#i HAD to make this as soon as i got the idea

[cheers-to-you-th]

Don't Play Games (my heart is too fragile)

Pairing: Streamer!Seungcheol x Reader

Genre: Fluff, smut !MDNI!, s2f2l (kinda)

Tags: Fluff, strangers to friends to lovers, smut, Streamer!AU, former college classmate!Seungcheol, very short period of angst, slow burn

WC: 21k

Summary: Getting addicted to watching hot men play video games was definitely not on your year's bingo card. Getting addicted to watching Choi Seungcheol of all people? The idea would have been laughable.

Warnings: Smut, oral (m & f receiving), unprotected sex (they’re dumb, you shouldn’t be: wrap it before you tap it), pet names (princess), bigdick!Seungcheol, praise, some angst, lmk if I missed anything

taglist: @christinewithluv @cherry-zip @orngejuic @duckieo

The first time you stumbled upon Seungcheol's stream, it was an accident, a shocking one at that. It was just another boring day at work, your normal podcasts weren't doing it for you- listening about murders while writing a report on "harassment" between two employees who were simply arguing gave you some ideas that would not be very HR Manager of you- so you instead decide to go on twitch, your coworker had once told you it was perfect background noise.

You clicked on the first stream in the gaming category: Val w/coups by 'everyone_woo'. The stream had opened and the face of your old college classmate filled your screen and you nearly got whiplash from the double take you did.

Apparently the aforementioned "Coups" was the former infamous president of Chi Beta Zeta, Choi Seungcheol. It makes sense, you suppose- that they'd be friends- having been in the same frat, but the idea of shy Wonwoo from Engineering and not-so-shy Seungcheol, your fellow Communications major, was a little off-putting. That is, until you remember the other thing they had in common along with the rest of CBZ: sex.

Rumors constantly circulated: who Seungcheol brought upstairs at the last party, what girl Wonwoo was seen dragging into the supply closet near the library; although you were never a part of the rumors they spread like wildfire.

You shoved those thoughts aside as you finished the report, and when the rest of the day went by quicker than normal, you reminded yourself to thank Jeonghan later.

(And you definitely maybe went home and looked up "S.coups" on your computer before deciding his gravelly voice would be your new favorite white noise machine.)

Soon enough listening to him had become a habit; you were working? He was raging over a new fps he was trying; you were cleaning the house? He and Wonwoo were trying a new game pre-release. 

—

On Wednesdays you, Minghao, and Jeonghan have a tradition: the three of you meet at a whole-in-the-wall cafe to gossip catch up with each other outside of work-talk.  It started back in college, an agreement to always meet in the middle of the week for a break from everything—stress, assignments, life. Even now, years later, with jobs and responsibilities pulling you in different directions, Wednesdays remained sacred.

Today the three of you find yourselves in the same dimly lit restaurant you’ve all sworn by for years. It’s not anything fancy, but its quiet, comfortable, and, most importantly, they have a bartender who never questions the amount of time you all spend loitering at a table long after the food is gone.

Minghao is already there when you arrive, scrolling through his phone with the slight air of disinterest he always carried. Jeonghan shows up moments later, his usual carefree smile in place as he slid into the seat across from you.

“You’re late,” you tease, setting down your bag.

Jeonghan waves a hand dismissively. “Traffic.”

Minghao snorts, locking his phone. “We chose this place because it’s closer to your office so you can walk here.”

“Exactly,” Jeonghan says, grinning. “Too many people in my way.”

You roll your eyes but let it slide, already used to his antics. The three of you order your usuals, conversation flowing easily between catching up on work drama and not-work drama. It’s comfortable, familiar.

Then, as if on cue, Jeonghan’s eyes gleam with mischief, and you know what is coming before he even opens his mouth. “So,” he starts, resting his chin on his hand, “how’s our favorite Twitch streamer?”

You groan. “We’re not doing this.”

“Oh, we absolutely are,” Jeonghan counters. “Minghao, did you know our dear friend here has been religiously listening to Choi Seungcheol rage at video games?”

Minghao raises a brow, intrigued. “Seungcheol? That Seungcheol?”

You huff, sinking into your seat. “It’s just background noise. I put it on while I work.”

Jeonghan’s smirk widens at your dismissal. “Sure. Background noise. Because out of all the streams in the world, you just happened to choose your old college classmate’s?”

Minghao, ever observant, takes a sip of his drink before adding, “You know, he mentioned you a couple times.”

You blink. “What?”

Jeonghan nods enthusiastically. “Oh yeah. Back in CBZ, there was a few months where all he could talk about was you. He thought you were cute and would get really annoyed when you brushed him off. It was super funny seeing him finally get rejected, even if it was just because you were too oblivious to notice him flirting with you.”

“Dense,” Minghao supplies. “That was the word he used.”

You roll your eyes at them, “I wasn’t dense or oblivious, I don’t even remember talking to him for more than ten seconds. I was too focused on trying to graduate, plus he wasn’t my type.”

“Suuuuuure.” Jeonghan leers, “That’s why you listen to his voice on a daily basis now. Regret some things?”

You don’t roll your eyes at him, focusing intently on your drink as you swirl the liquid in your glass. “Whatever, I just thought it was more interesting to listen to someone I kind of knew instead of some random person.”

Jeonghan and Minghao exchange a look that makes it clear this conversation is far from over, but, mercifully, they let it go—for now.

—

A week later they grill you about Seungcheol one more time before finally deciding to let it go, thinking finally you can live in peace. 

That’s why you’re almost having a heart attack as you exit the elevator to see the very man of your dreams standing outside the apartment adjacent to yours, moving boxes in hand. Frozen, you stand there gawking looking at him. As if he can feel your gaze, Seungcheol looks over at you and raises an eyebrow in question, looking borderline nervous and irritated. It broke whatever trance you were in as you introduced yourself (trying your best not to stutter) as a former classmate. He visibly relaxed at that while his eyes lit up in recognition.

“Professor Han’s class, right? We had a study group together one time.” You nod, thinking back to how girls had glared at you during class for daring to be randomly grouped with Seungcheol. The session had gone by quickly, slipping your mind until now.

“Uh, yeah, for midterms practice I think. I’m surprised you remember.” Your response has a smile pulling at the corners of his (annoyingly perfect) lips.

“Hard to forget such a pretty face.”

His words cause your eyes to roll, some things never change you suppose. You hum in response, “Except when I first came up here and you looked like I had insulted your entire bloodline or something.” 

Seungcheol’s smile, you decide, is your favorite sight. His eyes crinkle at the sides, the cutest dimples form on his cheeks when his lips curl upwards, a chuckle escaping them. “Sorry, I just thought- it doesn’t matter. It was really good seeing you again though.” A matching smile on your face, you offer to help him with any boxes but he only shakes his head.

“I was taught to never let a lady carry her own things, carrying mine? Unheard of. Although if you want to cheer me on I wouldn’t mind seeing your face more.” He winks and you just shake your head, ignoring the heat rising to your cheeks. You respond with something about outdated views before excusing yourself to the safety of your apartment, taking a deep breath to calm your racing heart.

—

Over the next few weeks, the two bump into each other frequently; exiting your apartments, entering the complex; each time briefly chatting before going your separate ways. Some nights you would get a notification about a stream, only to hear him talking through your bedroom wall. Part of you felt bad watching him play, guilt gnawing away at your thoughts and distracting you. 

It’s fine you tell yourself as you write the marketing team’s monthly performance report.

It’s fine you delude yourself as you hand said report to your deskmate, Minghao, to review.

It’s fi-shit you finally are snapped out of your denial when Minghao hands your report back covered in red pen marks and shame. He says your name with concern lacing his voice, “Have you been doing okay? You seem kind of… off and I’ve never seen this kind of work from you before.” 

You shake your head, burying your face in your hands, “Sorry Hao, it’s nothing I can’t handle.” 

He just tilts his head and tells you that, if you ever need to talk, he’s here. That was the downside of working with your best friend– you could never hide anything from him. Normally you’d take him up on the offer- tell him your woes and such- if it wasn’t so goddamn embarrassing. You brush him off before taking a deep breath and steel yourself as you weigh your options. You could either tell Seungcheol that you watch his streams or stop watching them altogether, and you sure as hell wouldn’t be inflating his ego anymore (at least that’s the reason you tell yourself, it’s definitely not that you don’t want him to feel uncomfortable around you).

The rest of the day goes by at a torturing pace, no commentary in the background to make time fly quicker. By the time you get on the bus, you’re half-asleep, and then you’re full asleep, head lulled to the side, bouncing uncomfortably on the window, not that you notice. 

“..am? Ma’am this is the last stop. You need to get off now.” The driver of the bus stands in front of you while you rub the sleep out of your eyes and look around. Taking note of the darkness outside the window and unfamiliar street, you sigh and lean your head against the window again, flinching at your slightly bruised head. 

Could this day get any fucking better.

You apologize to the driver, who just looks at you with pity, and get off the bus, gauging your surroundings and sighing, breath fogging in front of you. Your bus stop is one of the last ones, meaning after a second you realize where you are and groan, pulling out your phone to call a car. Except of-fucking-course your phone is dead. It’s late, the watch on your wrist reading 11:56 (thank god at least something of yours is working) and look around one more time, hoping a taxi would drive by and save you from the cold night. Shoulders slumped in resignation, you start walking towards your apartment, it’s only a few blocks away, a maybe twenty minute walk, as long as your notoriously shitty sense of direction screws you over, which it does. By the time you reach your building you’re shivering, nose and fingers red as you reach into your bag for your keys. 

Keys.

Keys.

Keys that you remember setting on your desk at work but don’t remember picking up. You want to scream. And cry. Mostly cry, if you’re gonna be honest because now your shitty day turned into an even shittier night. Morning, you realize as your watch now reads 12:34. A shaky laugh escapes your lips as you slump down next to the apartment complex’s glass door that seems to taunt you, as if it's rubbing in your face how close relief is and how unreachable. 

You feel your throat start to tighten and tears begin to well in your eyes.

“Y/n?” 

You think you’re starting to go insane from the cold until a warm hand lands on your shoulder, a shadow crouching in front of you. Looking up hesitantly, you come face to face with your new neighbor, plastic bag in hand from what you assume to be a late-night snack run. The tears in your eyes start to fall as you begin to sob, if you were in your right mind this would be the most embarrassing moment of your life, but right now you’re cold and hungry and scared and this man appeared like an angel sent from heaven just to help you.

“Oh my god, you’re freezing. What are you even- nevermind that come on.” Seungcheol’s arms wrap around you as he helps you up, getting into the building with his keys and walking with you to the elevator. When it starts to ascend, Seungcheol sets his bag on the ground and takes his jacket off, wrapping it around you. You don’t even have the strength to argue with him, all of it spent on the tears that now slowed to a stop as you look down at your feet, shame starting to kick in. You don’t want to imagine the look on his face right now, knowing it’ll be the same pitying glances you’ve received all day. 

The elevator dings as it arrives on the correct floor. Your feet start moving, muscle memory kicking in until you’re at your door, realizing you still don’t have your keys. When an arm once again wraps around you, you don’t even protest, allowing Seungcheol to guide you into his apartment, where he sets blankets and pillows on his couch. When you move to lay on it, he stops you.

“What are you doing? I’m sleeping on the couch, you can take my bed.” The words seemingly bring you out of the numb trance-like state you’d been in ever since you stopped crying. 

“I- what?! No, oh my god Seungcheol no, I couldn’t- I mean you’re already doing so much for me and-” A warm hand cups touches your forehead, promptly cutting off your rambling as your frantic eyes meet Seungcheol’s warm gaze. Fuck he shouldn’t look at you like that. 

“No offense Y/n but you look like you’re on the verge of hypothermia, you need the bed more than I do.” His hand moves from your cheek to pat the top of your head as you huff, letting Seungcheol guide you to his room where. You can’t help but feel guilty as you watch him rummage through his closet before emerging with a victorious smile and a large T-shirt. 

“Wear this- before you argue,” He cuts off your protests before they can even start, “think of it as me not wanting dirty clothes on my bed and, as much as I would love to see it, you are way too cold to be sleeping in panties tonight.” 

Your face flushes as you grab the shirt he holds out to you, avoiding his gaze. “Thank you Seungcheol. Really. I’m sorry that you have to do this, but I really do appreciate it.” Glancing up at him, you watch as his teasing smirk melts into something different, softer.

“Don’t apologize. I’ll always be here if you need help with something, what are neighbors for?” walking towards the door, Seungcheol looks back at you one more time, “I normally wouldn’t let you sleep without at least having a warm bath to stop a cold, but I think you’d pass out in the shower if I tried. Get a good night’s rest, yeah? I’ll see you in the morning.” And even after he leaves the room, his warmth stays, the soft gaze he’d given you burned into your eyelids as you drift to sleep.

—

The scent of coffee and bacon wakes you from deep sleep. For a second, you're disoriented, the unfamiliar surroundings causing a brief panic before switching to embarrassment as memories of last night flood back. You're in Seungcheol's bed, wrapped in his sheets that smell faintly of pinewood and something uniquely him.

Sunlight streams through gaps in the curtains, painting stripes across the room. You stretch away the ache in your muscles from the cold and stress of yesterday, tugging the oversized shirt Seungcheol lent you down as you swing your legs over the side of the bed.

Your bare feet hit cool hardwood, as you shuffle towards the bedroom door, following the enticing smell of breakfast. In the kitchen, Seungcheol stands at the stove, his broad back to you.

As you approach, Seungcheol turns, spatula in hand, and flashes you a heart-stopping smile. "Morning. How are you feeling?"

You run a hand through your sleep-mussed hair, suddenly self-conscious. "Better, thanks to you. I can't believe that happened."

"Hey, don’t worry about it," he chuckles. "I figured you could use the rest. Coffee?"

You nod gratefully while he pours you a steaming mug. Seungcheol plates up eggs, bacon, and toast. The domesticity of the scene isn't lost to you - here you are, in his clothes, sharing breakfast in his kitchen. It feels dangerously intimate.

"Thanks," you murmur, accepting the plate he hands you. "You really didn't have to do all this."

Seungcheol waves off your gratitude as he settles across from you at the small kitchen table. "It's no trouble. Besides, I couldn't let you face the day on an empty stomach after last night."

You take a bite of the perfectly crispy bacon, trying not to moan at how good it tastes. As you eat in companionable silence, you can't help but sneak glances at Seungcheol. His hair is slightly mussed from sleep, a slight sleepy haze in his eyes. He looks softer like this, less like the polished streamer and more like the boy you’d seen in college.

