivalry had finally come to an end. It wasn’t about winning or losing anymore, but about understanding. You realized that chasing perfection wasn’t the only way to prove your worth, and perhaps Nagi wasn’t the antagonist you made him out to be. Instead, he was someone who challenged the way you saw yourself—someone who, without meaning to, helped you see things differently.

#academic rivals #I WANT HIM #anime #fanfics #fanfiction #manga #bllk #bllk x reader #blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock x female reader #blue lock x you #bllk x you #bllk manga #nagi seishiro #bllk seishiro #nagi x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #nagi seishiro x you

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secretlysamcro · 6 months ago

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CHERRY PIE PT. 1

Female reader x Jax Teller SMUT, explicit language, possible spoilers. if you’re under the age of 18, haven’t finished the show, or dislike any of said topics, please read no further.

Jax takes a final drag of his cigarette, his whole demeanour radiating confidence. With a slight touch of cockiness, he turns to ask you, “you really don’t think I can do it, huh?” He flicks away the butt, turning his attention back to the fair game, ready to prove his skills.

You can’t help but smile at his confidence, also amused by his unwavering self assurance. It wasn’t the selfish kind, more of a charming quality that made him even more intriguing. “Just get on with it Teller” you teased, “and if you do, I want that one” you point to the giant sized brown bear hanging from the top of the stall.

Jax turns to you, grinning victoriously as he hands you the giant brown bear. His smirk growing larger as he comments “good thing I drove the car” he adds a playful wink at the end.

You let out a coy laugh, “I knew you’d win it, just needed to give you a little push” you joked, enjoying the sight of your new prize. With a thankful smile, you express your appreciation “thank you” you lean into Jax’s side lightheartedly, an embrace without actually wrapping your arms around him.

You stroll through the fairground alongside Jax, only a slight gap in between you both. The giant teddy bear clutched in your grasp. Jax observes you closely, noticing how you seem lost in your own little world, taking in the sights and the details of everything going on around you. As you approach a narrow section of the path, it’s packed tightly with people, Jax gently places his hand on your lower back, guiding you through the waves of bodies. A protective gesture that shows his concern for your safety, and it doesn’t go unnoticed.

He leads you to a less crowded spot, pulling softly on your arm as you escape the crush of the crowd. He leans against a wall, a serious expression now on his face. “I’ve been wanting to apologise to you…” he begins to admit “…I wanted to do something more, you know… conventional but I just have some shit going on with the club and-” you cut him off quickly with a reaussuring smile.

“Jax, this is perfect… honestly, I’m really enjoying myself” you assure him, with your angelic smile.

He releases a sigh of relief, nodding his head in agreement as he realises you are genuinely enjoying yourself. He was a little apprehensive bringing up the club, he thought that it might have bothered you, having been rejected several times in the past due to his involvement with it.

Jax observes your gaze lingering on the Ferris wheel, “You wanna go on it?” He asks quietly, a small smile forming on his face.

“You’ll come on it with me?” You question, with a hopeful tone.

Jax chuckles at your answer “Do I look like the kinda’ guy to make you ride solo?” he pushes himself off the wall now, “how about we put this guy in the car first” he says as he gestures towards the oversized teddy you still have in your arms.

The line for the Ferris wheel is a little long, but the wait doesn’t seem to bother either of you. Jax stands towering behind you, his hands gently resting on your hips, guiding you subtly as the line moves forward. In that moment, is when you become acutely aware of the effect that Jax’s gentle touch has on your entire body. You take note of the tiny hairs on the back of your neck, now raised. Your breathing becoming the tiniest bit laboured and a certain throbbing sensation that is hard to ignore. The intensity of your bodies reaction throws you off slightly, you hadn’t expected such a response from a touch so simple.

"You okay?" Jax murmurs, his breath warm as he leans in, his face nestled against the curve of your neck. What you don't realise is that Jax too, is experiencing the same intense sensations. His mind drifting to other scenarios, which may involve him having his hands on your waist.

You spin round, forcing a calm breath as you try to steady your over racing heart. "Yeah, all good" you smile, although its more of a nervous curve of the lip, your mind scrambling to find something, anything to say. "When's the last time you've been on one of these then?" you ask, hoping he doesn't notice the desire taking over your entire soul.

He chuckles, a knowing glint in his eyes. He can sense something is off with you, but he cant quite put his finger on what. "Its been a while" he responded, as he tries to recall the last time he stepped foot in a fair. As president of SAMCRO, these kinds of moments are fleeting. Jax is usually tangled up in the messier side of life. You laugh softly at his response, knowing full well this isn't his usual scene. "Thought so," you tease, the smirk on your lips clearly playful.

"What's that suppose to mean?" he leans into you mischievously.

"Nothing..." you push back against him softly, the sexual tension getting thicker. "...I just know you're obviously busy with your club...and everything that comes with it" you let him know.

He nods, an understanding smile tugging at the corner of his lips and lets out a easy laugh. "Yeah... well, it ain't easy being King" he lets you know, the humour in his voice masking the weight of everything that comes with the title of President.

You look up at him, your eyes wide and innocent, the flickering fairground lights causing a soft glow. "Maybe you need a Queen to ground you" Jax is momentarily taken back, his focus shifting between the warmth in your eyes and the subtle desire in your expression as he bites his lip, responding to the unspoken tension between the two of you.

As you reached the peak of the wheel, the gentle sway of the ride somehow made the night feel more intimate. There was a warm glow highlighting the sharp features of Jax's face. His usual confidence was there, but something was different, something softer almost as if he was savouring this moment, away from the chaos of the club and simply existing in this moment, with you.

"Look at me" he says, his voice low and steady. The illuminations from below casting a warm halo around him. The intensity in his blue eyes is strong as they move between your gaze and your lips, lingering for a moment longer before meeting your eyes again. He locks eyes with you, the air thick with anticipation. He goes to close the distance between you both when the ferris wheel suddenly jolts, coming to a sudden stop and you’re both frozen in place as the first kiss you would have shared, slowly slips away.

Jax can sense your nerves, so does his best to reassure you. “Hey, look at me. It’s okay, it’ll start again in a second”. He watches as he notices the hint of panic creeping in. “Come closer” Jax says, pulling you closer and draping his arms around you in an attempt to calm your nerves. Your face is now buried against the patches of his kutte. The rough fabric scratching your skin just enough to feel it, but it doesn’t matter because you finally feel at ease.

“You good now?” He asks as you both make your way back to the car, you feel a tinge of embarrassment for how you reacted but grateful that Jax was there beside you.

You try to mask your embarrassment with a small laugh “I’m all good” you reassure him, though the stolen kiss keeps playing in your mind. As you get closer to the car, you slowly reach for his hand, a silent urge to let Jax know you wanted it too.

Jax opens the car door for you, giving you time to grab the huge Teddy and toss it into the backseat. He lights a cigarette as you’re doing so, the smoke disappearing into thin air as he watches you.

As Jax starts driving, a thought suddenly hits him, without contemplating he turns to you and asks “you wanna’ come see the clubhouse?” You laugh, glancing at him as he keeps his focus on the road, you can see the small smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You gonna give me like a VIP tour or somethin’?” You tease.

The smirk on his lips deepens as he nods his head slowly, his fingers smoothing down his beard as if he was in thought. “If that’s what you want” he mumbles, the subtle heat obvious in his voice.

“So I’m just allowed to like…walk in?” You ask, your mind racing a little at the thought of stepping into the Sons Of Anarchy Clubhouse.

Jax can’t help but find your lack of biker knowledge a little charming. “It’s a clubhouse y/n, not a god damn cult” he laughs as he answers you. “Besides, it’s my clubhouse, anyone with my invite is good to go” he adds with a grin as his hand rubs over your leg in a soothing motion, the earlier sensations flooding back, literally.

You hadn’t felt nervous until now. A few days ago, being in the Teller-Morrow garage was the closest you’d ever been into the SAMCRO domain, and now, you were about to step right into the heart of it.

Jax turns left and pulls through the familiar gates. It’s quieter than you had expected, but then again it is nearly 9pm. “Only a few of the guys will be around” he says “it’s Friday, most of them will be at red Woody” he states, as if you’re familiar with their extra curricular activities.

“Red woody?” You question, completely clueless.

Jax shakes his head laughing, “trust me, you don’t wanna’ know” He starts walking towards the entrance, his hand gently guiding you once again.

Jax swings the door of the clubhouse open, gesturing for you to step inside first. You take a deep breath, bracing yourself for a taste of a world you knew nothing about, a slice of life that is entirely foreign to you.

The moment your foot steps over the threshold, you’re hit with a thick haze of smoke and the sharp scent of liquor, wrapping you in an intoxicated embrace. You step to the side, waiting for Jax to enter, your nerves prickling against your skin as you feel the weight of the stares from wondering members and a few half-naked women drift past, their eyes lingering on you with a mix of curiosity and distrust. That is, until their eyes land on Jax, and the mood shifts instantly. The glares soften and are replaced by a hint of respect as they realise you’re with the President himself.

Jax picks up on your slight unease and without a word, reaches out. Taking your hand in his. The little gesture grounds you, his touch reassuring. “I feel a little underdressed” you joke, in a whispered tone, as Jax leads you towards the bar. He chuckles, leaning in so only you can hear “Don’t mind them, they’re just croweaters” he can tell from your facial expression that you have no idea what that means, so he adds “they’re just here to please the guys and drink the free booze” as soon as he finished speaking,he realised it came out sounding like he was one of those who actually enjoyed the company of the croweaters. “Not me though” he adds hastily, noticing you laughing as he scrambles to cover his back. “Hmm, how could I be so sure?” You retaliate, Jax takes not of your tone, certain that you’re only messing around.

“Jackie boy!” a voice echoes from around the corner, the accent is unfamiliar to you, but if you had to take a guess, you’d say Scottish. A tall man steps into view, dressed similarly to Jax, though instead of the pristine white trainers, he’s wearing rugged biker boots. His salt and pepper hair pushed back, away from his face, revealing a distinctive scar that stretches from one cheek to the other, almost like a smile.

The two of them collide into a hearty embrace, each giving the other a solid slap on the back, the sound echoing like an encore. As they pull away from the hug, his gaze shifts to you.

“And who’s this tantalising young lady?” He asks with a mischievous grin, waiting for Jax to offer an explanation.

“This is y/n” Jax says with a smile in your direction, and id you weren’t mistaken, there was a hint of pride in his tone. “And this…” he gestures towards the Scotts man “…is Chibs, my VP”

You return a friendly smile. “VP… Vice President” you say, nodding as you recall Jax explaining the title back when you came in to get your car done.

"The one and only" he chuckles, a rouge grin on his lips. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance" Chibs can feel the tension between you both and his instincts telling him that there's more to this than a one night fling. He knows its a rare thing for Jax to bring women to the clubhouse, so its clear he has more than just ill intensions.

A phone begins to ring, Chibs pulls it out, pressing it to his ear. "Yeah.." he rolls his eyes "Well, he's clearly been occupied" his tone shifts, becoming more sharper as he casts a glance towards Jax. "You might wanna take this Jackie" he says, handing the phone over to the President. Jax gives you an apologetic look, mouthing the words 'sorry' before stepping away to take the call.

Chibs turns to you, checking to make sure you're comfortable. "Jax show you our wall of fame yet?" he asks, trying to fill the silence with something light.

"He hasn't" you reply with a laugh, raising an eyebrow "Do I even want to see what that is?" You already know to expect the unexpected in this place.

He chuckles along with you. "Lets get you a drink first, aye?" he suggests, leaning over the bar. "Anything in particular?"

You're not usually much of a drinker, but then again, you don't usually spend your free time in a notorious biker clubhouse, so why not? You scan the bar, searching for something of your taste. "I'll have a Cuba Libre" you let him know.

"What the hell is that?" he says, his Scottish accent thickening with each word.

You laugh, realising it’s probably just a clash of cultures. "A little bit of rum, a little bit of Coke," you say, still laughing as the words leave your lips, your hands gesturing the little bit you speak of.

His grin widens, as he begins to make your drink. "Well, why didn't you just say that" he cackles to himself. He hands you your drink with a grin "Not too strong, I hope?" he winks as he pops open his own bottle of beer.

"The stronger the better" you joke, lifting your glass and clinking it against his bottle. You take a sip, the drink burning with its strength, You force yourself not to react to the taste in your mouth "You gonna show me this wall then?" you look around, taking in the environment you're currently in.

"Sorry about that" Jax says as he re joins you both, a beer in hand. "admiring our pretty faces huh?" he chuckles, noticing you and Chibs standing in front of the mugshots belonging to each of the members. Chibs gives you a playful wink, then pats Jax on the back before stepping away, leaving you two alone.

He watches as you take in each individual mug shot, your expression softening with recognition when you stop at a specific one. "That's Harry right?" you ask, your mind drifting back to high school, Jax and Harry being the inseparable two.

He laughs, amused at the fact you're still calling him Harry, even though he's been known as Opie for years. "Yeah, that's our Ope" he smiles, impressed by your memory.

The night continues to flow effortlessly, you and Jax are getting closer with every conversation, sharing looks and touches that linger a little longer than usual. Chibs moving in and out of discussions, always with a quick grin, making sure your glass is always full, and stronger than the last. The alcohol making you feel much more at ease now. You’ve had casual chats with the barely clothed women, met some of the other SAMCRO members, and even spent some time playing darts, loosing to Jax of course. The sense of being an outsider has faded, and you’re starting to feel like you could see yourself being here on the regular.

Jax leans in closer, his hand resting lightly on your thigh. His ring covered fingers warm against your skin. The faint touch of alcohol and cigarette smoke clings to his breath as he exhales softly. “You Okay, do you need anything?” He asks, his voice low and concerned, a slight touch of protectiveness in his tone.

A soft laugh along with a smile escapes your lips as you lean back into him, his warmth grounding you. You start playing with the rings on his fingers, adjusting them and tracing patterns on his hand. Jax takes a quick glance around and notices the mood starting to fade. Some are too drunk whilst others are distracted with the women offering their advances.

You’ve both enjoyed the company of the others, but Jax feels it’s time for some alone time, just the two of you, and unknown to him, you’ve been thinking the same thing too. He gets up, extending his hand towards you, leading you to a quieter part of the clubhouse. At the end of the short hallway, there’s a blue bike that sits proudly on display. Jax presses three fingers to his lips before gently touching the bike, as if giving it a kiss. It doesn’t take long for your mind to quickly piece together that the bike likely belonged to his late Father.

You tighten your grip on his hand, a little gesture of affection. “Your dad’s?” You ask, curious if he’s willing to talk about him. He answers quickly, keeping it brief “Yeah, that’s JT’s bike” he squeezes your hand in return, a silent signal that he doesn’t want to dive into this topic at the moment. Respecting the unspoken boundary, you quickly shift the conversation “so where are you taking me?” You ask with a laugh.

Jax glances down at you, laughing quietly as he opens another door within the clubhouse. He leads you inside, his eyes locked on yours. Once the door is shut behind you both. He steps closer to you, using his body to gently push you against it. You look up at Jax lustfully waiting for him to make the first move. Your eyes reflecting that you want this just as much as he does.

Your lips crash together in an intense collision, his hands gradually trailing down your face towards your neck, holding you with a firm grip. The kisses begin soft and gentle before turning intense and desperate. Your hands glide smoothly to remove his kutte, as he rushes to take off his own t-shirt. You take in Jax’s half naked body in front of you, your eyes tracing over his tattoo, the scars, and the nearly healed bruises scattered along his rib cage.

He steps forward once again, closing the gap that remains between you, his hand reaching down to slowly pull the zipper on your shirt. He makes sudden eye contact with you, almost as if silently seeking your permission. “please” your voice strains, the desire so close to boiling over, you begin tugging lightly at the waistline of his jeans.

He laughs, a low almost amused sound. All those years ago, it was him pleading for your time, and now the tables have turned. You lean into him, feeling his hard cock rubbing against your thigh, which only serves to heighten your arousal even more. Your hands trail lower, grasping him in your hand, you can feel him twitching beneath the fabric. "you think I’m giving you my dick that easy?” He grins, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, reminding you of all the times you had previously let him down in the past. You bite your lip, realising he’s in it for the long game, you always had a feeling he was the type to tease. With a sudden surge of energy, he lifts you up effortlessly, one of his hands gripping onto to each ass cheek. He strides over to the bed behind him, where he lays you flat beneath the star speckled flag of the USA, a somewhat patriotic scene.

he gently lifts your shirt over your head, his lips leaving a path of warm kisses down your neck, until they reach the top of your leather mini skirt. His touch against your bare skin sends shivers down your spine, and makes your needy pussy tremble.

as your heavy breathing increases, so does the blood flow to Jax’s cock. He removes your skirt, unveiling the dampness between your legs. Covered by just a small piece of black lace, the moisture clinging to the fabric making it shimmer and almost become translucent. You can feel his hot breath hovering over you, you raise your head slightly admiring what he’s up to. He’s off the bed now, on his knees bowed down in front of you, literally worshipping your cunt. He looks up, catching you watching him. His gaze now locked with yours in a dominant manner. Without breaking the eye contact, he pulls down the thin material of your underwear, your body instinctively submitting to his command. You arch your back slightly allowing him to remove them with ease. “do you know how long I’ve waited to taste your pussy?” He murmurs, practically salivating at the sight of you. The words almost magnetic as your body unconsciously lifts towards his mouth.

He swiftly pushes you back down, his large hand covering your mound with absolute dominance. He then pulls your body closer to the edge of the bed, before he effortlessly folds you into a pretzel like position. The moment his tongue meets your sensitive flesh, you throw your head back into the mattress, huffs and moans leaving your lips. Your unable to control the reaction of your body as your legs push back against his firm grip. His hold loosens as he continues delivering sweet little licks either side of your swollen clit. You feel the disappearance of one of his hands, raising your head slightly again you notice him fumbling with his belt buckle. Releasing his stiff length from the fabric. He begins stroking it, teasing you as he submerges his face back into you. You notice his beard, glistening with your desire whenever he comes up for air. As your neediness becomes more apparent, Jax responds by making his movements more aggressive, rougher and more urgent. He’s tongue fucking you now, teasing your hole with what’s more to come.

