#bartender cocktail game
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superiorhart · 2 months ago
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They're like different fonts of each other
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humhowellujah · 11 months ago
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i'm drunk off two lavender martinis what the fuck do you MEAN dan and phil went on a step by step recreation of their japan trip as a part of a HONEYMOON episode for their sims. be so fr rn be so serious please. dan howell you have 4 minutes to respond . phil, keep it up babygirl. lavender martini recipe in the tags
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toadtaverngame · 7 months ago
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If you like games like Coffee Talk and Va11halla...
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you should check out, Toad Tavern 🐸
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Toad Tavern is a 1920s bartending sim where you mix drinks, master recipes, and learn about your froggy clientele.
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Toad Tavern is currently being developed by a team of 14 people located in Puerto Rico. If you want to see more of the game, follow our development here and on all our other channels.
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dilfosaur · 2 months ago
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eats my entire fist @ the bartender adding glitter to my beelzemon cocktail bc he was in his babygirl card holder
(tcg/board game cafe & bar Fun in tokyo!!!!)
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velvetures · 6 months ago
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Soap would be so fucking protective of you, and I can’t get it out my head. So now it’s your problem :)
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You don’t like drinking? He’s the first to draw attention away from the lack of a beer bottle in your hand. Using that irresistible charm to woo everyone out of their questions and peer pressure to get you to join in. He sees how nervous it makes you. And he’s far too sensitive to your feelings to let it happen. Besides… he’s gotten really good at giving the right orders to bartenders, so that he can give you some fruity, soda-laden thing, that passes off as one of the other cocktails all your friends are nursing.
Uncomfortable family dinners? You know, that one where your least favorite uncle is oh-so-willing to give you shit for not going into the career all of them think you should’ve pursued? Oh hell no. Soap won’t spend one second thinking over whether it’s polite or not to speak up. He just does. Abandoning your mom’s casserole he’s been complimenting with a full mouth, just to look your bastard of an uncle in the face and tell him he’d be better off complaining to the business end of a pistol. At least then, he’d get a response that would shut him up for good.
That ex who won’t take ‘no’ for an answer? He’s as good as dead. Not that he’s instinctively jealous… because really, he knows better. It’s just the mere thought of someone taking advantage of your life. Of your time. He’s livid because you’re too special to be harassed like that. Treated like a game that can be picked up and put down whenever the mood arises. Soap won’t make a spectacle of it… but the monthly calls and texts suddenly stop after a while. And you think it’s because you finally broke down and changed your phone number a second time. But… that hadn’t stopped your ex the first time. Soap just shrugs. Giving the excuse that common sense might’ve given him a change of heart. Johnny just didn’t have the heart himself to tell you that ‘common sense’ didn’t have the chance. He was far quicker.
Soap had lived a life so uncomfortable for so long, that seeing a sweet thing like you experience it becomes intolerable. It’s as if all of the killing and destruction he’s committed was for nothing, when something -even trivial- blockades your walk through life. His nature is to fix the problem. And his training only enhanced the instinct to do it violently. Quick and controlled action, using brute force to make the world spin to your tempo. And god… you hate when he does it. Constantly reassuring him that you’re an adult. That you’re prepared for life not to be easy, and that it’s only going to make you stronger in the end.
He won’t hear it though.
He wants you soft. Desperately, actually. More of a requirement for his own happiness than anything. And often times he thinks that it’s selfish. That maybe he is truly robbing you of some experiences that might be good for you. Make the life you lead interesting for the kids and grandchildren you tell stories to. But then again, he’s so staunch in his ways, that it comes to fruition like muscle-memory. Placing you on your silken throne and taking a defensive stance in front of you like a medieval knight hellbent on keeping his royalty alive and well.
John MacTavish knows your place and it’s to be behind him. Right where he can protect and provide, without the fear of you crying or getting hurt by the seemingly endless amount of people who unfathomably don’t want the same things for you. They all say they love you… want the best… but he challenges it.
Every. Single. Time.
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javiscigarette · 1 year ago
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Bad Fun
Joel Miller x f!reader
Summary: Jealous Joel takes you in the bar bathroom. (Inspired by the like five jealous Joel requests that have been sitting pretty in my inbox for weeks).
Warnings: smut, established relationship, (semi) public sex, slapping, degradation, hair pulling, pretty rough (consensual!) sex, possessive Joel <3, heavy on the dirty talk and daddy kink no use of y/n
w/c: 3.4k
A/N: Answered a request? How very unlike me. Idk why but you guys were thirsty for jealous Joel but I am not complaining! Also two fics in a week? who am I turning into?
my masterlist
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You can feel his eyes on you, even with your back turned to him. And you can see the way the men look over your shoulder, casting anxious glances at the man who’s now giving them an icy glare. 
“Well, if you ask me, I’d say you’re far too young and pretty to be hanging around with a man like that” one of them says as he casually places a hand on your midback. 
You raise an eyebrow at him, but you don’t say anything about his hand on you. 
“A man like what?” you ask innocently.
Almost everyone in Jackson knew about you and Joel. The two of you were practically glued at the hip, if there was one of you, then the other wasn’t far away. Joel usually had a protective arm draped your shoulders, keeping you safely tucked away under his arm. Or a hand tucked in the back pocket of your jeans as you walk the streets of Jackson together, giggling at some inside joke like you were the only two people in the world.  
And most men knew that you were off limits. Most of them were smart enough not to test Joel like that, fully aware of the repercussions that come with going after his girl. But these younger men, the one’s around your age, were still ballsy enough to push the boundaries. 
The man laughs, his hand slowly sliding further down your back. 
“He’s just a bit old for you, isn’t he? He’s like 50, isn’t he?”  
You bite your lip to hold back a laugh. You glance over your shoulder at Joel where he’s seated at a table across the room with Tommy and a few other guys from patrol. He has his front turned to you as he leans back in chair, one hand wrapped around his glass of whiskey and the other resting casually on his crotch. His eyes are dark as he watches you carefully and a small but dangerous smirk is tugging at the corner of his mouth. 
“More years of experience” you quip, turning back around and taking a sip from the cocktail that one of them bought for you. 
The boys laugh, and the hand on your back slides down even lower until he’s inches away from your ass. You allow it, fully aware that Joel is still watching you.  
“Maybe” he says, stepping closer towards you and closing the space “But I bet I could last longer than him.” 
You supress another laugh as images of Joel fucking you into the mattress for hours flashing through your head. If only they knew. 
“Buy me another drink and maybe I’ll want to find out if you’re right” you say, looking at him through your lashes trying to feign innocence. 
The man smirks, entire too confident in his abilities to pull someone else’s girlfriend, much less Joel Miller’s girlfriend. You giggle as he rushes to turn around and find the bartender, flagging him down and pointing to your empty glass. 
These men are cute enough, boyish faces with a youthful sparkle in their eyes. Still, they’re obviously not you’re type and you’re far from being interested in slightest.
It’s not the flirting that fun, it’s what comes after. 
Joel watches you for a few more minutes, his skin growing hot with jealousy as he watches the man inch his hand further and further down your back. But he doesn’t intervene. If he didn’t know any better, those men would be on the floor before they even got the chance to touch you. 
But he’s not that naïve. He’s played this game with you before and he knows exactly what you want. 
He downs the rest of his whiskey and sets the glass on the table before standing up and heading towards the bathroom. He crosses your line of sight on the way but doesn’t make any effort to acknowledge you. 
He knows you’re watching. 
“I’ll be back, you boys have fun without me” you say quickly before finishing your drink and setting the empty glass on the bar. You don’t give them a chance to respond before you’re slipping away and heading towards the bathroom. 
Your entire body is vibrating with excitement as you practically run after Joel, heady desperation mixing with the alcohol in your veins. There’s only one bathroom and you only have to knock once before Joel swings the door open and yanks you inside. You giggle with excitement as he pushes you up against the door and clicks the lock in place. 
With one hand on your hip, he shoves a knee between your legs so that his thick thigh presses firmly against your core. 
“Such a fuckin’ slut” Joel growls. He brings his other hand up to grip your jaw, his fingertips digging in your cheeks and squeezing so hard that your mouth pops open.
“Can’t leave you alone for two goddamn seconds without you whorin’ yourself out.” 
The whiskey is heavy on his breath and his eyes are dark, his pupils blown from the liquor and lust making you clench around nothing, already hopelessly turned on. His grip on your both your hip and jaw are firm and unforgiving, serving as an indicator for what’s about to go down. You know that you probably shouldn’t push him more than you already have, but you can’t resist. 
“They were saying they could fuck me better.” 
Joel’s jaw tightens and his scowl deepens as he narrows his eyes at you. He’s still for a beat, and you bat your eyelashes at him innocently. Then within an instant, he manhandles you over to the sink, pinning your front against the fake marble countertop with his hips. You giggle again when you feel the bulge in his jeans pressing firmly against your ass as he holds you tight against him. 
He snakes an arm up the front of your body, his forearm resting heavy and warm between your breasts as he grips your jaw once again, forcing you to look straight ahead. Your gaze meets his in the mirror and a hot wave of arousal washes over you as he slips his other hand between your legs. 
“Jesus fuck” he groans quietly when he feels how wet you are.  
“I know what your little plan is, sweetheart” Joel murmurs as his fingers feather over your swollen, dripping seam. “Actin’ like a fuckin’ slut to get me to bend you over and make you stupid on my cock, right angel?”  
You just grin smugly and back up against him.  His eyes get even darker, and you can see the muscles in his jaw flexing subtly under his skin. 
You nod weakly and whine at his words, a jolt of electricity shooting down your spine as try to grind down on his fingers, desperately chasing after any sort of friction. But Joel’s not having it. He moves his hand away from your jaw briefly so he can deliver a sharp smack to your cheek. It’s not hard enough to truly hurt, but it’s definitely enough to make your eyes snap open and your skin tingle for a few seconds. 
“Use your words” Joel hisses, his fingers curling around your jaw once again.  
“Yes, Joel.” 
Another quick slap. 
“And mind your fuckin’ manners.” 
You whine again before correcting yourself. 
“Yes, daddy” 
Joel groans and rolls his hips against your ass in approval. You whimper when his hand leaves your core, but you’re quickly rewarded when he slides his two fingers, damp with your slip past your lips. You suck on them happily, satisfied with something finally in your mouth. You languidly roll your tongue around them, licking off arousal and coating them liberally with your saliva. Joel watches you through the mirror and leans in until his mouth is inches away from your ear. 
“Look at that” he whispers, his warm breath fanning over your ear and jaw. “My dirty little girl, so desperate for her daddy.” 
Hi cock twitches against you as he watches your eyes roll back as drool starts to leak out of the corner of your mouth, a small drop sliding down your chin. He curses under his breath and slowly removes his fingers from your mouth. You whine at the loss, but the sound quickly melts into a loud, drawn-out moan when he shoves them inside of you. He doesn’t give you any time to adjust, just starts pumping his two fingers in and out of you at a dizzying pace. He watches you in the mirror and forces you to watch too, his grip tightening on your face. 
“So fuckin’ wet for me already, angel” Joel groans. “Does actin’ like a goddamn whore turn you on, baby? S’that why your little pussy is already dripping all over my fingers?
“Daddy please” you pant, already embarrassingly close to release.
He just chuckles breathlessly as you squeeze around his fingers. Another loud moan tumbles past your lips when he adds a third finger. It burns in the best way, your sensitive walls stretching out around his thick fingers.
But he suddenly stills his fingers inside of you and the pleasure starts to quickly fade. You whimper and wiggle your hips, already missing the sensation. 
“Be a good slut and fuck yourself on daddy’s fingers.” 
You make a garbled sound in your throat and immediately start to grind your hips back. You try to position your body to get his fingers deep like they were before, but it’s no use. Only he knows how to get that perfect angle. With a frustrated huff and no other options, you double down on your efforts. You curl your fingers over the beveled edge of the fake marble countertop and push your hips back. 
The lewd squelching sounds of his fingers working your tight cunt open bounce off the walls of the small bathroom and into your ears, sending a wave of heat down your body. He groans next to your ear when you start squeezing his fingers so hard that you’re almost forcing them out. 
“Greedy fuckin’ slut” Joel whispers. “You gonna cum like this?” 
 He’s well aware that it’s not enough. But he loves to watch you try. 
“Can’t, Joel” you whine. You yelp when Joel pulls his fingers from you and delivers a sudden smack to your ass. 
“What’s my fuckin’ name?” Joel hisses, squeezing your jaw even tighter. You wouldn’t be surprised if you found bruises in the shape of his fingertips in the morning. 
“Daddy” you whine, high pitched and needy.
He grunts approvingly then suddenly removes his fingers. You whimper quietly at the loss and watch through the mirror moves to unbuckle his belt. He shoves his jeans down just enough to free his cock then bunches the hem of your dress around your waist. 
“Tell me something, baby” Joel sighs, using both hands to spread your cheeks and exposing your burning heat to the cool room of the air. “Do you think they could fuck you better than I can?”
“No, daddy” you reply without missing a beat. 
Joel hums but doesn’t say anything as he takes a half step forward, pressing his cock against your dripping seam. You moan softly at the sensation, the smooth, warm skin of his tip rubbing against your puffy clit. He starts to rock his hips, slowly dragging his cock back and forth through your folds, lubing himself up with your slick. 
“Are you this fuckin’ wet for them?” he rasps, his fingertips digging into your hips.
“No, daddy” you gasp. 
“Then who’s this pussy so needy for?” Joel taunts, the fat tip of his cock notching at your entrance. 
You clench around nothing and ty to push your hips back against him, but the sharp spank he lands on your ass stops you. 
“You daddy! Please daddy, only for you.” 
“That’s right, angel” Joel praises, bringing both hands to your hips. “You’re fuckin mine.”  
With that, he pushes inside and buries himself to your hilt in one fluid movement. Your knees buckle and your head falls forward, hanging between your shoulders, but the arm he wraps around your waist keeps you upright. He holds you tight in place and snaps his hips against your ass, knocking all the air out of your lungs and getting impossibly deep with each thrust. You try to bite back the loud moans but it’s a lost cause when he finds the angle where his tip kisses your cervix with every stroke. 
He starts pounding into you faster and removes his arm from your waist, his hand now trailing up your back instead. He fists his hand in your hair and pulls your head up and holds you there, forcing you to look ahead in the mirror. 
“You keep your eyes on me. Since you seem to have trouble rememberin’ who fuckin’ owns you” 
Your eyelids flutter, but you don’t dare close them. You stare at him through the mirror, eyebrows drawn together with your mouth hanging open, strained whines and moans slipping past your lips as he continues with his brutal pace. And he just smiles down at your almost cruelly. 