"So," he says after a while, setting down his mug. "Want to tell me what happened last night?"

You hesitate, your fork hovering over your plate. What were you supposed to say? That you had been thinking of him non-stop for the last 24 hours? That you were a mess whose sense of direction was almost as bad as your work-life balance? That you'd been caught in what was arguably one of your worst moments, by none other than the main cause of your original turmoil?

He seems to sense your internal conflict because he leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. His tone softens, playful but not prying. "You don’t have to, y'know. I just figured you might want to talk about it. Seems like you had a long day, I won’t judge."

You sigh, feeling the weight of exhaustion creep back in. "It’s not even that interesting," you start, avoiding his eyes. " It was just... one thing after another. Fell asleep on the bus, could’t call a taxi caus’ my phone died, forgot my keys at work; Honestly, the world was conspiring against me the whole day, I swear."

Seungcheol hums thoughtfully, swirling the last of his coffee in his mug. "Sounds rough. No one likes walking around in the freezing cold with no way to get inside. It was a good thing I went out when I did, maybe it’s a sign I should take more midnight snack runs."

You laugh softly and promptly ignore the stuttering of your heart, "Hopefully it won’t happen again," you admit. "And… either way it’s not exactly something I want to bother you with."

He raises an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. "You weren’t a bother at all. Besides, I think helping you out is the bare minimum of what neighbors should do, don’t you?"

Neighbor. The word feels heavier than it should, he’s right; all you are to him is a neighbor, nothing more nothing less. You try to play off the feeling of your heart dropping into your shoes, shaking your head with a small laugh. "I have to admit, I’d never have guessed you were the knight-in-shining-armour type. At-night-in-UnderArmour maybe, but this is unexpected"

Seungcheol grins, his dimples flashing. "Hey now, don’t let the frat guy rep fool you. I’ve always been nice."

You laugh at that, the tension in your chest loosening. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

As he rinses the dishes, you take a moment to look around his apartment. It’s cozy, a mix of modern furniture and personal touches—a stack of books on the coffee table, a framed photo of what looks like his old frat brothers on a shelf, and a ridiculous number of gaming peripherals on his desk. It suits him, you think, the same way his easy smile and annoyingly perfect hair suit him.

"So," Seungcheol says, drying his hands before turning to face you. "Any plans today? Or are you planning to crash and catch up on sleep?"

"Work," you groan, already dreading the thought of going back to the office. "I have to deal with a report I butchered yesterday."

"Rough," he says, leaning against the counter. "Tell you what—after work, if you’re up for it, I’ll make dinner. Consider it part two of my neighborly duties."

The offer catches you off guard, but you manage to nod despite the sudden flutter in your stomach. "You don’t have to keep feeding me, you know."

Seungcheol just shrugs, a teasing glint in his eye. "I know. But I want to. Plus, you owe me. You cried on my shirt last night, remember?"

Your jaw drops, heat rushing to your face as you groan. "I did not—!"

"You totally did," he interrupts with a laugh, clearly enjoying your embarrassment. "It’s okay, though. It’s a good story."

"You’d better not go spreading this around mister." you say, pointing a warning finger at him. But the smile tugging at your lips betrays you, and Seungcheol just grins wider.

"Hmm I make no promises madam."

As you gather your things and prepare to face the day, Seungcheol’s warm gaze and easy laughter lingers in your mind, making you feel giddy and guilty at the same time. And as you step out of his apartment, you realize you’re already looking forward to the evening.

—

The day drags on slower than you’d like, each hour feeling like an eternity between the mountain of emails, the endless meetings, and the painstakingly slow process of fixing your stupid report.

By the time you get back to your apartment (with your keys this time, thank god), exhaustion is settled deep in your bones. You drop your bag by the door and kick off your shoes, barely making it to the couch before collapsing in a heap. The thought of getting up, even to change out of your work clothes, feels like an impossible task.

A soft knock at your door jolts you out of your half-asleep state. For a split second, you consider ignoring it, but then you remember Seungcheol’s offer(demand?) from this morning. With a groan, you drag yourself up and shuffle to the door, opening it to find him standing there, a grin on his face and a grocery bag in hand.

"Thought you might be too tired to make it over," he says, holding up the bag. "So, I figured I’d bring the dinner to you."

You blink at him, caught off guard. "You… didn’t have to do that," you mumble, though the smell wafting from the bag has your stomach growling in protest.

He laughs, brushing past you into the apartment. "I know. But you seemed like you had a long day, and I wasn’t about to let you skip a proper meal. Plus, I’m not sure I trust you to make anything edible in your state."

"Hey!" you protest, following him into the kitchen. "I’m perfectly capable of cooking, thank you very much."

He raises an eyebrow, eyes scanning your kitchen clearly unconvinced. "Sure you are. When was the last time you had something that wasn’t instant ramen or takeout?"

You open your mouth to argue, but the words die on your tongue because… well, the empty takeout boxes in your kitchen speak enough. Instead, you cross your arms and huff. "Fine. You win. But only because I’m too tired to argue."

"Glad we’re on the same page," he says, already unpacking the bag and setting up in your kitchen like he owns the place. You watch as he moves with practiced ease, pulling out ingredients and utensils like he’s done this a million times before.

It’s oddly comforting, watching him work. The kitchen feels warmer, cozier, with him in it. You find yourself leaning against the counter, a small smile tugging at your lips as he chats about his day—about how his coworker accidentally sent an email to the entire company, or how he nearly slipped on ice outside his building.

Before you know it, the smell of something delicious fills the air, and your stomach growls loudly, earning a laugh from Seungcheol.

"I guess you’re hungry," he teases, sliding a plate in front of you. 

You roll your eyes but can’t hide your grin as you pick up your fork. "If this is bad, I’m never letting you live it down."

He smirks, leaning against the counter as he watches you take your first bite. The flavors hit your tongue, and you can’t help the satisfied hum that escapes you.

"Okay, fine," you admit, reluctantly. "This is… not bad."

"Sure, not bad. Dare you say good?" he says, his grin widening. "You’re welcome, by the way."

The two of you eat together, the conversation flowing easily. It’s light and playful, with just the right amount of teasing to keep you on your toes. By the time the plates are empty, you realize you’re smiling more than you have in days.

As he helps you clean up, you find yourself glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. There’s something about the way he moves, the way he laughs, that makes your chest feel a little too tight and your thoughts a little too scattered.

"Thanks for this," you say softly as he dries the last plate. "I really needed it."

He looks at you, his expression softening. "Anytime," he says simply. "That’s what neighbors are for, right?"

Neighbor. There it is again, that word. But this time, it doesn’t feel as heavy. Because maybe, just maybe, it’s not about what you are to each other now, but about what you could be.

—

A few days pass in a blurry haze. Seungcheol’s number was now saved in your phone, his occasional texts making you more giddy than you’d like to admit. The two of you occasionally see each other in the hallway, tonight he knocks on your door with food in hand, claiming he made too much and offering you some. You invite him in to share the meal (you’re just being a good neighbor), laughing and joking around as if it was the most natural thing in the world. And honestly, it kind of was. 

Seungcheol insists on brewing you a cup of tea before he leaves, claiming it’s the perfect way to wind down after a long day. You let him, mostly because you’re too tired to argue but also because, well… It's nice having him here.

He chats while the kettle heats up, leaning casually against the counter like he belongs in your kitchen. The way he speaks, the rhythm of his voice, fills the quiet space in a way that feels natural—like he’s not just filling silence but adding something to it.

When he hands you the steaming mug, his fingers brush yours briefly, and you try not to overthink the spark of warmth that lingers long after he pulls away.

"So, any big plans tomorrow?" he asks, settling into a chair at your kitchen table. It feels oddly domestic, like this is something the two of you do all the time. You shake your head, cradling the mug in your hands. "Just work. Again. Though I’m praying for fewer disasters this time."

He chuckles, resting his chin in his hand as he looks at you. "Sounds like you could use a break. Maybe take the weekend off, do something fun."

You snort softly. “Like what, go clubbing or something? Not really my vibe."

"Doesn’t have to be that extreme," he says, grinning. "It could be something simple. A walk in the park, binge-watching a terrible reality show, or trying out that café down the street you keep mentioning but never go to."

You raise an eyebrow at him. "Are you suggesting I take myself on a date?"

"Hey, self-care is important," he says with a shrug, though the teasing glint in his eye suggests he’s enjoying himself. "But if you need a plus-one, I might be available."

The words hang in the air for a moment, and you’re not entirely sure how to respond. Is he joking? Probably. But there’s a softness in his expression that makes you wonder if there’s more to it than that.

"I’ll think about it," you say finally, trying to sound casual. "But don’t get your hopes up, Cheol. I’m not easy to impress."

He smirks, leaning back in his chair. "So it’s Cheol now, huh? Don’t apologize- I like it." he once again practically reads your thoughts, “And here, once you’re done thinking, let me know, yeah? Or in case you get locked out again.” Seungcheol slides over his phone with a new contact open as you roll your eyes, typing your number in anyways.

It’s late by the time he finally leaves, the mug you used now washed and drying on the counter. As you close the door behind him, your apartment feels quieter than it did before. Not in a bad way— the kind of quiet that lets you think. You find yourself replaying the evening in your head: his laugh, the way he somehow managed to turn your chaotic kitchen into a space that felt warm and inviting, the way his gaze didn’t leave you once when the two of you talked.

Shaking your head, you force yourself to focus on getting ready for bed. It’s nothing, you tell yourself. He’s probably just trying to make some new friends in the neighborhood.

But as you crawl under the covers, your mind drifts back to his earlier word, "If you need a plus-one, I might be available." The thought lingers, a soft thread of warmth that wraps around your chest as you grab your phone, typing a message before you can change your mind. Your fingers hover over the screen for a moment before you close your eyes and press send.

You: So how about that date?

The text felt heavier as the three little dots that blink back at you in reply. You hold your breath, heartbeat thudding in your ears.

When his text pops up on your phone, a shy smile automatically spreads across your face as you read it.

Seungcheol: How about Saturday?

Seungcheol: I’ll plan it—just be ready by 10.

The squeal you let out could rival one of a teenage girl on her first date as you kick your feet giddily in bed. Fuck, you were already down so bad. When you hear a chuckle through the wall your phone drops to the floor with a thud as it buzzes again..

Seungcheol: Careful, I might start to hope you’re looking forward to seeing me

This arrogant correct motherfucker. Your fingers type a quick response, trying to save whatever dignity you have left.

You: Saw a spider

You: Anyways where should I meet you?

His response makes your eyes roll with endearment annoyance.

Seungcheol: I think your memories are getting mixed up, spider was what everyone called Hoshi, not me. And no spoilers, just dress comfortably.

—

Two days later, Saturday morning rolls around, and you’re standing in front of your mirror, staring at your outfit for the third time. He said casual, so why are you frantically searching for the perfect attire? 

It’s fine, you think, not over the top. He doesn’t know what your closet looks like anyways, for all he knows you always wear this kind of clothes.

Your cozy beige sweater is paired with jeans and ankle boots, casual but still nice. Your makeup is light, natural. 

A knock on your door makes your heart jolt. Grabbing your bag, you take a steadying breath before opening it.

Seungcheol stands there, hands casually tucked in his jacket pocket, a grin already spreading across his face. His eyes flick up and down your body once, twice, hitching in some areas before finally settling on your eyes.

“You-” He clears his throat, “You look really good.” His eyes flick away from yours briefly, you swear you hear him mutter something along the lines of too good but it must be your imagination, flustered by how the man in front of you seems almost shy.

“Thanks,” you reply, giving him a similar once over to the one he’d subjected you to earlier. 

Black cargo pants with a dark denim jacket (that somehow looks warm) over a white graphic T. The outfit might look sloppy on someone else, but Seungcheol makes it look like he should be on a runway, the clothes draping over him perfectly as though everything was custom-made for him. 

“You don’t look half bad yourself.”

“You really are hard to impress huh?” he teases. “Lucky for you I’m always happy to deliver. Ready to go?”

The two of you walk to the parking outside as you chat, getting into his annoyingly nice car. You can’t help but wonder where he’s taking you as the roads out the window blur. No matter how hard you try to pry the information out of him, he doesn’t budge. A lesson in patience, he tells you. When the car finally stops, you look around, surprised– an amusement park.

“Seriously?” you ask, poorly trying to hide your smile as you stare at him.

“What? Too childish for you princess?” he says with a sly grin. You just hum in faux indignation, giving up on any attempt at hiding your smile.

The park is alive with bright lights, lively music; the smell of popcorn and funnel cakes wafting through the chilly air. You wander through the attractions, playing a few games and riding the tamer rides to start. At one of the stands, Seungcheol picks up two pairs of animal ears, holding them where you can’t see. 

“Pick a side.” he states with a sparkle in his eyes, hands behind his back.

You roll your eyes at his antics and do as he asks.

“Good choice,” he said, handing you a pair of floppy bunny ears, putting the other set- wolf ears- on his own head. “How do I look?”

You snort. “Ridiculous.”

“Come on princess, I think yours suit you perfectly,” he teased, tugging gently on one of the ears now perched on your head. He drags you over to one of the photo-booths scattered around the park and pulls you inside as you laugh.

His arm is wrapped around you, who instinctively leans into his shoulder as the screen counts down. After some more silly shots, the last timer runs on the screen. The two of you are posing when you impulsively turn your head and press a kiss to his cheek as the flash goes off. Before you can try and see Seungcheols expression you quickly get out of the booth, crouching down to wait for the photos to print. A shadow surrounds you but you ignore it, grabbing the two photo stips and standing up, actively avoiding looking at the man behind you until you feel strong arms circle around your waist.

“Don’t get shy on me now, princess.” Seungcheol’s voice is low and quiet, his breath tickling you neck. He gently turns you around in his arms, forcing you to face him. When you do, you can’t help the giggle that escapes your lips.

His eyebrows raise, expression soft and questioning as you raise your hand to his cheek. “You’ve uh.. Got a little something on here.” Before you can wipe off the lipstick mark a hand grabbing your wrist stops you. Seungcheol just hums, the smile on his face growing as he responds. “Leave it there, I like it.”

You look away, flustered, “It might stain.”

His smile only grows further as his hands squeeze your waist reassuringly, “Even better.”

A few more hours fly by in a blur of laughter, shared glances, and the occasional screaming as you ride a roller coaster. As the day winds down, Seungcheol leads you toward the Ferris wheel.

“Ending with a Ferris wheel ride at sunset huh?” you tease with a smirk. “Classic.”

He chuckles. “You’re smiling, so I think it’s worth being cheesy.”