“How do I taste?” You ask, between breaths, fully aware you’ll get the exact response you’re hoping for. “So fucking good” he says, as he crawls back onto the bed, licking his moistened lips and hovering over you. “Let me show you” he whispers, kissing you slowly, giving you the chance to taste yourself on his lips.

You can feel the hardness of him grinding against you, knowing he’s doing it on purpose. Teasing you with the feel of blood filled veins, the throbbing making it hard to resist. “Are you gonna make me beg for your dick?” You whisper, your fingers tracing down his tattooed back. His signature grin spreads across his face as he reaches into the top draw. “nah I think we’ve both waited long enough” he mutters, you turn your head to see his hand rummaging through the belongings. His body falls flat on you in defeat, as he realise there isn’t any protection to be found. “Fuck” he says, frustrated, neither of you wanting this moment to slip away. You place your hand against Jax’s face, gently guiding him back to you. “Jax, I trust you” you assure him, your eyes locking with his. He looks back at you, fully understanding the undertone behind your message. “y/n I don’t know if I can trust myself” he admits, unsure if he could pull out in time. You repeat your previous words, “I trust you” with conviction, wanting to make sure he knows you’re equally dedicated to this as much as he is, despite the potential risks.

To be honest, he needed little convincing, as even before the words left your lips, he was already positioned at yours. His desire, as well as yours, had already reached a point of no return. He guides his tip tenderly between your soaked folds, the touch gentle yet deliberate, like an introduction before he proceeds any further. “You think you can handle me?” He asks, in a playful but challenging tone. The question was pointless, he doesn’t even allow you the chance to reply. He shoves himself inside of you with such a pleasurable force it causes your back to arch inches off the bed. Your mouth opens wide, gasping as if you’re trying to inhale all the available air, your chest rising and falling with each desperate breath. Jax is unable to form coherent words as he is consumed by pleasure, his grunts and moans blending together.

He hovers closely over you, but manages to maintain his balance, holding himself up on one elbow as the other holds your face firmly, tracing his thumb along your bottom lip, pushing it slowly into your mouth. It’s clear he’s struggling to form the sentence he’s trying to get out. He bites his bottom lip, snarling at you before saying through gritted teeth “so… fucking tight” he laughs lightly as he finally manages to get the words out, in disbelief he’s finally fucking you.

It had been a while since you last had sex with someone, and even longer since it felt this fucking good. The connection with you both feels almost soul-tied but that just could be your pussy talking.

He changes position, now perpendicular to your body, holding your waist allowing him to go deeper into you. He watches as his two toned dick slides in and out of you, glistening from your wetness clinging to his body. His thumb is positioned just at the height of your hole, his thumb balanced on his hard piece, enjoying the way it feels as it ploughs into you. His stance is dominant, looking down at you smiling when you both make eye contact. He lowers himself down onto you again, grabbing your left tit, moulding it within his hands, he begins paying attention to your erect nipple, kissing it sloppily, spitting on it and lapping it back up again. Your hand lazily gripping his head, pulling him up towards you. “I only want you to fuck me from now on” you whisper in his ear, all it took was one fuck with Jax to never want to lie with another man again. “I’m only… fucking… you from now” he responds, now paying attention to your neck. He could have just said that because he’s in the heat of the moment, but either way you know you’ll hold it against him.

His thrusts become irregular now, both of you so close to reaching your peak. He pounds into to you, his sensitive tip recoiling off of your G spot. You’re both so in the moment, you don’t realise the voice echoing down the hall.

“JAAAAAX!” The Scottish voice rings out, booming through the thin walls, Chibs walks towards the dorm door, the unmistakable sound of skin meeting skin ringing in his ears. If it wasn’t important he would have let you both be but without hesitation, he knocks on the door. No answer of course - not that either of you would have heard, with Jax being balls deep inside of you. “Jesus Christ” he takes a deep breath, rolling his eyes, preparing for what he’s about to walk into.

“Pull ya dick out Jax! we gotta to go” Chibs looks up towards the ceiling whilst simultaneously banging his fist upon the desk next to the door, trying to avoid seeing anything he shouldn’t, but needing to get Jax’s attention, quickly. “Sorry y/n” he adds a small apology at the end.

The both of you fumble, thrown off by the interruption. Jax quickly moves to straighten the covers, in an attempt to preserve your dignity, he isn’t worried about his own. It wouldn’t be the first time his VP has seen is bare ass. “Chibs! What the hell brother” Jax shouts, pissed off is an understatement.

“I’m sorry, Jackie boy, but we’ve gotta move. Marks is at the warehouse…so is Alvarez” He shoots Jax a knowing look, clearly unable to share more details with you present. “Shit!” Jax retorts. You can tell from Jax’s reaction that this is serious. “Make it quick” Chibs instructs Jax, pointing directly at him, before slamming the door shut, waiting for the president on the other side.

Jax hurries off the bed, throwing his clothes back on. His boxers and jeans pulled on in a frantic rush. You watch from the bed as his messy hair - now tucked behind his ears, still clings to the clammy dew on his skin, some strands still poking out of place, adding to the chaos of the moment.

For a split second, you almost expect Jax to tell Chibs to fuck off, so that he could get back into bed, back into you, finishing what you had both started. But as you see him yank the laces of his trainers tight, reality hits. “Wait… Jax, you’re really leaving me here… like this?” the surprise obvious in your tone.

Jax bites his lip in frustration, “y/n, babe, I’m so sorry… but this can’t wait… I have to go” he grabs his kutte from the floor, slipping it back on like a suit of armour. “Don’t leave though… please, stay here. I’ll be back… I don’t know when but just promise me you’ll stay” he bends down, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before grinning. He leans in a little closer, whispering into your ear “it was worth the wait” he gives you a subtle wink, before heading out after Chibs, leaving you in the quiet aftermath.

You lean back against the headboard, the covers tucked tightly underneath each arm, protecting your modesty. A nasal laugh escapes you as you shake your head, glancing around the room. One minute, Jax was right here with you, fucking you senseless and then the next minute, he was gone.

As you sit there, processing the madness of the night, a part of you wonders if this is just the start. The chaos, the uncertainty. If you and Jax were to ever become more serious, would this become your new routine?Jax disappearing at the most inconvenient times, off to protect his club as he leaves you behind to wonder when he’d be back.

Perhaps the more tempting road may lead to more heartache.

Part 3: The texts.

photos, gifs & music do not belong to me. Apart from being edited slightly.

I hope I did part 1 justice lol, the amount of times I reread this back and changed 2625 things, would love to hear your feedback.

Please please please request some more Jax stuff!

Jax Teller Masterlist

xoxo secretly samcro

#jax teller #jax teller one shot #jax teller x reader #samcro #sons of anarchy #charlie hunnam #jax teller imagine #jax x reader #secretly samcro #soa #sons of anarchy imagine #sons of anarchy fanfiction #charlie hunnam smut #charlie hunnam fanfiction #chibs telford #chibs sons of anarchy

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lumiambrose · 7 months ago

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୨♡୧ Don't lie to me

Sae Itoshi x reader, fluff

Romance trope mini series - Rivals to lovers

Sae doesn't seem to appreciate your uptight attitude and habit of avoiding him during BM and Re Al's friendly match. So, of course, he takes matters into his own hands... 0.9k wc

C.ai bot by LinhDao

Being Bastard München’s PR manager isn’t an easy job: the hot-headed football players, the fangirls—it’s all chaos. Of course, the boys do their best to make work easy for you, but even they have their limits. Especially today.

The meeting hall buzzes with restless energy, the crowd of fans and journalists packed too tightly into the space. Your job as Bastard München’s PR manager is to keep this chaotic event organised, but with Re Al Madrid’s under-20s in attendance, it feels more like refereeing a rivalry than hosting a professional PR event.

Your gaze flits across the room, settling on Sae Itoshi, Re Al Madrid’s superstar midfielder. He stands slightly apart from his team, arms crossed and expression as unreadable as ever. Sae doesn’t waste time with the crowd or the media. No forced smiles, no effort to charm anyone. Just a detached, almost clinical focus, as though the event is beneath him.

You can’t stand him. Frankly, you’d call him bratty and ignorant if you could. He has a type of arrogance that feels dismissive of everyone around him. And being a member of the New Gen XI only makes it worse. It’s as though he’s been put on a pedestal, and he seems content right where he is, looking down on the rest of the football world.

“Need a second to calm down?” Ness’s soft voice interrupts your train of thought. He’s at your side, his usual amused smile tainted with a bit of worry as he follows your gaze to Sae.

“Ahh, Ness.” Your consciousness quickly jolting back to the meeting room, your gaze softening ever so slightly. “I’m calm,” you reply sharply, adjusting your outfit, making sure you’re the epitome of professionalism once the event starts. “I just hate how full of himself he is.”

Ness shrugs. “He’s good enough to back it up.”

You swallow back the retort in your throat as the event finally kicks off. The Q&A session goes smoothly enough—until Sae speaks, of course.

When the mic is handed to him, he doesn’t play to the crowd, nor does he deflect any uncomfortable questions. His responses are blunt and to the point, what you would expect from him. So when a fan asks about his feelings toward Bastard München, his response is as cutting as it is dispassionate: “They’re fine. Good players. Not the best.”

You glare at him from the front row, your professionalism threatening to crack next to your manager's. He meets your gaze, his teal eyes sharp and unwavering, but his expression gives nothing away. He doesn’t care what you think, nor does he need to.

As the Q&A wraps up and the players prepare for the friendly match, you focus on keeping everything running smoothly. Taking multiple photos and videos here and there for social media.

On the field, Sae is everything you would expect from a New Gen XI member. He doesn’t waste movements, doesn’t bother with flashy plays—everything he does serves a purpose.

It’s not until after the match that you have the chance to reunite with your players. “Not bad, huh?” Ness says, sidling up to you again as he finishes his water bottle, clearly exhausted from what was supposed to be a “friendly” match.

You cross your arms. “He’s good. Doesn’t mean he’s not insufferable.”

Ness chuckles. “I think that’s just him being honest.”

You don’t have a response for that. Sae’s honesty isn’t what irks you; it’s the lack of warmth behind it. He’s not arrogant in the traditional sense; he’s simply detached, too detached. As though none of this—including you—really matters.

When the day finally comes to an end, you’re gathering your things when Sae approaches. You fail to notice him until he’s standing directly in front of you, inches apart. His imposing presence catching you off guard.

“You don’t like me.” It’s not a question; it’s a statement, delivered in his usual blunt tone.

You blink, startled. The audacity of this man. “Excuse me?”

“You’ve been glaring at me all day,” he continues, his teal eyes boring into yours. “If you have something to say, say it.”

He raises an eyebrow, cutting off your denial. “Don’t lie. It’s a waste of time.”

You’re too stunned to respond. What the fuck? Your carefully constructed professionalism crumbling under the weight of his unflinching gaze and a couple of words. Sae doesn’t wait for you to recover.

“I don’t care if you like me,” he says, his voice holding zero emotion to it. “But if you want to keep up, you’ll need to be honest with yourself.”

And just like that, he turns and walks away, leaving you standing there, mouth agape and clearly at a loss for words. You’re not sure what just happened, but one thing is clear: Sae Itoshi isn’t someone you can ignore, no matter how much you want to.

And he doesn’t plan on letting you either. It’s only once you’ve made it back to the safety of your apartment that you open your bag to find a neatly folded piece of paper.

You’re too easy to read. If you have something to say, don’t hold back.

Taglist: @sky-casino, @bbladie (join my taglist here)

©lumiambrose ─ do not translate, repost, copy any of my works

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goldsainz · 2 years ago

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WHEN YOU KNOW, YOU KNOW — one shot.

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

MASTERLIST.

taglist: @lorarri @lpab @noncannonships @lunnnix @elliegrey2803 @schumacheer @saintslewis @leoramage @ellswilliams @toomuchdelusion @anthonykatebridgerton @enhacolor @gulabjamoon @woweewoowa @forza55

summary: you’ve slowly consumed charles’s thoughts, and he doesn’t mind it.

request: “can i request ✒️ ❛ you’re my family too. ❜ + charles ?? thx in advanced hehe <3” by @ssainzz

warnings: pure fluff

NOTE: i was listening to margaret by lana while writing this and i just though it was so perfect for this fic. trying to get back into writing after a pretty uninspiring (and quite rough) few weeks. hope you enjoy bc i sure enjoyed writing this!

[ word count: 748 ]

Charles adores his job. He loves the sound of the engine, standing on the podium, seeing all the excitement the fans have to give and he adores travelling the world. He would never complain about the amazing things he is doing, but if there is one thing he has learned to cherish even more than all of that, it is you.

You’ve become an integral part of his days. Whether it’s waking up next to you or calling you to check in, he knows you’ve become home to him. When people ask him how his family is doing, he never fails to mention how you are doing.

He can’t help but admire you every time you walk by him, you’re a ray of sunshine in his life; at least that’s what everyone tells him. He hasn’t heard the end of it since he revealed you were his girlfriend, from his teammate to the fans, they can all see how much you’ve brightened his soul.

“Charles?” You softly say, snapping him out of the daydream he was in.

He glances up at you, watching as you move around the room. You’re packing your suitcase, clothes thrown around the room, you’ve most certainly overpacked for the race weekend. But Charles won’t tell you. He’s tried before and it’s a lost cause.

“Hm?”

“Do you think I should take the maroon or vermillion?” You muse, grabbing two different types of dresses and placing them against each other.

Charles furrows his brows, he glances between the dresses and tries to make a decision. But if he’s honest, he doesn’t know what the difference really is. The cuts of the dress are practically identical, and the length is the same in his eyes.

“The maroon?” He says doubtfully. You screw up your nose at his decision, apparently not being what you wanted to hear.

You look at the dress Charles picked once more, and with a shrug you throw it onto the ever-growing pile of clothes in your suitcase.

“I was thinking that for your family dinner we should bring something, right?” You ask him, organising some of the mess you’ve made.

“Our family dinner,” He tells you, a soft smile resting on his lips.

“Huh?” You manage to say, dropping the clothes you were folding onto the bed he’s resting on.

“You said that it was my family dinner, but it’s ours.”

“Oh,” You exhale, taking notice of the deep sentiment behind his words.

It takes you slightly by surprise, it’s not unlike Charles to be sweet, to reassure you with words when things get hard. But this time it is almost out of nowhere. You didn’t really mean anything by your words, yet it seems they touched him in a way you’re not even sure how to describe. The one thing you do know though, is that at the end of the day, he comes home to you. Because home is wherever you are, and that is bigger than anything else.

“You’re family to me, chérie.” He says after the smallest beat of silence.

“You’re my family too.” He doesn’t waste a second in getting up from the bed and kisses you grabbing the nape of your neck and pulling you into the kiss like he won’t ever get to do so again.

There is a pause in time. While his lips are on yours, it seems like everything just stops. Leaving you to breathe in the moment, cherish the feeling.

When you pull away from the kiss, the crinkles in Charles’s eyes from the soft smile he gives you melts all your insides. You’d be a fool not to give him the same sentiment back, and so you do.

“You’ve got the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen.” He whispers, his hand caressing the side of your face.

“And you’ve got the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen.” You say back, admiring the depth of the green in them.

Though neither of you say it, too lost in the moment, it is evident that the love between you is sparkling. And you know, you just know, that Charles is the one for you; just like he knows you were made for him.

If there’s anything you know, it is that he is your family. That he is the one you love. The one you’d come home to every day and never be bored of it. Because monotony with Charles is impossible, and if there ever is, you’d still want it.

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domesticgoddess22 · 6 months ago

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wish upon a cowboy

prologue

pairing: raider!joel miller x fem!reader

Summary: A rugged raider takes you under his wing after hunters leave you for dead. The two of you form a team and you quickly grow attached to him–mumbling, grumbling, protective Joel Miller. When you divulge your wishes to experience life before the outbreak, Joel decides to make them come true. All of them.

warnings: age gap (early 20s/mid 40s), praise kink, breeding kink, daddy kink, unplanned pregnancy, unprotected piv, canon-typical violence, light choking, dom!Joel, angst word count: 22k+ in progress (prologue 1.8k) rating: 18+ explicit MDNI masterlist here

Late September in Texas was more like summer than it was fall. It’s a whopping 90 degrees outside, or so you guess since a thermometer wasn’t on your list of important things to haul around. You just have an inkling that it’s a sunburn passed 89 with the way the Austin sun scorches your skin.

You’re gradually making your way across the farmlands out west, one cornfield and run-down farmhouse at a time. All of this walking is making your feet get all blistered and bruised and it was beginning to sour your mood.

Joel notices.

“‘S wrong?” Joel grumbles over his shoulder.

“Feet are killin’ me. Can we stop or are we gonna hit every farmhouse in Texas first?”

He mumbles something under his breath before coming to an abrupt stop. You slam into his backpack and he swings around, giving you his full attention.

“Five minutes,” he says, a deep voice scraping the ground. His face is glistening with sweat and his shirt is half unbuttoned so you can see the tufts of hair poking out from his chest. “Then we need to get movin’.”

It makes sense why he’s in a hurry. Neither of you have much food to last more than a day or two, so Joel was very keen on frequent scavenging, grabbing medicine you might need for later, and sustenance.

“Always in such a rush,” you tease, finding a spot to sit on the dirt road. There’s a subtle smirk on your face that’s quickly wiped away when you rub the soles of your feet, careful not to touch your open sores. You hiss at the odd mixture of relief and pain as you knead into your skin.

Joel chews his cheek in thought and then digs through the front pocket of his pack. He leans down so he’s eye level with you, resting his left hand on his knee as he hands you an aged bottle of Neosporin. “Here. Put this on.”