Joel laughs breathlessly from behind you when you let out a loud, broken moan and your cheeks heat up at the sound, knowing that there are people less than five feet away on the other side of the wall. It’s mortifying for you, but it only fuels Joel’s fire. 
 “M’not gonna cover your mouth, sweetheart” Joel grunts, tightening his grasp in your hair even more. “Want you to let everyone in this bar know who’s fuckin’ you this good” 
Your eyes roll into the back of your head and the sounds start to freely pour out of you. The way he’s pounding relentlessly right into your g-spot causes the heat swirling in your belly to start burning hotter. Your knees are starting to buckle and your fingers scramble on top of the countertop, searching for purchase on the smooth surface as you try to keep yourself upright. 
Joel isn’t any help. He just watches you carefully in the mirror as he slams into you so harshly that you’ll probably have light purple bruises on your hips from where you keep hitting the edge of the counter. And the way his cock starts pulsating inside of you when you start clenching around him drives you both crazy. 
Your whole body feels on fire now with tingles spreading from your lower abdomen and up your spine to the rest of your body. You know he won’t let you finish. You’ve gotten yourself in this exact situation more than enough times to know that. And you also know how annoyingly in tune he is with your body he is, noticing every single miniscule cue you display. 
So, you try to hide it. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, trying to suppress your moans and you try to take deep breaths to calm yourself down, but it’s no use when you start to shake.  Joel groans then lets out a dark chuckle from behind as you tremble and reflexively clamp down around him, letting you know that yeah, of course he fucking noticed. 
He leans forward while simultaneously pulling your back by your hair until his lips are brushing the shell of your ear and whispers “Bad girls don’t get to cum”  
He then pulls out and takes a step back fisting his cock. 
“Get on your knees” Joel commands before you even have the chance to whine at the sudden loss. 
You automatically sink to your knees, leaning heavily into the sense of submission that starts to cloud your brain. He looks down at you and smirks at the captivated look on your face as you watch him steadily stroke his cock. The thing is, you can pick up on his cues too, no matter how much he tries to hide behind the façade of his dominance. You can see it in the way his heaving chest starts to flush, the dark blush spreading up his neck and to his cheeks. His breaths get quicker, fand he has a harder time keeping the whines out of his moans. 
You look up at him from your spot on the floor with wet, glassy eyes and he curses under his breath at the sight. 
“Open your mouth, baby.”
You obey and part your wet lips. 
“Good girl” he groans, taking a step forward until he’s inches away from your face. “Daddy’s gonna cum in your mouth, babygirl. D’ya want that?” 
You nod vigorously and give him a small whimper for good measure.  
“Please, daddy” you whisper, sticking your tongue out.
 Joel curses again and his hand on his cock starts to move faster while his free hand moves to the back of your head. Your scalp is already sore from the grasp he had on it earlier so you’re relieved when he doesn’t pull, just gently tangles his fingers in your hair to hold your head in place. 
“Knew you would. You’re just a slut for daddy’s cum, aren’t you?” he teases breathlessly. 
“Please daddy!” you whine again, not at all ashamed of the desperation in your voice.  
Joel grunts and his wrist faulters again as he stares at your awaiting tongue. You wait as patiently as you can, subtly trying to squeeze your thighs together searching for any bit of friction you can get. 
“Fuck angel you look so good like this” he groans, his hips involuntary rolling up to meet his fist. “On your knees waiting for daddy to cum like a good fuckin’ slut.” 
You glow under his praise and start to say something, but Joel’s breathing starts getting heavier and his grunts and moans are getting louder and before you can say anything, he’s thrusting his hip forward to slide his tip past your lips. 
You instantly wrap your lips around him and he doesn’t push in any further, just keeps the tip in your warm, awaiting mouth, his cock pulsing as he unloads rope after rope of hot cum. You try your best to keep eye contact with him, but the feeling of his hot, salty release on your tongue has your eyelids fluttering as your head starts to go dizzy and floaty. 
You also try your best to keep his cum on your tongue, knowing that there was a reason that he didn’t push in all the way and fuck your throat. But it’s so much, it’s always so fucking much that you can’t stop some of it from sliding down your throat. 
“That’s my good girl, My go- ah fuck baby” Joel cuts himself off with a careless moan. You can feel your slick starting to leak out of you and down your thighs at the sound. 
“My good fuckin’ girl. All fuckin’ mine.” 
He hisses when you dip your tongue into his oversensitive slit and reluctantly pulls out of your mouth. You press your lips together, keeping your mouth closed and look up at him expectantly. He smiles down at you, his scowl gone and replaced by a lopsided, sated smile. 
Then he brings a thumb up to your bottom lip and tugs down softly and whispers “Show me.” 
You comply, opening your mouth and proudly showing him the small puddle of his cum on your tongue. 
“Now swallow, baby.” 
You do as your told, closing your mouth and swallowing, then opening again to show him. 
“Good girl” he praises gently. “So good for your daddy.” 
You beam up at him, absolutely melting under his praise. He removes his hand from your hair and reaches out to help you stand up again. He straightens out your dress, making sure to “accidentally” brush his fingers through the mess between your legs. 
“Now,” he starts, tugging the straps of your dress so that they sit evenly on your shoulders. “Go out there and talk to those boys again with the taste of my cum on your tongue.” 
Your skin heats up and you look at him with wide, silently pleading eyes. Those men were only feet away from the bathroom door. If they didn’t see you two go in together, they definitely heard you. 
And that’s exactly what Joel intended. So, he just gives you a devilish grin then pat your bum. 
“Go on, sweetheart. Be a good girl. For your daddy.”  
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duck-a-doodle · 5 months ago
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COD IMAGINES
TACTICAL CUDDLE BUG 3/4 Chapters 1 / 2 / 3 / 4
TF141!reader x 141
Masterlist
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The most serious member of the 141 is secretly a very affectionate person.
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You had half the mind to dig yourself a grave and jump in with all the other skeletons in your closet. Over the last two weeks, you have been christened 'cuddle bug', 'koala', and now 'cub'.
After the first two times you had let yourself be that vulnerable before your team, Johnny would consistently open up his arms and wiggle his brows at you, offering himself up as a body pillow for you to cuddle. You turned him down to his mild disappointment, but the teasing does not stop.
Whenever the Captain was silent with fury, Gaz would come up behind you and go, "how 'bout you give him a hug? I bet he'd be in less of a mood after that."
And when you sparred with Ghost, he'd tell you, "don't go falling asleep on me now, cub."
The jibing died down after a while until all of you went to a pub to watch a game after a mission, and all of you sat on the bar stools.
You were following the game just fine from the telly, and being able to enjoy yourself for the first time in a while, you decided that a having little more to drink would be safe.
Deeper into the game, Ghost, Gaz and Price had sat themselves in a rounded booth seat while you remained with Johnny at the stools by the bartender, ordering more cocktails and beer.
Now, the 141 were glad that you trusted them enough to drink with them, but they had not anticipated for you to reveal that night that you were an affectionate drunk.
They were initially under the impression that you were a sleepy drunk, until you slid off the bar seat and shuffled yourself onto Gaz's side of the couch, proceeding to wrap your arms around his stomach with your legs splaying out under the table. And there you rest, with your forehead resting on the edge of his shoulder
"Ah shite, sorry Cap, I thought the bugger looked o'lrighte."
"I thought our sergeant was sleeping at the bar?"
"Well, yes, ah mean no. Ah was messin' with the bugger when ah said ter give Gaz some love, how's ah supposed ter know it'd work?"
"I'm fine Captain", you mumbled into Gaz's shoulder.
"Think the cub's tellin' the truth," Ghost teased from behind his glass of beer. "I think Gaz could use a tighter hug, eh?" He added, and Gaz shot him an exasperated look.
"Ghost, please- Bug? Oh no, wait, hey-"
Too late. You have clumsily but somehow very quickly rearranged your limbs, and in a tangle of arms and feet, you end up with your legs on either side of his lap and your hands reaching around his wide shoulders as best as you could.
"Ghost." He grumbles, resigned, letting you sleep comfortably into his red, cotton Henley. Johnny pulled out his phone and began collecting evidence. "Johnny." Gaz berated with a pointed look, but that was not about to stop him. In fact, the Captain joined in on the blackmail.
"Price," he sighed, now victim to the onslaught of three blackmailers and one very comfortable cuddle bug.
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A/N: Gaz has to carry your body out of the bar because you looked way too comfortable and he is simply too soft of a man to wake you up.
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temilyrights · 2 months ago
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just go with it
melissa schemmenti x fem!reader
summary: reader runs into an old frenemy at the bar and enlists melissa to play her date. hidden feelings are revealed. inspired by the movie just go with it.
word count: 3.8k
warnings: alcohol (beer), swearing, old bully.
a/n: this was so much fun to write! i hope you enjoy <3 i think i included all the warnings but as always pls let me know if i missed anything! if u wanna be added to my taglist just lmk or fill out my form on my masterlist!
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The night hadn’t exactly gone to plan, not that you were complaining. The Abbot family were supposed to be celebrating reaching the end of another quarter, even going as far as to select a bar up to Ava’s standards with extravagant cocktails and comfortable booths (but still with a generic enough dart board that Melissa would turn up). Ava had shoot down your usual place saying, “Girl, I’ve got a reputation to uphold and even entering that place would lose me 1K on Instagram,”
However things had immediately started to splinter when Gregory and Janine failed to turn up, still very much in the honeymoon phase of their relationship. And then Barbara had ordered two cocktails which had immediately gone to her head and called Gerald to come and pick her up. Jacob got a text for Avi and ducked out apologetically, Mr Johnson disappeared somewhere, and then Ava declared she couldn’t be seen dead out in only a group of three so she ditched, which meant less than two hours into the night only you and Melissa remained at the bar. 
You’d initially been irritated, having looked forward to a family night out all week. But when Melissa dragged you to the dart board saying “We don’t need ‘em.”, her hand warm in yours and her smile bright. You’d suddenly forgotten every thought you’d ever had.
“Another bullseye for me!” Melissa smirks victorious, dancing as she turns around to face you. “I think that means ya owe me a drink, hon.” 
You roll your eyes, but can’t bring yourself to care that deeply at the sight of the redheads joy. She seems to be having a great time, despite everyone leaving. And you’re determined to soak up every moment of this additional out-of-school Melissa time until she decides to call it a night. 
It feels like a blessing, and the sight of her in a strappy leopard print top with enough cleavage to cause your brain to short circuit when she‘d first arrived definitely didn’t hurt. She looked beautiful with her red curls down past her neck, and her brown leather jacket and red high heels on. Any day now you were gonna get this raging crush under control and not look at Melissa Schemmenti and see the sun, any day… 
…just not today if your traitorous heart had any say. 
“Another of the same?” You ask, nodding towards her beer with a grin on your lips. 
“You betcha.” She shimmies closer to you, her teeth biting into her lip. “And when youse get back we’ll have another game. If you can take the heat.” 
Your face heats up and you force out a laugh to cover up how wildly attractive you find her. You push yourself off the barstool and side step her. “Uh yeah, another game sounds good. I’ll be right back.” You step back, giving her a slightly too tight smile before you run away to the bar. 
So chill Y/N. Wow, excellent game. If she didn’t want you before, I bet she does now.
You groan as you approach the bar, resisting every bone in your body that wants you to slam your head very hard against the bartop to hopefully knock some sense into yourself because that was just plain embarrassing. Instead, you settle on waving down the bartender and ordering two yuengling's. 
They make quick work of your order and you pay and mutter a polite, “Thanks,” before turning away with your drinks, ready to head back to Melissa. Determined to not make a complete fool of yourself this evening. 
“Y/N L/N!” A shrill voice calls and your blood runs cold, “Oh my god, is that really you?” 
Your eyes fall close as you blow out a breath and send a hail mary that maybe, just maybe, that voice won’t be connected to the woman you believe it to be. 
Of course, life doesn’t work like that and when you open your eyes you come face to face with your old college ‘friend’. If a friend meant someone who constantly put you down and had to be better than you at all times. Suddenly the last day of college doesn’t seem long enough ago, god you could’ve gone the rest of your life without seeing this woman and that still wouldn’t have made up for the torment of the three years of friendship with her. 
“Alisha, Hi.” You grimace. “Fancy seeing you here.” 
“I know!” She cackles, “I’d never expect you to be somewhere this close to classy. I remember the dives you loved in college.”
Your smile tightens and you force a humourless laugh. “Well, great to see you Alisha, but I really should be getting back to-”
“No, no, no, come on we must catch up!” She interrupts. She shakes her hair performatively and presents her hand, showing off an obnoxious diamond, “I, of course, got married. My husband is here actually and you must meet him.”
“Congrats, but I really should be getting back to my-” 
“I’m sure your friend won’t mind.” Alisha waves a hand. 
She grabs the hand not holding the two bottles of beer, her face etched with pity. “I noticed you don’t have a wedding band. It’s okay, your time will come.”
You try to shake your hand free, but Alisha’s grip tightens. “Seriously, Y/N, not everyone can be as lucky as-”
“Hey hon, everythin’ alright?” Melissa interrupts, an obvious edge to her voice. Her hand perches on the small of your back as she gives Alisha a once over, and despite the other woman being four inches taller than her, you know Melissa could take her effortlessly. 
Alisha’s eyes widen before melting into a smirk as she extends her hand, “Alisha, Y/N’s closest friend from college.” 
Melissa looks at you before looking back at Alisha and scoffing, “Right.” 
Alisha drops her hand, but doesn’t look disturbed, in fact she looks more excited than you’ve ever seen her, if you exclude that one house party she threw where she got the entire football team to attend and ended up sleeping with the quarterback. 
More than slightly disturbed, you push the beer in Melissa’s direction, “Here, sorry.”
“Thanks, hon.” She accepts the drink, her fingers brushing yours as she does. 
You watch Alisha hungrily eat up the action, and you know what’s gonna happen next before she even opens her mouth. “So, you’re Y/N’s girlfriend?”  
The redhead’s eyes widen, her drink pausing on its way to her mouth. And before she can reject it, and Alisha’s face grows even more victorious in your pathetic aloneness, you jump in and answer. 
“Fiancée, actually.” 
You should be awarded an Emmy for the way you keep your face straight and don’t cringe as both Melissa and Alisha swing around to face you. 
“I left my ring at home,” You roll your eyes. “She only popped the question recently. Haven’t quite got used to wearing it yet.” 
“Really?” Alisha questions, eyes narrowing. “Well now you must join my husband and I for drinks. We can toast to the newlyweds and newly-engaged.” 
She grabs your hand, pulling you away before you can protest again. You look back at Melissa, silently begging for help, but she just watches you with an arched brow and smirk before she takes a long sip from her beer and saunters after you.