Your face flushes as you step into the car with him, the soft glow of the park lights casting everything in a dreamy haze. As the wheel lifts you higher, you take in the moment—simple, sweet, and perfect.

The car sways gently as it begins to ascend, the world growing smaller beneath your feet. Seungcheol leans back in the seat across from you, his arm casually draped across the edge, as though the intimacy of the situation didn’t seem to bother him at all. Meanwhile, your heart is racing, the memories of the day making it difficult to keep your composure as you keep your eyes trained on the park as it gets smaller and smaller.

“Nice view,” the man across from you murmurs. When you sneak a glance at him, his eyes aren’t on the horizon—they’re focused on you, his soft expression making your breath hitch.

You bite the inside of your cheek, turning to face the window again. “Yeah, it’s beautiful,” you agree, your voice coming out shakier than intended. The warmth of the sunset casts a golden glow across the park below, lights beginning to twinkle as the day faded.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Seungcheol shift slightly closer. “You’ve been smiling all day,” he comments. “Do I get some credit for that, or was it just the funnel cakes?”

You laugh, turning back to meet his gaze. “Oh definitely the funnel cake, But you’re decent company too, I guess.”

He grins, leaning forward just slightly. “Decent? Come on, you can do better than that.”

You raise a brow, trying to hold your ground despite how his closeness makes you feel like melting into the seat. “Don’t push your luck.”

For a moment, there’s nothing but the distant hum of the park and the creak of the Ferris wheel as it carries you higher. His expression softens, and he tilts his head slightly, as though weighing his next words carefully. “You know,” he starts, his voice low, “I wasn’t kidding when I said I hoped you were looking forward to seeing me.”

Your breath catches, and you search his face for any trace of teasing, but his expression is nothing but sincerity with a tinge of nervousness. “Maybe I was,” you admit quietly.

His smile widens, dimples returning with full force as the confidence that had momentarily wavered in his eyes returns. “I’m glad. Maybe I was hoping to see you too.”

The car comes to a stop at the top of the wheel, leaving the two of you suspended in the sky. The view is breathtaking, but all you can focus on is the way Seungcheol’s eyes shine, on the curve of his nose, where your lips are stamped on his cheek, how soft and welcoming his own lips look. His fingers brush your own and your heart is pounding so loudly you’re sure he can hear it.

“Is this okay?” he asks, his voice smooth and steady, as if sensing your hesitation.

You nod, your gaze flicking between his eyes and the hand now gently covering yours. “Yeah. Just… you make me nervous.” As soon as the words leave your mouth you want to jump out of the ferris wheel.

He chuckles softly, the sound halting your thoughts. “Ditto.” he remarks and you swear your heart stops as he leans closer, his voice barely above a whisper. His face is inches from yours, the space between you charged with tension. You could feel the warmth of his breath mixing with your own, the weight of his presence grounding you and making your head spin all at once.

And then, as though the universe decided it hated you, the car jolts slightly, the Ferris wheel beginning its descent. The tension clears, and you both laugh as it dissolves into something softer and more familiar. When you both reach the ground, Seungcheol offers you a hand as you step out of the gondola, not letting go until the two of you reach his car. 

Seungcheol opens the passenger door for you, his hand lingering on the frame as you step in. He waits until you’re settled, closing the door with a gentle thud before walking around to the driver’s side. As he slides into the seat, the soft click of the doors locking echoes in the quiet night.

The drive home is comfortable, the radio humming a mellow tune as the city lights streak past the windows. Neither of you speak much, but for once you don’t mind the silence, it’s comfortable, as if the events of the day are still settling in your minds. 

When the two of you finally arrive at your adjacent apartments, he turns to look at you.

“So,” he begins, his voice carrying that familiar teasing lilt, “did I live up to your standards of being ‘decent company’?”

You roll your eyes, biting back a grin. “I guess you weren’t terrible,” you reply, feigning nonchalance.

He chuckles, shaking his head as he leans against the wall. “I’ll take it. Progress is progress.”

The silence that follows isn’t awkward—it’s heavy with the weight of the day, the laughter, the quiet moments, and the words that neither of you seems quite ready to say.

“Well,” you finally say, your hand moving to the door handle, “thanks for today. I really needed it.”

Seungcheol doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, he reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out the photo strip from earlier at the amusement park. He holds it out to you, his fingers brushing yours when you take it.

You glance down at the photos—the silly poses, the bunny ears, the surprised look on his face as you kissed his cheek—and your chest tightens in the best way possible. “Thanks,” you murmur, your voice almost lost in the stillness.

When you look back up, he’s watching you, his expression unreadable. He shifts, fingers lightly grazing yours.

“Hey,” he says quietly, his voice steadier than you feel. “If you’re up for it… we should do this again sometime.”

Your breath catches, and for a moment, all you can do is nod. “Yeah,” you manage, your voice soft. “I’d like that too.”

His smile grows, and for a split second, you think he might lean in, but instead, he squeezes your hand gently before pulling back. “Get some rest.” he says, his tone light but his eyes lingering on yours.

As you open your door, the apartment inside feels emptier than normal. You pause, glancing back at Seungcheol.

“Text me when you’re free,” he says, his grin now fully teasing. “Or, you know, just knock on the wall or something.”

You laugh, shaking your head as you softly close the door. Your heart races as you lean against it, the photo strip still clutched in your hand. You glance down at the images, your smile widening as you run your thumb over the glossy surface.

You were screwed—completely and utterly fucked—but for the first time in a long while, you didn’t mind one bit.

—

Jeonghan is late again, you’d think he’d learn to use his time better on Wednesdays but some things never change, you suppose. You sit across from Hao, sipping on your coffee as he eyes you suspiciously.

“So,” he begins, placing his tea on the table, his voice carrying that signature teasing lilt. “You went on a date.”

You nearly choke, coughing into your hand as you set your drink down. “Excuse me? How do you know that?”

He just smirks, leaning back in his chair with an air of triumph. “I was just guessing but you just confirmed it.”

Your jaw drops at his audacity. “That’s not fair—you tricked me!”

“Hardly,” he replies, stirring his tea with mock innocence. “You’re just too easy to read. So was it good?”

Before you can fire back, a familiar voice cuts in, smooth and teasing. “What’s this about a date?”

You turn to see Jeonghan strolling toward your table, his blazer slung over one shoulder and his hair annoyingly perfect, as if he’d stepped out of a magazine, not his office. He grins as he pulls out a chair to join you.

“Oh, great,” you mutter, sinking into your seat. “Now it’s both of you.”

Jeonghan raises a brow, clearly delighted. “Both of us? This sounds like a story. Go on, I’m listening.”

Minghao smirks, pointing at you with his spoon. “She went on a date.”

“Stop saying it like that,” you shoot back, narrowing your eyes at him.

Jeonghan’s eyes light up as he leans forward, resting his chin in his hand. “Ooh, let me guess, the new neighbor you told us about?”

You sigh, knowing you’re outnumbered. “Okay, okay fine. Yes, with the neighbor, and it was nice. That’s all you’re getting.”

“Nice?” Jeonghan repeats, feigning disappointment. “That’s all? Come on, you can do better than that. You haven’t been on a date in god-knows how long and all you can say is ‘nice’?”

“Why are you even here?” you snap, though you couldn’t help the laugh that slipped through.

Minghao tilts his head thoughtfully. “Was it ‘okay’ good or ‘planning another date’ good?”

“I’m betting it’s the second one.” Jeonghan said, his voice lilting. 

You groaned, dropping your face into your hands. “Why do I tell either of you anything?”

Jeonghan flashes his signature cheshire smile, nudging your arm. “Because we’re your favorite. Now, come on. Was there a spark? A magical moment? Did you trip over something and land in his arms? Don’t leave us hanging.”

“Nothing like that, you dork.” you respond, trying to hide your smile but failing miserably. “It was just... fun. Exciting. Better than I thought it would be.” Jeonghan and Minghao exchange a look, one of those silent, unspoken conversations that only the three of you could understand.

“Definitely planning date two,” Minghao says, deadpan.

You groan again, but the warmth of their teasing—playful and supportive—makes it impossible to be annoyed. “I hate you guys,” you mumble, though your laugh gives you away.

“And yet,” Jeonghan teases, raising an imaginary glass, “you keep us around. To your nice, hot neighbor for finally getting you out of your apartment!”

Minghao raises his tea to join in. “Cheers to that.”

Rolling your eyes, you clink your mug against theirs. “You’re both insufferable.”

“For sure,” Minghao says with a smile, “that’s why you love us.”

—

Weeks pass in a blur of updating your nosy friends and texting Seungcheol, soon enough you find yourself looking forward to his messages, giddy feelings replaced with warmth and comfort. The banter is light but always at the edge of something more lingering between every word.

Cheol: So u finally going to admit that you miss me?You: I don’t wanna lie to you Cheol.Cheol: You say that now, but wait until this weekend. You’ll be begging for more.You: Oh? What if I have plans this weekend? You know, being busy and all that.Cheol: Then I guess I’ll have to cancel my dinner reservations :(You: We can't have that can we?

The next message is an address and the words: 7pm

Saturday evening comes faster than you expected, and when you glance at the clock, the realization hits that you’re running behind. You rush to get ready, a mix of excitement and nerves churning in your stomach as you pick out an outfit matching the nice restaurant Seungcheol had sent you. You want to show him a side of yourself that’s more than you coming home or leaving for work.

You choose a dark red dress that hugs your curves in all the right places. The neckline dips just low enough, an elegant slit running up the side. Paired with black heels and a sleek necklace dangling almost dangerously low, it feels just right. You spend a little extra time on makeup, defining each feature and topping it off with a red lip that matches your dress. By the time you’re finished, you feel more confident than you have in a while.

A knock at your door sends a rush of adrenaline through your veins.You check the mirror one last time before stepping toward the door, trying to keep your composure.

When the door opens Seungcheol just stands there for a second, his eyes scanning you from head to toe. The intensity of the gaze almost has you feeling self-conscious, until you see the way his eyes take on a slightly glazed quality instead of the usual teasing glint.

“Damn,” he finally breathes out, his voice low and shaky. “You look… wow.”

You bite back your smile, feeling your cheeks heat up at his gaze. “Thanks,” you say, trying to act nonchalant, but failing miserably.

He steps closer, his gaze still lingering on you, and you can almost feel magnetic pull in the space between you. “I… ” His eyes flick down to your heels and then back up to your face, a teasing smile tugging at his lips. “I might need to take a second to adjust.”

You chuckle, feeling the warmth of his hands burning your hips through the fabric of your dress, “Well, would you look at that? Choi Seungcheol is actually tongue-tied.”

Seungcheol’s grin widens, “How could I not be speechless when you look like that?”, he asks before taking your hand and leading you to his car. The ride is short, but this time, it feels different. The air between you is thick with anticipation, neither of you speaking much—words feel unnecessary when the moment speaks for itself.

When you arrive at the restaurant, the valet greets Seungcheol like an old friend, and you can’t help but notice the way he carries himself—confident, composed, like he belongs in this world. He guides you through the entrance, a small smile on his face as gently takes your hand.

The restaurant has an air of quiet elegance, the kind that feels effortlessly luxurious. The lighting is soft, casting a golden glow on the crisp white table-cloths, the flickering candlelight adding a comforting warmth. The faint murmur of conversation fills the background, but you feel as if the two of you are in your own little world.

Seungcheol pulls your chair out for you as you sit, and you can't help but feel a little overwhelmed by how natural he makes everything feel, despite the grandeur of the setting. You settle into your seat, your hand instinctively resting on the edge of the table, your fingers brushing the silverware as you glance around. The atmosphere is luxurious, yes, but there’s something reassuring about the way Seungcheol carries himself, like he’s right at home here.

Once the menus are set in front of you, Seungcheol doesn’t hesitate. He scans the offerings with a casual air but glances over at you as you study the menu in your hands. "Don't let the fancy setting fool you. The food here is surprisingly good. I’ve been here more than once.” he says, his voice smooth and low, the confidence he carries in all things evident in the casual mention.

You chuckle, glancing up at him. “Take a lot of your dates here, do you?”

Seungcheol raises an eyebrow, that signature smirk tugging at his lips. “Only one.” 

You can’t help the shy smile that spreads across your face, “Who would have known you’re secretly a softy.”

He leans forward slightly, lowering his voice as though sharing a secret. “I’ve got layers, princess. Lots of layers.”

The way he says it, so effortlessly confident, causes your stomach to flutter a lot little. You take a sip of your water, trying not to let him see how much he’s affecting you. “I’m sure. I bet you’re the life of the party at places like this.”

Seungcheol smirks and leans back in his chair, clearly pleased with your reaction. “I can be. But I also know when to appreciate the quiet nights. Sometimes it’s better to enjoy the little things.” His gaze shifts to meet yours then, a quiet intensity in his eyes. It’s a subtle change, but one that makes your heart race.

You swallow, suddenly acutely aware of his gaze. You glance at the menu again, though you haven’t truly registered anything on it. “I’ll take your word for it,” you manage, trying to keep your voice steady.

When the waiter returns to take your order, Seungcheol speaks for both of you, his choices seemingly effortless. You take the time to fully appreciate the man in front of you; the way his red tie is the same hue as your dress, how his white button up stretches across his chest giving an outline of a fit physique further supported in the way his sleeves strain against his arms. 

Seungcheol clears his throat, and you realize you’ve been caught red-handed, so you decide to just shrug because yeah, he’s hot. There’s something more serious about the way Seungcheol watches you now, his eyes tracing the curve of your neck, the way the candlelight plays in your hair. It’s as if the energy in the room has shifted, becoming a little more personal.

“I have to admit,” he says after a long pause, his voice softer than before, “I’m having a really good time.”

You laugh, but it’s not from nervousness. It’s a genuine sound. “You’ve been teasing me nonstop for days. I’d hope you at least had a good time after all that hard work.”

His lips curve into that familiar teasing smile. “I’ve been doing more than teasing. You just don’t realize it yet.” He tilts his head slightly. “I’m glad you came, though. Really.”

The words, simple as they are, catch you off guard. It’s one thing for him to be flirty, but for him to show this side of him, this quiet sincerity... you weren’t prepared for it.

Before you can respond, the drinks arrive—a crisp white wine for you, a rich red for him. The clink of glass as it’s set on the table draws you back into the moment. Seungcheol raises his glass, his eyes locked on yours. "To good company," he says, his tone earnest but playful.

You smile and clink your glass against his, the material cool against your fingers. “To good company,” you repeat, your voice just as soft.