You notice how his brown eyes shine gold with the way the sun is angled on his face. The salt and pepper threads of his beard are more defined up close. He’s probably in his mid-late forties. You wish you knew, but he never told you anything about himself. Said it was better that way.

“Thanks.”

There’s really so much more you want to know about the man you’ve been shacking up with for the last few weeks. You guys didn't even have a label for what you two were to each other–a team? Partners? You didn’t dare entertain anything beyond that, but a label would guarantee that your relationship was something more permanent and you wouldn’t end up alone in this fucked up world. Again.

You hated that about yourself too–your need to latch on to anyone who showed you a sliver of kindness. Sure, Dad always said that building a network of people you can rely on is a survival instinct. There’s some truth to that nowadays. You knew you wouldn’t make it far without someone strong and sturdy like Joel.

Unfortunately, you’re starting to think this little attachment of yours isn't just about survival.

“Guess you’re not so bad after all?” you say, kicking away your inner thoughts and dotting your sores with nearly dried out cream.

“Ain’t all that bad, huh? What about when I saved your life, kid?” There’s a playful lilt to his tone that you pick up on. He’s normally grumbly and annoyed with you, so it’s as loud as a blaring horn if he’s showing you emotion other than grumpiness.

“Hmmm, I guess I can give you credit for that one.”

He’s still looking at you, a smirk creeping up on his lips as his shoulders jerk in laughter. You remember meeting Joel like it was yesterday. He found you, a month and some change ago, rotting on the side of the road with a bullet planted in your thigh. Pain dug its nasty claws into the wound, twisting it so it spread down to your knees and up to your groin. Death was coming for you, but you clung to life like you were hanging onto the edge of a cliff, sweaty fingers slipping one by one.

“Ain’t lookin’ good for you, darlin’.”

“Fuckin’ hunters,” you said, grinding your teeth. You’d curse them with your last breath if you had to.

“Yeah…”

“You gonna put my lights out? Put me outta my misery?” Sweat stuck to your upper lip and the world looked all fuzzy and white.

There was a quietness as he stared at you, turning your words over a few times behind his dark brown eyes. And then he said, “Naw, kid. I ain’t gonna do that.”

The only thing that kept you tied to this earth was standing right in front of you now, flannel shirt, rugged exterior, a charming Southern accent, and a smolder that lit a flame in your heart.

It’s possible you caught feelings for him simply because he saved your life. Stopped your bleeding, took you to a doc friend of his and had your bullet removed, and he checked in on you on the daily with a simple how you feelin’, darlin’? Ya need anythin’? And when you asked him to stay with you while you slept one night to keep the night terrors at bay, he did. Even though he didn’t know you, and had no obligation to you, he stayed by your side.

Always loyal, reliable–albeit a little grumpy–Joel.

You healed up in about a week and a half. Then Joel said he was heading west and asked if you wanted to tag along and you said yes, a little too eagerly at that.

Maybe he was lonely and liked having you around. Didn’t look like he had anyone else. You were a talker afterall, always had something to say to fill the dead space. He’d never say much back, he’d just mumble something here or there and you were convinced that you were just talking to the fields at one point.

Now here you are, sores on your feet from traveling twenty miles with him as he hands you Neosporin. Maybe he did care about you in more than a partner sense. It was a false spark of hope that little crush wasn’t all just a fantasy in your head about an older guy who didn’t seem to reciprocate your feelings whatsoever.

“Looks like there might be a cornershop down the road there, think you can make it to one last stop before we call it for the night?” Joel drawls, standing back up from his crouching position, groaning as his knees pop from the postural shift.

You cock a brow. “Are you gonna make it?”

“Don’t worry about me, darlin’. I’ll be fine.”

“Uhuh.”

After a few minutes of rest, you and Joel head down to the old corner shop. If you were lucky, maybe you’d find peanut butter or something to curb your cravings. Joel’s palette for scavenged goods was a little more complex: coffee, whiskey, and canned meats.

The two of you had a system of operation already. Joel would scout the inside, make sure there weren’t any infected in there, and then when the coast was clear he’d wave you in. It was better this way since you weren’t a pro at dealing with infected just yet.

Through the dusty, broken glass shards of the window, you watch Joel pace up and down the aisles with a steady grip on his shotgun. Shoulders tense, brows furrowed, eyes focused. Hunting.

A few moments later, he waves you in.

You find a box of cereal and granola bars in the breakfast aisle. A smirk peels across your face when you find a 14 oz jar of instant coffee. There was a small sense of accomplishment that bubbled within you whenever you found any of his favorite items.

“Can I interest you in Nescafe?” You pronounce the word like Nescoffee, wiggling your brows and feeling proud that you found something he likes.

“It’s cafe,” he lectures and you roll your eyes.

“You’re supposed to say thank you!” you hiss.

“Mmm,” he hums, stepping towards you, his boots thudding on the old, cracked concrete. “Wasn’t even the good stuff back then, but hell, it feels like it's worth an arm ‘n a leg now.”

“Hmmm. I wouldn’t know the difference.”

It was true, you were five when it all went down, far too young to remember much from the old world, which felt like a blessing at times since that meant you can't miss what you never really had.

“‘S probably for the best.”

“Sometimes. But other times I think I would have loved to see the world–all this,” you sweep your hand across the shop, “filled with lights. And life. I wanna taste a fresh cup of coffee from a cafe, wanna eat pie at a diner, learn how to drive a car so I can pass my driver’s test, go to school, work. Go on a date.”

You sigh wistfully. “And then maybe get married, have kids…” there’s an image of before that you’ve pieced in your mind based on stories you’ve read, pictures you’ve come across, and what little memory your five year old self retained. “But… none of that can happen now.”

“Damn, you really thought a lotta ‘bout life from before. They ain’t keepin’ you busy back in the QZ.”

“You got to do all that. Even though it’s gone now, at least you had the chance to feel what it was like to really live.”

A flicker of recognition shines in Joel’s eyes, something you could only assume was memories of his past that he was now forced to reflect on.

“I’m curious to know how old you are now. Did ya get to do all those things?” You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, gaze flitting up to Joel. He shifts his focus to the faded Nescafe label, feeling the old sticker with the pad of his thumb.

The glimmer of nostalgia–of warm memories–recedes as Joel’s eyes go dark.

You suck your teeth and then smile sarcastically. “I’m gonna guess you’re old enough to be my daddy.” Teasing Joel was becoming a pastime of yours, and you couldn’t help but flirt a little.

He stiffens for a minute, mouth still permanently sculpted into a frown as he tucks the instant coffee into his backpack. “You gonna look for som’ we can eat or ya just gonna stand there lookin’ pretty?” he growls, and you swear you see his eyes flit to your breasts before stomping away.

You purse your lips together, eyes fixed on his broad shoulders before he disappears behind one of the shelves. You snatch a few cans of tuna and peas, muttering grumpy old man under your breath while you do.

“Think I saw a place down the road where we can stay for the night,” the low timbre of his voice echoes from across the shop.

Your cheeks burn. You loved sleeping near Joel every night. Made you feel protected–safe.

A small, desperate voice in your head silently wishes you’d be sleeping in his arms this time and not across a campfire.

Maybe this time you’ll finally get to feel the heat of his skin against yours.

#raider!joel #joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel x reader smut #the last of us #fanfic #joel x you #joel miller smut

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writhyv · 6 months ago

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⋆｡°✩ your domestic boyfriend ignored you

fairy of shampoo | park jongseong x male!reader

pairing: jay x male!reader genre: fluff (itz not zat zeep) word count: 1.8k notes: soft jay hours

Lately, something has been bothering you.

"Ugh..." You scrunched your forehead as you sat in your corner of the office, lost in your thoughts. Your mind was full of worries, and you couldn’t shake off the confusing feelings that weighed on your heart.

"What's wrong with him?" One of your co-workers passed by your desk, curious about your mood.

"He's just thinking too much," your quirky office friend jumped in, excited for some office gossip.

"About what?"

"He'll be fine. He’s just being dramatic," your other co-worker said, leaning back in his chair. "He’s been like this since he got here—"

"I'm not being dramatic!" You protested, your voice rising a bit.

"See?" Your co-worker pointed at you with a teasing look.

Frustration filled you, and you scratched your head quickly, feeling stuck with this problem. It wasn’t just any small issue; it felt really important.

"Totally," your quirky friend agreed, tapping her pen on your desk playfully. "Veins popping, eyes turning red... He’s really in his head."

"But it’s Jay!" You whined, spinning your office chair around.

Your colleagues groaned collectively at the mention of your boyfriend’s name. Of course, it had to do with your sweet love life.

"Let me guess, he wanted to see that new musical movie?" Your laid-back co-worker chimed in without missing a beat. You turned to him and nodded eagerly.

"Yes! Yes!" You stomped your feet like a child. "But now I feel like I messed up!"

"It’s not the end of the world if you don’t go to the movies. The film will still be there," he pointed out, trying to be practical.

"But still! He really wanted to take me out since this is all the time he has before going back to his gigs!" You squeezed your face in frustration. "And this morning, he just ignored me."

A chorus of mock gasps filled the air.

"Come on!"

"You do realize he’s still a person, right? He probably didn’t notice he was ignoring you," your co-worker patted your back, trying to comfort you.

"But..."

"But?"

"He didn’t give me cuddles... I miss his cuddles when he’s all tired and sleepy..."

Your quirky friend let out a dramatic sigh, moving closer to you.

"You know what you should do?" she suggested, her eyes sparkling with ideas. "Surprise him tonight."

You looked at her, confused. "With what?"

"You know."

"Huh?"

Your other co-worker facepalmed at her suggestion, while you raised an eyebrow in realization.

"It’s not that easy!"

"What? You said he gives in easily!" Your friend insisted, pushing the idea.

"You really need to stop sharing so much about your boyfriend at work," your laid-back co-worker sighed, shaking his head.

"But he can’t be that down right now! He hates being upset..."

"Okay, I’ve heard enough," your closest co-worker stood up and walked away from the conversation.

Your quirky friend leaned in closer, her expression softening. "Just try to stay calm and talk to him before the day ends," she said sincerely. "I’m sure he’s not mad."

You thought about her words. Even though Jay could get mad at his friends, he had never gotten mad at you, even during playful teasing.

"I hope so..." You rubbed your forehead, trying to ease your stress.

"It’s just not like him to ignore me..." You mumbled, feeling down.

"Oh come on, you sometimes forget to text him back when you’re here," your friend reminded you.

You looked at her, realization hitting you. "Oh my god... I'm a hypocrite, aren’t I?" You sighed, feeling embarrassed, but your quirky friend just laughed.

"Don’t worry," she said, trying to cheer you up. "He still loves you, I’m sure."

As the long workday finally ended, you packed your things and got ready to head down the elevator. With your phone in hand, you scrolled through your contacts, searching for that one sweet photo of your boyfriend.

I should call him like I usually do, you thought. Maybe he’ll be okay and reply like nothing happened.

With a light tap, you dialed Jay's number, his nickname decorated with two hearts on your screen. You gazed at the cute photo you took of him on one of your dates. His smile was unforgettable.

"Hello?" He answered, his voice warm and familiar.

"Hi, honey..." You said softly.

"Hi? What's up?"

".... I'm sorry." You mentally kicked yourself as you said those words. You were supposed to hold back, but it just slipped out.

"You're cutting in and out..." He tried to speak clearly, but the call was breaking up. All you could hear were garbled sounds like "ksher ksher" and "zzh zzhh."

"Hello? Honey? You’re breaking up—"

"Let me call you later." He hung up before you could check if the problem was on your end. You sighed, watching the call end, the wallpaper of him smiling back at you.

So you just have this saved pic as your wallpaper, huh? WHIPPED.

All you could think about was how much you loved this man.

As you let out another heavy sigh, you stepped out of the elevator, fixing your hair and scarf as you walked outside.

As you passed through the rotating doors, you noticed a crowd gathering outside your office building. People were piling up, excitement buzzing in the air. You felt the urge to see what was happening.

"They're definitely a band. I saw them on TV."

A band? Right outside your office building was a plaza, a usual spot for performances. But the crowd seemed too big for it to be just any local act.

"Are they famous?"

"Are you kidding? They're Enhypen! They were on that band show..."

You turned sharply to one of the people trying to see what was going on. "Enhypen? They’re here?"

"I think so? It’s just a random plaza, though. Could be cover artists."

"No, it’s them! I saw Jake and Sunghoon there!"

They’re just outside?!

"Hey, you over there!" A familiar voice boomed through the speakers, full of energy. It was a voice you knew well, one that made your heart race.

Slowly, you turned your head as other people stared at you.

"This one's for you."

Park. Jongseong. In the flesh. Pointing his damn finger right through your heart.

He adjusted the microphone on the shaky stand, his charm lighting up the crowd. Even if the equipment wasn’t the best, he looked amazing, holding the mic like it was meant for him. He began to sing your favorite song—a sweet, romantic tune.

Cheers erupted as he finished, applause ringing out from everyone, including your co-workers, who cheered for him and his bandmates.

As snow started to fall gently around you, Jay rushed toward you, concern on his face as he adjusted your scarf.

"You’re shivering," he said, worry in his voice. But all you could do was look at this wonderful man you called yours.

"It’s... fine," you replied, holding his hand. He paused, looking down at your joined hands before meeting your gaze.

In that moment, everything felt perfect as snowflakes floated around you. His eyes sparkled, reflecting the light and warmth of the moment.

You couldn’t hold back any longer.

"I'm sorry!" you both blurted out at the same time, creating a funny mix of apologies.

"Wha-what?"

"I'm sorry, why are you sorry?"

"Wait, I'm sorry. What are you trying to—"

You both laughed, the tension fading away. Jay still looked a bit confused, which only made it more charming.

"I said I'm sorry. I felt like I hurt your feelings when you wanted to watch a movie with me during your free time..." You held his hands tightly, feeling sincere.

Jay tilted his head, a smile spreading across his face. "No way! I totally get it, honey." He pinched your cheek playfully. "It’s not like I’m going far away."

"But you wanted more time with me."

"I know." Jay’s smile was real, a sign of understanding. "I thought you were mad at me for being too needy."

"What?" You exclaimed, your voice rising in surprise.

"Slow down."

"I would never! NEVER!" You declared firmly. "If anything, I want to always be close to you! I like the clingy you!"

Jay couldn’t help but laugh, and you hugged him tightly, feeling the warmth between you. At that moment, he rested his head on your shoulder.

"I was worried for nothing," he whispered softly.

"Hey, that tickles!" You booped his nose playfully. "And same here. I thought you were ignoring me."

Jay looked at you with sincerity. "Sorry. I was just in my own head this morning. I didn’t mean to tune out."

You smiled back, brushing a stray hair from his face. "It’s okay. I understand now."

Taking one last look at him, you wrapped your arms around him again. "Don’t ever feel shy with me! We’ve been a couple for years! Come on!"

Jay chuckled at your words, a mix of affection and disbelief shining in his eyes. He often felt insecure whenever you seemed upset, worrying that he could do better. But in the end, you always calmed him down, reminding him that he was enough and that you accepted him just as he was.

You fixed your clothes, pulling away slightly from Jay’s embrace. "So, are we still going to see the movie?"

Jay’s smile grew wider, his eyes filled with joy. "It’s tonight. We won’t be late if we hurry."

"Yay!" You grabbed his face and kissed him quickly, catching him off guard. He blinked in surprise as you linked your arm through his, walking side by side toward the cinema.

Meanwhile, in the distance...

"Are you seeing that? He just left us!" Jake shouted, struggling to carry amplifiers toward the van as he watched you walk away with Jay.

"You're just jealous you don’t get to use anyone as an excuse to go out," Sunghoon replied dryly, packing up other gear. He wasn’t wrong, though.

"Shut it, man!" Jake scratched his head, feeling a bit embarrassed by that comment.

| masterlist! | previous | next |

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vivicas-dollhouse · 1 month ago

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Crp in the psych ward!?!?!?

What in the world made this idea real? Idk

Genre: headcannons

Characters: ticci toby, jeff the killer, masky/tim, clockwork, kate the chaser, nina the killer

Desc: i dont know what compelled me to do this, i just did. This whole thing is just "what ifs", none of them would ever ACTUALLY go to the ward i dont think, im just really loopy on muscle relaxers

Cws: Mental hospital lingo like bootyjuice and the quiet room, ik that was a trigger for me for YEARS so i thought id mention it. (If you dont know bootyjuice is a thing injected in the ass that knocks you out for hours) (crazy shit man), and general mental illness talk

Enjoy?

Toby

-is in the ward for psychosis related homicidal ideation

-is THE BIGGEST DICK TO THE STAFF

-he starts fights immediately, bro is in there to find targets

-he WILL need to be bootyjuiced. Multiple times.