Alisha doesn’t release her grip until you reach the booth in the corner of the bar. Her husband, an even taller man, presumably quite handsome if you’re into that sort of thing - but in your opinion quite boring looking - sits scrolling on his phone and nursing what looks like a whiskey sour. 
“Honey, I found some friends.” She says, sitting down beside her husband. “This is my best friend from college Y/N, and her fiancée…oh,” Alisha tips her head, smiling widely “In all that excitement I didn’t get your name.” 
Melissa doesn’t respond, instead signalling you to slide in the booth first so she can be on the end. 
“It’s Melissa,” You respond, ignoring the redhead’s dark look for sharing her personal information. 
“Traitor,” She mumbles quietly into your ear, her breath hot. 
You roll your eyes, even as you struggle to breath properly. If she’d saved you when she had the chance you wouldn’t be in this situation. 
“What a lovely name,” Alisha gushes, and you don’t need to turn to see Melissa’s glare.
Alisha drops her head to her husband's shoulder, who wraps his arm around her back with a boy-ish grin, “And this is my husband, Victor.” 
“Ladies, nice to meet you.” 
You force a smile and take a long sip from your beer. 
“I was just saying to Y/N how funny it is running into her.” Alisha laughs, “We’re only in Philadelphia because the jet needed to refuel. It was not part of our plan,” She rolls her eyes, “Honestly, can you imagine living here?” 
“What’s wrong with Philly?” Melissa challenges, eyes narrowing
“I’m just saying it wouldn’t be my first choice.” She waves her hand, like she hasn’t said anything offensive. “Victor and I live in California, but we’re heading to Paris because this one’s talking at a convention for dentists.” 
“Wow, impressive.” You nod politely.
“You ended up here?” She asks, pity evident in her tone. 
“I chose here. I love Philly. I’ve got an amazing teaching job and an amazing group of friends. It’s a really good community.” You say seriously. There were some things Alisha could make you feel insecure about, but Philly was never going to be one of them. You were happy with your life. 
“And your fiancée, right?” She challenges, “How long have you been together?” 
Melissa’s arm wraps around your waist and she tugs you tightly into her side. You try not to let the surprise at the action show on your face. 
“Two years. Known each other for three through. She swooped in and saved me when the kids were drivin’ me mad and kinda hasn’t stopped since.” 
Your heart flutters as you stare at Melissa from beneath your lashes, warmth settling in your chest. You know the exact moment she’s talking about, it’s the first time you properly met, about a month into teaching at Abbott. You’d heard the commotion coming from her classroom while your first-graders were in music class, and had popped your head next door - just to check - and found a clearly stressed out redhead trying to control a large class of second and third graders. 
You’d made your way in, with a calm “How can I help?”. Melissa had just thrusted worksheets at you and pointed towards the third-graders. From then on you popped in to help whenever you had a free lesson, and if it meant staying later to catch up on lesson planning you decided it was worth it, especially as it led to one of your favourite friendships.
“You have kids?” Victor asks. “I love kids.” 
“No, teacher. We work together.” 
“Oh, that makes sense. Y/N was never one to have much of a social life outside of her work.” Alisha rolls her eyes, “Of course she’d have to meet her partner at her place of work too. She never had much luck when it came to dating, always so alone.” She juts out her bottom lip patronisingly. 
“I dated.” You defend, “I just happened to put my studies first, which was the whole point of being at college.” 
Alisha nods and takes a sip from her drink. Your eyes narrow at her. You don’t realise your hand has tightened into a fist until Melissa pulls it into her lap and begins gently caressing your knuckles, slowly coaxing it open again. 
Victor’s phone rings, an obnoxious beeping sound that shocks you enough that your hand pulls away from Melissa’s. You miss the touch instantly, wanting to reach back but knowing you shouldn’t. 
“Oh sorry girls, I should take this.” 
“He gets lots of important calls.” Alisha supplies proudly, as she slides out of the booth to let her husband out. Melissa lifts her brows, shooting you a look of disbelief and you struggle not to laugh.
They stand together beside the table. Victor drops his forehead to Alisha’s and inhales deeply. “Your beauty, your drive, your wit.” He breathes dramatically.
Alisha hums, “Your intelligence, your thirst, your strength.” 
Their nose’s rub together, and you swear your soul leaves your body as you watch them open mouthed in disbelief. You turn to Melissa whose face is screwed up in outright disgust. 
Alisha sits back down, a content smile on her face. “It’s something we do whenever the other person leaves. Say what we love most about each other.” 
“You really ain’t from Philly, huh?” Melissa laughs, taking a long sip from her beer. 
“You guys should try it.” 
“I ain’t doing-” 
“I don’t think-” Melissa and you both start to say at the same time.
“Not everyone can do it.” Alisha waves. 
Your eyes narrow and Melissa puts down her beer. 
“You know what, we’ll do it now.” You say, determined. 
Melissa smirks, eyes bright with challenge as she looks between you and Alisha. “Sure thing, hon.” 
“Okay, just look into each other’s eyes and say three things you love most about each other.”
You turn to face Melissa, knee’s brushing against hers. You blow out a breath, suddenly nervous looking at her this closely. Her green eyes hold your gaze, a reassuring smile on her face and it helps you steel yourself. 
“Okay. Uh, I love how much you care about the kids.” You start, easy, honest, tame. “You do so much for them, more than anyone even realises. But they love you so much. You’re a phenomenal teacher. You’ve got such a beautiful heart, even if you do try to keep it hidden.”
Melissa listens to you with soft eyes, a wet chuckle breaking from her lips.
“It’s not even just the kids. The things you do for Barbara, Janine, Me. You are extraordinary. I see how much you care, I see your kindness.” The words flow from your lips, the truth that you should probably keep hidden. 
She scoffs, shaking her head, “I ain’t that soft.” 
“I love how safe you make me feel.” Your breath shakes as Melissa’s eyes widen. God too much, too honest, but maybe she’ll just think you’re selling the lie and won’t know just how true every word coming from your lips is.
“Whenever something happens you’re the person I want to find. And you just know how to make it better. Before you, I never needed someone else, but now I literally…I just, I don’t know, I gravitate towards you. When I’m with you I just know everything is going to be okay. I feel safe, like together we could take on anything.” 
“I wouldn’t let anythin’ happen to you.” She smiles gently. 
Your heart stutters, “And your smile, god that smile.” It makes you soar, you can’t breath as words spill from your lips, “I love it. I look forward to lunch everyday because I know I get to see that smile. Your smile starts my day, and everytime I get to see it I feel like I’m doing something right.” 
She stares at you and you clear your throat, breaking your gaze. “And that's three.”  
Melissa grabs your hands, her fingers stroking your knuckles, prompting your eyes to return back to hers. “My turn.” 
You nod silently, unable to speak as you watch the women in front of you. Heart pounding. 
“I love your company. No matter my mood, it’s good. You’re just nice to have around. Whether I’m cookin’ for you, we’re drinkin’, or we’re stressin’ out over work. It’s fun with you.” She shrugs with a shy smile.
You grin. God your heart can’t take this. It still pounds and you can’t differentiate between truth and lie. She sounds so honest, eyes so gentle and you desperately want to fall in and believe every single word leaving her lips. 
“You’re stupidly generous too and I love you for it, even if it makes me wanna hit ya sometimes.” 
She rolls her eyes and you both chuckle. 
“You say I have a good heart, but I watch the way you keep giving to everyone around you without expecting anythin’ in return. You’re always offering to cover a lesson or lunch shift, even though I know it means you’re staying at school later to catch up on lesson plans.” 
You shift, you really hadn’t thought she’d noticed. “It’s nothing really.” 
“It’s somethin’. You’re good. Like, actual good, and you don’t find that often.” 
Your eyes soften, tears threatening to pool as you itch to reach out and pull her in, kiss her. 
“And you know what else I love? Your eyes.” She nods, with a shining smile. “When they catch the light? Stunnin’. They are so expressive, always shining, sayin’ things even if you don’t.” 
You draw in a sharp breath, eyes locked with hers. Wondering maybe if-
“I won a competition for the most beautiful eyes.” Alisha’s piercing voice interrupts. You jolt away from Melissa, having entirely forgotten about the other women’s presence. 
“I’m pretty sure I’d still win if you entered. No offence, Y/N.” She laughs shrilly. 
You drain the last of your beer, your chest still tight and your bearings off. 
Melissa snaps. “Alright, I’m done. I dunno if your parents were too nice to you as a kid or didn’t tell you they loved you enough but either way I don’t care. You ain’t speaking to my girl like that anymore, especially if you think your ugly ass fake contacts in any way compare to her stunnin’ fuckin’ eyes.” 
Alisha’s face finally falls. 
“So goodbye, we’re leavin’. And you and your guy can get the hell out of Philly fast before I find someone to jack your dang car.” She grabs your hand, fingers entwined with yours and tugs you from the booth with her. 
You laugh, feeling lighter the further away you get from the gobsmacked women you left behind. Melissa weaves you between people and out the bar, not letting go of your hand until you're safely outside and the door has shut behind you. 
“That was…” You look at the redhead, shaking your head and grinning, your entire body buzzing. “God, I just…”
She chuckles, her hand landing on your waist. “Come on, let’s get out of here.” Her other hand digs into her back pocket pulling out her phone, “I’ll call a cab.” 
Your heart thunders. Your hand reaching for her chin bringing her face back to yours. She’s so close…. “You are extraordinary.” 
Her cheeks pink as she tries to shrug off your touch, “Y/N,”
“No.” You breathe, bringing her back to look at you. Your gaze falls to her red painted lips, your chest tightens. And you know you could let go, step back and you’d both pretend this moment had never happened, but you don’t want to. 
You want to lean in and kiss those pretty lips. Finally say fuck the point of no return. Because all the fears and risks that were keeping you from plunging in all seemed irrelevant when your body felt this alive. 
It’s like you’d finally woken you and you knew you didn’t want to go another day without kissing Melissa Schemmenti. 
You lean in. Melissa’s shaky breath expelling against your lips before she meets yours. Tentative at first, once, twice, three times, before her hand fists into your shirt and yours moves to her hair, and then a moan is pulled from her lips and your gone. Frantic and heated you devour each other. Her phone is roughly shoved into your back pocket so she can paw at your ass and then she’s walking you back into the wall. Her body is finally flush against yours and you gasp in delight as you drown in the sensation, unable to think clearly as you passionately kiss her.
When you finally separate, you’re both breathing heavily, foreheads resting against each other. Melissa’s lipstick is a mess, her lips swollen, and you think she’s never looked more beautiful. 
“Ya mess.” She tuts affectionately, breathing still broken as she reaches out to wipe her lipstick from your lips. 
“And who’s fault is that?” You chuckle, grinning like a fool. 
She rolls her eyes and you want to kiss the expression off her face. You lean in to do just that, but she steps back, her eyes shifting away from you. 
“Hon,” She shakes her head, finally wiping the lipstick off from around her own mouth. 
A pit lands in your stomach, panic coursing through your body. No. You’ve come this close. You weren’t losing her now. 
“You can’t tell me you don’t feel this too.” 
She looks at you, eyes soft and pained, “‘Nd you can’t want this.” 
“Did you not hear a word I said in there?” You ask incredulously. “God, Mel, all of that. Every single word. I meant that.” 
“You meant it?” She questions, unsure. 
You shrug, vulnerable, exposed. “Of course. How could I not? You’re the best person I've ever met.” 
She scoffs, wet, stumbling forward back into your arms. “Fuck you.” She murmurs and captures your lip. You expect it to be harsh and heated, but she’s so gentle and slow, her lips tenderly moving against yours like you’re something to be treasured and if she pushes too hard you might break. 
You tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, caressing her cheek lovingly when you separate. She watches you in awe, eyes so gentle and you’ve never felt so content in your life. 
“I meant everythin’ too.” She confesses.
You grin and press a quick peck to her lips. “I had my suspicions.” 
She rolls her eyes, “Whatever. You wanna actually get out of ‘ere?” 
You laugh, “Yes, please.” 
“Leftovers and beers at mine?”
You hum in delight, not missing the way Melissa’s eyes darken, her eyes dropping to your lips. “That sounds perfect. And watch something on Netflix?” 
“Whatever you want, hon.” She responds, dragging her gaze away. “I’ll call a cab now.”
She takes a couple steps away, to make the call and you unashamedly watch her the entire time. Your eyes taking in her figure and lingering on her ass. Because, hey, who can blame a girl. 
It was Melissa goddamn Schemmenti. 
Your teeth pulling at your bottom lip, do nothing to suppress your grin.
I guess you really might have to thank everyone in Abbott for leaving tonight if this was the result. 
You weren’t quite a big enough person to thank Alisha. 
You would have gotten there without her.
Eventually.
taglist: @aburman03
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gremlingottoosilly · 8 months ago
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bouncer könig would be an absolute powerhouse and nightmare to get rid of. you’re just some poor girl trying to dance with your besties but can’t help but notice the pair of eyes staring you down from across the room, and mysteriously no men are approaching you.
You know these extremely closed and secret German parties that are only open if the stars are aligned, and you have better chances of getting into Harward than partying in one of those clubs? Yeah, Konig got himself a sweet hustle being a bouncer in one of those, but in Vienna. He gets to maul some dumb college kids, get some free molly whenever some of the richer party-goers are feeling high and charitable, and have something to do between deployments. He cracks his knuckles after getting some rowdier guy out of the venue, and then his eyes fall on you. You're cute, trying a bit too much, and obviously uncomfortable - probably your first night out, and he can sense that you're not going to have fun in the overcrowded techno party where half of the people are trying too hard, and the other half is already high off their heels despite no drug policy. On a normal night, he wouldn't let you in - you're going to be a miserable fill of space for an hour or maybe more and leave with the worst night of your life and disappointed friends. However, it is kind of a slow night, and it's almost end of his shift. He can indulge himself a little. Setting a rift between you and your friend group - apologizing before you for letting them in before you. Saying something about the club being overcrowded already and that he didn't even notice you at first. You'll come inside as soon as someone else leaves - and you can even chat with him a bit since you're in such close proximity. You look nervous, uncertain. You look really fucking tasty. He drops his hand over your hip in a lazy manner, squeezing the material of that dumb cocktail dress you wore. He can forbid you from entering right here because of the fucking dress - you're trying too much, this is not a school party, and you're obviously not comfortable enough in heels to even dance if he does let you in, but he is charitable today. You're allowed in after he thoroughly squeezes your thighs and pats you on your ass in a poor attempt at trying to check out if you have anything hidden - and after he takes away your phone. House policy, he says. You don't dare to question it, eager to meet up with your friends. Konig watches you dancing, the way your ass moves in that tight dress - god, the outfit might be too much for a house music party, but he loves seeing a pretty thing like you. No one dares to get close once they see the line of his sight, and even the bartender knowingly nods, giving you some free shots in preparation to be taken home by the bouncer. Everyone is in on the game - Konig isn't the one to abandon a toy once he set his eyes on it, so you can be sure that he will drag you out of the club by the end of his shift...and you're going to be his pretty thing for the rest of the night - a all foreseeable future.