The conversation flows easy after that, not forced, but natural. He talks about his favorite restaurants, his travels, and how he’s surprisingly fond of quiet nights. You find yourself opening up more than you intended, sharing stories about your childhood, what drives you, what you love most about your work. He listens intently, his gaze never wavering, his attention fully on you. As if every word matters to him, every sentence is important.

It’s hard not to notice how his gaze shifts from playful to something more thoughtful as you speak, his eyes locking on yours with an unreadable emotion that makes your breath catch every time. You don’t want to admit it, but his attention feels like a constant pull on your thoughts, something that you can’t seem to escape.

When your meal arrives, the soft clink of silverware against the fine china is the only sound for a moment. You both pause, then Seungcheol leans back slightly, eyeing your plate with a mischievous grin. “You’re not going to finish that, are you?” he teases. “I’ll be happy to help.”

You raise an eyebrow, shooting him a playful glance. “I think I’ll manage just fine.”

The two of you laugh easily over the shared dish, the comfortable intimacy of it all settling around you like a familiar blanket. It’s rare to feel so at ease with someone in this kind of setting, but with Seungcheol, it’s effortless.

At some point during dessert, Seungcheol reaches across the table and gently runs his thumb along your hand. The motion is slow, deliberate, and for the first time, he’s not teasing. His touch is softer, and his eyes—god those eyes—hold a sincerity that has you feeling like you’re the only person in the room–in the whole world even.

“You know,” he murmurs, “I’m really glad you agreed to come out with me tonight.”

You hum, feeling a flutter deep in your chest. “So you’ve mentioned.” 

After a moment you respond again, “I am too.”

You both sit in silence for a moment, the tension between you now wrapping around your mind and dulling the outside world. The soft clink of glasses, the quiet hum of the restaurant, the distant murmur of conversations... it all fades into the background.

Finally, after a long moment of simply looking at each other, Seungcheol stands and walks around to your side of the table, offering his hand. “Let’s go,” he says, his voice low but steady.

By the time you’re at the door to your apartment, the tension between the two of you is almost suffocating. You invite him inside, and Seungcheol takes a deep breath, “I’m not sure if that’s a good idea. I don’t think I’ll be able to hold myself back.”

And when you lean close to his ear and tell him then don’t, it’s like floodgates open. Seungcheol shuts the door behind him, crowding you against it as he leans close to you, hands finding your hips and breath warm against your ear. “Do you even know what you’ve been doing to me all night?” he asks, voice so low it's almost a growl.

You smile, hands trailing up his torso to wrap around his neck, “I guess I clean up well.”

Seungcheol chuckles darkly, experimentally squeezing your hips,  “Too bad I’m gonna get you all dirty again.”

When he tilts your chin up to meet his lips, you expect the kiss to be hungry, as desperate as he has you feeling, instead Seungcheol kisses you slowly, tenderly with a sweetness rivaling ambrosia. Your arms wind themselves around his neck, pressing yourself harder against him as if even a second apart would be painful because, quite frankly, that’s how kissing him felt. He takes his time to savor each brush of your lips on his, each sigh that you breathe into his mouth.

Seungcheol looks absolutely ruined. His pupils are blown out, hair messy with your hands in it and red lipstick smeared on his swollen lips. You’re sure you don’t look much different, as the two of you crash back together at the same time. This kiss is how you expected the first to be, hungry, desperate, and hard.

Even when your lungs burn for air your lips chase after him when he separates from you, pupils blown out, hair messy, your lipstick smeared across his mouth, Seungcheol looks absolutely ruined. 

The only thing you can hear is breathlessness before you’re tangling your fingers into his hair to crash your lips together again. Seungcheol presses into even more, hands pushing against your door as he intoxicates you once more. The kiss isn’t soft this time, lust taking over and pulling the two of you into each other. His hand moves to your jaw, switching the angle and taking away any last bit of brain function you have because even when kissing you with such passion Seungcheol still isn’t rough with you. He kisses you with a confidence and control that has you whimpering into his lips.

The sound clearly affects him, his tongue prodding at your lips and a small breath leaving him when you open your mouth further. He starts exploring your mouth as his hands move to explore your body, sliding up and down your waist to your thighs, where he squeezes before lifting you up seemingly effortlessly. 

“Your room?” Seungcheol murmurs into your mouth. You break apart from him once again, hands on either side of his face, forehead resting against his. “Same layout as your apartment.” You recall, resuming the kiss once more as he carries you over to your bed, gently setting you down on the edge.

He drinks the breathy sound that leaves your mouth when his fingers find the zipper on your back, slowly drawing it down and caressing each new plane of skin revealed to him. You lift your hips, helping him get the dress fully off your body and thrown somewhere on the floor. You try to pull him in closer to you but Seungcheol is frozen. You wiggle impatiently and he just shakes his head at you, a breathy laugh leaving his kiss swollen lips.

“Be patient baby, let me appreciate you, fuck.” The last word comes from a deep place in his chest, an almost guttural sound as his hands gently trace up your legs, hips, waist, settling just below your dark red lace bra that matches your now discarded dress. He looks at you with an awe equal to that of meeting a deity, as if he’d never seen anything more captivating and never will in this lifetime. His gaze makes you flush because you’re just you, sure you put on a pretty matching set but even then you didn’t think he’d be this into it. You apparently verbalize your thoughts unintentionally because Seungcheol looks up at you once more, this time gaze filled with disbelief.

“Just you? Just you? God, you really don’t know how beautiful you are, do you, princess?” The nickname causes a shiver to go down your spine, his hands gently as they move behind you, unclipping your bra. “So perfect, so pretty for me.” His words are accompanied by his hands slowly massaging your now bare chest before he dives into you, mouth ravishing every inch on your skin as he pulls sounds from you. Your fingers find their way to his hair, tugging when he nips at your skin. After thoroughly stealing your breath his lips start making their way down to where you need him most. His nose presses against your core causing an embarrassingly depraved whimper to leave you.

“Fuck princess, you’re so ready for me,” he says as he pulls your panties away from your body, holding them up for you to see the ruined fabric. You don’t have time to think about them as he starts to leave hot open mouthed kisses on your inner thigh before dipping his tongue ever so slightly into your weeping hole. Your hands tug slightly on his hair and seemingly break whatever resolve he has as he starts to devour you. He knows exactly when to slow down, licking your cunt up and sucking in ways that have your head spinning. Your insides clench around nothing, leaking arousal as his lips wrap around your clit. He drinks all of your juices, his tongue collecting your wetness like water. 

When he focuses his tongue on your hole, prodding timidly inside you as your walls beg to be stretched, your hands tug harshly at his hair, making him moan right into your cunt, as if he’s enjoying the pull of his hair as you use him for your pleasure. Your orgasm approaches at the speed of light, quicker than you’d ever thought a man could pull from you.

You spasm with each swipe of his tongue that gets faster as he notices how close you are. When he decides to focus on teasing your clit, something snaps in you and you come undone on his tongue. 

He practically makes out with your cunt, stretching out your orgasm and making your legs tremble at his sides. You can feel the big smirk across his lips through your pleasure-induced haze. He doesn’t move away even when you start to feel over stimulated, you tug on his hair.

“You can give me one more, right princess?” He looks like something straight out of a porno, mouth covered in you, hair messy between your fingers, how could you possibly resist such a sight, especially when his finger runs up and down your entrance teasingly.

“Please” is all you have to say before he disappears once more between your legs. His fingers start to stretch out your walls, tongue lapping up any juices that escape. The pounding of his fingers inside you drag you close to the edge faster than before, and when his fingers graze one spot you’re seeing stars.

“There, right there fuck Cheol please–” your words get cut off by a breathy moan as he sucks on your clit, vision going blurry as you come on his fingers. When you’re coming down from the high, you watch as he takes said fingers and licks them clean with a groan, “You might just be my new favorite meal, princess.”

Your eyes roll at the comments as you shakily climb to your knees, earning a raised eyebrow from Cheol as you grab his shirt to pull him towards you, “You’re looking way too clothed to be saying that right now.” You mutter, making quick work of his buttons. His laugh turns into a groan when you press a kiss to his neck, sliding his shirt off of him and running your hands across the expanse of his torso. His muscles are firm and defined, and you don’t resist the urge to bend over and softly bite his chest, reveling in the choked sound he makes. His hands grab your head, pulling you into a wet kiss as you pull at his pants and boxers, sliding them down his legs to free his hard cock. As you look at it, you find yourself at a loss for words, long, thick, deliciously curved, this man will be the end of you. 

Nothing could’ve prepared you for the first taste of his precum as you envelop his head between your lips. A whimper escapes you, and Seungcheol hisses when you run your tongue along the slit, his hands gripping the back of your neck tightly. “Fuck, princess. Thought about your mouth so many times, but never imagined it’d feel this good,” he thrusts his hips up, causing your movements to stutter as you gag. “You can take a bit more, yeah?” his question ends with a groan, his fingers tightening on your hair. 

You lower your head further in response, taking in another more of him. His hand on your nape encourages you to move faster, and you swallow around him, eyes fluttering open when he tugs sharply at your hair.

“Fuck, just like that baby, want you to choke on it,” his voice is gravely and low, the sound going straight to your core. The tip of his cock hits the back of your throat and your eyes start to water. You pull away to catch your breath, still stroking him as you regain composure.

“Fuck my throat,” you beg ask, “Please”

A smile dangles on the corner of his lips as he guides himself into your mouth, smirking at how your eyes roll back in pleasure. “Well since you asked so nicely.”

You whimper around him, losing your sanity with each thrust of his hips, every tug at your hair. Suddenly he pulls you off his cock, cradling your face, “You fucking love that, don’t you?” he asks with a sweet, syrupy voice, brushing away your tears. There’s no room left for embarrassment, so you nod, closing your mouth around his thumb. He crashes his lips to yours in response before pulling away suddenly.

His eyes widen as he looks around, suddenly looking frantic, “Shit, condoms. Stay here, I’ll quickly get dressed and run to my–”

“Are you clean?”

Seungcheol’s eyes go wide at your suggestion before slowly nodding, “I got tested last month, you’re not suggesting…” His voice trails off.

Have you ever let anyone hit it raw? Absolutely not. Did you have the patience for him to go to his apartment and grab condoms? Also absolutely not.

“I’m on birth control, clean, and way too fucking horny for you to be anywhere except inside me.” You state blankly. He shakes his head in astonishment before climbing on top of you, kissing you once more. 

“God, you’re perfect.” he sighs, lining himself up with your wet entrance. He looks at you one more time for approval. “Ready?”

“Please— Fuck!” you nearly scream as his head slides inside you, eyes squeezing shut. Turns out his fingers weren’t enough. His arms shake where they rest on each side of your head, seemingly as affected as you are. He barely pulls out before fucking into you with a little more force.  “Shit, you’re so tight, fuck.”

“Cheol please,” you gasp, not quite sure what you're asking for when you latch onto his back, holding him close to you. His thrusts gain strength, and suddenly he’s bottoming inside you. You’ve never felt this full in your life as Seungcheol waits for you to adjust, pussy spasming around him in ways that make his eyes roll back. When you give him the okay he pulls out slowly, so you can feel every vein as it drags on your walls before he fucks back into you.

His pace starts to get faster and the sounds from both of you sound straight from a porno, but you don’t care because all you can think about is how good his dick feels inside you, how full you feel. From this position, you can see the way his face contorts in pleasure, brows furrowed and bottom lip pulled between his teeth. Lowering his head to envelop one of your nipples between his lips and sucks hard. “Fuck princess, you’re so perfect shit– pretty pussy made for me, huh?”

“For you,” you pant, thoughts reduced to just the feeling of him inside you. “All for you Cheol.”

His mouth curves into a soft smile as he drives into you again, this time even deeper. Each thrust has you gasping, your body arching off the bed to meet his. Seugcheol’s hand slides down to grasp your hip, squeezing the soft skin and pulling you harder against him, impossibly closer. 

“You’re perfect princess, my perfect pretty baby,” he slips his free hand between your bodies to find your clit, and the moment his fingers make contact with it, you can’t help but whine. “So fuckin’ perfect,” he repeats, more to himself than to you, voice strained as he tries to hold himself back, chasing your release before his own.

The pressure inside you builds up, tightening, and you’re sure you look like a mess, sweaty and sticky, but the way he looks at you makes you forget everything else. “Cheol, I’m—” 

He picks up speed, snapping his hips faster. “I’ve got you baby, let go for me. I’ll take care of you,” his pace becomes erratic, digging his fingers into the softness of your thighs as the headboard keeps slamming against the wall (thank god his room is the only one next to yours). Your body obeys him, a gast tearing through you as you moan Seungcheols name like a prayer. “That’s it, fuck, that’s it,” he doesn’t stop, fucking you through your orgasm. His eyes snap to your face, his expression as wrecked as you feel. “Tell me where—.”

“Inside.”

“Shit, are you sure?”

“Fill me up Cheol, please. Want it so bad.”

He’s not strong enough to deny you such a thing. He buries himself inside you, groaning your name as his cock twitches and paints your walls. He ruts against you, his body trembling against yours before he collapses beside you, pulling you into his arms and kissing you gently. You almost cry when he slips out of you, hating the feeling of being empty as he finds your bathroom and returns with a towel to clean you up, eventually lulling you to sleep.

—

The first thing you register when you wake up is warmth— you soft sheets tangled around your limbs, the lingering scent of cologne woven into the fabric. The second thing is weight, the steady rise and fall of a chest beneath your cheek, an arm draped around your waist, fingers splayed possessively over your hip.

Your eyes flutter open, and for a moment, you’re disoriented. The golden morning light filters through the curtains, casting lazy patterns across the room, but it takes another second for reality to catch up.

Seungcheol.

His presence is unmistakable, the solid warmth of him anchoring you even before you tilt your head up to look at him. His face is relaxed in sleep, soft in a way you don’t think you’ve seen before. His lashes rest against his cheeks, lips slightly parted, one hand still gripping your waist as if unconsciously keeping you close .

You take a slow breath, careful not to wake him just yet, allowing yourself the luxury of watching him like this. The confidence he always carries, the sharp smirks and teasing remarks—none of it is present in this moment. Right now, he’s just Seungcheol.

Your fingers move instinctively, tracing the curve of his nose, the contour of his lips. His grip on your waist tightens slightly in response, and you hear the low, raspy sound of his voice.

“Mmm.” A deep inhale, then a groggy mumble. “It’s too early.”

You laugh softly, then for a moment, there’s nothing but the sound of your breathing, the quiet of the morning stretching between you. His fingers skim along your spine absentmindedly, tracing patterns into your skin. It’s dangerously intimate, this kind of quiet closeness, and you find yourself holding your breath as you wait for him to say something.