-hes also a huge flight risk, he gets his green band the last day hes there

-speaking of which, hes probably in there for 10+ days

-he doesn't make it easy on staff, he throws snacks at them and stuff

-he wont take his meds. Unless its a sleeping pill, then he will

-he loves snack time, but HATES that he cant bring it into his room

-he also is not a fan of hygiene, stinky rat

- “i dont st-stink, i sh-showered 3 days ag-ago,”

-he doesn't change unless forced to, its not a fashion show

-he hates the groups, he just straight up bed rots until hes forced to leave his room

Jeff

-he is in there for something insane, like he killed a man (or at least tried to) or something

-instantly gets sent to the high risk ward

-he calms down a bit after being bootyjuiced to high hell for breaking shit and starting a brawl

-he is placed on 1 on 1 immediately, that poor tech

-he picks up a couple assult charges while hes there, both on staff and other patients

-has to be put in the quiet room a lot

-he definitely goes from person to person taking their snacks

- “you gonna eat that? You definitely shouldn't, you could go months without eating and not feel a thing piggy bitch,”

-will try to go ada but is kept there anyways

-he is LIVID at the no blankets in the dayroom rule

-he stays in the same sweatpants and hoodie the whole time. No shoes either, grippy socks are superior

-easily 2 weeks in the ward MINIMUM

-doesn't go to group and doesn't talk to doctors, is only released because they cant keep him for longer

Masky

-is admitted for psychosis/hallucinations

-he is instantly asking to smoke, and will pester the staff asking when the next smoke break is until the doctor prescribes a nicotine patch to help with cravings

-he stays in the dayroom most the time, hes not terribly tired. just mentally

-he takes medications and works with doctors because it means he can leave sooner

-he gets a journal to write in to keep sane, its not much but anything helps

-he goes to group but doesn't talk much, he doesn't like the idea of trauma dumping to strangers

-he complains about the food and the lack of variety but he doesn't turn it away or anything

- “it aint good but im hungry enough to eat a rotting horse corpse so itll have to work,”

-changes and does hygiene daily, and washes clothes when given the chance

-the only thing thats getting him through this is the idea of a good burger, a large Dr Pepper and a pack of marlboros at the end of this

Clockwork

-is admitted for ptsd paranoia and flashbacks lasting for hours

-shes only going in if shes forced to

-she is not lucid, just straight up tweaking

-she calms down a bit once she realizes no one can get in or out without a master keycard

-she is a coloring queen, she wants to color and draw all the time

-she stays in the dayroom because she feels anxious about sleeping in the same room as someone else but eventually she is able to go to her room when she's exhausted and a tech promises to sit outside her door

-she doesn't really want meds but she takes the anxiety meds shes prescribed and they really help

- “damn this is the good shit huh?”

-she will be there for about 5 days because they cant really treat ptsd/paranoia in a hospital so she gets referred to outpatient

Kate

-in the ward for suicidal ideation and drug related psychosis

-shes quiet, rocking back and forth while she's anywhere but her room

-she stays in her room most the time, only coming out for snacks and doctors. She will always be first in line for snacks

- “whens snack time, and whats the snack?”

-she doesn't go to group that much, its too loud and mind numbing

-she doesn't talk unless she has to, shes still suffering from withdrawals and is very tired

-she gets green band quickly but doesn't leave the unit unless its to go outside or if shes being forced to go to the cafeteria for once

-she trys to change clothes but it takes too much effort to try and get up. depression is rough man

-she does enjoy a nice hot shower at the end of the day, but she hates how the bathrooms dont have real doors

-she takes meds willingly, she wants to get better despite her line of work

Nina

-is admitted for a prolonged manic episode

-she is a NIGHTMARE

-she isnt screaming on purpose, but shes so manic and talking so fast its loud

-she gets diagnosed with bipolar pretty quickly but fights doctors when they try to make her take meds

-she gets bootyjuiced for starting catfights with people at least 3 times

-shes put on high risk because she wont eat anything non-vegan and even then she barely eats

- “dont you guys know eating makes you ugly?? You have no idea what they put in that meat, fuck even the dairy you-” (ramblings)

-she fully girlrots because shes not allowed to have her cool clothes or 8 million accessories or makeup

-she does shower bc they let her bring in most her shower routine stuff and she showers a LONG TIME

-she makes friends and expects the friendships to last after the hospital but they do NOT. They never do.

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jadeshifting · 7 months ago

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— ♰  ༻ THE WALKING DEAD DR

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

　　　. 　　˚　　　　*　　　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　

JADE THE SPADE . don’t laugh. i didn’t come up with it. before, because of my green thumb. now, because i’m a fucking menace with a shovel in my hand, and really no greater aspirations than seeing tomorrow—which may seem bleak, but i assure you it’s a fine way to live.

after the world ends, what’s left for someone like you? someone like me? when it’s really, truly, good and over.

it’s safe to say that humans have finally joined the circle—eating and being eaten. are we even still at the top of the food chain? i don’t particularly care, actually.

the end of the world ripped through the glitter and gloss of girlish dreams like a pack of ravenous wolves. a bunny in a den of foxes—it’s a balancing act between sugar and steel. the world’s gone grim, but i cling to whatever i can, hands reeking of blood and sweat and painted with silver polish. innocence not lost, just sharpened; a lamb draped in wolfskin, still soft enough to see beauty in the decay but clever enough to keep it from swallowing me whole. i stitch my identity from scraps, a patchwork of lace and leather, refusing to let the apocalypse strip me of the one thing i refuse to lose—myself

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

　　　. 　　˚　　　　*　　　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　　　　　　

WHERE WERE YOU WHEN THE WORLD ENDED? (i know where i was)

★⋆. — the outbreak crashed my military academy camping trip like a bad joke with no punchline. one moment, it was knot tying and firestarting; the next, it was screaming, blood, and cadets turning into chew toys. survival instincts kicked in fast—me and a handful of others bolted while the rest of the group got torn apart like a horror movie cliché. i stuck to the shadows, scavenging supplies and dodging the undead like a ghost, my survival training doing overtime

★⋆. — when my small group’s numbers thinned thanks to panic and bad decisions, i was left solo. determined not to join the buffet or find my end along with the rest of the world, i continued alone, hopping fences, raiding cabins, and staying two steps ahead of death. by the time i stumbled into Rick Grimes and his happy-go-lucky group, i was half-feral, sharp as a switchblade, and carrying the weight of too many brushes with death to count

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

— life was a glittering future on the horizon, and a brain full of ambitions too big for my boots. now?

the crisp order of my days is long gone, swapped for the jagged rhythm of scavenger life. ambition? boiled down to staying one step ahead of death. the pristine fawn i once was has learned to grow antlers—equal parts hunted and hunter, wide-eyed but feral, forever caught between innocence and savagery

who would’ve thought the apocalypse would feel like my second act? strange, huh? the world ends, and suddenly i’m not just surviving—i’m thriving. no crisp uniforms or barking instructors, no stupid ranks to fight for. just me, my dog, and a chaotic, gnarly world that somehow fits me like a glove. there’s something about the rawness of it all that feels honest—more honest than anything i had before. i can call my own shots without anyone telling me i’m too loud, too sharp, or too much.

　　　. 　　˚　　　　*　　　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.

and the little things? they’re different… better, now. a decent meal, a sunrise, Pistol wagging his tail after a long run—they’re brighter, louder, sharper than they ever were back when the world was still spinning right. sure, there are days that gut me, losses that burn so bad i swear i’ll never come back from them, but there’s this gnarly kind of beauty in the fight, in clawing my way through it all and coming out the other side. i was built for this world, and for the first time, it feels like it was built for me, too

　　　. 　　˚　　　　*　　　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　　　　　　

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

SKILLS KEEP YOU ALIVE (if you’re willing to use them)

♰  ༻ SHARPSHOOTING . i’ve got an eagle eye and a steady hand—i’ll peg a walker (or a squirrel) from fifty yards out, no sweat

TRAP-SETTING . whether it’s walkers, wildlife, or unwanted guests, my snares are creative and borderline evil

♰  ༻ PICKPOCKETING . need a weapon, food, or a little “borrowed” lighter? i’ve got you covered

FIRST AID . i’m not a doc, but i can stitch, splint, and bandage with whatever’s lying around—duct tape included

♰  ༻ BARTERING . my haggling game is ruthless; i can trade a paperclip for a can of peaches and make you feel like you got the better deal

INSTINCT (WOLFISH?) . i’ve got a sixth sense for danger, reading people and places like a book with a big red DANGER stamp on the cove

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

♰ “perfect traps, clean kills, no wasted movement. whoever did this is good. too good.”

HOW IS EVERY DAY THE EXACT SAME, ALWAYS DIFFERENTLY? (what day is it?)

♰  ༻ like a magpie with more orderly priorities, i scavenge all day, every day for food, trinkets, and anything remotely useful

diner dreams—i play short-order chef with whatever’s edible, whipping up “meals” that are 80% apocalypse creativity, 20% actual food (not sure what percentage edible, but it ain’t high)

♰  ༻ i braid my hair and clean my gear (even in the apocalypse, you can’t let yourself look like a total wreck. who do you think i am?)

keep my blades razor-sharp, practicing flips and spins to quiet my busy brain. i throw them and i hit my target

♰  ༻ my nightly routine includes gazing at the stars, wondering if there’s still a future worth fighting for. glamorous

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

　　　. 　　˚　　　　*　　　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　　　　　　

FOUND FAMILY? (first family. there was nothing before, either.)

finding a family after the world ended felt like stumbling onto an oasis in the middle of a desert—alien, overwhelming, and so damn beautiful it hurt. solo for so long, first by circumstance, then by necessity, the idea of belonging hit like a sucker punch. Rick’s quiet strength and Daryl’s rugged loyalty made them paternally carved out of grit and steel, grounding me in ways i didn’t know i needed. Carol, with her no-nonsense care and hidden softness, gave me a taste of the motherly warmth i’d long since buried as a pipe dream. and Beth—bright-eyed, gentle Beth—became the sister i’d never had, someone who made me believe in sweetness again, even in a world like one big sour gummy worm

♰  ༻ then there was Carl, all sharp edges and soft vulnerability. falling in love with him was like being cut by a blade i didn’t wanna dodge… like stepping into a fire i couldn’t put out—a blaze i’d protect with my last breath. the rest of the group—Glenn’s humor, Maggie’s resolve, Michonne’s quiet strength, Judith’s innocence—each thread wove into a tapestry i couldn’t live without

♰  ༻ raw, intense, and terrifyingly unfamiliar. this new family wasn’t bound by blood but by choice and survival, and protecting them becomes my creed, my compass. every scavenged meal, every walker killed, every sleepless night on watch—all for them—my salvation in a world that had tried to strip me of everything human. for that, i’d give them everything i had

ib : @/solanasreality & @/hrrtshape

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

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131 notes · View notes

loudstan · 1 year ago

Text

(67) Days of Whatever the Fuck that Was (PART 1.)

Summary: Chenle wasn't interested in committed relationships until he met the one. The problem is that now she is the one who doesn't want to commit to him.

Pairing: Werewolf! Chenle x Siren! Female reader

Warnings: OOff where do I start. Things get dubious, and even a bit non-conish sometimes so do not read if that's not something you're into. A lot of mind games, manipulation, gaslighting, and all the red flags you can think of. Y/N is MEAN. Also, this is super long so i had to make two separate posts. Read both if you want to know how it ends! SMUT.

Chenle didn’t understand why everyone said they had such a hard time trying to get their mates to accept them. All his pack brothers told horrendous stories about how hard it was to approach, confess, and get together with their destined person (except for Haechan, who found the whole ‘bugging her every day until she says yes´ approach normal). So far, all their mates had not been wolves like them, so it made sense that they didn’t immediately believe them, nor did they want to compromise to be with them for life.

But Chenle? Chenle had his mate in his arms right now, not even five minutes after first laying eyes on her, kissing him and giggling playfully at his dumbfounded but eager state.

He can barely remember how he got there. He remembers going to this bar that Jisung was ridiculously excited to check out. It was literally inside a ship that was (supposedly) safely anchored and that was accessible through a wooden bridge connected to the port. Rumor had it they served the most exquisite liquors from all around the world and they never stayed in the same town for more than a couple of months. Chenle found the concept of a wandering floating bar clever, especially because paying for a spot to park a ship wasn’t as expensive as renting a place on land and getting it ready for the business. He had some concerns regarding the legal permits to sell alcohol in different cities and countries, though.

He was thinking about all the technical details that opening a business like this required while trying to decide what to order when he locked eyes with the bartender– the most beautiful creature he had ever seen– and he forgot how to speak, so he just looked at you dumbly as your lips moved delicately, asking him who knows what.

You thought maybe he was new to drinking, so you leaned forward over the bar and pointed at some options on the menu, avoiding the ones that contained hard liquor.

“Are you a beer-only type of person? This one is a little bitter but a lot of our regulars like it,” you tried to speak over the loud music. When he didn’t reply you tried again. “If you prefer something sweet there are a few cocktails that I could recommend but they are kinda strong–,” You looked up and saw that you had been talking to a wall the entire time; he wasn’t even looking at the menu. Instead, his eyes moved hesitantly from your lips to your neck and finally, your breasts, which were barely covered by your low-cut top, and had him salivating.

He finally looked up when you scoffed.

“That’s not really on the menu,” you teased him. You weren’t mad. You often got hit on during your shift, and you quite enjoyed the attention when it came from attractive young men. And this one was incredibly attractive.

He cleared his throat. “S-sorry, I didn’t mean to stare–”

“Do they look good?” you asked, tilting your head and crossing your arms under your chest, making your tits look even prettier.

He swallowed a groan and forced his eyes to look back into yours after taking a quick look. So you were a tease, huh? He could deal with that. “Yes,” he said, suddenly sounding very confident. “But they would look prettier with my mouth on them.”

You were taken aback by the change of demeanor, but you couldn’t deny it sounded tempting. You had had your fair share of one-night stands, most of them fun, some of them not so much, but you had never wanted to kiss someone you had just met this badly.

“Sangie,” you turned and called for your coworker who was cleaning some glasses. “Can I take a short toilet break?”

Yeosang smirked knowingly and nodded. There weren’t many customers right now, so he could handle them just fine. Plus, it was the first time he saw you taking the initiative to go with someone, which had to mean you really liked that lucky guy.

“Thanks! Love ya!” you said, leaving your workstation and grabbing the stranger’s hand, who let you guide him without even thinking about his friend waiting for him at the table.

And now he was pressed against the wall of a restroom as you assaulted his lips until he felt light-headed. The way the ocean waves rocked the ship didn’t help. He felt drunk already and he hadn’t tried a single drop of alcohol.

“What’s your name?” he asked in between kisses.

“Y/N,” you replied, pecking his lips. “And you are…?”

“Chenle,” he said, chasing your mouth. “Zhong,” he added. He thought you had to know his family name as well since it would be yours one day.

You giggled against his lips and his heart skipped a beat.

And then he almost had a heart attack when you placed his hand on your breast.

“I thought you were gonna make them look prettier, Chenle Zhong” you taunted.

He let out a sound that was between a laugh and a scoff. He would fix your attitude later, right now he was feeling too good to be mad about it.

He squeezed your breasts while he trailed your neck with wet kisses.

You sighed and closed your eyes in delight, waiting for him to fulfill his promise, but he was taking his sweet time with your neck.

“Hey,” you tried to get his attention to no avail. “I can’t be here all night, you know?” you informed him, laughing.

Either he didn’t hear you or he decided to completely ignore you because he seemed fixated on nibbling the soft skin on the crook of your neck.

You normally wouldn’t mind some of that for foreplay, but you had to get back to work at some point. Not only that, but the constant licking and sucking on the same spot was starting to get painful.

“Chenle,” you hissed, tapping at his shoulder insistently, but instead of stopping he opened his mouth wider and you felt sharp teeth scratching the surface his tongue had abused before. “Chenle, stop!” you demanded, grabbing a handful of his hair and finally pulling his head back. “What are you doing?!” you asked him, holding him in place and using your other hand to soothe the sensitive patch of skin.

He groaned and stared at you defiantly. “Let me go.”

“ You’ve been sucking on my neck for five minutes.”

“I found the right spot,” he argued, trying to dive in again, and grunting when you pulled his hair harder.

“Right spot for what?” you asked, baffled.

“To bite you,” he replied, rolling his eyes like you had asked the dumbest question ever.

“...Nice, but that won’t get me off,” you explained. “So can we move on?”

His reddened eyes (had they always been red?) squinted at you. “My mate has a sassy mouth, huh? Let me make it official and then I’ll get you off all you want,” he offered, aiming for your neck and letting out a frustrated sigh when you stopped him again.

“I’m no one’s mate. What the fuck are you on about?” you asked in disbelief.

“You asked for my ID before I could order a drink, right? What species did it say I was?” he tried to explain as kindly as he could, but he sounded like an exhausted elementary school teacher. He was losing his patience and it was getting really hard to be coherent.

“A werewolf, but–,” you stopped mid-sentence and your eyes widened in realization. “Oh…”

“Yes, ‘Oh’,” he echoed. “So why do you think I need to bite your neck?”

“…You imprinted on me?” you whispered, gulping.

“Smart girl,” he cooed, pecking your lips and making you blush at the unexpected praise.

Once again he started kissing your neck, teeth grazing against the skin threateningly. When you tried to pull his hair again he growled, opting for pinning both your hands on the wall.

“This is what’s going to happen,” he whispered next to your ear. “After I mark you, we’re going somewhere more…hygienic and comfortable, where we can mate properly. Once my rut is over, if you can walk, we’re going on a date to discuss the details of our future together. Marriage is a must, but pretty much everything else is negotiable. Do you like diamonds?” he recited like he had been preparing this script for a long time.

“Absolutely no—”

“No diamonds?” He asked skeptically, thinking you were rejecting his gemstone choice instead of his whole plan. The way you squirmed didn’t seem to give him a clue of your thoughts either, because all he did was pin both your hands together on top of your head with one of his hands while the other grabbed your jaw firmly to keep you in place. “I guess there are other options, but diamonds are the most durable…” he mumbled.

“I have no intention of—”

“What type of house would you like? If you don’t like any of the properties on sale we can get one designed and built to suit your taste. Anything for you. You’ll get anything you want as long as you’re mine,” he continued like he couldn’t hear you. He wasn’t one to lose his mind easily, but you smelled of sea salt, coconut, and vanilla and he couldn’t think of anything else besides having you by his side and spoiling you.

Your heart sprinted. This stranger was about to make you his for the rest of your life. He was certainly handsome, but you had no intention of settling down. There was a reason you worked in a wandering bar! You couldn’t stay in just one place and belong to one person.

You tried to reason with him, but your pleas fell on deaf ears. All he did was whisper reassuring words as he prepared to sink his fangs on you.

“C-can you at least look at me first?” you begged.

You don’t know if it was your desperate tone or the way your body was trembling but he miraculously decided to grant you something, lifting his head to look into your eyes.

And his eyes were so full of adoration.

It almost made you feel guilty for what you were about to do.

…Almost.