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hwaslayer · 2 months ago
Text
wildfire (cs) | five.
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—spotify playlist | series masterlist
—summary: assistant professor in bioengineering, incredibly attractive, lonely and divorced; that’s how most people describe san. but despite the events that have happened in his life, san has a lot going for himself. he’s a successful, sought out professor due to his brilliant contributions to science at just an early age of 32. he worked hard to get where he was now; head deep into his research, his publications, building his lab and creating a name for himself. everything was good and smooth sailing— until it wasn’t. because when he meets you, a bioengineering grad student interested in rotating in his lab, he finds himself ready to risk all the blood, sweat and tears he put in throughout the years just to keep you close— his need for you spiraling out of control like a wildfire.
—pairing: asst. professor!choi san x grad student!f. reader
—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, grad school au | fluff, angst, smut
—word count: 7k
—chapter content/warnings: cussing, mature language/sexually implied content, alcohol consumption and intoxication, drunk texts, mingi's plan is 100% nawttt working lol, mcdonalds for the drunchies!!, san opens up a bit about the whole iseul x yunho thing, making out, some lil neck kisses, sprinkle of dry humping, the talk happens 😀
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"Last one!" Felix yells in the dining area of his shared apartment. You, Jiung, Felix, their roommates, Eunchae, Jurin and a bunch of other people decided to pre-game at the apartment before heading over to the bar for the 'welcome to the new quarter' happy hour event. You all take one last shot before heading out as a group, their building on campus being the closest to the downtown scene.
On the way over, there's groups on groups of students and other guests flowing through the streets— the loud roars and chatter echoing throughout the area. It's nice to see everyone excited for the event, keeping everyone in good spirits and in good morale for the quarter.
You cling onto Jiung as you find the alcohol quickly running through your system. Your cheeks feel hot; body all tingly, the world spinning a little more than usual. When you finally arrive to the bar, you flash your student badges and ID to the security before walking in. The music is blaring through the bar, the bass causing the walls to vibrate. The bar has enough space to accommodate all the heads walking in— a huge area to hang out, drink and vibe near the dj and bar on the main floor that opens up to the back patio. There's also a loft area for people to hang out at, a few arcade games lining the walls along with high tables and seats. 
The group walks in, greeting a bunch of other friends and familiar faces as everyone settles at tables near the back patio; the air feeling nice amongst the stuffiness in the bar. Felix and Jiung start ordering a bunch of shareable appetizers, while you slip away to head to the bar and skim through the limited cocktail menu for tonight's happy hour event. You bounce along to the music while debating between two options, finally making your decision just as more people pour in and the crowd cheers at the song that comes blasting through the speakers. You turn to give the bartender your order, slipping him one of the free drink vouchers you were given at the door. Suddenly, Eunchae comes to your side, drunkly squealing and squeezing your arm.
"Girl, the party has officially started." You furrow your brows as she steps aside and nods towards the door. In walks in San, Chris, Jongho, Mingi, Yeosang and Namjoon. You could feel your heart beating against your chest, and you're not sure why. You could be a 'lil excited he's here even though you would never do anything so bold, so daring, in front of everyone else.
But, he's here. He'll see you, and you'll see him.
"I definitely wasn't expecting them to come."
"Why not?! You know how Namjoon is. He loves his social events." She smirks. "Time to show off the goods!" She squeezes your ass just as she places a quick order with the same bartender.
"Eunchae!" You squeal, grabbing your drink from the bartender after getting yourself together. "They'll do their own thing and we'll do our own thing. No goods need to be shown." You playfully tap the tip of her nose, making her giggle.
"I mean, I dunno. Eyes could always wander, ya know?" 
"Let's not get our hopes up, shall we? I'm sure they don't wanna be around obnoxious loud ass drunk students right now. All thanks to Professor Kim for being a social butterfly!"
"Thanks to him indeed, or else this happy hour probably would've been a shitshow without them." She smirks and bites her bottom lip, grabbing her drink. She then grabs your hand to bring you back towards your friends while you sip on your drink. Jurin is already sipping on something, while eating away at some of the nachos placed in the center of the table.
"Got you guys some shots." Felix says, slipping them onto the surface of the table. 
"Lix! We just—"
"Ah, ah, ah! I paid a hefty tip for these so drink up, my favorite ladies." He clinks his shot glass against yours, Jurin's and Eunchae's before you take the shot to the neck, wincing as soon as the liquid burns and travels down your throat. You all chase with your cocktails [def not the best idea], hurriedly trying to wash away the tequila aftertaste.
"Gross." Eunchae shakes her head, grabbing more nachos to snack on.
"Good gawd, have you ever seen a better group of professors?" Jurin says as you and the girlies scan the high tables pressed closer towards the wall on the main floor. Mingi, Yeosang, Jongho, San, Chris and Namjoon are now huddled around watching the crowd with glasses of beer sitting on the table, all in casual clothing.
A group of handsome intellectuals. We're here for it.
"Professor Bahng me so—" Eunchae says in your ear.
"Don't you dare finish that sentence!"
"The new professor wants her some Choi San." Jurin smirks as she drinks her cocktail, eyes still glued on their group. You shift your attention back to them, watching as Professor Cho talks to Professor Choi. She's a cutie, you can't even lie— she's got on a simple white tee, black flare jeans and boots on and it works well with her figure. She sticks herself right next to him, smiling and laughing as they continue to talk, joke around, whatever it is. Professor Song's got a shit-eating smirk on while he's sipping his beer, so it's pretty obvious he's trying to set them up. You don't know if it's the alcohol or if you're actually feeling disappointed for god knows why, but it sucks. It makes you pout a little when the reality settles, knowing Professor Choi should definitely be entertaining someone like Professor Cho;
Not you, a grad student.
So maybe all those subtle moments were just merely subtle moments. Maybe Professor Choi was just that charming, that enticing, that everybody experiences the same subtle moments as you. It was never meant to be a thing.
"That's Y/N's man, though."
"Excuse me, since when?" You look at Eunchae.
"Since he went all prince charming on you and saved you in the basement."
"Please, he had no other choice." You frown.
"He could've grabbed Sunwoo or a facilities person to come and fix that door knob at the same time, but he didn't." She puckers her lips. "I'm gonna say he's got the hots for you."
"Do you hear her?" You laugh and look at Jurin before your eyes are back to [subtly] scanning the high tables. San is deep in conversation with his people, but it's almost like a radar goes off for him because his eyes instantly meet yours. He doesn't necessarily break away, even as he sips his beer and listens to Namjoon entertain the table.
His eyes are on you.
He'll see you, and you'll see him.
The DJ starts playing a mix that causes the crowd to roar and get more hyped, your friends pulling you onto the dance floor. You carefully let them drag you along— your glass in one hand while you start to sing and bounce along to the song. Of course, your friends drag you right in San's view, and he's not complaining one bit. He continues to keep it subtle, though. Still engaging in conversation as much as possible, but he's not even gonna lie, his attention is elsewhere. He can barely even focus on Zara next to him.
"I didn't think you'd actually come tonight." She says, coming back to his side after grabbing a soda to sip on.
"Why not?" He pries his eyes off of you to shift to her. "Namjoon's a real stickler when it comes to these things. Wants us to be present at most student events to show face." She giggles and nods.
"I see that. Well, you do enjoy it, don't you?"
"I do. It's fun to see everyone enjoy themselves. Reminds me of the good times. Back in the days." She laughs.
"Okay, old man." She teases and he playfully rolls his eyes, now returning his attention back to you. You're dancing and singing along happily, even doing those cute little dance challenges with your friends and San has to prevent himself from smiling too big or keeping his obvious attention on you for too long. At this moment, Yunho and Iseul walk in, passing the high table with curt nods and short greetings, the two barely paying any attention to San and vice versa. San continues to sip his beer, pursing his lips as he hears Yunho and Iseul happily greeting the other professors next to them. It's probably the beer [most likely], but he finds himself getting a little more irritated than usual seeing them around. And Mingi might've realized first, except his plan to distract him isn't necessarily gonna work—
"Why don't you spend some alone time with her or something? You know, doesn't have to be much." Mingi adds nonchalantly as he sips on his beer and watches the crowd, coming around to his other side.
"I'm good." San looks at him before shaking his head. His eyes land back on you over the edge of his glass and he finds that you're looking, too. You're being a tease, especially with the way that mini dress hugs you perfectly. The way you move your body. The way you try so hard but equally not as hard to make sure he's paying attention.
He knows the game. He knows the way it goes.
And San finds his hunger for you growing by the minute. Ain't no way you're looking that good in front of him without having a clue what it does to him. You know damn well— very, very well.
He wishes he could do something about it, and you love every second of it. You subtly bite your lip before turning to face Eunchae, Felix, Jiung and Jurin, continuing to dance along to the Iamsu! track that's currently on rotation. The boys are snapping videos and photos, being the hype men they should for you and the girlies. San finds himself silently chuckling from time to time, hearing your screams and giggles just feet away.
"You couldn't be any more obvious." Jongho giggles as he comes to his free side, Mingi, Zara and Yeosang heading over to the back patio to play cornhole.
"It's just nice to see them having fun."
"Mhm." Jongho hums, sliding his glass onto the table. "Anyway, wanna go head to head on one of the arcade games?" Jongho points to the loft. San nods, setting his empty glass aside before following Jongho up the steps to play a few of the arcade games. On their way over, they engage in a few friendly conversations before going head-to-head in air hockey, basketball and skee ball. Eventually, you, Jurin and Eunchae also find your way upstairs having spent some time getting air in the back patio, loudly enjoying the arcade games just a few feet away from Jongho, San and now, Yeosang. Amidst all the fun you and your girls are having, you don't realize you almost crash [yet again] into your professor as you step back and cheer just when he's about to pass.
"Woah there." Professor Choi has his hand hovering near the small of your back.
"Woah— sorry. Hi." You look behind in a drunk haze, greeting your attractive professor as you try to create some space. "Hi Professor Choi."
"Hey. You good?" He smiles at you as you nod, cheeks hot from the alcohol, palms definitely clammy.
"Yeah, I think so."
"Yeah? Be safe for me." 
"Mmkay. Only for you." You tilt your head to the side and San cocks a brow in amusement. He subtly bites his lip before nodding.
"That's all I want." He plays along, watching as you obviously become affected by the unexpected response. You maintain eye contact with him, giving him that innocent, angelic smile you always give him. "Have a good rest of your night, Y/N." He says near your ear before giving you a small smile and heading back down the steps.
"Jesus fucking christ." Jurin teases before giggling and tugging your hand, pulling you back towards the games. As the night continues on, you, Jurin and Eunchae continue to play the rest of the arcade games before heading back down to play the giant Jenga and cornhole in between dancing with the boys. Hours easily slip on by, and by the time it hits close to 11pm, you're being asked to take the drunk-tivities to another bar.
"We're about to bar hop. Coming along?" One of your classmates ask. 
"Um no, I'm drunk enough and want my bed. Thank you!" Eunchae responds. You, Eunchae and Jurin continue to signal 'no' to the others in many variations, slowly splitting and walking off back towards campus. You realize you didn't get a chance to say bye to Felix, Jiung and the rest of the boys before you three slipped away, so you grab your phone and try to text him to at least let him know you're alive and well.
"Shit, I just realized we never tried to catch Jiung or Felix."
"I'm sure they're fine! They know we'll get home safely together."
"Let me text them really quickly."
you: thosee last shots were lethal and I'm still dRINK !! hope u guys bcarefl
you: becarfil
you: becareful!!!! fuck!!!
You continue to walk alongside of Eunchae and Jurin as you walk back to your apartments from the bar, clenching your phone in your hand while you wait for a text back from Jiung.
Ding.
"Jiung texted back!" You look at your phone and you swear, at this moment, all the alcohol might've drained from your system. To your horror, Jiung isn't the one texting you back.
prof. choi: doing okay there, y/n?
"FUCK!"
"What!" Eunchae yelps, surprised by your sudden reaction.
"Oh my fucking god! I accidentally texted Professor Choi, not Jiung!" 
"Oh shit." She laughs loudly. "Girl, it's fine! That man knows how it is, he probably doesn't even care!"
"No, Eunchae! This is so bad! He's gonna kick me out of rotation—"
"He won't! He was at the bar, I'm sure he understands. Just apologize." Jurin laughs. "You're fine, babe! Professor Choi looks so laid back. He's probably the last person you even have to worry about."
"Ugh, my god." You whine. "How embarrassing." You hesitantly [but quickly] text back to apologize.
you: omg i'm so sorry, professor choi! that was ment for jsunf
you: meant for jiung*
you: ah, sorry!!
San laughs at the text come through, incredibly endeared by the way you're trying really hard to apologize though drunk. He honestly doesn't care; he knows how this goes, he's been here before. He's glad you can have fun in between working and studying hard. 
prof. choi: no need to apologize, i know how it is! been there before. can you please let me know when you get home safely at least?
you: okay, i will.
You bite onto your bottom lip just as the three of you finally reach the King Residence Halls, still intoxicated but reaching the phase of sleepy drunk at this point.
"Okay ladies, I'm off to my humble abode. Get up there safely!" Jurin salutes as all of you walk into the main entrance, turning to her right to head down to her unit located here on the first floor. You and Eunchae wave before the both of you are retreating to your own studios for the night; feet hurting, body slowly breaking down, thirsty as hell for some water while you ride the elevator up to your places.
When you get back into the room, you quickly shower and get ready for bed. It's just about to hit close to midnight, and you know the bar hopping has barely reached its peak. You remember to finally text Jiung to be careful and to be safe, all while remembering to text Professor Choi back to let him know you made it home safely.
you: sorry, i got home safely a bit ago!
You set your phone aside as you plop onto your bed, somehow nervous for texting him a little later than usual. You do remember him and the rest of the professors were still lingering around when you, Eunchae and Jurin decided to head back. Maybe he was still there? Maybe he left and is already snuggled in his covers—
Ding.
prof. choi: good to know. 
you: you're still awake?
You're not even sure why you were prompted to keep the conversation going, but something within you felt comfortable enough to do so.
prof. choi: i'm barely leaving the bar with the rest of the guys.
you: oh, i see. be safe!
prof. choi: will be. make sure you and your roommates get lots of water.
you: roommates? i live alone. lol but i definitely just chugged a bunch of water. 