When he finally does, his voice is softer than before. “Did you sleep well?”

You nod against him. “Yeah. You?”

His thumb brushes over your hip, slow and deliberate. “Best sleep I’ve had in a while.”

There’s something unspoken in his words, something that lingers between the two of you, but neither of you address it. Not yet. Instead, you stay like this for a while longer, wrapped in each other. Eventually, though, reality has to creep back in. You sigh, shifting slightly. “We should probably get up.”

Seungcheol groans dramatically, pulling you tighter against him. “Or we could just stay like this.”

You laugh, pushing at his chest again, this time with more force. “You have things to do, and I—”

“—have to stay here and cuddle me,” he finishes smoothly, peeking one eye open again and giving you a peck on the lips. “Sounds like the perfect plan, right?”

You roll your eyes but don’t immediately pull away, allowing yourself one more stolen moment of peace before finally sitting up. Seungcheol watches you, his gaze heavy-lidded, filled with something you can’t quite name. Then, just as you’re about to move off the bed, his hand catches your wrist, stopping you.

You glance back at him, and his expression is unreadable for a beat before he smirks, tugging you down just enough to brush his lips against yours.

“Morning,” he murmurs, and it feels dangerously close to something more.

You swallow, the weight of the moment settling over you, but instead of overthinking it, you smile. “Morning.”

—

A week later you find yourself lying in the same bed, missing the man who had laid with you. The two of you haven’t seen each other since—your schedules never quite aligning—but the texts haven’t stopped. If anything, they’ve only gotten more frequent and flirtatious.

Cheol: You avoiding me or just giving me time to miss you? You: Are those the only options? Cheol: Unless you’d rather admit you can’t stop thinking about me. You: You’re so full of yourself. Cheol: And you love it.

You hate how much you do love it.

You turn and nearly walk into two people standing in the hallway.

“Whoa—careful,” a deep voice says as a steady hand catches your elbow.

It’s Seungcheol. Of course, it’s Seungcheol. He’s standing in front of you, that familiar grin spreading across his face. Standing next to him is a man you instantly recognize—Wonwoo. His calm, sharp features are exactly as you remember, though he seems a little more refined since college. You school your expression, feigning polite curiosity.

“Hey,” you manage, adjusting your grip on the bag.

“Hey yourself,” Seungcheol says, his grin widening. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Uh, I live here,” you reply, trying to keep your tone light despite the sudden thumping in your chest.

Wonwoo clears his throat, glancing between the two of you. “Cheol, are you going to introduce me, or should I do it myself?”

“Right.” Seungcheol gestures toward him. “This is Wonwoo—friend, buddy, compadre, if you will, and frequent pain in my ass. Wonwoo, this is…” He pauses, “Her.”

Wonwoo raises an eyebrow but extends a hand to you. “Nice to meet you, ‘Her.’ Or, nice to see you again, I guess.”

You laugh, shaking his hand. “Nice to see you too. I’d remind you of my real name, but apparently Seungcheol forgot it.”

“Hardly, you’re the only thing he’s been talking about recently. You were friends with Kwan’, right? I think I crashed your study sessions a few times.”

The mention of Seungkwan brings a smile to your face, he’s now roommates with Jeonghan, even though he’s grown so much since you first met him the younger boy will always have a special place in your heart, “Yeah probably, he always had someone tagging along with him. That kid was a real social butterfly.” Wonwoo opens his mouth to respond but Seungcheol cuts him off.

“Yeah, great, glad you guys are close.” Seungcheol crosses his arms over his chest, tilting his head as he studies you. ”Small world and such.”

Your stomach twists slightly, but you keep your expression neutral. “Yeah, crazy coincidence. It’s almost like we went to the same school.” you say sarcastically, “So, what games will you be playing today?” 

Seungcheol narrows his eyes at you, “Who said anything about playing games?”

You swear your heart stops at that moment.

“Oh-uh,” Think, think, think, “Well the walls don’t do a very good job at masking your swearing at night, just assumed that’s what was going on.” 

Wonwoo, ever the observant one, stays quiet, but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—like he’s connecting dots that you’d rather he didn’t.

“Sure,” Seungcheol responds, still watching you closely. “Anyways, we should get going.”

You nod, stepping back toward your door. “Yeah, it was nice seeing you both. I should put these away before they melt.”

“Uh huh,” Seungcheol mutters, stepping aside. Wonwoo simply nods politely, his expression calm but unreadable.

Once inside your apartment, you set the groceries down with a sigh, your mind racing. You didn’t slip up that bad, right? At least you had covered your mistake pretty well? Still, there was something about the way Seungcheol looked at you– like he was trying to piece together a puzzle– that left a sinking feeling in your stomach.

—

Another few days pass before you hear from Seungcheol outside of the usual teasing texts. You’re curled up on your couch when your phone buzzes.

Cheol: So, are you going to keep eavesdropping through the walls, or are you finally going to come over and play?

You roll your eyes but can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips.

You: Who says I want to play?

Cheol: You wound me. But fine, if you’re too scared to lose, I understand.

You: Oh, please. Like you could actually beat me at anything.

Cheol: Prove it. Tonight. My place.

You hesitate for a moment. It’s one thing to comment on him playing games, but actually playing with him? You can’t be sure you won’t slip up again. But then again, you can’t let him think you’re scared.

You: Fine. What time?

Cheol: 8. Wonwoo will be there. And a few others. Don’t be late.

You stare at your screen for a moment before shaking your head. There’s no way this is a good idea, but you’re already getting up to change.

—

At 8:03, you knock on Seungcheol’s door. He opens it almost immediately, as if he had been waiting for you.

“You’re late,” he says, pouting slightly.

“It’s literally been three minutes, you big baby.”

“Three minutes too long.” He steps aside, letting you in. “Come on, the others are already here.”

His apartment is warm and filled with an easy kind of chaos. Wonwoo is lounging on the couch, a controller in hand, looking perfectly unbothered as he glances up at you. “She showed.”

“She did,” Seungcheol confirms, closing the door behind you.

At the other end of the room, four other guys are gathered, already deep into conversation. Seungcheol gestures toward them. “These are the guys. That’s Jihoon—" he points to the one sitting cross-legged on the floor, focused on a laptop. Jihoon barely glances up, offering only a short nod. “Vernon—” the boy next to Jihoon gives a small wave, expression relaxed. “Mingyu—” the tall one grins and throws an arm around Seungcheol’s shoulder. “And Soonyoung.”

Soonyoung—who you recognize from random campus events back in college—immediately brightens. “Wait, I know you! You were friends with Seungkwan, right?”

You laugh, nodding. “Yeah, that was me.”

“Small world, huh?”

Seungcheol claps his hands together. “Alright, now that introductions are out of the way, let’s get down to business.”

“Games,” Mingyu supplies helpfully.

“Winning,” Seungcheol corrects, looking directly at you.

You raise an eyebrow. “You wish.”

He grins. “We’ll see.”

—

The first game is an intense round of Mario Kart, and to no one’s surprise, Wonwoo dominates. “You guys suck,” he mutters as he crosses the finish line first yet again (as if you and Seungcheol weren’t on his tail the whole time).

“Okay, okay,” Seungcheol says, waving a hand. “Let’s switch it up. How about teams?”

You find yourself paired with Jihoon, who simply shrugs. “You ready?”

You smirk. “Let’s kick some ass.”

“Hell yeah.”

The match starts, and it’s immediately clear that Seungcheol is more competitive than he let on. The room is filled with laughter, shouts of victory, and groans of defeat. Soonyoung nearly falls off the couch at one point, yelling dramatically when your car pulls ahead of him.

Through it all, you feel yourself relaxing, the nervous energy from earlier fading away. When you glance at Seungcheol, he’s already watching you, his expression unreadable for a moment before he grins again.

—

As the night stretches on, the games gradually give way to easy conversation and laughter, drinks appearing in everyone's hands. Mingyu pours shots for everyone, insisting on a toast to new friends, while Soonyoung—already a little tipsy—challenges Jihoon to a battle of wits (which mostly consists of Jihoon sighing heavily while Soonyoung rambles on).

You find yourself nestled into the couch, comfortably warm from the drinks, the buzz of conversation wrapping around you. Seungcheol drops down next to you, draping an arm along the back of the couch. “Having fun?” he asks, a teasing lilt to his voice.

You let out a quiet laugh. “Guess you’re not as unbearable as I thought.”

“High praise.” He grins, taking a sip from his glass.

Eventually, the night winds down, one by one, the others heading out or claiming their spots to crash for the night. You stretch, standing up to grab your things. Seungcheol watches you with an amused glint in his eyes. “Need someone to walk you home?”

You raise an eyebrow, a huffed laugh leaving you. “What, for the whole two feet I need to walk?”

“Exactly,” he says, standing up and smirking. “Wouldn’t want anything to happen to you in the five steps it takes to get there.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s a smile tugging at your lips as he walks you to your door anyways. As you turn the key to your apartment, you look back at him, maybe it’s the alcohol in your system, or maybe it’s the confidence from meeting his friends that has you leaning up to place a soft kiss on his lips, “Goodnight, gamer boy.”

You realize your mistake the next morning, hoping he didn’t.

—

Still, life goes on, months pass by with you and Seungcheol seeing each other but never giving what you have a label. Your affection for the man starts to pile more by the day along with your guilt, feeling as if you’re betraying him with every brush of your skin on his. Tonight you’re curled up comfortably by his side, his TV playing some rom-com in the background as the two of you feast on fried chicken and soju, a perfect evening. You don’t know when your conversation became talking about your childhood, but you don’t care as Seungcheol tells you a story of the messes he got into with his older brother.

“You’ve always been a trouble-maker haven’t you?” you exclaim, kissing the tip of his nose. He giggles, humming in response and you admire the way it makes his face light up, warming your heart. Everything is so perfect, the way his arms wrap around you, the way the alcohol makes your brain slightly fuzzy. How he presses kisses all over your face as you laugh, finally getting a real kiss pressed to your lips as he lays you down on his couch. Sweet, gentle, and full of an emotion you don’t want to name. When he pulls back the same emotion fills his eyes.

“I really like you, you know?” he says shyly. You nod in response, smiling up at him. “We should make things official then, yeah?” You’re about to nod when the guilt you’ve been suppressing comes back stronger than ever, “I- I’m sorry.” You tell him. Before he can question you further, you stand up, rathering your stuff, “I’m really sorry Cheol.” You say once again before leaving his apartment, too drunk and too scared to face him.

The next day, as much as you try to avoid him, you run into Seungcheol in the hallway and he stops you. His teeth worry at his bottom lip, brow furrowed, “We need to talk about last night. Did I do something? I thought we– I thought things were going well but– just.. Tell me what I can do. Please?”

His words shatter any resolve you had to keep things from him.

“I know you stream.” the words fall from your mouth and make the man in front of you go ridged, “I mean, I’ve watched you a few times– more than a few– I found you a few months before you moved in and didn’t really know what to do.” You wring your hands together, too nervous to look him in the eye.

A few moments pass before he replies, “So what, you just planned on never telling me? Even after we started hanging out? After we… after everything?” His voice sounds defeated, broken. You shake your head but no sound comes out of your mouth. What could you say? Had you ever planned on telling him? You never knew things would get this far, if you did would you have told him sooner. You can feel Seungcheols heavy gaze on you, prompting you to speak, “I— I don’t know Cheol. I’m really sorry I just- I don’t know.”

He nods in response, and you can practically feel your heart drop, “Give me some time.” Is all he says before walking away, leaving you feeling empty.

Another week passes without a word from Seungcheol. Then another. Guilt is eating you from the inside, you don’t know what Seungcheol is thinking, if he’ll ever talk to you again. You can’t say you’d blame him if he didn’t. Once again at work you start slipping up, eventually Minghao decides that enough is enough. 

“Spill, now.” He says when you take your usual seat across from him. You try to convince him to wait until Jeonghan arrives but he’s firm in his insistence.

“Tell me what's going on, from the beginning. No lies, no excuses, no ‘I’ll figure it out on my own’ bullshit.” And so you do. You start from the beginning, Jeonghan's recommendation, the comfort it had brought you until your new neighbor appeared, the dates, the late-nights, the avoidance. You spill your guts out and Minghao listens. When you finish your tangent he just shakes his head.

“I know I’m an idiot Hao, but what was I supposed to do?” You defend yourself, from what exactly, you aren’t sure. Your throat starts to tighten and Minghao places his hand atop yours on the table, “Hey, it’s going to be okay. You’re overthinking it.” He talks the panic out of you like he has so many times before, guides your breathing and soothes your nerves.

“Just because you’re an idiot doesn’t mean you can’t fix things.” His statement makes you laugh, his hand squeezing yours reassuringly. “Trust me, I’m sure you and your little gamer boy can work things out. Just tell him the truth, the same way you just told it to me.” You nod in response. The rest of the break the two of you talk like you always do, laughing and jabbing your coworkers as Minghao just rolls his eyes at you. 

“Y/n?”

Your name from across the room breaks the comfortable bubble you’d been in with your friend. Seungcheol stands a few feet away from your table, betrayal evident in his eyes. You stand up to go towards him, but his scoff makes you stop in your tracks. He turns on his heel and walks out.

“What are you doing? Go after him, dumbass.” Broken out of your trance you hurry out the door, ignoring how the cold wind bites at your skin, your jacket left behind you. Seungcheol’s back is towards you as you chase after him, grabbing his arm and forcing him to face you.

“Wait a second, I-” 

You’re cut off when he yanks his arm from your grip. Your chest aches when you see the look in his eyes. It’s unfamiliar, the face of the man you once found comfort in contorted into something else, something that scared you.

“Don’t start with me Y/n,” his tone is harsh, cutting through the cold air straight into your chest, “I trusted you, you know that? I really trusted you, I thought- it doesn’t even matter because you turned out to be the same as everyone else. This is all, what, some sort of twisted game? You wanted to get into my life and have a piece of me like every other crazy bitch that watches me, right? Well congradu-fucking-lations, you win. Your sick game is over now.” His eyes looked at you, filled with anger, betrayal, hatred, “And to think, after I started to believe that maybe, just maybe you had a reason to lie to me, that you actually cared about me, I see you with another guy. You can’t even go one week without finding a new boy-toy to play with, can you? You’re just another attention-seeking whore.” 

His words hit you like a slap in the face. Here you are, freezing your ass off to try and explain yourself all for what? Finally all the emotions that have been boiling under the surface start to bubble over, “Excuse me?” Your voice comes out dangerously calm, seemingly stopping Seungcheol’s next sentence. 