You had promised your captain not to lure anyone into doing something you wanted again, but this was an emergency.

“Chenle Zhong,” you called his name sweetly, the sweetest he’s heard from you so far. “You don’t want to mark me,” you assured him.

His brows furrowed.

“I… I want–,” he tried to look at your neck again.

“Look at me,” you commanded, still using your luring voice. “You don’t want to be with me.”

He shook his head, opening his mouth dumbly without being able to formulate a word. He seemed confused, like he couldn’t remember what he wanted to say but refused to let you go still. You were impressed. No one had been able to resist your hypnosis and you were sure he would give in soon, but he was putting up a fight. How sweet.

“Let me go,” you instructed softly.

He didn’t reply, but he reluctantly let go of your arms.

“I will get back to work and you will go home,” you informed him.

He nodded slowly, lost in your eyes.

“What will you do?” you asked.

“I will go home,” he replied monotonously.

“Good boy,” you replied, caressing his cheek. He was so pretty… totally your type but you two didn’t want the same thing, so it was better to end things right now. Ideally, you would have been able to reason with him without bewitching him… but you doubted he would agree with you when his rut was clearly about to hit. “I’m leaving first,” you finally said before unlocking the restroom door and stepping out.

As soon as you walked out you bumped into the guy Chenle had arrived with. His panicked expression made him look like a mom who lost her child at a supermarket and you wondered if he was the reason Chenle’s phone kept vibrating in his pocket while you two made out.

His widened eyes looked at your neck and his mouth fell open comically.

“I think your friend had too many drinks,” you said casually, walking past him and pointing at the restroom. “You should take him home.”

The man looked at you suspiciously before rushing into the restroom.

“Had fun?” Yeosang asked casually once you got back to work.

“Not really,” you sighed.

“He wasn’t that good, huh?” he offered you a sympathetic smile after handing a customer a freshly prepared cocktail.

“No–I mean…I don’t know,” you shrugged. “We just weren’t compatible.”

“Hm…it was certainly quick,” he replied as he saw the man he was talking about being dragged out of the restroom by another guy. “There he goes. Not a heavy drinker I guess–oh,” he stopped mid-sentence to let out a soft gasp and locked eyes with you. “You did not,” he said in disbelief.

“I did not what?” you asked, feigning innocence and keeping yourself occupied cleaning the already clean bar top.

“Did you do the thing?” he whispered, looking around like he was afraid someone would hear.

“No,” you lied.

“I don’t remember preparing a single drink for him. And he walked into that restroom with you just fine. Why does he look so lost and dazed?”

You sighed. Of course, Yeosang would be able to tell. He had been raised by merpeople before he was recruited by Hongjoong. Many would believe Yeosang was a siren himself because of his bewitching aura and appearance, but he was human alright. A human who grew up mirroring and understanding siren behavior. It was thanks to him that the captain accepted you as part of the crew when he caught you stealing from him some years ago. Hongjoong would have never been reckless enough to take a half-siren in, but Yeosang seemed so excited to meet you and spend time with someone who wasn’t a complete brute. He gave the crew the most devastating puppy eyes as he asked if they could ‘keep’ you … How could Hongjoong say no to him?

You had tried to escape a couple of times but Yeosang’s sad face when you got caught always made you feel terrible. You ended up growing fond of him and it didn’t bother you when he asked you if you wanted to help him make a seashell necklace or if you would let him brush your hair. Soon you started feeling comfortable around the others too as you understood that you weren’t a prisoner and that no one had any ill intention toward you. They saw you as part of the team. All you had to do was work at the bar, help keep the ship clean, and follow the captain’s rules.

Speaking of rules…

“Y/N! Captain said not to!” Yeosang reprimanded you, looking from you to the exit as Chenle and his friend left.

“It was an emergency!” you hissed.

“Did he hurt you?” he asked, scanning you with alarmed eyes but besides the purple marks on your neck, you seemed fine.

“No,” you rolled your eyes. “I just shouldn’t have tried anything with a werewolf in the first place.”

“...Oh, well…uh-,” he blinked twice, trying to understand the problem. “I didn’t take you for a human supremacist…”

“Wha– I’m not a human supremacist, Yeosang!” you exclaimed, frustrated. “I’m not even fully human myself!”

“Then what was the problem?”

“He imprinted on me,” you disclosed before heading towards a new customer to take their order.

Yeosang’s widened eyes followed your movements. He was still silent even after you prepared the requested drink.

“What?” you asked when you noticed a tiny smile forming on his lips.

“Do you feel the same for him?” he asked you, failing to hide his excitement with the way his eyes glimmered. “Is that why you wanted to be alone with him?”

“What? No! I just wanted to have some fun tonight,” you replied. “Humans don’t have mates.”

“But sirens do,” he said.

Your neck almost snapped as you turned to look at him. “They do?!” you asked in shock. You grew up on land and didn’t know as much as Yeosang about sirens so this was new information for you.

He nodded. “And you are half siren,” he reminded you.

“I’m mostly human, though,” you shrugged, pretending to inspect the bottles on the shelf. “But just out of curiosity, what does imprinting feel like for sirens?”

Yeosang hummed. “Well, besides the expected attraction and hornyness, you may feel kinda weak if you’re not with your partner. Some sirens get sick.”

You nodded. It should be fine, since you felt perfectly fine, besides the obvious sexual frustration. If you were lucky enough, the effect of the hypnosis would last enough for Chenle to leave you alone until the boat sailed to its next destination.

Meanwhile, Jisung finally managed to get Chenle home. Chenle was cooperating, but his body was acting kind of clumsy and he was running a fever that kept getting worse.

Thanks to his friend’s zombie-like curt answers, Jisung figured out that Chenle had imprinted on the woman who worked at the bar and that she ‘smelt really good’, but he ‘did not want to mark her at all’ which was very odd for any werewolf who just had his rut triggered due to a fated meeting with their real mate. When Jisung tried to get some clarification, Chenle would simply reply that he needed to get home.

What scared Jisung the most was that Chenle’s eyes looked empty, like he was dead inside. They had turned red like they usually did when they experienced strong emotions, but they didn’t express anything.

So as soon as the front door opened and the two youngest were met with the familiar faces of their pack, Jisung asked for help.

“I think we need an exorcist,” he blurted out, fighting tears of terror and holding onto his probably demon-possessed friend’s arm.

“Finally,” Haechan murmured as he sprinted to his room to get his exorcism kit. “My time has come!” he yelled from a distance.

“What would you need an exorcist for?” Jeno asked skeptically.

“Chenle is not Chenle,” Jisung answered, pointing at Chenle who was standing like a statue next to him.

“He looks like Chenle to me,” Jeno said.

“No, no,” Jisung insisted. “There is something wrong with him!”

“Hey, man,” Mark greeted, walking up to Chenle. “You good?”

“Yes,” Chenle said in a monotonous voice.

“Uh…” Mark halted at the unfamiliar tone and exchanged a look with Jisung before continuing. “How was your night?”

“Good,” Chenle murmured, his eyes were on Mark but he wasn’t really looking at him.

“Really? Uh, t-tell me more,” Mark insisted, trying to get some information.

Chenle’s eyes squinted momentarily in confusion, not knowing how to answer.

“He doesn’t reply to open questions, ever since I found him in the restroom and dragged him out of the bar,” Jisung clarified. “You have to be specific. Watch this; Chenle, who is Y/N?”

“My mate,” Chenle replied without hesitation, his eyes lighting up for a second.

“Woah! You found your mate?!” Mark almost screamed. “Congratulations!”

Haechan came back in that moment with a box full of enchanted objects ready to expel the devil from his friend’s body. “What?! Then he’s not possessed, Jisung! He’s probably just daydreaming!”

Jeno laughed and gave Chenle a friendly punch on the arm. “Congratulations!” he said before turning to Jisung and patting his head. “You got us worried for no reason, pup.”

“No, guys, you don’t understand,” Jisung insisted. “Listen to this: Chenle, did you mark Y/N?”

“I don’t want to mark her,” Chenle replied.”I don’t want to be with her.”

Jeno’s eyes widened, Mark’s eyebrows furrowed and Haechan, who was about to walk away with his exorcism kit, turned back, thinking that he may need to intervene after all.

“You don’t want to be with the person you imprinted on?” Haechan repeated.

“ I don’t want to be with her,” Chenle echoed.

“Those are the only full sentences he says,” Jisung whispered with urgency. “That, and that he wants to go home.”

“Well, you are home now,” Jeno informed, placing a gentle hand on Chenle’s shoulder.

Chenle let out a relieved exhale and collapsed on the floor with a loud thud like he had been waiting for that piece of information to shut down.

All four men looked at their passed-out friend in shock until Haechan broke the silence with urgent commands: “Jeno, Mark, hold him still!”

“What for?” Jeno asked, confused.

“I d-don’t think he’s going anywhere…” Mark said.

“Oh, you’re right, why don’t we just let Mr. Demon take their sweet time to consume Chenle’s soul? ” Haechan replied sarcastically. “JUST GRAB HIM!”

Mark and Jeno pinned Chenle’s arms and legs down hesitantly.

“Jisung, help me draw a pentagram around him,” Haechan instructed, handing Jisung a piece of chalk that he took with a trembling hand.

Jaemin entered through the front door and stared blankly at the scene in front of him. “Is this another episode of ‘just boys being boys’?” he asked, still standing under the doorframe.

Jeno, Mark, and Haechan exclaimed a bunch of incoherent answers, while Jisung continued sobbing and drawing a circle around Chenle, but somehow Jaemin got the idea and rushed toward Chenle.

“He fainted because he has a fever,” Jaemin sighed after taking his temperature and checking his pulse. “Very intense ruts can cause that. Didn’t you say he just imprinted on someone?”

“But he didn’t sound normal!” Jeno insisted. “He was speaking like he had no soul!”

“BECAUSE A DEMON TOOK IT!” Haechan yelled, making Jisung cry louder.

Jaemin rolled his eyes. “His brain was probably not working properly because of the fever. How many of you can have a normal conversation while in rut?”

The boys sat on the floor in silence, looking at Chenle and then at each other, embarrassed of the collective hysteria that took over them. Jisung was still hiccupping but he calmed down a little.

“He’s not possessed,” Jaemin declared, holding back a laugh. “Now put those candles away and go get him some suppressants and water.”

After that, Chenle’s rut was quite uneventful. Too uneventful.

Taeyong was the first to notice something was off, deciding to enter Chenle’s room after an entire day of not hearing any noise coming from the inside.

Instead of being met with an incredibly horny and incoherent Chenle humping whatever he could find, he found him lying on the bed as he stared at the roof absentmindedly.

He called the younger’s name twice. Then he grabbed his shoulders and shook him softly, but Chenle only let out a pathetic whine.

Typically, the best way to reduce the fever that comes with a rut is to get off, as a way to trick their wolf into thinking they were breeding. But Chenle wasn’t interested in getting relief, despite his visible erection.

He was unresponsive, burning up, and not even trying to do something about it.

“Chenle, this isn’t your first rut. You know what you gotta do to feel better,” Taeyong reminded him.

Chenle turned around to lay on his side, looking away from his leader.

“I heard you met your mate. Y/N, wasn’t it?” Taeyong tried a different approach, smiling when Chenle tilted his head towards him slightly with interest. “What is she like?”

“S-she–,” Chenle’s voice was hoarse, so he cleared his throat before speaking again. “She’s perfect…”

Taeyong nodded. “Then what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Chenle replied curtly.

“You don’t look like someone who just met the love of his life.”

“Why? Because I’m not behaving like a horndog?” Chenle spat angrily. “I have more class than that.”

“I see,” the leader replied, unimpressed. “Is that the reason you don’t want to mark her or even be with her? Not classy enough for you?”

Chenle groaned. “I just don’t want to! Why do I have to commit to someone I just met?!” he asked defensively.

The truth was he did not understand why he kept repeating that. He could hear his wolf whimpering painfully in disagreement and his heart throbbing whenever he said he didn’t want to mark you, but for some reason, his brain kept telling him that’s what he wanted. The constant fight between his mind and his body made his head hurt, and his rut was making everything worse. Taeyong’s voice was fading away and his head hurt so much he felt like he would throw up. He couldn’t understand a word that was said to him and honestly, he didn’t want to understand right now. He just wanted to rest, but the room was so hot and it was getting hard to breathe.

He doesn’t know when he fell asleep, but when he woke up he felt less hot than before. As he opened his eyes slowly, he saw Doyoung hovering over him, gently rubbing his face and neck with a wet cloth.

“Hey,” the older one greeted. “How are you feeling?”

Chenle gulped and blinked a couple of times. He was still in pain but he could think a bit more clearly. He noticed he was wearing different clothes, so he assumed his previous clothes were probably drenched with sweat and his pack members had changed him into clean, dry ones. “G-good.”

“We were going to take you to the hospital if your condition didn’t improve,” Doyoung said. “The entire pack is worried.”

“Sorry,” Chenle said. “I’m fine, it’s just my rut.”

Doyoung, always so perceptive, could tell that something was bothering Chenle, but when he opened his mouth to ask, an enthusiastic knock on the door interrupted him.

“It’s my turn to babysit the pup,” Yuta said energetically, entering the room.

“I don’t need–” Chenle sighed but was quickly cut off by Doyoung.

“Thanks, Yuta! I can’t miss this meeting so I really have to go. He needs to take some medicine at 4. Did you check the group chat? I texted–”

“Yeah, yeah,” Yuta replied, pushing Doyoung out the door. “Just go!” he exclaimed, closing the door and turning towards Chenle.

Then Chenle heard him lock the door.

“What are you doing?” Chenle asked.

“Why aren’t you jerking off?” Yuta asked straight to the point, asking the question no one had dared to.

“I beg your pardon?” Chenle deadpanned, sitting up and glaring at the older.

“Why aren’t you making it snow?” Yuta rephrased.

Chenle gave him a disgusted look.

“You had no problem doing it during past ruts. So what was that about suddenly having too much class for that?” Yuta continued the interrogation.

Great. Taeyong had told everyone.

“I just don’t want to!” he insisted stubbornly. “I’m capable of making my own choices whether my wolf wants it or not.”

“If you won’t listen to your wolf, then at least listen to your body,” Yuta sighed. “The fever will keep coming back unless you take care of yourself.”

“A fever won’t kill me–”

“Doyoung didn’t sleep all night because of how worried he was.”

That shut Chenle up. He didn’t mean to cause trouble. He also wanted his rut to be over but for some reason, it felt wrong to touch himself to the thought of you. After all, you weren’t his. He didn’t want you to be his, right?

“You need to cum, Chenle,” Yuta said firmly.

“...I’m fine,” Chenle murmured, staring at his lap.

“I’ll get you off myself if you don’t.”

Chenle looked up, surprised and enraged. “Wha—,” he yelped, jumping off the bed when he saw Yuta walking towards him. “Hyung, what’s your fucking problem?!”

“You need to cum,” Yuta repeated.

Chenle gulped. “Y-you wouldn’t. You’re mated,” he reminded him.

Yuta nodded. “I already called my mate and asked her for permission. I explained that it was an emergency and I would only do it if you didn’t cooperate. She found it weird, but in the end, she agreed as long as I only used my hand and never mentioned it again.”

Chenle’s eyes were wide with bewilderment. Yuta was not fucking around. He really was that guy who would help a bro out. “You’re crazy.”

“So I’ve heard,” Yuta conceded. “Now, get over here. The faster we do this, the faster your rut will be over,” he said while he rolled up his sleeves like he was about to perform some surgical procedure.

“NO!” Chenle exclaimed. “I’ll do it myself!”

Yuta raised his eyebrows expectantly. “Go on, then.”

They stared at each other in silence for a whole minute.

“Do you mind…,” Chenle asked vaguely, pointing at the door.

“Nah, I ain’t leaving until you do it.”

“Hyung,” Chenle spoke through gritted teeth. “I promise you I’ll do what I have to do, but please give me some privacy.”

Yuta seemed to think about it for a second and then he made his way to the door, unlocking it and opening it. As he was leaving he spoke again.“Just know that if I don’t hear any fapping sounds I’m coming back–”

“GET OUT!” Chenle yelled, throwing a pillow at the door which closed right in time.“He’s so weird,” he murmured to himself.

“I heard that!” Yuta yelled from the other side of the door. “That’s not the sound I’m waiting for!”

Chenle groaned. He was incredibly embarrassed to have to touch himself while someone listened, but he knew Yuta wasn’t bluffing and that he wouldn’t leave until he did what he promised he would.

He stood in the corner of the room that was the furthest from the door and hesitantly palmed himself over his pajama pants. Immediately his back arched and his eyes rolled back.

“F-fuck…” he whispered, pressing his palm against his erection harder. It felt so good to get some friction after holding out for so long.

Why was he avoiding this again?

No, what he was avoiding was not the pleasure itself, but thinking of you to feel said pleasure. He felt like he had no right.

‘No right?!’ huffed an incredulous voice in his head. ‘Who else would have that right if not me? She’s my mate–’

He shook his head and his hand stopped moving. You weren’t his. He didn’t want you to be his, right?

That’s what he had been telling everyone since he met you.

But why did he keep saying that? Why didn’t he want you?

He remembered the taste of your soft lips and his hand resumed its movement as he let out a shaky breath.

How could he not want those lips?

And the way you whimpered when his teeth grazed your neck?

Oh, hell no. He definitely wanted you.

He pulled his pants down and thrust into his fist.

“Mm…Y/N–ah!” he moaned.

He remembered it now. You had told him that he didn’t want you…and he just went with it?

He let out a sound between a scoff and a laugh as he remembered the conversation. You had dared to tell him what he wanted?

Next time he saw you he would fuck that pretty mouth. That way you wouldn’t repeat such insolent words.

He gasped, imagining you on your knees with those beautiful eyes glaring at him, full of defiance.

You were attracted to him. It was obvious. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have dragged him into the restroom and kissed him stupid. You only showed resistance when he straight-up told you he wanted to mark you.