He doesn't respond after that text, and you wonder if he's driving or if he's just cutting the conversation there. You let out a small sigh, setting your phone aside to keep your hopes down and start settling in bed. Just as you pull the sheets back and prepare to hop in, your phone starts going off; vibrating on your nightstand and causing a loud rumble.
You were not expecting him to call you.
You take a moment before sliding right to answer his call, licking your lips and swallowing the lump that has formed in your throat.
"Hi." You shyly say.
"I'm sorry to call randomly. Just wanted to make sure you were okay."
"You don't have to apologize, it wasn't random. But, I'm okay. Thank you, Professor Choi."
"San." He chuckles a bit.
"Hm?"
"You can call me San."
"Thank you, San." There's a slight pause that makes you feel like San is trying to say something, ask something in particular, especially since he called you instead of texting you back. But, part of you also feels like you could be looking too into the night and reading too much into every little detail. 
Maybe it was more convenient for him, right?
He was eyeing you at the bar, though. Heavy. And San knows it. He wanted you to know it.
"Are you tired?" You ask softly as you sit up and sit criss-crossed on your bed.
"I was, but I think I'm a little more awake now. How are you feeling, still drunk?"
"Mm, not as drunk as I was after I found out I sent the text to you and not Jiung." He laughs. "Water is definitely helping, too. Are you okay to drive?"
"Yeah, I am. Only had that beer." Another small pause. "I'm gonna grab some food."
"Oh, but you aren't going to the other bars?"
"Jesus, no." San laughs. "They are, but not me. It took me a lot to come out tonight and it's only cause Namjoon wanted us to show face." You chuckle. 
"I get it." You fiddle with the fabric of your sheets. "Do you.. want some company while you get food?" You boldly ask, heavily relying on the fact that San must have called you for a reason besides to check in. If worst comes to worst, he can just say no.
You'd understand. It's all harmless anyway.
"Sure." He says. "You're not too tired?"
"No."
"Where are you?" He asks softly.
"King Residence Halls. There's a side door on the left that I can meet you at."
"Be there in about 5 minutes?"
"Sounds good. I'll be down by then." And with that, the call ends and you sit on your bed for a good minute, trying to make sense of what just happened on the call. All of this was harmless, right? All the looks and the tension you had been feeling were harmless.
Right?
You hoped everyone was still busy being drunk or at the bar, knowing it'd def cause a stir seeing you get into Professor Choi's car. All of this on the surface level seemed so wrong and so out of place, yet here you were— throwing on some sweats and a hoodie to go on a ride with him. You grab your keys and your phone before heading down towards the side door. To your luck, the residence hall is the quietest it's been in awhile, and there aren't any people lingering around. By the time you walk through the door, there's an all black Toyota GR86 sitting idle. San lowers his passenger window just enough for you to see his eyes, a small smile on his face as you approach his car.
"Hi." He says as you plop in and awkwardly fiddle for the seatbelt.
"Hi Prof— San." You catch yourself [especially in these circumstances] as you settle into the seat and look at him. He lets out a small chuckle before driving off one-handed, his other arm resting on the middle console. "Where are you gonna get food?" Your eyes scan the way he's sat in the driver's seat; manspreading as he drives flawlessly with one hand. You can't help but find him incredibly attractive, and you shouldn't be fucking feeling this way.
It's the alcohol.
"Uh. That's a good question." His eyes dart to the time on his car's navigation screen. "McDonalds, probably."
"Great choice after drinking."
"Want anything?"
"I think I'm okay."
"You sure?"
"Maybe." He chuckles.
"Let me know. I got you." You look at him as you play around with your hoodie strings. "Thanks for coming along on the ride. How'd you know I wanted company?"
"I dunno, really. Just a feeling."
"You looked like you had a lot of fun earlier."
"I did. It was fun. I just wasn't down to walk to more bars."
"Your friends still over there?"
"The boys. Eunchae and Jurin are probably sound asleep in their apartments." San nods. 
"It's good you guys came out. I always try to get people in the lab to come out to events and take a break from school and work."
"It is. It's easy to get yourself way too wrapped up in everything."
"Mhm. And that's why I try to push for a good balance. Don't want you guys to get burned out."
"Did you go out a lot while you were in school? During your postdoc?"
"Um, yeah. Kinda? I wouldn't do anything too crazy, though. I was also with Iseul for a lot of it."
"Oh." You look down at your lap. "Right, sorry."
"Don't be." He laughs. "I don't mind talking about it every now and then. It's not necessarily a secret."
"Mm, still. I didn't mean to pry."
"You didn't." He smiles, dimples on full show when he looks at you then turns back to the road. "But glad you enjoyed yourself. Saw you and your friends doing the little dances." You cover your face in embarrassment and it makes San laugh. "Why? It was cute."
"We were just drunk."
"And having fun!" He reassures you just as he turns onto the street and into the McDonald's lot. "It was nice to see."
"So, you were watching?" You look at him with a tiny smirk, hoping, praying to fucking God you weren't reading into everything incorrectly.
"How couldn't I?" He runs his finger down his bottom lip as he brakes and waits behind the car ahead. He shifts his eyes towards you, subtly eyeing you up and down from where he's sitting. You shake your head and look out the window without verbally responding, biting onto your bottom lip to prevent yourself from saying anything wrong. From smiling too big.
This shit can't be real.
"What's wrong?"
"Hm." You hum, tugging your hoodie up a bit. "You're just making me shy."
"Nothing to be shy about. I just liked watching you have fun. Should I not?"
"No, no one said you shouldn't." San chuckles, his turn to bite onto his bottom lip knowing full well where the rest of this can go. He's just not sure who will make the first move— you or him. Either way, he isn't complaining and he'll take what he gets. Call him selfish, but he thinks he deserves this after everything he's been through. He deserves to be happy, too.
"Sure you don't want anything?" He asks softly as he approaches the drive-thru speaker.
"Ice cream cone?" He nods.
"I got you." You sit quietly in the passenger's seat while he relays the order, pulling through to the last window as instructed. He pays and carefully hands you the ice cream cone before grabbing his small bag of food. You slowly eat away at your ice cream cone, preventing it from dripping all over the place while San drives off to a view nearby. It doesn't take long. In fact, you're just about to dive deep with your cone when San pulls off to a side lot and backs his car right near the edge of the small overlook he's at. There's better views, but this was the closest and it's a decent view— decent enough to help clear your mind, bring you back to reality and remind you of life's little blessings.
"Wanna hang out in the back for a bit? Let you eat that ice cream one in peace?" You chuckle and nod, watching as San hops out to open your door. You slowly walk towards his trunk, letting him clean it up a bit before plopping down to take a seat. You sit next to him, leaving a bit of room in between you two to make sure you don't make him uncomfortable.
"Do you come here a lot?"
"I used to, yeah. Helped me sit in peace for a bit when everything else around me felt too loud and chaotic." He says as he begins to eat away at his snack.
"It's pretty." 
"It is, isn't it?"
"You don't come here anymore?"
"Only if I'm really stressed. Like lately, I guess." You smile a bit.
"You know, I would have never known you were stressing. I know you've got a busy schedule and a lot on your plate, but you never let it show."
"Years of practice." He smirks. "Trust me, it took a long time to get it under control. Probably one of the things Iseul couldn't stand about me." You eat away at the last bits of your ice cream before you look at the end of the cone in your hand.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Anything."
"How did you get past all of that?"
"Coming here." He laughs. "Nah, but Jongho, too. He's been there with me through everything. I honestly don't know if I'd be here, the way I am, without him."
"That's good that he's been there for you. I can tell you two are really close."
"Yeah. It took me a long time, too." San laughs. "Which goes to say, I had a lot to work on. When that whole thing happened, I was always angry and questioning everything, down to my friends cause of Yunho. I felt so.. low about myself despite everything else I had."
"Understandably so. It was only valid to feel that way after everything you've been through." You pop the end of the cone into your mouth and chew away, causing your cheek to puff out at the size of it. San smiles when he turns to look at you, also popping in the last bits of his sandwich before taking a huge swig of his water bottle to wash it down. "So. You and Yunho were friends?" You pretend to act like you don't know because you don't want San to think it's weird that you know some of the details before you even talked about it. It's his story to tell, anyway.
"He was uh, my bestfriend. Actually."
"Oh. I'm sorry, San."
"It's okay." He chuckles. "Promise. But uh, yeah. Maybe not gonna go down this lane tonight."
"That's okay. You don't need to." You look at him with those sweet, angelic eyes and he almost can't help himself. Well, he finds that he actually can't when his eyes fix on the ice cream at the corner of your lip.
"Wait." He says, taking his thumb to the corner of your lip, wiping off the small ice cream residue.
"Oops." You shyly giggle. "Thank you."
"You're welcome." He's doing the look again. He's doing that damn thing where he looks at you with his head slightly tilted to the side, a very tiny, subtle smirk at the corner of his lips. He's so fucking charming, so, so fucking attractive. He's so irresistible, especially when his eyes move from yours, down to your lips and back up to your eyes.
Maybe he's not the only one who can't help themselves.
Because the moment the silence feels a little different between you two, the moment the look feels a little more different, you find your lips crashing onto his in a quick, heated kiss. Everything about this moment is clouding your judgment, and you don't find yourself wanting to pull away. He takes the kiss, and he doesn't waste a moment of it. He feels his urge growing by the second, and feels the need to push this on and on;
And on.
He's wanted you, and he can't even tell you how relieved he is knowing you want him, too.
You straddle his lap and the kiss continues to intensify, becoming more heated and sloppier by the minute. He gives your waist a hard squeeze, a signal begging for you to slowly work your hips against him. Your tongue fights for dominance against his, San letting out a shaky sigh in between when you bite his bottom lip and suck on it.
"Fuck." He groans against your lips before devouring you some more, his hands slowly roaming up your sides. San sees how much your dress has ridden up, doing little to no justice hiding your beautiful thighs; barely covering your pretty parts. His left hand comes right below your breast, giving it a gentle squeeze to test the waters. You let out a small, breathy moan when he starts to leave a trail of kisses against your jaw, your neck. He starts to lick and nip at your favorite sweet spot, causing you to bite your lip and tilt your head back at the growing pleasure building at your core. You move your hips a little quicker, enjoying all of this and being in San's hold a little too much.
Until, the universe decides this is the right time to bring you back down to reality. A loud roar from a car zooming past on the hillside startles you, making you re-evaluate the compromising composition you're in with your professor.
"Oh shit, oh my god—I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get carried away like that." You abruptly pull back and hop off of his lap when the reality of what the fuck you're doing hits you.
"What, no? Y/N, it's fine. I—" He tries to reach for your hand but you back away. You're not sure what this means, or what the hell you've done— but you sure as hell just wanna get out of here and be in your own peace while you figure this out.
"God, I'm sorry, I really didn't mean it, San." You look at him and he can't help but knit his brows together in confusion. He wanted this, and he was so fucking happy to see things moving forward between you two; all he sees is fear, confusion and even a lace of guilt in your eyes, and he can't help but feel the same way, too. "Just got carried away, it should've never happened." You add.
"I— yeah." San lets it go, even though he's defeated. This is not what he wanted out of tonight. He didn't expect anything to happen whatsoever, but if it did, this is not how he wanted it to turn out. 
This is not how he wanted tonight to end.
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You don't really know when the embarrassment will die down, but it clearly hasn't on your end, and you've been avoiding San like the plague. It's not as hard as you thought it'd be, especially when San hadn't been around much due to his packed schedule and classes. The rare times you did see him, he was always with someone— bringing them down to his office for a meeting. You'd glance over and he'd quickly meet your eyes, but you'd break first and shuffle away to the behavior room. 
Why on earth did you think it was okay to kiss him?
Him, a fucking professor. Let alone the professor you're currently rotating for.
How fucking reckless, Y/N.
Oh so reckless and careless.
—FLASHBACK
San doesn't get back into the car as fast as you do.
He actually lingers outside a little longer, cursing to himself. Hoping this didn't fuck up anything that could have possibility built between you two. Hoping this didn't fuck up anything that could have continued to grow, blossom.
When he finally gets back into the car, it's silent. But, it's an awkward silence. You aren't sure what to say to break the silence, and you aren't even sure what the proper thing to say is. You just know that you can't wait to be home, covering your entire body under the sheets— no longer having to face the world for the night.
"Cold?"
"I'm okay." He leaves it at that. The music is softly playing in the car, thankfully filling some of the void, the awkwardness. You scroll through your phone for the remainder of the ride, texting the boys back as you peep the pictures they sent from bar hopping, telling them to get home safely.
Hopefully, you don't run into them. That'll be a whole other beast to tackle right now, and you almost feel queasy thinking about it.
"You can just pull up there and I can walk." You tell him as he pulls into the familiar grounds of campus, the graduate residence halls passing you by. 
"But, it's late. It's not safe—"
"San, it's fine. I've done this walk a million times because of the boys." 
"There are no boys to walk you back, though."
"It's fine. I promise." He lets out a sigh. You unbuckle your seatbelt before giving him one last, shy look over your shoulder. "Thanks for the ice cream and for letting me tag along."
"Course." He says, letting out yet another disappointed breath as he watches you hurriedly climb out and rush down the street towards your building. He doesn't pull away, slightly drives up to make sure you do make it to your building and are safe inside. He lets out another 'fuck' before driving off to his house, afraid and slightly upset at how things turned out. Not out of selfishness, no. But, San finds himself caring about you more than expected.
He didn't want to let you go, and he's hoping he doesn't have to.
—END
You think you're saved, for the most part, until you receive a text from San on a random Wednesday afternoon. You've just gotten back from having a late lunch with your friends, making your way down to the basement to finish up your work for the rest of the afternoon.
san: can you come to my office?
You don't respond right away, and it's almost like San knew you were staring at your phone, waiting for the right time to text him back.
san: please? it's important.
you: i'm heading down to the basement, i'll be there in about 5 minutes. is that okay?
san: more than okay.
You let out a sigh just as you tuck your phone away, taking your steps a little slower than usual to buy yourself some time. When you finally get to the basement, you set your things down on your desk and slip your laptop out. You make your way to his office with your laptop and notebook pressed to your chest, giving his door a few soft knocks before you hear his 'come in' from the other side.
"Hey." He says, meeting you right by the door. You hear him silently lock the door shut behind him before plopping onto his couch with a loud sigh. 
"Hi."
"Can you come here?"
"San, we're in your office—" He chuckles and pulls you down onto the couch next to him.
"I know. Door is locked. Don't worry." You let out a sigh with a small pout and he finds it adorable. "Y/N, I promise it's fine." You ease a little feeling his arm pressed against yours, body heat providing some kind of comfort.