“First of all,” you clarify, “you’re the one who moved in next to me, let's not get things twisted. And yeah, I didn’t tell you I knew who you were, you wanna know why? Because the first time I saw you it looked like you were about to have a nervous breakdown because I recognized you. Of fucking course I said I knew you from college, I wasn’t about to make you more uncomfortable than you already were! I haven’t watched a single video since that day out of respect for you and your privacy. You are the one who kept talking to me, you are the one who asked me out, you are the one who kept doing things that would make it impossible for me to not start falling for you. A whore? I’ve been so worried about you that I make stupid mistakes in the simplest fucking tasks at work and my coworkers started to get worried, my friends started to get worried. So I finally tell them what's going on and when they convince me to come clean and explain everything to you, you decide to jump to conclusions. You can say whatever you want, Choi Seungcheol, but don’t you dare think for a second that I don’t care about you.” Hot tears stream down your face, but you don’t care, the words come pouring out from you, and you watch as Seungcheols expression morphs from anger, looking away before you can see what it turns into. His hand reaches out for yours but you pull away, not looking at him because you know if you do it’ll change your mind. “I hope you can find an attention-seeking whore to play with Seungcheol because I can’t do this. Not anymore.”

When you return to the cafe, Minghao doesn’t scold you for letting your emotions control you, offering instead to cover for you so you could go home but you refuse. Because what is home, you think, without Seungcheol. 

You stay at Jeonghans for the next few days, calling out sick from work to instead watch dramas with Seungkwan. He doesn’t question your sudden appearance, nor the tears that fall whenever the drama leads would interact, which you’re thankful for. He gives you a steady shoulder to cry on and a reliable source of laughter to cheer you up. The two of you are currently huddled under a blanket, watching as Ryan Gosling and Rachel McAdams run towards each other in the rain. Your hands are holding his tightly under the blanket as you both squeal when they kiss. When the movie ends tears stream down both of your faces and Seungkwan bumps your shoulder lightly, “Whatever you’re going through must be serious, you never cry during The Notebook.” 

You roll your eyes at his statement, laughing along with him as you turn the T.V. off. He turns to face you, suddenly serious and you know what's coming.

“You’re not kicking me out, are you?” The smile accompanying your joke doesn’t quite reach your eyes, and Seungkwan notices with a sigh.

“You know I would never, but you also know you can’t avoid going back forever. Eventually you’ll need to go back to your apartment.” He gives a pointed look at your too-big hoodie and sweats courtesy of Jeonghan. “Listen Y/n, you know I love you but–”

“I know Kwan’, I know. I’m just scared. Even if I know you’re right. I don’t think I’m ready to face him yet.” You cut him off, tears welling in your eyes once more. Seungkwan clasps your hands in his.

“Remember my senior year when I had a mental breakdown and called you at ass-O’-clock in the morning?” You nod, the memory vague but there. He continues, “I went over to your house and told you I was scared, that suddenly everything felt so real with job applications, interviews, and graduation getting closer. I didn’t know what to do, I wasn’t ready to be an adult yet and suddenly life was being shoved in my face and I didn’t know how to cope. Do you remember what you said to me?” A small smile forms on your face among the tears, Seungkwan giving you a reassuring one in response.

 “There are some things you’ll never be ready for, but the clock still ticks and the Earth still spins, no matter how terrified you are. You just have to do it scared.” 

You recite the words with him, words your parents had told you when you were eighteen and unprepared for college life, words you lived by since then, that had gotten you through your darkest times and happiest moments. Words that you had somehow lost in the chaos of adulting. 

You wipe your face on your sleeve, small laughs replacing your sobs as you look at your lap, “Thanks Kwan.” 

You don’t need to say anything else, he knows, like he always does. Like all of your friends always do because at the end of the day no matter how tough things get you will always have an amazing support system full of amazing friends. No man could change that, no amount of distance could break the bond your little entourage have. Because they, you realize, are home.

Seungkwan wraps you in a warm embrace as you tear up some more, not sad this time. The two of you rock back and forth for a while before pulling away and making eye contact. 

“Tomorrow?”

“Can’t we wait until the weekend?”

“Fine, you stubborn pain in the ass. Saturday. Morning.”

You groan in response but don’t bother to hide the smile on your lips.

—

Saturday morning comes faster than you’d like. The moment your eyes flutter open, reality crashes into you like a wave, heavy and unrelenting. For a fleeting moment, you consider burying yourself deeper into the blankets, pretending that you could stay in Jeonghan’s guest room forever. But Seungkwan’s words from the night before echo in your mind. You just have to do it scared.

With a deep breath, you push yourself out of bed. Jeonghan is already in the kitchen, sipping his coffee with an all-knowing smirk when you walk in. "So, today’s the big day, huh?"

You roll your eyes, reaching for the mug he’s already set out for you. “You act like I’m about to get married.”

“Considering the dramatics, it might as well be.”

You groan, dropping your head onto the counter. “Can you not?”

Jeonghan chuckles, patting the top of your head before walking away. “Just rip the bandaid off, Y/n. You’ll feel better once you do.”

You’re not sure about that, but you know he’s right.

By the time you reach your apartment complex, your heart is pounding so loudly that you can hear it in your ears. The familiar hallway feels foreign, your feet carrying you toward your door on autopilot. You turn the key in your apartment door, the familiar creak of the hinges sounding louder than usual in the quiet hallway. The space is just as you left it—dim, still, and eerily empty. It feels foreign, like you don’t quite belong here anymore. Maybe because, for the past few days, you didn’t. With a heavy sigh, you drop your bag by the door and toe off your shoes, making your way to the couch. The exhaustion from carrying the weight of everything settles into your bones. You lean back, eyes fluttering shut, trying to steady your breathing.

It takes a few days for you to settle back into your apartment. At first, everything feels too quiet. You find yourself reaching for your phone to text Seungcheol before remembering the way things ended. You distract yourself with work, with cleaning, with anything to keep your mind from wandering to the ache in your chest. But no matter how much you try to push it down, it lingers.

—

You haven’t seen him since that night. You don’t expect to. Instead you go back to how things had been before he moved in, ignoring the ache in your chest whenever you hear him through your thin apartment walls. 

Some nights, you lie awake, staring at the photo you had taken with him on your first date, wishing to go back in time. You listen to the faint sounds of his life bleeding through the walls, wondering if he does the same, or if he threw the picture away all together. The murmur of his voice on the phone, the clink of dishes in the sink, the low hum of his TV. It’s almost cruel how easily he seems to slip back into routine while you feel like you’re unraveling. You tell yourself it doesn’t matter. That you’ll get used to it. But the silence in your own apartment is deafening, and the space he left behind feels colder than it should.

You start wearing headphones more often. It helps, a little. Drowns out the ghost of his presence. Keeps you from wondering if he ever pauses, mid-conversation, mid-laugh, mid-breath, thinking about you. You don’t let yourself hope.

But late one night, when you’re standing at your sink rinsing out a mug, you hear it—your name. Soft, hesitant. Muffled by the wall but unmistakable. Your breath catches, fingers tightening around the ceramic. You wait, straining to hear more. A part of you wants to move closer, to press your ear against the wall, to pretend that he’s just on the other side, that nothing has changed. But then you hear footsteps, the creak of his door opening.

And then nothing.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. You tell yourself it was nothing.

But you don’t wear your headphones that night.

—

The next morning, you wake up with the imprint of your phone against your cheek, the playlist you put on last night long finished. Your first thought is that you dreamed it—his voice, his hesitation. That your mind is just playing tricks on you because it wants so badly to believe he still thinks about you.

But then, as you move through your morning routine, you catch yourself hesitating near the front door. You don’t know why. Maybe it’s the weight in your chest, the feeling of stepping into the world once again without him waiting to greet you. You push the feelings aside.

When you finally open the door, you nearly step on something– small and familiar, sitting right in the center of your doorstep.

Your scarf.

You freeze. Your fingers twitch at your sides.

The scarf you’d left at his place weeks ago, back when you still had a place there too. It’s neatly folded, like he took care with it, but there’s no note, no explanation. Just the scarf. You swallow hard, your fingers tightening around the fabric as you pick it up. It still smells like his apartment, like the faint trace of his cologne, like something that used to feel like home.

You stand there too long, cold air slipping into your apartment through the open door, numbing your fingers, your face. Your mind races with all the possibilities—did he find it by accident? Did he mean to leave it for you himself? Did he hesitate, just like you are now?

You don’t know what to do with it.

So you do what you always do—you tuck it away, shove it into the depths of your closet like you can bury the feelings that come with it.

But that night, when you curl into bed, your hand drifts toward the closet door. Before you can stop yourself, you pull the scarf back out. Hold it in your lap. Press it between your fingers. Like maybe, if you close your eyes, you can pretend—for just a little while—that you never had lied to him in the first place.

—

The scarf stays on your nightstand after that. You don’t wear it. You don’t even move it. But you don’t put it back in the closet, either.

It’s stupid, you tell yourself. It’s just fabric. Just something that happened to be left behind. He probably didn’t think twice about it. He was just returning something that wasn’t his, nothing more.

You keep going to work, settling disputes with coworkers who seem to have nothing better to do than fight (you ignore the way you almost reach for your phone to listen to Seungcheols voice as you work).

You keep meeting Jeonghan and Minghao on Wednesdays, occasionally Seungkwan joins the three of you (you ignore the way they glance at you with pity).

Everything is where it’s supposed to be (you ignore how everything you do feels like it’s missing something).

It’s late, and you’re lying in bed, not really asleep, not really awake. The walls between your apartments have always been thin—thin enough that sometimes you can catch pieces of his voice, low and tired, when he’s on the phone late at night.

But this time, there’s no conversation. Just footsteps. The sound of a drawer opening, then closing. A pause. And then, so quiet you almost miss it—your name.

Your stomach twists.

You tell yourself it was just in your imagination, don’t let yourself dwell on why he might have said that because he didn’t (you ignore how you know that’s a lie).

The next morning, you wake up feeling like you never really slept at all. Your body is heavy, your mind clouded with something you don’t want to name. You go about your day like normal—like nothing happened. Like you didn’t hear him say your name. Like it didn’t send a crack through the carefully constructed distance you’ve been trying to build.

But it lingers.

You don’t mean to, but you start listening to him more. Not on purpose—at least, that’s what you tell yourself—but your ears tune in anyway. You notice the little things: the way he moves around his apartment, the late nights he stays up, the mornings he leaves just a little later than he used to.

And then one evening, when you step out of your apartment to grab something from the corner store, you nearly run into him.

You freeze.

So does he.

For a moment, neither of you speak. He looks… tired. Like he hasn’t been sleeping well either. Like maybe he’s been feeling the same weight pressing down on him. Your throat is tight. You should say something. You should walk away.

But then his gaze flickers, just briefly, to your door. To you.

When he starts to turn around Seungkwan’s reminder rings in your head.

Do it scared. 

And before you can stop yourself, before you can think better of it, his name slips past your lips, “Seungcheol.”

His breath catches.

You take a deep breath to steady yourself, “We should talk.”

Seungcheol freezes, hand hovering above his door knob for a second before dropping to his side. When he looks up at you his eyes are full of so many emotions it makes your heart ache; shame, regret, hurt, hesitation. It almost makes you change your mind, but then you see it, the tiniest sliver of hope behind his gaze, that helps you keep going, inviting him into your apartment. He hesitates before entering, you walk in after him, closing the door.

Seungcheol doesn’t sit, so you don’t either. Instead, you stand near the couch, gripping your hands together to keep them from shaking. It’s silent for a moment, you aren’t used to his presence anymore.

“I meant what I said before,” you begin hesitantly. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

His gaze flickers with something unreadable. He responds softly, voice sounding almost broken, “Then why didn’t you just tell me?”

You exhale, the numbed frustration and regret rising again in your chest. “At first I thought it wasn’t important, you were just my neighbor, and you looked nervous when we first met so I figured you’d rather stay anonymous. But then we started to get to know each other and suddenly I was keeping a huge secret and I didn’t know what to do. I-,” You take a deep breath to calm yourself down and stop your rambling, “I was scared. I didn’t want to ruin whatever this was—whatever we were. I thought if I told you the truth, you’d push me away.” You let out a small, humorless laugh. “Looks like I managed to do that anyway.”

Seungcheol sighs, rubbing his hands over his face. “You should’ve given me the chance to decide how I felt about it instead of lying to me.”

You nod slowly, the weight of his words pressing down on your chest. “I know,” you whisper. “I should’ve told you the truth. I should have done so many things differently, but I didn’t, and I hurt you.” You take a shaky breath, forcing yourself to meet his eyes even though it makes your stomach twist. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Seungcheol looks at you, nodding, “Me too. For what I said.”

“Don’t worry, I get it, you had every right to be mad.” You protest. 

He flinches, shaking his head. “Not like that.” His hands ball into fists at his sides before he sighs, running one through his hair. “Yeah, you should have told me. And yeah, it hurt. But what I said to you?” His jaw clenches. “That wasn’t fair. You didn’t deserve that.” His voice is thick with guilt, his brows furrowed in frustration—at himself, not at you as he looks away. “Did you- when we would be together who were you thinking of?”

You tilt your head in confusion, so he elaborates, “I guess what I’m asking is if you just thought of me as S.coups, if you thought it was just another game.” When he meets your gaze once more it’s as if all the confidence was drained from him, he looked unsure, raw vulnerability in the way he bites his lip and wrings his hands together. 

“It was never a game, not for me at least. To me you’ve always been Seungcheol, even when you first moved in, I didn’t really think about your job other than being worried that I would make you uncomfortable by knowing. Even when I’d watch you play, when you were having fun you were Seungcheol playing games like you used to during class. On days you didn’t seem as into it you were Seungcheol doing your job.”

You hear Seungcheol inhale sharply as you continue, “Back then and now you mean so much to me, I never meant to hurt you, but I did. And I don’t expect you to forgive me just because I apologized. If you still hate me that fi–”

You’re cut off by lips on yours, gentle and nervous until you kiss back. After so long it feels like the world finally clicks into place, a hand sliding into yours gently as your tears mix with his.

When you separate Seungcheol’s hand grips yours tightly, eyes still closed as if he’s scared you’ll be gone when he opens them. “I don’t hate you, Y/n.” His voice is softer now, barely a whisper. “I never did.” This time you lean into him, pressing your lips together once more. His free hand moves to cradle your face, yours lightly gripping the front of his shirt. Muttered ‘I missed you’s are scattered between kisses as you make your way to the couch, placing yourself on Seungcheol’s lap when he sits. Neither of you can help the tears on your faces. 