Okay, maybe that wasn’t the right thing to say to someone he had just met, but Chenle never had been one to beat around the bush. He probably would have told you all that even if he hadn’t entered his rut.

He wouldn’t let you go that easily next time.

You would be his.

“I want you…” he murmured like he was talking to you. “I want you,” he repeated, this time louder and more secure. “I want you, I want you, I want you—Oooh!” He gasped and his legs trembled as he reached his long-overdue orgasm and white liquid covered his hand.

He continued stroking his cock lazily as he slid down the wall.

That was the best orgasm he had ever had. And it had just been a quickie with his hand.

Oh God…he hoped Yuta had left already. He must have, because he couldn’t smell him anymore.

“Y/N,” he whispered. “I want you,” he declared, practicing what he would say next time he saw you.

His head was clear now and he knew that he had to have you. Whatever possessed him to say he didn’t was gone.

His hand sped up again, this time without a single ounce of guilt or hesitation, aiming to enjoy every sensation the thought of you was giving him and finishing his rut fast to go back to that damn bar.

And he did just that.

A couple of days later you were taking orders and preparing drinks as usual when a familiar ID card was slid toward you on the counter.

Chenle.

You tried not to show your nervousness. After all, you had hypnotized him, so he surely wasn’t back for you. He probably just wanted a drink.

You cleared your throat and tried your best to avoid eye contact. “What can I get you?” you asked curtly.

“I want your number,” the familiar voice said.

You looked up, surprised.

There he was, glaring at you with such intensity you just knew he had managed to escape your spell. In just two days.

“No,” you replied, trying to hide your agitation.

“No?” he echoed.

“I’m not interested,” you half-lied. Were you interested in him? Yes. Were you interested in a commitment to life with him? No.

“You were interested when I offered to suck on your tits,” he reminded you, making a few people turn their heads in shock.

You were mortified.

“Y/N, Can you get some whiskey from the storage room?” Yeosang’s voice called as he stood in front of you. “I’ll be taking your order, sir.”

You nodded, mentally thanking Yeosang and making your way to the storage room, just to see Chenle trying to follow you by walking around the counter.

“Sir,” Yeosang spoke harshly this time, as he positioned himself in front of Chenle again. “I said I would be taking your order.”

“I’m not done talking to her,” Chenle said.

“I think you are,” Yeosang replied with a polite smile, crossing his arms and displaying perfectly sculpted muscles.

Chenle didn’t work out as hard as some of his pack members and he had no experience fighting so he knew this guy would probably knock him out with a single hit. But his wolf kept telling him to fight this bartender guy who dared to hide his mate from him.

“I just want to talk to her,” Chenle spoke through gritted teeth, trying his best to calm himself down.

“Do you want to talk to him?” Yeosang asked you.

You looked at Chenle and then at Yeosang, before sighing and giving Yeosang a short nod.

“Fine. But over there, where I can see you,” Yeosang warned him, pointing at an empty table in a corner.

“Thank you,” Chenle mumbled before walking to where he was told to go and taking a seat to wait for you. He was a nervous wreck, but he would never admit to it.

“Here,” you said, placing a glass of water in front of him before sitting on the chair next to him.

“Thanks,” he replied curtly and took a sip of water, trying to remember what he had come to say. It was hard to concentrate when you were looking at him with those captivating eyes.

You also drank some water to calm your nerves as anxious thoughts invaded you. Had he figured out what you had done? If so, you should probably apologize now that he seems to be open to dialogue.

“Sorry,” you both said at the same time.

Both of you seemed surprised at what they heard from the other.

“Uh…,” you stuttered trying to figure out how to continue from there.

“Sorry, did you want to–...” Chenle vaguely gestured for you to speak first.

“No! You first,” you urged.

“Okay, uh…,” he cleared his throat. “I’m sorry if I scared you the other day.”

“...Scare me?” you echoed.

He nodded.

“That whole biting thing and the things I said…I won’t lie and say I didn’t mean them. I meant every single word. But I understand that’s not how normal conversations go when you just meet someone. I got carried away.”

You nodded too.

“I would like to start over if you’re okay with that,” he offered hopefully. “We don’t have to do anything like that night. We can just…talk and get to know each other.”

You took another sip of your drink while Chenle waited for your answer.

“I don’t think so,” you finally said, looking away when you saw Chenle’s eyes widen in distress. “I don’t date.”

“You d-don’t…,” Chenle repeated dumbly. “What?! Like at all?!”

You shrugged. “It’s not my thing.”

“Then what did you want from me that night?! A quick fuck?!”

“Yes. Exactly,” you admitted. “You thought you could find a wholesome relationship at a bar? How cute,” you teased him.

“It wouldn’t have mattered where I met you. I would have wanted you regardless,” he replied assertively.

“Mm, thanks,” you replied casually like your heart didn’t beat faster at his words. “But my answer’s still no.”

Chenle froze. What did you mean no? That was ridiculous! How would a wolf survive after being rejected by their mate?!

“We don’t have to call it dating,” he quickly said when he saw you standing up to leave.

You hesitated and looked at Chenle.

“What would you call it, then?” you asked him just out of curiosity, sitting down again. You wouldn’t change your mind regardless.

“Whatever you want,” he bargained, trying to look uninterested when he was actually desperate.

“Whatever I want,” you hummed. “So you’re okay with being fuckbuddies?”

He was conflicted. He didn’t want that exactly, but if that was his only hope to win you over, he would take it. He would take anything as long as you didn’t cut him off completely.

“Yes,” he spoke through gritted teeth.

“Hmm.. I don’t know,” you teased him a little more. He was just so cute when he was annoyed. “You’re not really my type.”

He poked his tongue on his cheek. “Why not?”

“You’re not very tall–”

“I’m not short either.”

“You're too impulsive.”

“Says the one who dragged me to the restroom.”

“And you’re younger than me.”

Chenle opened his mouth to speak and then he closed it again. He never told you his age–Oh, right, his ID!

“So what?” he asked.

“You won’t even ask how old I am?” you taunted him.

“Doesn’t matter. I bet you’re barely a couple of years older. And I would want you even if you were 10 years older. I don’t care.”

“But I care,” you lied.

He leaned closer to you. “Bullshit,” he laughed. Sounding confident for the first time in the conversation. “You knew my age that night when you had me pressed against the restroom wall.”

Your smirk dropped.

“You were moaning and humping my leg like you couldn’t get enough of me, but now I’m not your type?” he mocked. “I like that you’re playing hard to get. It’s cute,” he admitted. “Now can you drop the act and let me ruin you?”

You gulped.

“What makes you so sure that’s what I want?”

“Oh, please. Your pupils dilated when I said that,” he scoffed. “But what really gave you away was how wet you got as soon as you heard my voice. I can smell it, you know?”

You bit your lip and glared at him. “How do you know it wasn’t because of someone else?”

“Because the scent gets stronger whenever I speak,” he said hoarsely, making you shiver. “I have never met someone so…sensitive to sounds,” he purred, dangerously close to your ear.

You had to fight the urge to roll your eyes back in bliss. Sirens were indeed sensitive to sound and just like they used their voice to tempt their prey, they felt attracted to melodic voices too.

“It’s not bad, I guess,” you admitted.

“I like your voice too,” Chenle said. “Would love to hear you screaming, though.”

You inhaled sharply.

Chenle smirked triumphantly. Admittedly, he had come to see you to ask you out romantically, not sexually. But this approach seemed to work better with you and he was getting turned on too. “Let’s get out of here,” his sultry voice suggested and by your scent, he knew he had won.

“You’ll have to wait until closing hours,” you said, trying to act coyly even though your legs visibly shook when you stood up. “If you wanna wait here then you have to order something.”

“I’ll get a glass of whichever your favorite liquor is.”

Smooth. He was quite confident now that he was sure you liked him back.

“I only drink luxurious brands,” you lied, trying to intimidate him. “Can you afford it?”

Chenle handed you a black card and chuckled when you gasped.

“I think I’ll survive,” he said. “By the way, what did you want to apologize for?” He asked, remembering how the whole conversation had started.

“O-oh, just for…leaving you alone in the restroom that night,” you lied. “I’ll go get your drink,” you added and left before he had the chance to reply

“You okay?” Yeosang asked when you went back to the bar counter.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You guys looked close,” he commented teasingly. “Are you sure he’s not your mate?”

“I told you it’s not like that.”

Yeosang shrugged. “You looked tired and kind of pale these last two days but now you suddenly look like you slept 12 hours and had a four-course meal.”

“You’re seeing things, Sangie,” you laughed nervously.

“Hm… and you haven’t been feeling a tingle on your fingertips right?” Yeosang asked casually.

You almost dropped the glass you were holding. Your fingertips had started tingling the day before for no apparent reason so you had assumed you had an allergic reaction to something.

“Why do you ask?” You inquired.

“It’s one of the signs of siren imprinting,” he replied distractedly as he handed a drink to a customer.

“Why didn’t you mention it when I asked you the other night?!” You asked him urgently.

“I forgot,” he said simply.

“Any other symptoms I should be aware of?” You asked in an irritated tone.

“You said you were sure you weren’t mates, so I don’t think so.”

“Okay, but what if we were mates? What else would I need to know?” You insisted. “Hypothetically,” you added when he gave you an inquisitive look.

“Well, I guess hypothetically, you should be aware that for sirens pleasure is very important and that orgasms strengthen the bond,” he commented. “Once your mate makes you orgasm then you’ll be tied to him forever,” he said.

You scoffed. “So I would belong to any man who makes me cum? That’s ridiculous! I’ve never felt that way after sex.”

“Because none of them was your mate. None of them made your fingers tingle in a funny way, or feel energized as soon as you saw them, or made you feel like you would explode if you didn’t kiss them—“

“Chenle doesn’t make me feel like that either!” You lied, feeling called out.

“Then you have nothing to worry about, right?” he agreed. “This is all hypothetical.”

“But, hypothetically, if Chenle and I were mates and I wanted to…hang out with him…”

“Hang out as in…having sex?” Yeosang clarified.

“Uh,y-yes,” you replied. “Let’s say I want to have sex with him but I don’t want to consummate the bond. How should I do it?”

“Pleasure, especially orgasms, are what seal the bond between mates. If Chenle is your mate and you want to fool around with him but you don’t want to be tied to him, then all you gotta do is make sure he doesn’t make you cum,” he explained like he had a PhD in this stuff.

You looked at him, dumbfounded. “I don’t get to feel good?”

“You can if you’re willing to accept him as your forever mate,” he shrugged. “Hypothetically,” he added mockingly.

He always knew when you were lying, so he was sure you were crazy about Chenle even if you denied it.

You sighed. “Fuck…”

“Y/N, would it really be that bad?” Yeosang sighed too, trying to understand why you were so against the idea of being in a romantic relationship. “You imprinted on him, and he imprinted on you too. Why not accept and enjoy it?”

“And being stuck in a boring town with a stupid mutt as a companion for the rest of my life?” you hissed. “Sangie, you know me! I can’t stay in one place or be with one person! I’m a free spirit!”

“Then don’t get involved with someone who clearly is serious about you?” Yeosang offered, confused at your dilemma.

“But I want him so bad!” you whined.

“Then go get him?”

“But I don’t want him forever.”

Yeosang clicked his tongue, expressing disapproval. “You’re so selfish sometimes…”

“I’m literally just a girl,” you countered. “I’m allowed to have fun–Oh, that’s right! I can just stop before I cum, right?” you gasped, excited at the discovery of a loophole.

Yeosang didn’t reply. He shook his head in disbelief and went back to preparing drinks.

You were too excited to worry about his criticism. Taking orders and stealing glances at Chenle who wouldn’t look away from you during your entire shift. He waited patiently for you to finish working but the anticipation was killing him, and when you finally approached him after cleaning your workstation, he grabbed your hand and took you out of the bar in a hurry, observed by a very conflicted Yeosang.

Considering he had a black card, you weren’t surprised when you found yourself sitting in a luxurious car that screamed rich. You knew nothing about cars, yet you knew this one was expensive. This guy was a big deal.

“Are you even allowed to drive, pup?” you teased him when he sat in the driver’s seat. It was a dumb question, just aiming to make him feel smaller as a way to gain back your power.

“Put on your seat belt,” he commanded, ignoring your question.

“Ah, I guess you’re still a learner driver,” you said, chuckling. “It’s okay, don’t be embarrassed.”

Before you could blink he was hovering over you, looking into your eyes sternly.

“Do you have any idea of how hard it is to focus on driving when you’re soaked sitting next to me?” he asked slowly, threateningly. “I’m suffocating on your scent, so sorry if I want to keep you safe while I speed to get us somewhere private.”

Blank.

You couldn’t think of anything to say.

No smart comebacks. No teasing.

You were sure all that would leave your mouth right now was a pathetic moan, so you opted to keep quiet.

That seemed to please Chenle.

“Good girl,” you heard him whisper before a clicking sound told you he had successfully fastened your seat belt.

He accommodated himself and put on his seat belt before starting the car and driving in complete silence. He was gripping the steering wheel with so much strength that his knuckles were turning white. His jaw was tense and he kept his eyes strictly on the road because he knew if he looked at you he would stop the car and take you right there.

You didn’t say anything either. Aroused yet annoyed at the power he effortlessly held over you. You would find a way to gain control again soon.

When the car stopped, Chenle quickly got off and walked around the vehicle to open the door for you.

“What a gentleman,” you cooed, back in the game, allowing him to help you out of the car.

“Not for long,” he spoke under his breath, once again taking your hand to drag you into the fanciest hotel you had ever seen.

You tried not to let it show that you were impressed.

“I guess your place wasn’t good enough to take me there…,” you taunted once you reached the elevator and he pressed the button with the highest number on it.

“My place is too crowded. But we can go there if you don’t mind the entire pack listening,” he commented, still holding your hand firmly.

“Like you could make me moan,” you scoffed.

Chenle huffed. He was so ready to fuck that attitude out of you. “We’re about to find out,” he said, guiding you out of the elevator and into the room he had booked.

You couldn’t help your gasp.

“Is this the presidential suite–?” you turned to ask but were interrupted by Chenle kissing you hotly, pressing your back against the door you had just entered through.

The kiss was wet, unpractised, desperate. He tasted like liquor and his skill wasn’t perfect, yet it was somehow the best kiss you’d ever had. The lack of air in your lungs and the way his hands held your waist with his hips pressed against yours firmly, made you feel deliciously dizzy and craving for more.

You let out a broken moan and Chenle chuckled.

“You said I’m not your type and that I can’t make you moan, huh? ” he whispered, pressing his hips harder against yours and making you whine. “I haven’t even done anything, yet you’re enjoying yourself so much,” he cooed, licking your earlobe.

You shivered. “S-shut up–”

“Look at you, so precious,” he continued, moving his hips in a circular motion that had you closing your eyes and moaning louder. “Are you gonna cum just from this?”

Your eyes snapped open in realization and you pushed him away abruptly, almost making him fall on the floor.

He looked at you with wide eyes, confused and worried. “What? Was I too rough?” he asked.

You exhaled shakily and tried to regain some composure. If what Yeosang said was true, then you absolutely couldn’t cum. Not by Chenle’s doing. You were going to have some fun with him, make out, and maybe torment him a little bit, but you wouldn’t let him get you off.

“Did you bring me here to hump me and cum in your pants? What was I expecting from a dumb pup,” you sighed, feigning disappointment.

He squinted his eyes and clenched his fist.

“I’m feeling charitable today, so I’ll offer you a deal,” you said, smiling sweetly and walking towards the master bedroom, with Chenle tailing you. “I’ll get you off and then you’ll drive me home,” you declared, sitting on the huge bed.

“Get me off?” he repeated dumbly, standing in front of you. “What about you?”

“You think you can get me off?” you sneered.

“I was about to before you pushed me away,” he growled.

“Please, that was not me about to cum,” you lied. “It’s just a little act us women put on to make guys feel good.”

“I’m sure you were about to–” he insisted.

“Yeah? Do you think you know my body better than me? Why would I have stopped you if I was feeling that good?”

Chenle blinked a couple of times, processing that maybe he had read your body language wrong and disappointed you. He wasn’t crazy experienced, but the few lovers he had had hadn’t complained. Surely he couldn’t be that bad…

Or could he?

Oh no…You had agreed to meet with him only for sex and he couldn’t even do that, right? Fuck, he couldn’t lose you now. He would do anything.

“Let me try again,” he proposed, climbing on the bed and trying to kiss you, but you turned away.

“If you’re not going to follow my rules, I’m leaving,” you threatened.

His eye twitched. He wanted to spank you until your ass turned red and pound you on the bed until you behaved. He wasn’t one to take orders. But he wanted to do things right with you. Now that he was thinking somewhat clearly, he wanted you to be with him willingly, instead of biting you and forcing you into a relationship. He wanted you to want him. And if that meant he had to lower his head for now and re-learn all he knew about sex, then so be it.

“What do you want me to do?” he finally asked.

“Just be a good pup and take your pants off for me, will you?” you asked and giggled. That little giggle that drove Chenle crazy.

He cringed at the pet name but he did as he was told, standing up and unbuckling his belt. You loved your men obedient, but even if his actions were compliant, his eyes failed to hide his obstinate nature. Anyone could tell he wasn’t used to submitting to anyone.

You smirked, willing yourself to pester him with some other brazen comment when the sound of his belt and pants hitting the floor brought your attention toward his barely covered center.

Shocking. Scandalous. Massive.

The pair of gray boxers could barely contain what was in there.

You had seen big before, but not this big.

“What now?” Chenle deadpanned. He wasn’t loving this situation.

“What now?” you laughed, swallowing back the saliva that pooled in your mouth when you were daydreaming about his cock. “There’s already a stain of precum on your underwear. I think you could cum without me doing anything at all.”

Chenle sighed, frustrated. “Look, if you don’t want to do this–”

“Come closer,” you commanded.

Chenle bit his lower lip. He wanted to say so many things, but he controlled himself and walked until he was mere centimeters away from you.