"So, what did you wanna talk about?"
"Why have you been avoiding me?"
"Who said I was?" He cocks his head to the side before giving you a little smirk. 
"You don't think I can pick up on how different you've been acting?"
"Well, San. I don't know?" You shrug. "That whole thing that happened shouldn't have happened and I'm still trying to figure out how to move past it because—"
"Who says it shouldn't have happened?" It's your turn to give him a look. You pause and try to read his body language, but nothing about him is defensive. Hostile. Regretful.
None of the above.
"San." You call him, almost defeatedly. "You and I both know we shouldn't have done that. I'm rotating in your lab."
"I know, the surface of it is terrible. It's wrong by the university's code and policies. But, I'm asking you."
"Asking me what exactly?"
"Do you think it shouldn't have happened?" Well, no, you think. If you were being completely and utterly honest, you would say no. You would say you wanted it because you thought he felt the same. You would say you wanted him so badly; fuck the rules in the book! But, you don't say anything, and it's enough for San to know exactly what you wanted without you having to say it out loud. "Y/N." He says softly before lifting your chin with his free hand. You don't even realize you've been playing with his other hand, fingers softly intertwining with his as you ponder on the question. "Have dinner with me. Let me take you out on a date." 
"San." You slightly frown. Not because of him, but because of the entire situation as a whole. It's still all so much and so, so confusing. You've never had to navigate through treacherous waters like this.
"What's wrong, hm? You can tell me anything, remember?"
"I'm just scared."
"About what?"
"This, whatever this is. I don't even know what to call it, we shouldn't even be doing this. If anyone finds out, it could ruin you. It could ruin everything you've worked so hard for." He shakes his head. 
"This is not gonna ruin anything. I—" He pauses, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "I want you, Y/N. I wanna explore this with you. It's been confusing and it's been difficult to navigate my feelings because I didn't know if you felt the same, but the other night—" He lets out a small breath. "You really do make me feel some type of way that no one else does. I haven't been able to get my mind off of it." His eyes roam your features. "Off of you." You sit next to him silently, trying to debate between right and wrong, between yes and no, between needs and wants; still, your answer comes to San. Even if it is terrifying. "Let me take you to dinner. Or not, it's up to you. But, I wanna at least show you I mean it."
"Can I think about this?" You keep your eyes on him, still a bit anxious and scared about all of this blowing up in your faces. It was so risky, so dangerous, so.. thrilling. Because Choi San is asking you to dinner. He wants your attention, and he wants to take you out. How in the hell did you get here weeks after the quarter just started? 
"Of course you can." 
"If I go, I should probably drive this once, though. I just don't want anyone catching on." And this was probably helping you relieve the pressure of going on this date with him; you wouldn't have to be tied down from the car ride, to dinner— to your trek back home. It's not that you didn't want to either, but it seemed safer this way. It seemed less stressful this way. You could give yourself some breathing room in between the dinner itself.
Because these were treacherous waters.
"Are you sure? We can always meet somewhere else."
"San. There's eyes everywhere on campus and nearby, you know that."
"But, I did plan to pick you up and drive you, do all the work for you so you don't have to lift a finger." He pouts a bit and you giggle.
"And I love that. Thank you. I'm just trying to figure out how to keep a good balance for us right now. I'll think about it, okay?" He sighs and nods in slight defeat because as much as he wants to spoil you right away, you do have to be careful about your movements, actions. There are eyes everywhere on campus and people do question everything. Speaking from his own experience, word gets around quick.
He hates this. He knows he's putting you in a tough position, but god, he loves the way you make him feel. He feels giddy, like a lovesick teenage boy who is chasing after his long-time crush. He feels things when he sees you, feels his knees get a little weaker when he hears your laugh or sees you smile. He feels butterflies when you brush past him and give him that cute little subtle smirk. He feels the need to hold you close, to kiss you. Hold your hand and keep you safe. Wants to get to know every thing about you: your pet peeves, your hobbies, your family, what makes you happy. Do many, many other things to show you how attracted he is to you. How you make him feel.
He hasn't felt this in a long, long time— hasn't felt genuine happiness like this in a long, long time. 
He deserves to be happy, too. Especially after thinking for so long that he wasn't cut to be happy, wasn't meant to feel genuine connections and real relationships after his marriage fell through the way it did.
But, you're here and he refuses to let you get away.
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—taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @vcutparis @chngbnwf @struggling101 @sanhwalvr @angelqueendom @barbielibra @brown88 @choisansplushie @yunhoswrldddd @hyukssunflower @vickykazuya @lucid-galaxys-world @jaytheatiny @pommelex @thespiffynerd @vixensss @santineez @nopension
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darlingshane · 1 month ago
Text
Rocking your f-me pumps
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Shane Walsh x F!Reader
Summary: You're out on a Friday night and meet a certain deputy who can't stop flirting with you at the bar.
CW: +18, explicit, smut, pwp, p in v, flirting, dancing, horniness, drinking, semi-public sex, crack, pet names, making out, foreplay, some sort of roleplay.
Word Count: 3,1k
— Links: AO3 // Shane Masterlist
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With the impossible mission of not falling on your face in the process, your feet dangerously rush across the uneven concrete sidewalk that takes you from the parking lot to the bar. Maybe you’ve gone too far with your outfit, but it’s Friday night, after all. You’re looking to make an impression, and the dress you’ve picked to go along with the uncomfortable pair of fuck-me pumps you’re rocking for the occasion will definitely take care of that part—you’re sure.
When you cross the door into the bar, it’s as rowdy as usual on a night like this. Loud and crowded— most seats are taken, people are dancing at the back below the glow of a red neon sign, others play pool while waiters haul trays left and right. You find a few heads turning at your passing, as you expected. This is probably the wrong dress for a hole in the wall like this, but you had put it on to cause a reaction of one person in particular.
You glance around one more time to find that special someone who’s sitting at the end of the bar.
Biting your bottom lip, you stare at him like prey, sharpening your teeth and claws before approaching him with caution.
“Mind if I sit here, handsome?” you ask the man, pointing at the empty stool beside him. He’s a deputy from the Sheriff department. He’s wearing his uniform, but his tan shirt is completely unbuttoned, showing a black tee underneath.
“It’s a free country, darlin’,” he says without glancing at you.
The deputy tilts a beer bottle up to his lips, taking a generous gulp of as you study his profile and his rough, defined features. The angle of his jaw is something to admire. He’s clean-shaven, but there’s still a faint shadow of a stubble, matching the thick black of the curls that adorn the top of his well-shaped head.
“Thanks, Deputy,” you carefully take a seat on the bar stool, crossing one leg over the other, and wave at the bartender.
“Call me Shane, I’m off duty, sweetheart.”
“Thanks Deputy Shane.”
He scoffs, and it’s then that his eyes finally turn to the side to gaze at you for a split second before noticing that ridiculous dress you’re wearing.
When his neck swivels again, he darkly stares at you, head to toe, like he wanted to eat you alive. His jaw slacks, almost hitting the counter and if you look closely, you can see his mouth watering taking in the full sight of you. The cleverly exposed skin, the way that dress hugs your figure in all the right places, the sheer fabric of it revealing more than it needs to; more than you're even used to.
“Anything wrong, Deputy?”
“Hm? No. Everything’s perfect,” he drawls before tearing his eyes away from you.
Pleased with his reaction to your outfit, you bat your eyes, glancing over the subtle shrug of one of your shoulders. “That’s what I thought.”
Then, you wave your arm a second time at the new bartender, but he ignores you again. He saw you both times, and he’s not even serving other patrons, he’s just staring at the game playing on mute on the TV.
“Can you believe this fucking asshole?” You slightly bang your fist on the sticky bar counter to express your frustration. “Is this kid new here or what?”
“Hey, buddy!” Shane raises his voice over the music to call his attention. “C’mere and serve the lady.”
The guy barely nods at you to acknowledge your presence or ask what you’re having. You just order an old-fashioned cocktail and hope he doesn’t screw that up. You also order a beer for the deputy as a thank you.
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“It’s fine. Next one it’s one you, Deputy.”
“Thought I said you can call me Shane.”
“I know, but the whole uniform thing is really… imposing. And I’m a good girl. I wouldn’t like to disrespect the authorities. It’s ingrained in me.”
“Good girl?” he scoffs, glancing at you sidelong, using the bottle in his hand to point at your body. “Don’t take this the wrong way, sweetheart, but good girls don’t usually dress like that.”
“Why not?”
“Because,” he remarks that word with a casual shrug, silently implying what you both know, that your full get-up doesn’t scream—I’m about to leave for church. It only says—I’m driving directly to hell to pay for all my sins.
“I don’t like what you’re suggesting, mister,” you mutter as the bartender finally brings your drinks.
“I’m just saying. Look around and check out the sophisticated clientele of this fine establishment.” He says with mockery. “There’s a guy by the slot machines in a greasy, leather vest that’s looking at you like you’re a porterhouse steak. He’s practically drooling all over the floor. He's one minute away from putting his hand in his pants and rubbing one to your name. I’d be careful walking to your car if I were you.”
You can’t help but snort before checking out the guy he’s referring to. The guy in question shifts on his boots and draws a lewd smile at you when you briefly look at him.
“Ugh, you're right.”
“I told ya. Nobody comes into this hellhole looking like you if you weren’t looking for trouble or soliciting, darlin’.”
“Maybe not.” You press your teeth to your bottom lip for a second. “I guess it’s a good thing I’m sitting next to a cop.”
“That's right. As long as you stay by my side, you have nothing to worry about.” Shane locks eyes with you. “You still haven’t told me your name, sweetheart.”
“You can call me whatever you want, darlin’.” Your eye flirts with a cheeky wink.
“Yeah?” He pauses for a second to think. He glances at the cherry adorning your drink and asks, “how about Sherry? Would you like that?”
“Sure, I like that. “You lift the glass in your hand to take a sip. “I’m not soliciting, by the way. Just so we’re clear.”
“Didn’t think you were. Prostitutes don’t usually take that much time and effort to fish for a client.”
“Are you talking from experience?”
“Maybe.” His lips form a downward curve as he scratches his jaw with the tip of his thumb. “So, tell me sweetheart, if you’re not soliciting, what do you do for a living?”
“I’m in a band.”
“A band, huh? Like a rock band?” His eyebrows arch a little higher.
You shake your head. “No, not a rock band. I'm in a concert band.”
“Hm, with saxophones, flutes, and all that shit?”
“Uh-huh,” you take a bigger sip of your glass.
“What instrument do you play?”
“The clarinet.”
“You any good?”
You half shrug. “Let's say I have a natural talent.”
Then, you pick up the cherry from your glass and slowly suck it between your lips as a double-entendre, putting him under a spell as you rip off the stem in one swift motion.
“You’ll have to show me sometime.”
“I’d love to, Deputy.” You grin as he shifts on his seat. “That is, of course, if you have a good instrument. I won't just take the first one that comes around. I like to take my time picking a good one.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” he answers quickly, boasting, “let me assure you I have a fine, tuned instrument. It has never disappointed anyone who's ever got the pleasure to play it.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.” With a quick flick of your tongue on your lip, you gaze shamelessly at his crotch to make an initial assessment. It's hard to tell by the way he is sitting. The folds of his pants makes it harder to see an outline.
“Can I ask you something now, Deputy?”
“Shoot.” He tilts his beer to his lips.
“Let’s say, hypothetically, if I was a prostitute, would you arrest me?”
“Told you I’m off duty.”
“So… If I were to do something illegal right now, would you turn a blind eye? Is that what you’re implying?”
Pausing, Shane puts down the bottle, sending his opposite hand to land in the middle of your thigh as his face leans in closer.
“For you? I’d do anything you want, darlin’. Even turn a blind eye or both. I'd even turn in my badge if you asked me to. I'd kill any guy who'd dare to look at you with so much of a stink eye.”
“Interesting…” You shorten the distance to his face, your nose nudges the tip of his own, “who’s the bad boy now, huh?”
“I never claimed I was a good boy.”
“Hmm, no, I suppose you didn’t.” The tip of your tongue juts out, and you slowly lick his bottom lip before firmly planting your lips against his mouth.
When you can’t hold up the charade any longer, you laugh against his lips and pull back slightly as Shane laughs along with you.
“Hey, baby,” you reach with your hand to cup his jaw, and wipe the spit you left on his lip with your thumb.
“Hey, sweetheart.”
You finally greet each other as usual. You’ve been going out for a while, but from time to time, you like to play a little and pretend you don’t know each other. You’re not sure how it started, all you know is that you both clearly enjoy this pretense as a form of foreplay, even if it’s a little silly at times. The only downside is that neither of you can hold the fantasy for too long. Eventually you always start laughing, but you're getting better at it. And it doesn't matter if it's not perfect, cause it works like a charm.
“You’re late,” he says, his warm hand squeezing your leg.
“I know, I’m sorry. My car was acting up again. I could’ve texted you, but I didn’t wanna mess up our pregame”
“It’s alright. I’ll check it out this weekend, yeah?” He brings his face closer so he can kiss your lips again. “You know, next time… do call me. It’d be fun to do this on the road. You could be a damsel in distress and me, an asshole who would only help you in exchange for certain favors.”
“That sounds kinky. I love it.” Scrunching your nose, you seize his mouth once again. This time, your lips part, and you invite him for a deeper dive into your mouth that he quickly takes over with the delicious swirl of his tongue that firmly plays with yours.
The hue of your advertised make-out proof lipstick ends up smudged on his lips when he pulls back.
“You know, that color looks good on you. It brings out your eyes.” You use your thumb to wipe the stain from his mouth.
“I should kiss you more often then.”
“I’m not opposed to that,” you pull his face closer so you can continue peppering his mouth with an endless amount of kisses. It’s hard to stop. He tastes and smells so good you can’t help yourself.
With music playing in the background, when the mood shifts to something slower, Shane drags you to the dance floor. You anchor your arms to him, trying to balance yourself on your impossible heels as you sway together to the melody of the song playing. You adore the way he stares at you when his forehead leans on top of yours. One of his fingers traces the shape of your jaw. A second later, your face is held inside his palm as an inescapable wave of desire forces him to conquer your lips again, as if his life was on the line and the only safe haven was your mouth. Your head spins with the dizzying swirl of his tongue that leaves you breathless over and over. The tone of the music changes to something sexier, and so does the rhythm of your bodies that follow suit. You part from his kiss as the heat rises, and spin around in his hold to press your ass against his bulge. His mouth latches at the crook of your neck, viciously printing a love bite as a reaction to the sensual swaying of your hips, making him harden behind his uniform slacks. You throw an arm back and place your hand blindly on the back of his head, making a fist with his curls.