After who-knows-how-long you’re still in Seungcheol’s embrace, his strong arms wrapped around you, drawing slow patterns on your back as the two of you sway back and forth gently. His heartbeat is steady beneath your ear, a quiet rhythm that makes you feel like you can finally breathe easy. You don’t know how long you sit there, tangled together on your couch, his arms around you like he’s afraid you’ll slip away if he lets go. Maybe he is. Maybe you are too.

“Thank you. For coming back.” Seungcheol murmurs into your hair. His voice is soft, careful, like he’s afraid of saying too much, of pushing too hard.

You shift slightly, just enough to look up at him. His eyes are still damp, lashes clumped together, and the sight of it twists something in your chest. “Always,” you whisper. “I’ll be here as long as you still want me.”

His breath shudders as he exhales. “I do.” He presses his forehead against yours, voice thick with emotion. “Always did, always will.”

You close your eyes, soaking in the warmth of him, the weight of his hands resting at your waist, grounding you. “No more hiding. No more running.” you say softly.

Seungcheol nods, his grip tightening like he’s holding onto something fragile. “No more running,” he agrees. For a while, neither of you speak. You just exist in the quiet, in the warmth of each other, letting the weight of everything settle. Eventually, Seungcheol chuckles, breath fanning against your cheek. “I don’t want to move,” he admits.

You smile, brushing your thumb against his cheek. “Then don’t.”

His lips twitch into a grin. “You’ll let me stay?”

You pretend to consider it, tilting your head. “Depends. Are you planning on stealing all the blankets again?”

Seungcheol laughs, the sound vibrating against your skin. “No promises.”

You sigh dramatically. “I suppose I’ll allow it.”

His arms tighten around you, his lips pressing a soft, lingering kiss to yours. “Good,” he murmurs. “Because I don’t think I can let go just yet.”

Neither do you.

—

“You ready to lose again?” Seungcheol asks, raising an eyebrow, the usual playful confidence in his voice.

You roll your eyes, scoffing. “In your dreams, Cheol.”

It’s silly, how normal it is, how easy it was to slip into the rhythm of this again. Your friends around you in his apartment, all laughing and having fun.

"Hoshi, I’m going to kick your ass!" Seungkwan yells from across the room, his voice high-pitched with mock frustration.

"You've got a lot of nerve talking, considering you're in last place," Soonyoung teases back, his grin wide and infectious.

"I can’t believe we’re playing this game again," Mingyu groans dramatically, even though he’s clearly enjoying himself despite the complaints.

"You’re just mad because I hit you with a shell. Like this," Jihoon shoots another shell at Mingyu’s cart, the corner of his lips curving upward as he hears Mingyu’s swears.

Seungcheol laughs, his usual confidence shining through as he skillfully handles his character. Every now and then, his hand would brush yours, and in those moments, it felt like time had slowed just enough for you to savor the simple joy of being surrounded by friends—by family.

"You’re about to lose!" Jeonghan said, voice full of amusement as he leaned over to look at the screen.

Seungcheol shot him a mock glare. "You’re not even playing."

But despite the teasing, the tension was long gone. No more waiting for the right moment to speak, no more hiding. It isn’t perfect—nothing ever is—but it's real. And that's enough.

You lean back against the couch, your head resting against Seungcheol’s shoulder as you pull into fourth place with a groan.

Seungcheol leans in, nudging your shoulder lightly with his. “So, when do you plan on winning?” he teases, his grin wider than before.

You glare at him, but the corners of your mouth betray you, lifting into a smile you can’t fight. “I’ll win when I’m good and ready, it’s not my fault my boyfriend is a professional.” you reply, your voice playful as you pout at the man in front of you. He laughs and presses a kiss to your lips, “Boyfriend, huh? You’re trying to use my weaknesses against me aren’t you?” You look up at him with the best innocent face you can manage, “That depends, my dear, is it working?”

“Maybe.”

“Ugh, get a room, you two.” Seungkwan’s complaints cause a wave of laughter as Seungcheol just pulls you closer into his side, sticking his tongue out at the younger boy. The teasing continues for a while longer, but you can feel how the warmth in the room isn’t just coming from the shared space or the game. It’s the laughter, the familiarity, and that makes a smile spread onto your lips. No distance, no walls. Just warmth, joy, and the comfort of being surrounded by people who cared. People who you knew would be by your side through thick and thin because the clocks still tick and the Earth still spins, time moves forward with them by your side to move with it.

A/N: Wooo she’s finally done!! Thx @orngejuic for being my beta reader ilysm.

[natsaffection]

Yours to Taste | N.R

When your period starts, Natasha is forced to battle against her instincts, but the scent, the taste, the sheer temptation is too much. The moment she finally indulges, she loses herself completely.

Vampire!older!Natasha x Human!younger!Reader

Warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI! Age gap (N= 100+ r= 23), Blood, period sex, oral (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), multiple orgasm, possessive Natasha

Word count: 3,4k

A/N: The idea has been buzzing around in my head for a few days now..🩸

The quiet hum of your phone vibrating against the wooden coffee table pulled your attention away from the TV screen. You had been curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, clutching a heating pad against your stomach, when you felt it, the unmistakable ache and warmth spreading through your lower abdomen. Shit.

You blinked at your phone screen. Natasha’s name was already waiting in your chat, her last message sent hours ago when she left for work. You hesitated for a second before typing.

Hey love, just a heads-up…I just got my period. Don’t freak out when you get home, okay? 😕

You hit send and stared at the screen, watching the three little dots appear. A few moments later, her response popped up.

Understood, moya lyubov (my love). I’ll be home soon.

Her message was simple, but you could almost hear the undertone of tension beneath her words. You knew she’d keep herself in control..she always did. But still, your blood had an effect on her, more than she liked to admit. You sighed, stretching your legs over the couch and burrowing deeper into the warmth of your blanket. You trusted Natasha with everything in you, but you also knew what she was. And this? This was going to test her patience.

An Hour later, the sound of the front door unlocking made you glance up. Your stomach was still twisting in knots, and you were halfway through a cup of tea when you saw her stepping through the doorway, eyes dark with something unreadable. But then she saw you, and the tension in her shoulders eased just slightly.

“Hey, darling.” she murmured, voice smooth but careful, like she was forcing herself to stay in control. “Hey.” you smiled softly, setting your cup down. “Rough day?”

“Nothing I couldn’t handle.” She stepped forward, but then she froze. You saw it the moment the scent hit her. Her pupils dilated, her body stiffening for the briefest second before she took a slow, controlled breath. Your stomach flipped with guilt. “I’m sorry..” you mumbled, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself like it could somehow hide your scent from her. “I know this is..well, hard for you.”

Natasha’s jaw tightened, and she exhaled through her nose. “Don’t apologize.” she said, but there was a tightness to her tone, like she was barely keeping herself in check. You watched her carefully, the way her fingers twitched at her sides, the way her throat bobbed when she swallowed. Her usual sharp composure was fraying at the edges, but she was holding herself together for you.

“I can sleep in the guest room tonight..” you offered, voice gentle. Natasha’s head snapped up, her green eyes narrowing. “No.” She took another slow step toward you, moving like a predator stalking forward, but her eyes..God, her eyes held something deeper.

“You are my love.” she murmured, her voice thick with something more than just hunger. “I have lived for centuries, and not once have I felt what I feel for you.” She reached forward, her fingers ghosting over your cheek. “You don’t have to hide from me.“

“But..” you hesitated, glancing away. “I don’t want to make this harder for you.” A small chuckle escaped her lips, low and dark. “Oh, Detka (baby), you have no idea how hard it already is.” She leaned down, pressing her forehead against yours, her cold breath fanning over your skin. “Do you trust me?” she whispered. You nodded instantly. “Always.”

A smirk tugged at her lips before she pulled away slightly, her gaze flickering to your neck for the briefest moment before she looked back at you. “You should rest.” she said, her voice softer now, more controlled. “I’ll get you everything you need.”

“You don’t have to-”

“I want to.” Your lips parted in surprise, but Natasha was already turning away, slipping out of the room with graceful ease. A few minutes later, she returned with another heating pad, painkillers, and your favorite chocolate bar. She placed everything beside you before kneeling down in front of the couch, her hands resting on your knees.

“Better?” she asked, tilting her head slightly. You felt a smile tug at your lips. “Much better.” Wordlessly, she walked into the kitchen again, and a few moments later, she returned with a wine glass filled with a deep, rich red liquid- your blood. You had both prepared for days like this, ensuring Natasha had a collected supply from you when things got too difficult. It was something she had initially protested against, but eventually, she had accepted it as a compromise.

She sat down beside you, swirling the liquid in the glass before taking a slow, measured sip. A satisfied hum rumbled in her throat as the taste hit her tongue intoxicating, rich, unlike anything she had ever known. You watched her, resting your head against her shoulder. “Better?”

She turned her head slightly, pressing a kiss to your hair. “Much.” But it was a lie. Natasha was a master of control, but even she had limits. But she wouldn’t break. She refused to. Instead, she focused on you, on the way your fingers absentmindedly traced patterns on her arm, on the way you sighed as you settled deeper into the couch. “What are we watching?” she asked, shifting her attention to the screen.

“Some rom-com..” you replied, waving a hand dismissively. “I needed something light.” She chuckled, taking another slow sip from her glass. “You and your guilty pleasures.”

“You love them too!” you teased, nudging her side. A smirk played on her lips. “I tolerate them because you love them.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes but smiling nonetheless. The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, watching the movie while Natasha slowly drained her glass.

But despite her best efforts, her mind kept betraying her. The blood she drank satisfied her, but it wasn’t enough. Not when the real thing was sitting right next to her, her scent wrapping around Natasha like a drug. The warmth of you, the sound of your pulse, steady and inviting made it so much worse.

Her fangs ached, her instincts screaming at her to sink them into your soft skin, to taste you directly, to indulge in the one thing she craved more than anything. She clenched her jaw, her fingers tightening around the glass.

No. She would not lose control. Not with you.

You stirred beside her, breaking her from her thoughts. “I’ll be right back..” you murmured, standing up and stretching slightly. “Bathroom break.” Natasha nodded, watching you as you disappeared down the hallway. And then she exhaled, long and slow, her carefully built restraint momentarily slipping as she ran a hand through her hair.

God..

The moment you left the room, the scent of your blood intensified. Without you sitting beside her, your fragrance spread more freely, wrapping around her like an unshakable grip. She set the empty glass down on the coffee table, flexing her fingers as she let out another slow, measured breath. Her fangs ached more now, her throat burning with the effort it took to keep them from extending fully.

The worst part? She wanted more. Not out of hunger, but out of something else. Something deeper…She wanted to taste you from the source. To have you beneath her, warm and willing, trusting her completely as she sank her fangs into you not out of need, but out of devotion.

She squeezed her eyes shut, inhaling sharply. Control! She had mastered it for centuries. She could handle this. The bathroom door opened and the scent hit her all over again. Natasha stiffened, gripping the couch cushion as her fangs pressed against her lips.

And then you walked back into the room, completely oblivious to the battle raging inside her. “Everything okay?” you asked, tilting your head slightly. She swallowed thickly, forcing a smirk onto her lips. “Of course, baby.”

Another lie.

And she prayed you wouldn’t see through it. But you weren't oblivious. You knew Natasha better than anyone-better than she sometimes knew herself. So when you stepped back into the living room and saw the tension in her shoulders, the way her fingers dug into the couch cushion, the way her jaw was clenched just a fraction too tightly-you knew. She was struggling.

But she wouldn’t ask. She would never push you, never make you feel like an obligation. No matter how much she needed you, no matter how much her body screamed for your blood, she would starve before taking something you didn’t freely offer. And that’s what made you decide. A beat of silence stretched between you, thick and charged, before you slowly stepped closer. Natasha's pupils dilated slightly, but she didn't move.

You swallowed, shifting your weight from one foot to the other before speaking. "You can take from me, Nat.." you whispered, tilting your head slightly, exposing the soft skin of your neck. "I trust you." A sharp inhale. A slow exhale. Her grip on the couch tightened, her fingers curling into the fabric like it was the only thing keeping her tethered. She wanted you-God, she wanted you-but not like this.

Not when she was barely keeping herself together. She exhaled through her nose, reaching forward, her cool fingers brushing against your wrist before she gently pulled you down beside her.

"You have no idea how much that means to me." she murmured, her voice thick with emotion, "but it won't be enough." You blinked, confused. "What do you mean?" Natasha's jaw tensed. Her eyes flicked downward-toward your abdomen. Your face flushed instantly as realization hit you. “Oh.."

A flicker of something unreadable passed over her face before she met your gaze again. "Your blood is strongest at the source, moya lyubov (My love)." Her fingers brushed against your thigh, light as a feather. "That's what I need." Your heart stuttered in your chest. Heat crawled up your neck. "But..it's...” Your voice faltered, and you glanced away. "It's dirty.."

Natasha was silent for a moment, and then a quiet chuckle. Not mocking. Not teasing. Just fond "Oh, Y/n.." she murmured, cupping your cheek, coaxing you to look at her. “It's not dirty. Not to me." You bit your lip, still hesitant. "But it's..it's different..!"

"It's you." she countered, her voice dipping lower, more intimate. "The most sacred part of you." Your breath hitched. Natasha leaned in, pressing a kiss to your temple before whispering, "Do you trust me?" You exhaled slowly. You did. Always. So you nodded. She leaned in, her lips ghosting over your jaw. “Let me take care of you.”

You exhaled shakily, your fingers tightening around her. You had never done this before. You had shared nights of pleasure, of intimacy, but never during your period. The thought of it made you hesitant, but the way Natasha was looking at you, like you were something sacred, something she worshiped…

Natasha’s eyes darkened with something primal, but she stayed in control, her movements slow, gentle. She kissed you deeply, her hands sliding down, undressing you inch by inch. She took her time. Even as her instincts screamed at her to just take, she resisted because this wasn’t just about her hunger.

It was about you. Making you feel comfortable. Making you enjoy it. By the time she reached her destination, her lips pressing reverent kisses down your stomach, her grip on her control was paper-thin. “Relax..” she whispered, her voice thick with desire. “Let me worship you.”

The moment your blood hit her tongue, the moment the warm, intoxicating essence slid down her throat, something inside her snapped. A deep, primal groan rumbled from her chest, vibrating against your skin as her hands tightened on your thighs, keeping you firmly in place.