Ignoring his blazing glare, you hooked your index fingers on the elastic of his boxers and lowered them lazily, hearing his breath stutter.

There it was. Hard, thick, and huge right in front of your face.

You hoped Chenle hadn’t noticed your thighs rubbing, or that he magically couldn’t smell your wetness, but when you looked up at him his eyes were glimmering with mischief. He had noticed alright.

Before he could say anything smart, you blew the reddened tip of his cock, making him groan. You gave him a sickeningly sweet smile. “You okay, pup?”

He glared at you, gulping audibly, and gave you a short nod.

“If it’s too much for you,” you purred, tracing the length softly with your fingernails and making him shiver. “We can stop, you know?”

He shook his head. “N-no.”

You laughed, finally circling him with your fist and giving him a firm tug that made him groan. When you built up a steady rhythm, his knees buckled and his hands quickly landed on your shoulders to avoid completely collapsing.

Noticing how difficult it was for him to stand while being so overwhelmed with pleasure you stopped your caress to make him an offering. “Climb here,” you instructed, patting at your lap.

Chenle, who had gasped dramatically at the sudden lack of stimulation, looked at you like you were crazy.

“You don’t wanna sit on mommy’s lap, pup?” you faked a pout, sitting further back on the bed to make more space for him.

“I’m not a fucking pup!” he snapped. He had tried to be good, but you were stepping over the line. “I’m not a fucking virgin either so stop treating me like one and I don’t care if you’re older than me I’m not calling you mommy.”

You glared at him, unamused. You could just threaten to leave, but seeing how annoyed he was, he would probably let you. And that wasn’t the plan. You still wanted to have some more fun.

“What a shame,” you sighed, parting your legs just enough for him to catch a whiff of your arousal. “I was getting excited…”

Chenle forgot immediately about his anger, keeping his eyes on your hands that were slowly pulling your skirt up your thighs.

“Thought that maybe you could make me feel good,” you pouted. “ But I guess I was wrong.”

Chenle shook his head and climbed on the bed. “No, no, I can,” he whispered, pecking your lips. “I’ll make you feel good, ” he promised.

You bit back a smirk, which soon turned into a yelp when Chenle pushed you so you lay flat on your back with him on top of you and slid his hand under your skirt and right into your panties. “C-chenle!”

“Yes,” he whispered against your lips, drunk on your scent. “Yes, I’m here. I’m here for you.”

“O-oh!” you moaned when his index went straight for your clit and stroked it skillfully. “Oh my g-god–Chenle wait a min–Mmm!”

He hummed in delight. The sounds you made were so beautiful.

“I’ll make it good this time, okay?” he panted, stroking you faster and making your back arch. “I’ll make you cum for sure,” he guaranteed.

“P-pup, slow down, m´kay? Aah… s-slow…I–fuck…I said I w-wanted to get y-you off, remember?”

“That’s because you think I can’t do the same for you,” he protested. “But I’ll show you I can.”

Fuck, he was determined. If he was just a random hookup you would appreciate it, but right now that was the last thing you wanted.

“H-hey, Chenle–aah…” you called for him, grabbing the wrist of his hand that was working hard to make you see heaven. “I can’t come j-just like th-aah…” you spoke shakily, trying to discourage him. “Y-you can try a–haa– again n-next time–”

Chenle kissed your lips and hushed you. “You’re close,” he assured you, and he wasn’t wrong. You could feel your toes curling and your abdomen tensing.

It was about to snap.

Oh no. No, no.

You didn’t want to do this to him again, but…

“C-chenle, listen to me,” you caught his attention by grabbing his face with both your hands. “You don’t really want to g-get me off,” you told him, using that alluring voice that always got you what you wanted.

His movements slowed down. “What are you talking about?” he whispered incredulously.

“You just want me to m-make you cum and then you’ll be satisfied,” you said like you were reminding him of something he had forgotten, silly him.

His fingers stilled on your pulsating clit and he seemed lost, like he had no idea what to do with himself now.

“You only want to sleep with me, no strings attached, remember?” you breathed out, relieved that the pleasure was fading away.

“Yes, I…I remember,” he muttered.

“And we agreed that we would do things my way,” you informed him.

“We did,” he agreed.

“Good pup,” you sighed, pulling his hand out of your panties. “I’ll take care of you, okay?”

He looked at you with furrowed brows. He felt so weird. What you said made sense, but why did it feel wrong?

You bit your lip when you saw a dash of hesitation in his eyes. How come he was so resistant to your hypnosis? You had to make him stop thinking.

“Relax,” you told him, caressing his still-clothed shoulders, arms, and stomach.

“Somethings’s wrong,” he admitted.

“Nothing’s wrong.” you purred, reaching his member and resuming your touch.

He moaned and almost collapsed on top of you. “Y-Y/N…”

“Relax,” you repeated.

“I…Ooh– I f-feel… like s-something’s missin–ah… ah, ah–Mmm…,” he spoke incoherently, thrusting into your fist.

“Mm? What could be missing?”

“Y/N–”

“Doesn’t it feel good?”

“ ‘S good– so fucking g–Ooooh…” he whined.

“Are you gonna cum for me?” you asked.

“Haa… gonna– y-yeah, ah…,”

“Then cum,” you encouraged.

He hid his face in the crook of your neck and came with a choked moan, convulsing on top of you and spilling all over your hand.

You had to use a massive amount of self-control to avoid cumming at the sight. He sounded and looked beautiful, and even the tiny aftershocks that made his body convulse were kind of cute.

You don’t know what took over you when one of your hands started playing with his hair like you would with a lover. He hummed contently nuzzling your neck.

“My mate,” he murmured sweetly, placing a gentle kiss on your collarbone.

You froze. That wasn’t very ‘no strings attached’ of him.

“Alright, get dressed,” you instructed, pushing him off you and getting off the bed. “Time to drive me home.”

He looked so vulnerable, naked from the waist down, displaying his spent cock covered in clear liquid, and his face flushed red while he looked at you like a kicked puppy. He opened his mouth to say something, but he closed it again. The feeling that something was off came back but he had no idea what it was.

In the end, he sighed and did as he was told. For some reason, he didn’t feel satisfied at all and he kept overthinking even when he got home.

He didn’t know what to tell everyone when they cornered in the kitchen the next morning.

“You said you would keep me updated so I had my phone with me at all times,” whined Jisung, following Chenle to the table. “But you didn’t text me once!

“Jisungie was about to go find you,” Renjun sighed. “I told him that if you didn’t text him it was because you were probably busy.”

“I text you guys even if I’m busy!” Jisung complained.

“Really? Do you text us even when you’re balls deep in your girlfriend?” Haechan asked nonchalantly, making Jisung gasp, Mark choke on his cereal and earning a glare from Renjun.

“Language!” Kun warned from the sofa, without looking up from his book. He had arrived from one of his trips a few days ago and he was not impressed by how much the pack’s manners had worsened.

“Sorry,” Haechan said even though everyone knew he wasn’t sorry.

“Is t-that what you were…” Jisung tried to ask Chenle, blushing and stuttering.

“What?” Asked Chenle, munching on his sandwich.

“Were you… balls deep in Y/N?” Jisung asked shyly, waiting for Kun to reprimand him. But no nagging came. Kun was as silent as the rest of the guys, waiting for Chenle’s answer.

Chenle groaned. “Do you have to say it like that?”

“So you were!” Haechan accused, getting ready to celebrate another successful love story in the pack.

“No!” Chenle groaned. “I was with her, but we didn’t get that far.”

“How far did you get?” Haechan asked.

“You don’t have to answer that,” Renjun said.

But Chenle knew they would pester him until he spilled the tea.

“We talked and we made a deal,” He said, omitting that you had completely dominated him.

“What type of deal?” Mark asked.

He was hoping Renjun told him he didn’t have to answer this one either, but Renjun seemed curious too.

“We agreed to get to know each other physically, for now,” he grumbled.

Everyone’s smiles dropped.

“You mean like sex stuff?” Mark asked awkwardly.

“Yes.”

“But not dating?” Renjun asked, exchanging worried looks with the others.

“…No, we uh—we don’t call it dating.”

“What do you call it, then?” Haechan asked. Even he had stopped eating.

“We’re fuckbuddies…”

Renjun, Mark, Haechand, and Jisung didn’t know if that was good or bad news.

On the negative side, it could mean that Chenle’s mate didn’t take him seriously and didn’t want a relationship with him.

In a more positive light, she hadn’t completely rejected him.

“That’s great!” Haechan decided it was good news. “It means she’s attracted to you.”

“Yeah,” Mark agreed. “And it can grow into something more as time goes by.”

Renjun remained silent. He wasn’t that optimistic.

“So..” Jisung finally spoke. “You’re sleeping together but you’re not… together?”

Chenle shrugged. “Yeah, we don’t need labels. It’s whatever.”

“Are you sure that’s okay?” Jisung asked.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Chenle asked, feigning indifference. “I’ve never been a relationship person.”

“But she’s your mate,” Jisung insisted, while the others observed quietly.

“So?”

“Doesn’t she make you want to be a relationship person?!” Jisung asked exasperatedly.

“We’re fine,” Chenle sighed. “She doesn’t want to date anyone anyways,” he murmured.

Kun’s laugh startled everyone and annoyed the fuck out of Chenle.

“What’s so funny, gege? He asked.

“You really know nothing about women,” Kun said, grabbing a chair and joining them on the table.

Chenle glared at him. He wanted to tell him that he knew what he needed to know… but he remembered the humiliation of not knowing how to make you feel good and you looking down on him as a sexual partner and he decided that maybe it wouldn’t hurt to hear Kun’s words. “What is it that I don’t know?”

“Have you never watched (500) Days of Summer?” Kun asked.

“OH! I know that one! There’s this girl with really big eyes, right?” Mark replied and Haechan and Jisung started guessing and mispronouncing the name of the actress.

“Does the girl end up with the main guy?” Kun’s voice interrupted their animated conversation.

“No,” Renjun sighed. This was exactly what he was worried about and he was glad Kun thought the same.

“What’s that stupid movie have to do with me?” Chenle asked.

“Every woman wants a relationship eventually, but they don’t give themselves to just anyone,” Kun explained, not shying away from Chenle’s furious eyes. “If she doesn’t want a relationship it’s because she hasn’t met anyone worth being in a relationship with.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Chenle growled.

“She doesn’t see you as a potential partner, so she’ll have fun with you until the man of her dreams steals her away.”

Chenle stood up abruptly, not caring about his elder talking, his half-eaten sandwich, and his friends’ worried eyes. He walked out of the house and slammed the door behind him.

“I didn’t really understand the movie,” Jisung admitted.

But even he knew that his best friend was in some deep shit.

Hoping to calm down, Chenle went to the beach for a walk. He needed some fresh air and time to think. And the smell of the ocean reminded him of you, so it helped him lower his anxiety.

He wasn’t just annoyed at what Kun said, but at what he himself kept saying.

Why did he say what you two had was whatever?

Why did he keep saying he didn’t want a relationship with you? Why didn’t he want it?!

What type of werewolf doesn’t want to commit to his mate?

Younger him would have loved the idea of a hot older woman getting him off without wanting anything in return. It was every teenager’s fantasy.

But he wasn’t a teenager anymore and you weren’t a fantasy. You were the real deal; the woman he was destined to spend the rest of his life with.

He sat on the sand, feeling defeated and tried to collect his thoughts to figure out where this whole ‘I don’t wanna date Y/N’ thing came from.

First,, he met you at the bar and he made it very clear he wanted to mark you and even marry you.

Then you told him that’s not what he actually wanted and he agreed.

During his rut, he came to his senses and decided to ask you out properly.

He did ask you out. You said no, but you were open to casual sex with him.

He didn’t want just sex with you, but he thought that was the only way to spend time with you so he agreed.

You made out and then you pushed him away and told him he couldn’t please you.

You told him he only wanted to get off and nothing else.

He agreed.

Why did he agree?! Why didn’t he make you cum too?!

“What the fuck’s wrong with me?” he groaned.

“What the fuck’s wrong with you?” You asked Yeosang.

“Nothing,” he replied calmly.

“You sound like you’re mad at me.”

“I’m not mad. I’m disappointed,” he clarified.

You groaned. “I told him I didn’t want a relationship and he agreed.”

“Did he?” He challenged. “Or did you use your siren voice to convince him?”

You looked away.

“That’s not fair Y/N,” he murmured.

“He agreed before I bewitched him,” you defended yourself.

“Then why did you even have to bewitch him?” He asked, knitting his brows.

“I uh… didn’twannacum,” you barely whispered.

“Huh?”

You licked your lips in annoyance. “To make sure he didn’t make me cum,” you repeated, louder.

Yeosang’s jaw hung open. “Unbelievable.”

“He’s fine,” you rolled your eyes and finished whipping the counter. “I made sure he finished—“

“I’m done,” Yeosang interrupted you. “I don’t wanna talk to you until you understand what the problem is,” he spoke firmly and walked away from you to take a customer’s order.

Your heart broke. In the four years you had known each other Yeosang had never been mad at you.

You knew he was right. You shouldn’t have done that to Chenle…but you had never liked someone this much. He drove you insane with a desire that was somewhere between sexual and domestic. And that terrified you.

You loved working and traveling on the ship and you didn’t want anything to change. But would it really be that bad to enjoy your time in this town? Once the bar moved to its next destination you wouldn’t see Chenle again and you and Yeosang would go back to normal.

Everything was fine.

After a few nights, you texted Chenle to ask him to meet up after your shift, which he immediately agreed to, picking you up and taking you to the same luxurious room he had booked last time. In a matter of seconds, you had him sitting on the bed half-naked, with you on your knees in front of him, taking as much of his cock as you could in your mouth.

Chenle was taken aback, but once again, he let you do what you wanted. He was hoping that this time he would make you feel good too, and if he was lucky you would stay the night and he would wake up to your sleepy face–

“Fuck,” he hissed when you circled the tip with your tongue, spreading his legs wider.

You looked up at him and regretted it immediately because the view almost made you cum untouched. He was biting his lip to repress the moans and his eyes were half-lidded, and you thought no one could possibly look this hot.

You closed your eyes to avoid the arousing visual stimulation and focused on his taste only, which was weirdly addicting and made you salivate so much that the blowjob became even sloppier.

“Y/N…” he sighed. “I’m not g-gona last…”

You ignored him and bobbed your head faster. The plan was for him to not last. Not that you wanted this to end fast because you didn’t enjoy it, but because you wanted to get off soon, and for that, you had to go home while memories of Chenle were still fresh to pleasure yourself.

“Ooh fu–,” Chenle moaned. “Okay, f-fine, I got it– We’ll do it your w-way but,” he gulped and paused to take a deep breath and regain some self-control. “I get to make you feel good too–aaah!”

You chose that exact moment to deep-throat him.

“Haa…Y/N, fuck, fuck fuuuck,” he whined, daring to place his hands on your head and caress your hair. “Imma….Imma eat y-you out real good after this-Oh!” he lost his train of thought when you choked around him and he came in your mouth as you sucked him dry.

He let out one last broken moan when you released his member. He was panting and looking at you like you were a miracle.

“My turn,” he said darkly, pulling your arm until he had you sitting on his lap, kissing your face and neck all over while he unbuttoned your blouse.

“I–,” you stuttered. “I’m actually k-kinda tired.”

“Tired?” Chenle stopped his kisses and touches and looked at you in surprise before quickly collecting himself. “That’s okay, you don’t have to do anything. I’ll take care of you,” he promised as he finished opening your blouse.

You pulled away, with your blouse completely open, and looked down at a very confused Chenle.

“I’m not really in the mood anymore,” you shrugged and his mouth fell open in shock.

“A-are you sure? Because your scent–”

“Pretty sure. I’ll call a taxi,” you said, grabbing your phone.

“N-no, I’ll…I’ll drive you,” a very defeated Chenle said, slowly getting up and getting dressed.

Admittedly, you had made him feel very good. Hell, that was better than good, it was mind blowing. But he just couldn’t be satisfied if he was the only one who got to feel good.

He could smell how aroused you were, and sometimes he felt like he could taste how close you were to cumming. Yet he never had the chance to make it happen. He was afraid that if he didn’t fulfill his duty as a fuckbuddy you would end things real fast.

So he kept showing up whenever you called and doing whatever you wanted for about a month, only to be dismissed whenever he felt like he had you.

One night he had been particularly lucky; you had him completely naked, on his back, with you wearing only your bra, straddling him and letting him slide just the tip into the most delectable warmth known to him.

“You’re s-so good,” he muttered, fixated on the way the tip of his cock disappeared inside of you. “So good…” he repeated.

“Yeah? You like it?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady. You were more affected than you wanted to admit and you were playing a dangerous game because you had never been this close to cumming during your previous encounters with him. You should stop now and use your hand or mouth like you usually did, but he was stretching you so good.

“I love it,” he groaned, arching his back and licking his lips. “I love you,” he breathed out.

You moaned. For the first time in weeks you moaned.

He had just said he loved you. Three words you didn’t need in this type of relationship but that somehow brought a wave of pleasure to your body and made you lose strength and accidentally go lower, him sinking deeper in you.

Chenle watched in awe how you took more of him and he grasped your hips desperately.

You looked at each other with wide eyes as you tried to catch your breath.

But this time Chenle reacted faster than you did, snapping his hips up and making your vision go blurry.

Before you had time to recover he did it again. And then again, and again until he had you bouncing on his lap.

“C–Chenle, let m-me…,” you moaned, placing your hands on his lower abdomen to stop him from thrusting up. “Let m-me do it, pup,” you offered, knowing that if he kept it up you would cum soon.

He stared back at you, disobediently, and since you weren’t letting him push his hips up freely, he brought you down, hitting a spot that had you gasping for air.

“Shh…I–I got it,” he spoke through gritted teeth, speeding up and trying to hold back his own orgasm to pleasure you.