“Everyone is looking at you, darling’” he purrs in your ear, clutching his hands to your waist, following your moves.
“Yeah? Let ‘em.” Your cheeks feel like burning when you say that. You avoid at all costs looking around to see anyone staring. Instead, you gaze over your shoulder to focus solely on him. “Bet they're jealous I've already picked my guy for the night.”
“You bet this sweet ass they are,” he squeezes your backside firmly as you find the soft skin of his earlobe and suck it between your teeth. It makes him lose his mind when you do that, but not as much as when you're sucking his cock. He becomes a feral creature when you take him fully between your lips.
You press your teeth a tad harder on his lobe, and he pulls back at once. He retaliates by biting your neck with the same force.
Letting out a gasp, you close your eyes and let Shane and the music take over your body. His hands roam your body anxiously to touch every part of your skin, covered or not. The sultry neon lighting of the dance floor acts as cover for you and other couples around.
There's something that has risen to rock-hard perfection, rubbing at the curve of your hips as the song comes to an end. During that transition, you suddenly feel your hands propped against the paneling of the wall, and him completely pressed against your back. One of his hands slips under the hem of your skirt at the front as he drags his hardness over your ass while his fingers play over the thin lacy fabric of your underwear, stirring your arousal.
Your panties are soaked by the time he manhandles your body so you're facing him again.
With glaring lust spilling out of the wildness of his gaze, he now shoves your back against the wall with little care. He's the hunter now, and you're the prey, and you can tell he's not looking to go easy on you.
Shane licks his lips, and without warning, he seizes your mouth once more with such vehemence, it makes your center send a jolt of electricity across every cell of your body. With teeth, tongue, and hands, he devours every bit of you as if you were made out of his favorite food. It's violent and delightful to have him all over you like that. It’s easy to get lost in that cloud of ecstasy when all your body craves nothing but being taken by him. Shane is firmly pressed against you. His rough hand lifts one of your thighs over his hip, forcing the skirt of your dress to fold up your leg, so you can feel the outline of his erection when he fits his crotch between your legs.
“Shane… Shane, baby,” you moan unintelligibly in his mouth, slightly coming to your senses. “Maybe we should do this somewhere else?”
“Hm? I thought Sherry was more adventurous.” His lips are automatically drawn to your neck once again.
“She is.” You hold his head between your palms and straighten his neck so you can look at his eyes.” But that doesn't mean she wants to basically copulate in front of all these people like fucking animals.”
“I don't think they’d mind.” Shaking his head, amused, he nudges the tip of this nose against yours. “It would be the first time these walls have seen some copulation happening.”
“Well, I do mind.”
When you're done protesting, you head out the bar to drive home, but you don't make it farther than the parking lot.
Unable to keep his hands off you, by the time you've reached his truck, he's practically ripped off your panties. There's barely a thread holding them together when your favorite deputy opens the door to the passenger seat to his truck. Without bothering with climbing inside, he bends you over that same seat, removing the remains of your underwear completely so he can collect your arousal in his fingers.
Much like the inside of the bar, there’s no doubt the parking lot at the back has seen its fair share of action, but out here, the difference is that there's practically anybody.
Either way, you leave the car door open to shield your dirty deeds. While Shane stands behind you, you look over your shoulder after hearing the clinking sound of his belt unbuckling, just in time to see his raging erection being released. Biting your lip, you watch him spit on his hand and spread it all over his shaft to have an extra layer of lubrication. He leans forwards and whispers in your ear to stay quiet before shoving his cock bluntly into your dripping cunt. You gasp and close your eyes, feeling every thick inch of him stretching you up nicely. His warmth breath bathes the back of your neck while he quickly picks up the pace. Right off the bat, his thrusts come sharp and hard to have you clenching around him before everyone even notices what you’re up to. This is about a fix, a quick release to quench that fire burning at your core. Pleasure ripples through your body with each push. You have to press your teeth harder on your lip to keep you from crying out. Shane coos your ear with encouragements mixed with a fair share of fucks and other curse words.
The grip of his hands tightens at your hips when he’s about to come. You can tell by the way his cock throbs and the erratic push of his hips searching for that sweet release. Your legs are about to give up when you feel the fire in your center expanding outwards, making you contract harder around him in one tight squeeze that earns you a good grunt out of him. A second later, his warm, sticky substance comes out in quick spurts, coating your walls, filling you up like a cream puff.
“Fuck, Deputy, you really know how to make a girl's legs shake.”
“You're not the only one with a natural talent, darlin’.”
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— Credits: stunning divider by @firefly-graphics
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toadtaverngame · 6 months ago
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The Southside
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Few people know the origin of the southside. However, this minty delight has earned its reputation for being a refreshing, gin based cocktail with citrus and aromatics that really give it that special zing. Will you be ordering this at our tavern? 🍸 
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loudstan · 7 months ago
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(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.
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running-with-kn1ves · 5 months ago
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(if you still write plssss I just love your stories) What about a yandere omega male obsessed with the gentle alpha female reader from another clan...and alpha female reader was different..she's not demanding,always patient, gentle and respectful...and sometimes loves cool quiet places ....and he's even more obsessed that it's his mate...but the problem is...she doesn't want a mate cause it's terrifies her cause she doesn't want to be a horrible person cause she's an alpha female cause she might get misunderstood....so ....the yandere omega is very very manipulative and very knows how to guilt trip her to making her mind and take her to bed s3x.....
A/N: For some reason this spoke to me. Very little proof read so I apologize if the smut doesn't make much sense or I get common a/b/o knowledge wrong lmao.
CW: Drink spiking, alcohol, yandere omega, AFAB alpha reader, smut, sex from behind, physical violence.
Synopsis: An omega keeps harassing you, begging you to be his mate. It isn't until one night when you're off your game, does he "win you over."
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"C'mon, won't you humor me a little bit," the omega's eyes widened in hopeful desperation, a small smile quirking up from the tip of his mouth. "Just one, please?"
"Will you bug off already? I already said no, I've got my own. Go find someone else to pester."
"But you're nearly finished, hm?" He taps on your glass, looking up at you from against the table. He just barely met your height, but from the way he crouched on the barstool, running a ring around your cup with his finger, he embraced his place from below.
"I promise, just a drink and I'll let you be."
Your migraine grows; whether it be in the office, from your windows, or here at your only safe space-- the bar outside your apartment, he's antagonizing you wherever you go. Just a drink, he pleads. Just some coffee or a short dinner-- anything to get you to agree to be "his." His alpha, the bearer of his children “who'll be well taken care of,” he promises.
You've grown tired and irritated, your usually calm and civil demeanor relenting after a couple drinks. But still, your instinct to be kind to those weaker than you, to protect the fly currently stopping you from enjoying your solitude, kicks in.
"Fine," you give up. "Just one. Then please, will you stop trying to convince me? I'm not looking for a mate, and the more you bug me the less willing I am to accept your offer."
To you, the offer was pretty much off the table. But he was so persistent, influencing the idea to cross your mind more than once.
He lit up, grabbing the bartenders attention with a snap and tap on the bar. Despite the harmless, awkward body language he gave off, he wasn’t as “puppy-like” as most omegas appeared. Sure, there was that cuteness he tried to use to appeal to you, but it wasn’t as helpless as he tried to play it to be. He was using his charms as best as he could, licking his lips and using the new line of pheromone-reacting cologne you had heard so much about from your coworkers. Sometimes, you smelled your fellow alphas using it, trying their best to attract a mate, as if they didn’t already have an overpopulation of omegas flocking to their side. 
“I’m Lane, by the way.” the flirty omega said, a new cocktail in his hand as he swirled its straw. It was awfully thick for some tequila and fruit juice, the color almost turing an off-white and red. 
“I know.” You sighed, wondering how he could’ve thought you forgot his name after so many advances. Maybe it was just another attempt at riling up your inner instincts to find an mate, to repeat his name in your mind. 
“And I know you, of course,” He slyly moves forward, pushing the drink closer to you. “You’ve been avoiding me lately, lovely. Why so? Have you found a different omega to share your time with?” 
You hated how he spoke so plainly, how you were an alpha, how he was an omega, how everyone else-- no matter their standing-- was a threat or an outsider. 
You take a sip of the drink to appease him, wordlessly hit with a taste you could smell from a mile away. 
You tried not to spit it out, to be polite, to avoid the anger bubbling in your liquor-swishing stomach. 
“No. I’ve been busy, working. You know, trying to make a living, to support myself. What is it that you’ve been doing besides harassing me?” 
You didn’t know what exactly it was-- with the amount of inventions created these days to induce heat, to heighten pheromones, to attract a mate-- you knew it was something extracted with his fragrance, the essence of his identity as an omega-- to bring out the inhumane, animalistic need inside of you to protect and keep him for yourself-- to choose him, like he had done you. Just as he wanted. 
You could avoid the constant, offputting stench he covered himself in to make your inner nature hungry-- but this, the drug, or the... Part of him, that you didn’t want to think about, that was inside of you now-- was enough to drive you mad. 
His cheeks were a bit red behind their tan tint, resting on his knuckles as he looke up at you, so enraptured in your presence. He liked hearing you talk even if it was at his expense. 
You wanted to choke him, shove him against the pool table in anger for spiking your drink with something so crude. Yet, you could do nothing but keep your mouth shut, suffocating on his smell, on the feeling between your thighs and the need to find an omega, quickly. 
But alphas didn't go home with omegas without there being strings attached-- one night stands with your own kind was fine enough, but it wasn’t as satisfying as you know it could be. 
You put your head in your hands, pushing away the drink. One sip was enough to take you to hell. You should’ve been meaner to him, less tolerant. 
“You know, I don’t know why you’re so hesitant to find a mate. With your mother pressuring you, your coworkers almost entirely paired up-- you think it’d be about time.”  Lane’s hand slides to your shoulder, rubbing it in a gentle back and forth. 
“How do you know about that?” You groan from behind your arms, hardly phased by how much he knows about your life. Well, after three months of harassing you, he was unlikely to stay at just a distance. 
“I hear around! They’re worried about you, you know. Wondering if you’ll keep suppressing yourself during rutting season, how you’ll handle this, season… its only weeks away; are you going to keep using blockers?”
“It’s none of your business,” You sigh through your teeth, grinding them together between words. “I don’t.. I can’t handle having an omega in my life. You don’t understand what it’s like-- to be me. I’ll hurt them, I can’t be around anyone.”
You put a palm over your eyes, breathing through your mouth. Maybe you can last it out, if you could just get out of here. 
Lane jumps at the sound of that-- he’s heard your fears, seen them written on your face and through your bedroom window. He’s practiced a million times in situations like this to convince you-- that you aren’t as scary as you think you are, that even if you were, he would handle it all. He would take care of you like no other mate. It was what he was made for. 
“My love, oh-- you don’t even understand. Even if you were too, well-- rough, I’d never leave your side. I’m not afraid of you-- i’m not like the other omegas that’ve tried to capture your attention. With their weak, doe eyes, you’d massacre them-- I know it. But me, I can handle all of you, I promise.”
Lane sounded so earnest, a hopeless romantic’s authenticity dripping from his voice. He didn’t care if he had to play into your fear-- it was unlikely he’d ever be able to completely alter your esteem anyway. Atleast now, he could make you believe that he could hold all of you. 
You looked to the corner of your eye, watching how confidently he believed in his words. You weren’t quite sure if he was right, if anyone was stable enough to take how needy and protective you’d be as their alpha. You’d seen those who nearly break their mate, yet stay with them in an attempt to cure their loneliness. You couldn’t handle being like that. 
Lane took your hand away from your face, bringing it up to his. 
“You call for me… I know it, just as my body and soul long for you.. Won’t you do whats right, won’t you let two soulmates be together?” 
He lets his tongue peak between his plump lips, licking at the salty ridges of your palm, closing his eyes in bliss. 
He’s never managed to get this close to you before, your guarded nature always so skittish, so alert and defensive.
“Lane,” You huff, stumbling out of the barstool. You didn’t have the capacity to argue with him, to throw his pheromone-ridden drink in his face. If you didn’t get home now, you’d be long gone. It would be a rough night, but you couldn’t let your instincts get the best of you, not when they could make you hurt someone. 
“I’m..leaving. Don’t follow me--you’ll regret it, please.” 
You grab your jacket and bag, thinking twice about slamming back the rest of your bourbon. But it was better to be as clear-headed as you could; you’ve never been hit this hard with such a need before, except when you had your first rut as a late teen.
This though-- this was targeted at a specific individual. The omega who wanted you, who played with your impulses by injecting his own into the mix. You had to get away, lest you succumb.
Your eyes were hazy and dark as you pushed through the chiming door, out into the wet street of musty asphalt. 
Two blocks, thats all you had to cross. Then, you’d be free to writhe in bed and do your best to suppress the reaction inside of you. 
“Wait!” You heard Lane stumble behind you, only making you walk faster. “You can’t leave yet, let’s just talk!”
He struggled to keep up with you, stamina and legs far shorter than your own. Outside of the bar, in the streetlights and misty fog he was taller, almost… ominous. You would be more on edge if he wasn’t just a pathetic omega searching for your attention. 
You felt better in the cool air, away from his smell filling up the bar, but now he came back to haunt you, stuffing up your nose and throat with such a sweet, suffocating musk. 
You bent over, almost ready to gag at how hard you were trying to swallow your drool. 
“Are you okay?” He hugs your side, a hand on your back for comfort.  
Resting your palms on your knees you watch as he comes forward to bend down, pulling hair away from your eyes. He was warm, warmer than you, covered in whiffs of that pheromone cologne, letting it blind you in waves as you try to not breathe. But it was growing inside of you, you couldn’t get away with both his hands coming down to wrap around your wrists. That bigger, hungrier part of you didn’t even want to; It was grander than your insecurity, growing larger than your rational humanity. 
If you had the strength to hold back anymore, you could launch him 10 feet away from you. But you didn’t want to. You had to, to get away, to spare him from what he didn’t know-- but you wouldn’t. 
You watch the breath come from Lane’s mouth, letting his glasses get covered in a foggy film. He was so stereotypical, so obviously desperate to be taken care of and needy for a big bad alpha to keep him safe, to raise her pups. 
You moved in, just an inch, just to inhale that scent from his tongue. It was enough for Lane-- enough to make his smile break wide. He couldn’t hide it; it was hard to keep his ecstasy at bay when you were wrapped around his finger. So much work, so many efforts to capture you, and it was finally coming to fruition. 
“Come on, I’ll take you home. Your apartment’s this way, right?”
Of course it was this way, was there any need to pretend anymore? But he couldn’t help it, he was so used to acting undercover for you, to get you off your guard. 
You’re too sickly, going green as he lets you wrap an arm around his shoulder, hardly able to move your jellified legs forward. You wanted to pounce so badly, to mark him in that alleyway--  but maybe, he’d do you a kindness, and leave you to your own devices in your apartment, keep himself away like you told him he should. 
“You’ve… got to go--” You hiccup back a gag, feeling that sweet burning turn into a twisted ache, the desire that was once sort of pleasurable, now a great pain. 
“I can’t do that, I won’t leave my alpha all alone on the street. You won’t even be able to make it home if it wasn’t for me. That stuff will render you paralized, you know.”
“The, drink..?”  You push back another wave of nausea, stopping for a second to collect your senses. But there was nothing left to collect, you were all over the place, and you wouldn’t be better until the thirst was quenched. 
He grinned a tad, having waited for you to bring it up. Lane was sure you’d realize it was tampered with as soon as he pushed it toward you. But really, he expected you to push back more, to be smarter and slide it away. But you were too polite, almost gullible in a sense. 
Lane avoided the question, lifting your chin with the hand that wasn't keeping you standing. 
“Ah look, home sweet home.”
The lamp in your apartment window dully illuminated its open blinds. You could see directly into your bedroom, sloppily made bedsheets and clothes strewn across the floor. How many times had a stranger seen you hunched over your computer, or changing after a shower?
You swallowed back the salivation on your tongue, desperately trying to ignore the hot hand Intertwining itself into yours. You didn't have to be psychic to know Lane must've peaked through this window a dozen times from the way he eyed it so familiarly. 
His awareness of where your apartment sat, down to the floor and door number, was nauseating.
You stumbled with labored breaths, turning instinctively to the elevator, down the end of the hall. Lane turned with you, practically leading the way with skips of anticipation. 
You were bombarded with “how are you doing's?” And “just a little longer, my sickly mate” as Lane tortured you with pet names and brushes of his knuckles against your forehead. You were sweating now, heaving as your clothes felt too tight and your skin too sweltering. 
He had forced you to choke on his scent, to make your belly sting and throb unbearably, with each soft, caring, omega-like touch, always making sure his neck or wrists were in tasting view. 
The door to your apartment swung open, despite your head too foggy and pounding for you to search for your keys. Lane held a pair of something jingling in his hand, and you wondered If it was your messy keyring, or his. 
“There we go…” he cooed, shushing your panting as you stumbled against the couch.  “It's late, don't want to upset your neighbors, baby.”
“I'm home..” you gasp to yourself, trying to shuffle to the back bedroom, thanking the heavens that Lane’s scent was drifting farther away. That five minute walk home was hell, a hell you didn't realize you were in until you were out. 
The light peeking from the outer hall diminished, apartment door clicking shut and deadbolt sliding in with a lock. 
Now, only Lane and your breathing filled the air, the AC unit quietly humming-- yet doing nothing to cool the prickling burn of your skin. Your body was wracked with waves of fire now, only calming when Lane was near. You thought the burning was worse when he stood close to you, but with the omega’s body heat begin to drift away, your knees began to buckle. 
A hand in the dark from out of nowhere pulled you to the back of your apartment, across the kitchen and past the bathroom, into your dimlit bedroom. Even without his hand, you could’ve followed Lane’s overpowering smell covering every surface of your home. 
“You don’t look so hot; come lie down, okay?” 
Just lying down, taking a breather, it sounded so harmless. But what kind of person drugs you with pheromone enhancers, only to bring you home and let you “lie down?”
You feel for your bed with numb fingers, your bedsheets adorned in yellow light from your second-hand lamp. Lane picks up your foot as you sink into the bedsheets, untangling your shoelaces and slipping the sneaker off. He does the same to the other, placing your legs onto the end of the bed. 
Your head was a disaster, a mix of spinning sights of your room and drifting thoughts. 
“Ugh.. make it stop--” You covered your mouth, preventing from gagging any harder. Maybe throwing up would be a good thing, you could get this bitter-sweet flavor out of your mouth, and the cause of your suffering to release you. 
“I can make it stop, my mate.. you know what we need to do,”
“No--” You choke back your drinks from tonight “Anything but that-- I already told you…” Lane pushes a sweat stricken piece of hair from your forehead. “M’not looking for a mate..” 
Your legs curl up instinctively as your stomach begins to tighten, beneath your jeans beginning to cramp painfully. 
“Mayhaps not… but, you need one, no? To end this? To take care of you right now?” Lane can’t help but watch you, rubbing your hip as you bury your head into a warm pillow. His whispers make the hairs on your neck go cold, standing straight. “Just tell me yes, and all this can go away. You’ll feel okay. Better, even.” 
You go quiet. How long can you endure this? You won’t be able to go into work tomorrow, and your weekend plans are likely ruined. This isn’t just some overnight, rut-mimicking elixir… you can feel it, it’s altering your ability to think and speak. The last time you avoided using suppressors alone, you were bedridden for a week. This is different; this is attacking your instincts, erasing what control you had over yourself left. You could already sense the frustration and anger rising. 
What if it didn’t go away after tonight? Could you... Stop yourself from attacking someone? From grabbing that omega two floors down, so vulnerable and alone in their one-bedroom, rickety apartment? The landlord won’t come for another week…
Lane, as if his gut didn’t already speak to him to obey an alpha, wouldn’t go against your desires despite how close he was to tying you to him forever. You were his mate, and he wouldn’t let your relationship start off so sourly. He watched your eyes go dark, heavy breathing grow animalistic as something inside you was no longer holding you back. He wanted your permission, needed it, craved it.
“Just nod your head… I’ll do the rest. I’ll make it end, and you won’t have to come to this empty house alone anymore. We’ll start our family--”
You nod your head, cutting off his meaningless rant. Its short at first, a mix between yes and no, before you furiously grip the mattress, drawing blood from your lip.
“Just do it,” You bite, trying not to focus on whatever he was spewing on about. You were stuck underwater, getting farther beyond reason the longer you stared at his forearms. His rolled sleeves exposed naked skin, the heat of his other hand and its back pressed to your cheek.“Before I rip you to pieces.”
Lane was swift to your backside, fingers grooving to get stuck at your hips. You didn't have the ability to see his gleaming eyes through your hazy ones. But an alpha didn't need to rely on their sight to sense prey in the dark. 
He was enthralled, hot breath against your muggy neck. He became quick to completely press up against you on his side, mimicking the direction of your body as the lump in his pants were ground further between your legs from behind. His crotch was forced against yours, bringing a pained bliss. But it wasn't enough to quell the burning inside of you. 
“Yes…yes,” he huffed, disbelief in his voice to accompany shaking fingers. 
It took him a solid three tries before Lane managed to pull your pant zipper down to its base, tugging your jeans to the floor unceremoniously. It wasn't sexy, but the lust perspiring in the room made your salivation drip to the pillow beneath your head. 
“Be patient love, please. I promise, you'll feel so good--”
You felt him slowly slide your undergarments, too slow. The growl you released was one you had never heard come from your mouth before-- or anyone, for that matter. Even other alphas during their ruts, pissed at every little inconvenience and willing to bark at you on the sidewalks, were far more composed. 
“Just take it off!”
You ripped the underwear in rage, exasperating through your teeth as you pushed your hips back against his crotch. Tugging Lane’s strained boxers to his ankles, his precum glossed and dribbled to your sheets.
He didn't need your biting words to tell him how eager you were to get this over with, to rid yourself of the panic in your chest and the fire in your loins. 
You were dripping, moreso than you had in years. The slick squelshed between your thighs-- a perfect habitat for Lane’s needy, pink-tipped cock. He slid between your legs like he was made to be there, precum and slick mixing as he lazily rubbed himself in, and out, getting closer to your pulsing cunt. 
You gripped behind you, claws and fangs bared in frustration. But Lane was smart, grabbing you by the hips and wetly burying himself inside. 
He hid himself in the back of your neck, your scent bringing a small comfort as he dealt with the wrathful beast taking over your body. 
Your hips moved in circles, air permeated with hot breath, sweat, and agonizing pheromones. You were sure your alpha neighbors could smell it through the walls, their senses far heightened and eagerly searching for their own omega; but this was the scent of one who was being claimed, one who was claiming you and holding you taut against him. 
Lane did his best to satisfy you, to cater to your anger and sexual frustration as your hand found his on your hip, interlinking your fingers with his own to dig your nails into his skin. You were drawing blood, an unecessary mix to the flurry of smells creating your crazed demeanor. 
“Hurting.. Me,” He gasped, engorged cock stuttering inside of you. 
You let go, only out of the desire to get that reeking blood away. You didn’t care how hurt he would become, if his body was crushed under your power and lust. Lane brought this upon himself, no matter how many times you warned, begging him to stay away and leave you be. Now, there was very little sympathy to be had. 
The pain, the burning touch of your skin, did nothing to dissuade him. 
“Faster..” You huffed, annoyance lathering your voice. “ Don’t make me take over and-- break you,” 
You cringed at the sound of your voice, trying to turn away to smush your face into a damp pillow. Sight was not getting easier, and the cock barreling in even thrusts-- pushing your arousal to the edge-- was not making you any more satisfied.
“Don’t look away, then;” Lane panted, moving the hand supporting your hip, to hold up your thigh. You were exposed to the room, legs spread as you laid on your side and Lane pumped into you from behind. You saw his fingers digging into the fat of your thigh, thicker and stronger than you expected. “Wanna see you… wanna kiss, my mate.”
He had easier, deeper access now that he raised your leg, spreading your cheeks and hole wider, letting him fill and feel you at an ecstatic angle. You could hear him moving in and out, feel the sweat dripping down your ankle, the thickness of his pre-cum in trickles. It was a different sensation compared to the thin, stickiness of your arousal. 
You turned to glare at him, biting down on your lip to prevent from marking him. 
But Lane kissed you anyway with the same wet, feverish, tongued attempt that he had always prayed for. It was no easy feat to stop him from sucking on your tongue, from jutting himself over and over inside of you, with wilted moans growing in volume at your taste.
Your orgasm was on the rise, Lane’s own having just passed as he came with ropes, coating the base of your cervix. And yet, he didn’t stop-- desperate to watch you come, to force you to be bonded with him. 
You ripped from his begging mouth, twisting as far behind you as you could to bite at his cheek, using him as your personal chew toy. Lane leaned against you, accepting it with a blissed-out gape. He could take this pain, could handle coming down from his ecstasy to service you. He would steal your kindness, your rage, your sadism-- and it would be his, and his alone to feel. 
Being inside of you was heaven enough, he could take being dragged into hell with you too. Even when you finished-- when he went limp and your mixed arousal began to dry, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to pull out of you. He wanted to stay inside your warmth, to be intertwined and conjoined with you for as long as possible. You had marked him, had sealed your fate as soon as he thrusted himself in to the hilt.
You’d have to pry him away before he let you go tonight. And you’d never, be able to keep him farther than an arms distance, forever. 
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regal-bones · 7 months ago
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‘A bartender, a lifeguard and an aquarium all rolled into one! With our new Typhoon Units, you can spend less time waiting for drinks and more time enjoying our fantastic low gravity swimming facilities. Whether you’re after a Neptunian style martini or just looking for someone to watch the kids, our Typhoon Units are on the case!’
For more information, check your nearest information terminal to see unit specifications, duties, and more importantly the cocktail menu.
Watch the trailer for Last Sprout: A Seedling of Hope at this link! 🌱
You can support me on Patreon for £1 and see concept art, assets, and snippets of story for the game!
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angie-likes-to-art · 5 months ago
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Fic Recs (Stranger Things Edition V)
All fics are fem!reader
Marvel One Two Three Harry Potter One Two Three Stranger Things One Two Three Four Specific Characters Tangerine Masterlist
New in Town by @galaxy-siren
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader Request: hey!! could you write a story where a new girl at school decides to nervously go up to Eddie during lunch? She gently taps his shoulder to get his attention to ask him something. ahh I don’t know you can decide what she wants to ask him! lol meanwhile Eddie is just “🤨…😍”
Horror Movies & Chill by @eiightysixbaby (18+ Only)
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader Summary: eddie tries to scare you and gets more than he bargained for.
Satanic Panic by @hand-candy-writing
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader Summary: “you encounter eddie munson in the cafeteria during his satanic panic rant, but quickly distract him from his tirade.”
Happy Hours (Series, Ongoing) by @bangaveragewhitewine (18+ Only)
Pairing: Bouncer!Eddie Munson x Bartender!Reader Summary: When you’re not pouring beers and shaking cocktails behind the bar of Jackie’s, you’re fighting flirting balancing banter and bite with the metalhead bouncer on your break. A busy Friday night changes how you see Eddie Munson. Maybe you were wrong about the bouncer with his silver tongue and Bambi brown eyes...
Simmer (Series, Completed) by @upsidedownwithsteve
Pairing: Linecook!Eddie Munson x Reader Summary: “welcome to hawkins’ number one diner! where the staff don’t wanna be there and the linecook is a grumpy metal head who likes to argue with his boss and ignore everyone else. but the new waitress can’t hack the rude customers and the regulars can be a little… much.” 
Pretty Eyes by @galaxy-siren
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader Request: hii!! ok so you know that scene when Eddie is first introduced in Season 4 episode 1 where he’s exclaiming out things about conforming to society, and he’s jumping off the table and whatnot?? i was wondering if you could do something where Eddie ends up bumping into a girl while he’s moving around so dramatically, and instead of calling him a freak like he expects, she shyly apologizes for running into him when it was clearly his fault. He’d be the type to be so confused and yet go “Guys I’m in love-”😂
Bruises by @lonelysatellites (18+ Only)
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader Summary: “Working the bar in an underground bare knuckle boxing club, reader meets the new fighter on the block, a wiry, charming metal head.”
Don’t Call Me ‘Baby’ (Series, Completed) by @katyswrites (18+ Only)
Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Steve Harrington x Reader Summary: “This wasn’t supposed to happen. That’s what you would both tell yourselves, later on. It had started with a bet. You were a cocktail waitress, studying abroad in Rome and working yourself to death to keep yourself afloat. Steve Harrington was a business executive for one of the biggest tech companies in the world, ten years your senior, and earnest enough that it intrigued you. But, there was only one problem - he doesn’t do relationships. Not now, perhaps not ever. So, a deal is struck - something mutually beneficial. No attachments, and you get to be his perpetual mistress, while he makes sure you want for nothing. But, what happens when the agreement becomes more than what either of you bargained for?”
Same Old Song and Dance (Mini-Series, Completed) by @m0llygunn (18+ Only)
Pairing: Bully!Eddie Munson x Reader Summary: “Eddie’s teased and taunted you for the last decade of your life but you’re not innocent. It’s always been a game, a dance if you will.”
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