Your body tensed in his firm grasp and the volume of your angelic moans escalated.

A sense of pride filled his chest.

He was making his mate feel good.

He was finally going to make you cum.

“Yes, yes, come on, c-come on, come on,” he muttered urgently.

“NO!” you yelled. “STOP!”

He hesitated momentarily and it was enough for you to break free and run to the bathroom, leaving poor, flustered Chenle on the bed alone.

You entered the bathroom and locked the door behind you, leaning against the door and taking deep breaths to calm down, but the tingling feeling in your center was urgent. You normally waited until you got home to touch yourself after meeting up with Chenle, but your orgasm was right there. You just couldn’t wait.

So you didn’t.

You held your breath and inserted a finger inside of you, trying to get yourself off before Chenle came looking for you–

“Y/N?”

Fuck.

“Y/N, are you okay?” he asked from the other side of the door.

“Mmhm, a-all good,” you said quickly, working yourself faster.

“Can you open the door?” he asked worriedly.

“J-just give me a minute,” you spoke a little out of breath and bit your lip to catch any lewd sound that could give you away.

You didn’t hear him say anything else for a few seconds, but then the door handle shook hastily. He was trying to enter.

“Just a m-minute!” you repeated, closing your eyes at the incoming climax.

“What are you doing?” He growled from the other side, struggling with the handle.

A few whimpers escaped you when your thumb grazed your clit and he banged on the door loudly.

“Open the door!” he commanded. “Y/N I swear to god if you’re doing what I think you’re doing—”

You came with a shaky moan. It wasn’t scandalously loud, but he heard it for sure.

The door you were leaning on opened abruptly and you fell in the same arms that had you shaking earlier. When you looked up you were met with his livid eyes.

He turned you around hastily and brought the hand you had used to pleasure yourself to his face, easily seeing the sticky liquid spread on your fingers.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” he yelled

You were petrified, trying to come up with an excuse for your behavior. Nothing you could possibly say would make sense.

“I was so close to making you come but you ran away just so you could finish yourself in the bathroom?!”

You sighed. “I’ll help you finish now–”

“You think that’s what’s bothering me?!”

“Then what’s bothering you?” you asked dismissively. “Can’t a woman make herself feel good?”

“Of course you can! When you have no one to take care of you–” he let out a frustrated groan. “What I mean is that I’m right here, and I’m dying to make you feel good, but whenever I think I’m doing a good job you run away and take it away from me!”

“Maybe you’re not doing as much of a good job as you think,” you lied.

“Then teach me!” he basically implored. “Tell me what you like for once instead of making me cum as fast as you can and leaving.”

“Chenle,” you spoke more gently, making him look at you, and once again using that voice. “Trust me, you’re getting so much better. Just a few more nights and you’ll have enough experience to be allowed to touch me,” you offered.

His expression became softer, but he still looked hesitant, as he always did whenever you used your powers on him.

“I can’t let just anyone touch me,” you continued. “You have to earn it, don’t you think?”

“...Earn it?” he echoed, dismally.

“And you’re almost there, pup. But you have to keep doing as I say, okay?”

He nodded slowly and automatically. “Okay…”

“Good pup,” you praised him, caressing his hip. “Now, we can continue–”

“Actually,” he interrupted, gently pushing your hands away. “I’m kinda tired. Can we call it a night?”

You opened your mouth dumbly. “I…uh–Sure…”

“Thanks,” he murmured. “I’ll drive you home after I take a shower, okay?”

“Okay…,” you agreed, watching him go into the bathroom and close the door.

You tried not to think too much about it, but for the next couple of days, it killed you to think that maybe he was getting bored of you. But how could it be? Didn’t he say he imprinted on you?

You didn’t want to commit to him, but you also didn’t want him to move on from you.

So when you received a message from Chenle asking if you had some time to hang out you typed your answer so fast anyone who saw you would know you were desperate.

Oh, how the tables had turned.

He picked you up and took you to the hotel as usual. Things seemed to be going the usual way, but when you opened the door you saw that the entire place was gracefully illuminated with candles and there was food on the table.

“What’s all this?” You asked.

“Dinner,” he replied, walking you to the table.

“What’s with the candles?”

“I like candles.”

“Don’t you think it’s too… intimate?” You asked, pointing at the decoration vaguely.

Chenle pulled a chair out and made you sit down by pushing your shoulders firmly.

“I’ve been inside you. It doesn’t get more intimate than that,” he deadpanned before walking around the table and sitting in front of you.

“Chenle, this looks like a date,” you pointed out.

“I guess it kinda does,” he admitted.

“That’s not part of the deal.”

“Oh? The deal won’t allow us to eat?”

“Not like this,” you said for a lack of better words to explain yourself. “It’s like you’re tricking me into dating you.”

“It’s just food and some wine. Don’t be dramatic,” he said before he started eating.

Hesitantly, you followed. He was right, it didn’t have to be romantic. You could do what you normally do after dinner. And the food was delicious! You enjoyed it so much that you lowered your guard and didn’t mind Chenle’s trivial questions about your life and the things you liked.

He looked more relaxed too after having a normal conversation with you and it made the atmosphere more enjoyable and sensual by the time you reached the bedroom, giggling as you undressed each other.

Chenle was in a great mood; teasing and joking as he climbed on top of you and kissed your face. He was also more obedient than usual letting you do as you pleased and waiting for your permission to touch you.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he laughed breathlessly, one hand by each side of your head to keep himself from crushing you while you pressed a bullet vibrator on the base of his cock.

“Good?” You teased, moving it up slowly until it reached the tip and then back to the base, making him moan shamelessly.

“Y-yeah,” he whispered, pecking your lips. “Everything m-‘my princess does f-feels amazing.”

Maybe the wine had taken its toll on you because you low-key liked that petname.

“Your princess?” You giggled, moving the small toy up and down deliberately.

Chenle’s eyes rolled back in pleasure. “Mhmm, you like that? Y-you wanna be my pretty princess?”

You nodded dumbly, drunk in desire, wine, and—even though you didn’t want to see it—adoration.

“You c—aah…You c-can be my princess anytime, you k-know that, yeah?” He half-moaned, blindly thrusting against the tiny toy you used on him.

“Y-yeah?” You croaked, licking your lips.

“Myeah, and I’ve…mmm fuck right there,” he hissed when you pressed the vibrator right under the head. “I’ve b-been a good p-pup for you, right?”

You nodded. “The best,” you said before giving him a kiss that was a little bit more affectionate than intended.

“Don’t I des— haa… deserve a reward?” He pouted.

You giggled, turning up the intensity of the vibrations and making him whine desperately.

“Oohh—oh g-god, princess —,” he knitted his brows in concentration, making the biggest effort to say something coherent. “I—aah… I actually wanted—ah!”

“What is it?” You asked, putting the toy away momentarily to not overstimulate the poor wolf and give him the chance to speak.

He took a few deep breaths and looked into your eyes with determination. “Go out with me.”

You suddenly sobered up and your dreamy smile faltered. “Chenle, no—“

“Why not?” He croaked. “We have such great chemistry when we spend time together like two normal people. Or did you hate having dinner with me that much?”

“Dinner with you was great,” you assured him. “But that wasn’t our deal.”

“Let’s change the deal,” he pleaded.

“You said no strings attached,” you reminded him.

“No. You said that,” he accused.

“And you agreed.”

“I don’t know why I agreed!” He admitted. “Y/N, I—I don’t know why I keep saying those things; it makes no sense! I imprinted on you. I crave to be with you in every possible way, not just sexually. Can’t we at least try?”

“Chenle,” you sighed, feeling terrible. You didn’t mean for things to go this far. You thought any man would be happy with a shallow sexual agreement, but apparently it wasn’t Chenle’s case. You would have to use your voice again. “You don’t really want—Hhmp!“

Chenle’s hand covered your mouth before you could finish speaking. “Don’t,” he begged. “You always say weird stuff and I end up agreeing like an idiot.”

You let out muffled sounds and hit his arms but he didn’t budge. He was terrified of what you would convince him of if he let you speak.

So you quickly grabbed the vibrator that lay forgotten on the bed, turned it on on the highest setting, and pressed it harshly against the leaking tip of his cock.

He gasped and lost his balance and you managed to uncover your mouth and quickly finish your sentence: “You don’t want me!”

Chenle shook his head, distressed and trying to cover your mouth again, but you kept slapping his hand away while overstimulating his member. That, combined with the wine made his movements clumsy and inefficient. “P-please, d-don’t say tha—aaaah…”

“You don’t want to be with me. You only want me for sex,” you insisted and your voice almost broke when you saw Chenle’s saddening expression.

His imploring eyes finally turned into void ones, as expected when under a siren’s spell. At the same time, his body tensed and he came with a silent scream, staring into your soul.

You finally turned the toy off and the room was silent.

Then a hot, wet drop landed on your face. You looked up and saw abundant tears coming out of Chenle’s expressionless eyes.

“Chenle?”

“Yes?” He replied monotonously.

“Why are you crying?”

He blinked slowly. “I don’t know.”

Your stomach dropped. He looked so calm in his own daze, unaware of how you kept dismissing his feelings. Ignorant of how you kept convincing him of things he didn’t want whenever he tried to connect with you.

Yet he was crying.

Oh no. You had broken him.

You couldn’t stop yourself from crying too.

“What’s wrong?” He asked you quietly.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” you sobbed. “I’m trash—no, I’m worse than trash.”

He hesitantly placed a hand on your back. “No. You’re perfect…,” he assured you, just like he had told his leader a long time ago. Even in his confused state, he couldn’t think of you being anything but perfect.

You sobbed harder. He deserved better.

You cleaned him up and caressed his hair until he fell asleep. Then you sneaked out, feeling like you didn’t deserve to be around him.

Yeosang was right. You were selfish.

So you knocked on his door to apologize.

When Yeosang opened the door, he looked very surprised to see you, but he was more concerned about why you were awake and crying at 4AM.

“Y/N?” He asked, grabbing your hand gently. “What’s wrong?”

“Selfish is putting it lightly,” you said.

“Huh?”

“You said I’m selfish. But the truth is worse than that. I’m a bad person, Sangie. You’re right to be disappointed.”

He brought you into his room and closed the door, sitting you on his bed as he kneeled in front of you. “What happened?”

You told him everything. From the first encounter at the bar to what had just happened at the hotel.

Yeosang listened patiently, calming you down when your voice broke and encouraging you to go on when you sounded ashamed.

“Do you understand the problem now?” he asked.

You nodded, sobbing.

“People are not toys, Y/N.”

“I’m so s-sorry,” you whispered.

“I know. Recognizing your mistake is the first step,” he said, whipping your tears away with his thumb. “Now you need to fix things.”

“H-how?”

“By making a choice,” he confirmed what you were fearing. “Either you accept him–all of him, or you let him go.”

You nodded again. “That sucks.”

He chuckled. “It does,” he agreed, pulling you into a hug.

“I missed you,” you admitted, resting your head on his shoulder.

“I missed you too,” he said, hugging you tighter. He licked his lips before speaking again. “Sorry for asking this, but… did he make you–”

“Sangie!” you groaned, knowing what he was referring to.

“I’m not being nosy,” he explained quickly. “I know it’s personal, but if I’m asking it’s because it’s important.”

“He d-didn’t make me cum…” you confessed, feeling your face heat up.

“Ever?” he pressed.

“It almost happened many times,” you explained shyly. “But I always managed to stop it.”

“That’s impressive. It’s been about two months,” he calculated.

“Yeah,” you groaned. “Impressive.”

“Remember what I told you about orgasms?” he asked you

“Yeah,” you sighed. “That’s why I kept stopping him before it happened.

“That’s good news. It means you’re not completely tied to him,” he hummed. “Look, I contacted an old friend of mine—a siren. She imprinted once but she and her mate…they just had very different lifestyles. Different goals. So they didn’t consummate the bond.”

“Consummate meaning…?”

“She didn’t reach climax with her potential partner,” he explained. “Both of them went separate ways and never saw each other again. And you know what? She found love again.”

You pulled away from the hug to give him a surprised look. “She imprinted again?”

“No, not exactly,” Yeosang shook his head softly. “Sirens only imprint once in a lifetime. But she met someone else who could make her happy. What I’m trying to say is that you will live a good life no matter what you decide. Even if the goddess Amphitrite chose this guy for you, you can choose to live without him. And you will be fine.”

You bit your lip, deep in thought.

“Or if you want to stay with him–” Yeosang continued listing your options.

“No,” you whispered. “Not after the way I treated him. The most honorable thing to do is let him go so he can find a good partner.”

“Are you sure?” he asked hesitantly. “You could think it over–”

“No, Sangie…I’ve prolonged this long enough,” you gave him a sad smile. “The sooner I end this the better.”

Poor Chenle had no idea what transpired when he woke up alone in the same hotel room where he always met you, with a terrible hangover and missing you more than ever. He still hadn’t gotten used to the inexplicable emptiness in his chest that he felt every time he separated from you, but today it felt more haunting than usual. Not seeing you in the room made him question if you were ever there, or if you were just a product of Chenle’s imagination. Were you even real? Was he going crazy?

Thankfully your message took him out of what could have become an anxiety attack. You wanted to meet.

You had never contacted him two days in a row before. But what he found even weirder was that you were asking him to meet during the day. You also told him he didn’t need to book the room, which he found funny, because he owned the hotel, but he omitted that detail.

He went to pick you up at around 5PM, like you had requested, and he was taken aback when you asked him to go on a walk with him instead. If he was in his shifted form, he would be wagging his tail contently at the mere suggestion of sharing such a wholesome moment with you, but human Chenle was good at pretending he didn’t care.

He was so over the moon that he didn’t find it weird when you engaged in small talk and asked trivial questions like how he had slept if he had eaten or what his plans for the weekend were. You never cared much for any interaction with him which wasn’t quick sex, so this was a pleasant surprise for him.

You stopped at the beach. The same deserted beach where Chenle often went when he needed some time alone.

“I love this view,” you commented absentmindedly. “The ocean is the only place that makes me feel at home.”

Chenle took mental note of that. He would make sure to buy a house with the most beautiful ocean view.

He looked at you and stared in awe at how gorgeous you looked. He was sure it wasn’t the golden hour effect, because you always looked stunning to him.

You turned to look at him and caught him staring, so he cleared his throat and quickly looked away.

“Here,” he said, offering you a small shopping bag that he had been carrying.

“What’s this?” you asked curiously, opening the bag and taking out a delicate velvet box.

“It’s…for you,” he said, barely audible.

You opened the box and gasped when you saw what was probably the most beautiful and elegant necklace in the whole world. “Why?” you breathed out.

“I just saw it and thought of you.” he shrugged, still speaking very softly, like he was exhausted.

That was half true. He did choose it because he thought you would look ravishing.

The other reason was that he called Jaemin to ask him what that feeling of emptiness could mean, and he had theorized that it could be because he still hadn’t marked you. Since biting you was out of the question, Jaemin suggested he gave you a little token. It wouldn’t be as permanent as a mark, but his wolf surely would feel more at ease if he saw you carrying something of his.

Only Chenle would see costly diamond jewelry as tokens.

He looked at you attentively, panicking at your sudden loss of words.

“If it doesn’t suit your taste–”

“Let’s end things,” you said.

Now it was Chenle’s turn to be speechless.

“...W-what?” he asked weakly.

“I’ve been thinking about it and I think it’s for the best,” you explained, closing the box in your hand and putting it back in the bag, offering it back to him.

He glared at the bag offendedly. “No, it’s not!” he countered.

“Yes, it is,” you insisted, shaking the bag in your hand closer to him but he took a step back. “This isn’t working.”

“I’ll make it work,” he hissed. “You’re not fucking leaving me.”

“That’s not your choice–”

“Nothing has been my choice!” he yelled. “You’re always bossing me around and doing whatever you want but now it’s suddenly not working?! I didn’t put up with your shit for you to leave me like this–”

“See? You hate the way I treat you, so why do you want to keep this up?!” you asked, once again trying to make him grab the bag, but he grabbed your arm and pulled you towards him instead.

“Because I love you!” he growled. “And you know it, even if you play dumb. I know you see it in the way I look at you, I know you feel it in the way I touch you and I know you’ve heard me moan it when you have your way with me. Sometimes a weird voice in my head tells me that’s not true,and that what we have is just sex, but– that’s not my voice and—” he trailed off, trying to make sense of the opposing ideas he had in his head. “Yeah, I hate how much of a bitch you are sometimes, but I won’t give up on us, you hear me?!”

You almost gave in.

But you reminded yourself he deserved better.

There was one way he may let you go without you having to use

“I’m not happy with you, Chenle,” you said firmly.

His entire world came crashing down around him. He only reacted when he felt you trying to break free from his grasp. He tightened his hold on you. He was not going to let you go.

“Why not?” he breathed out.

“I’m just not,” you said, trying to keep the tears at bay. “I get nothing out of being with you.”

“I’ll change that. I’ll do anything you say–” he said, swallowing his pride.

“And then what?” you asked coldly.

“Then we–,” Chenle looked around nervously, and licked his lips, looking for the right thing to say, anything that would make you stay. “We become w-whatever you want us to–”

“So you’re okay with me leaving with my crew when the time comes?” you rolled your eyes. “I’m not staying here, and you’re not coming with me–”

“I’ll go,” he said quickly, squeezing your arm so hard it hurt. “I’ll go wherever you want–”

“I don’t want you to come with me, Chenle, fuck!” you screamed. “I want you to leave me the fuck alone, okay?!”

He froze, finally relaxing his deadly grasp on your forearm. You pulled away carelessly, dropping the precious gift on the sand, and walked away.

Chenle stayed right there for who knows how long.

He doesn’t even remember dragging his feet to get back home while hugging the wrinkled paper bag close to his chest. All he knows is that at some point he was fully clothed under the bed covers, feeling that dreaded emptiness expand inside of him.

#nct drabbles #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct smut #chenle #chenle x reader #chenle smut #chenle nct #chenle scenarios

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