She couldn’t stop- wouldn’t stop. Not now..Not when she finally had the one thing she had been denying herself for too long. The taste..it was richer than anything she had ever known. Sweet, dark, forbidden in the most delicious way. And the scent?

It was overpowering.

It clung to her senses, invading every part of her, making her wild with hunger, desperate to take more, to drink deeper, to claim you in a way that no one else ever could. And then..Your moans. The moment the first soft, broken sound slipped past your lips, Natasha shuddered.

Her grip on you tightened, her nails digging into your skin as she groaned against you, drinking deeper, her tongue flicking against you in slow, intentional strokes. “Fuck..” she murmured against your sensitive flesh, her voice thick, possessive. “You taste..so fucking..good.”

Your back arched off the couch, your fingers tangling in her red hair, your thighs trembling against her shoulders. “N-Natasha-“ She smirked against you. “That’s it..” she purred, her voice dripping with seduction. “Let me hear you, baby. Let me know how good I’m making you feel.”

Your breath hitched, a whimper escaping you as she flicked her tongue in just the right way, sucking lightly before groaning again, completely lost in the taste of you. She could feel it. The way your body was responding to her. The way your thighs tensed, the way your breathing came shorter, the way your hips jerked slightly with every slow, torturous stroke of her tongue.

“So sensitive..” Natasha teased, her voice dark with amusement. “Is it because of me, or is it because you’re already so worked up from how much I’ve been craving you?” You let out a soft cry, your nails scraping against her scalp, pulling her closer.

She groaned again, the feeling of your desperation only fueling her own. “Oh, you like that, don’t you?” Natasha murmured against you, her voice like velvet, like sin. “You like knowing how fucking insatiable you make me?” Your head tipped back against the couch, your entire body on fire, the pleasure building, coiling tighter, stronger with every slow, indulgent flick of her tongue.

And then Natasha felt it. The shift. The way your body suddenly went tense, the way your thighs quivered, the way your fingers gripped onto her like she was the only thing keeping you tethered to this world..and she could taste it.

The deepening of your arousal, the way your body was offering her the best of the best- “Oh..” Natasha moaned, her voice wrecked with pleasure, her own hips grinding down against the couch involuntarily. “You’re so fucking close, aren’t you, Darling?”

A desperate, needy whimper escaped you. Natasha grinned, her fangs dragging lightly against your sensitive skin, her hands gripping your thighs tighter, keeping you right where she wanted you. “Give it to me.” she whispered, her tone commanding, possessive. “Come for me, Detka (baby)c Let me taste every. Fucking. Drop.”

That was all it took. You broke, your entire body arching, a loud, desperate moan ripping from your throat as your release crashed over you, waves of heat and pleasure flooding through your veins. Natasha groaned deep, guttural, wrecked as she drank through it, devouring every last bit of you, her fingers digging into your thighs as she held you still, taking everything you had to offer.

She was fucking gone. Your taste, your pleasure it was too much. And she never wanted it to end. She didn’t stop until you were trembling, until you were whimpering, until your body had given her everything and even then, she lingered, pressing slow, possessive kisses against your inner thigh, purring against your skin as she finally, finally pulled away.

She hovered over you, her green eyes dark, her lips glistening, her breath ragged. “My beautiful Treat.” she murmured, brushing her fingers over your cheek, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your lips. “You are everything to me.”

Your body was boneless, sprawled beneath Natasha, your chest rising and falling with ragged, uneven breaths. The aftermath of your release still pulsed through your veins, leaving you sensitive, your skin electric under her touch.

You barely had time to catch your breath before Natasha shifted, moving with effortless predatory grace. Before you could even process it, she was lifting you, flipping you, maneuvering your spent, shaking body into her lap, so your back was pressed against her chest, your head resting against the cool, safe haven of her shoulder.

You gasped, your hands instinctively reaching for her arms, gripping her like a lifeline. “N-Nat-” A low, pleased hum vibrated against your ear as she settled behind you, her strong arms locking you in place. “Oh, how cute..” she purred, her lips ghosting over your jaw, her breath cool against your overheated skin. “You didn’t think I was done with you yet, did you?”

You let out a soft whimper, your body already too sensitive, too worked up- But Natasha’s hands were already moving. Right back to the mess she had created between your thighs. You whimpered sharply, your hips jerking, trying to squirm away, but she didn’t let you.

A dark chuckle left her lips as she wrapped one strong arm around your waist, holding you firmly against her. “Oh no, Darling.” she murmured, her voice dripping with hunger. “You’re not going anywhere.”

Your fingers tightened around her arm, a shaky moan slipping from your lips as her fingers teased over your still-sensitive core, sending shockwaves through you. “Natasha, please..” She tsk’d, nipping at your jaw. “Ah ah, no hiding from me.”

A sharp gasp left you as her fingers moved, slow, torturous, but still so deliberate, stroking exactly where you needed her, where she knew would make you fall apart again. Your body twitched, your thighs shaking, a broken moan spilling from your lips as she curled her fingers just right.

“Still so sensitive..” she murmured, her lips trailing down your neck, whispering sinful promises against your overheated skin. “You’re so perfect like this, you know that?” Her voice was thick, possessive, dripping with pure adoration.

“Whimpering in my arms, squirming, desperate for more, even when your body is already spent..” Her tongue flicked over your pulse, feeling it race beneath her lips. “I could stay here forever, my love. Tasting you. Feeling you. Owning you.”

A deep, broken moan slipped from your lips as your body arched, completely at her mercy. She could feel how close you were again. The way your body tensed, the way your breath hitched, the way your fingers clawed at her arm, as if begging for something more.

And then..She whispered it..The words that sent fire straight through you. “Can I bite you?” You whimpered sharply, your head tipping back against her shoulder, your breath coming in quick, shallow pants. You were too far gone, too wrecked, but she was waiting. She needed your permission. She could hear the hesitation in your breathing, so she waited..

Her pace didn’t slow, if anything, her fingers moved faster, building you up, bringing you right to the edge again, making your body tremble, making your mind flood with nothing but her. You needed it. You needed her. “Y-Yes..!” you gasped, whimpering, clutching her arm desperately. “Please, Nat-“

That was all it took. She struck. Her fangs sank deep, piercing your soft, flushed skin, sending white-hot pleasure exploding through you. A sharp, broken cry left your lips as your entire body arched, your release slamming into you, more intense than anything you had ever felt before.

Natasha groaned loudly against your neck, drinking you in, her fingers still moving, pulling you through it, dragging out every last bit of pleasure until you were shaking, twitching, utterly spent in her arms.

And God..The taste..The way your blood flooded her mouth, mixed with the adrenaline, the ecstasy of your pleasure. It was divine. Natasha moaned deeply, drinking slowly, savoring the warmth, relishing in the way your body still twitched in aftershocks, your whimpers muffled against her arm as you came down from your high.

Finally, finally, she pulled away, her tongue lapping over the puncture marks, sealing them with gentle care. You were limp, your breathing slow, your skin still flushed, but you had never felt safer. Natasha nuzzled against you, pressing soft, reverent kisses to your jaw, to your shoulder, her arms tightening around you as if she never wanted to let go.

“My perfect girl..” she whispered, completely wrecked, her lips brushing over your ear. “I’ll never want anything but this.” You let out a soft, exhausted sigh, melting against her. And in that moment, wrapped in Natasha’s arms, claimed, cherished, utterly loved, you knew. She wasn’t just your vampire. She was yours. Forever.

-

-

-

-

[angerydome]

Boomers don’t have a great internal metric for costs. While I was finishing up college, I had this weird gig (also at said college) where I worked well over 40 hours a week but was paid a garbage hourly rate. I also had a $4k car that I’d bought outright a couple years back, my rent was fairly low because I lived well outside the area where I was going to school, and I was utilizing all the public assistance I could. But I had a major health disaster and ended up pretty deep in the hole.

My boss, who had been salaried by the college basically as soon as he got his Bachelor’s sometime in the mid fifteenth century, suggested I sell off my car to deal with my debt situation.

I explained that I’d bought it for a few grand, was unlikely to make back the amount I had paid for it, and also I needed that car to make the half hour drive to campus (along with errands). Especially considering I was disabled and walking to the bus stop, transferring several times, and dealing with weather extremes was not something I could do without my health crashing again. Not to mention, I would barely break even on my debts if I sold the car, and I had no idea when I could reasonably obtain a new one (fun fact: you sort of need a car in order to get to most places where they sell cars).

My boss told me my priorities were out of whack, then chewed me out for not being in at 8am like everyone else, even though I was the only person on our team who took regular ends-at-4am night shifts.

I don’t think boomers have the tiniest clue what makes a difference in any economy since the 80’s.

[moonstruckme]

you rang for steve requests!!!

you write him so soft and boyish and nice, i've been wanting to request something and i just got an idea!

maybe some hurt comfort about reader coming to the starcourt parking lot to pick up steve (and robin and dustin) as soon as they hear abt the fire? or the emts asking steve who they should call and he just says rs phone number, and then like a "you came" "you called" moment?

I did ring, thank you for requesting lovely!

cw: season 3 canon events, reader is in the dark but won't be for much longer, mentions of physical injury, fire, suspicious governement folks covering shit up as suspicious government folks do

Steve Harrington x fem!reader ♡ 868 words

Your throat is impossibly dry the whole drive to the mall. Dry, and tight, like you couldn’t swallow if you tried. The parking lot is filled with everything from firetrucks to military helicopters, which you won’t think to wonder about until later. You’re scanning the smattering of people for Steve before you’re even out of the car. 

You don’t actually remember parking. Or pulling your keys from the ignition, or opening your door. The next thing you know you’re breathing in smoke and bumping shoulders with firefighters, your focus narrowed on the back of an ambulance. 

“Steve?” 

Your voice is hoarse, but he looks up like he can sense you. You see his lips form your name, brow bunching in that cute way of his. You start running. 

“Steve!” 

“Hey, hi.” He stands from the chassis of the ambulance, rocking back a little when he catches you. You hug him fiercely. “What’re you doing here?” 

He smells like smoke and oddly like iron, his skin damp with sweat. You don’t care; you curl your face into his neck. “I saw the fire on the news.”

“So you…drove towards it?” 

“I knew you were here!” You pull away from him, suddenly furious. “Why do you always have to work on your stupid project at night?” Steve’s been up to something lately. He won’t tell you about it, but you know it involves Robin and Dustin and something to do with translation. Steve says it’s not important but he acts like it is, and he’s been uncharacteristically tight-lipped about the whole thing. “Where’s Robin? Is she—” 

“She’s fine, she’s over there.” Steve juts his chin to the right. Through the smoke and chaos, you can just make out her familiar silhouette. She’s standing with a couple of kids about Dustin’s age. 

You let out a breath that turns into a shiver, and Steve cups your arms, rubbing up and down almost thoughtlessly. It melts down your anger into something wetter. When you look at him again, your voice is rough. 

“What happened to you?” 

“I’m fine, honey.” 

“Steve, your face.” 

He touches it, as though the tableau of black and purple bruises had slipped his mind. It’s hard to tell if his wince is from pain or remorse. “Right, yeah. Um…” 

“Mr. Harrington.” A voice comes from behind you, brusque and tired-sounding. You press closer to Steve instinctively, protective, but Steve’s face lights with recognition. 

“Oh. Hey, Doc.” 

You turn, too surprised to do much for covering your bemusement. Why would a doctor be wearing military gear like this, and be followed by a soldier carrying a gun? 

“Can we speak to you for a minute?” 

“Sure,” Steve says, but you talk over him. 

“No.” 

The man—Doc, whoever he is—looks at you as though just noticing you’re there. You steel yourself, but his gaze is more kind than hostile. Sympathetic, even. 

Steve squeezes your hip gently. “Y/n—” 

“No.” 

You don’t know what these people want with Steve, but you know you don’t like it. Your instincts are screaming at you not to let him go. To keep him close, preferably forever. 

Steve looks past you. “Can you give us a minute?” 

They go without a fight, seemingly assured in your boyfriend’s ability to placate you. You don’t want to be placated. You feel patronized and pent-up, and you blame that for the stinging tears that invade your vision. You cling to the fabric of Steve’s shirt like a vice. 

“Hey,” he lowers his voice, head dropping to meet your eyes. “It’s fine, they just wanna talk to me.” 

“Why? Can’t it wait? You just got out of a burning building, you—” 

“It won’t take long. They just want me to tell them what happened.” 

“You haven’t even told me what happened.” Your voice tightens and splinters, fist clenching so hard in Steve’s shirt you can feel your own nails through the fabric. Steve grabs your face in a panic. 

“Honey, it’s fine. Okay? It’s fine. I’ll tell you,” he says in a rush, then pauses. Something new comes over his expression, and he drops his forehead to yours. Lets out a breath. “I’ll tell you, I promise. Later, okay? This’ll just take a minute, and then we’ll go back to my place and talk. Alright?” 

You feel silly, sniffling and with tears on your cheeks, but you nod. 

“Okay,” Steve breathes out. His grip on your face gentles, cradling your jaw as he bends to kiss you. 

It’s meant to be a brief, conciliatory kiss, you know, but with all your overwhelm and all Steve has no doubt been through it heats up fast. You’re both gasping when he pulls away, using a thumb to wipe the wetness from your cheeks. 

“I’ll be right back,” he promises you. 

“You better be,” you threaten. You’re really quite serious, but Steve smiles, and naturally the sight of it makes your lips tug too. 

“I will,” he says. “Just, wait here, okay? Right back.” 

You hop up on the ambulance as he goes, making his way through the smoke to where Doc and his armed buddies wait for him by a helicopter. You couldn’t take your eyes off him if you tried.

[rose24207]

Prompt “we should not have split up” with mafia lando?

On your own

Summary: Kidnapped after a fight, you learn the hard way—leaving Lando after a fight was a mistake.

Genre: Mafia, dark

Mafia!Lando x reader

TW: Mafia, guns, kidnapping, shooting, fighting

A/N: I’m alive dw! English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome!

Masterlist pt.2

The air was thick with tension, the kind that seeped into your bones and made your skin prickle. The dimly lit warehouse smelled of damp concrete and motor oil, the faint flickering of a faulty overhead light casting eerie shadows across the space. Your wrists ached from the rough rope binding them behind your back, the sharp bite of the restraints cutting into your skin.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

You and Lando had fought—again.

You had spent the past year at his side, not just as his lover but as his confidante, his equal in the world he ruled with an iron grip. But Lando had always been overprotective, always acting as if you were fragile, incapable of handling yourself. It had been a minor argument at first—about a meeting, about territory, about how you weren’t a liability. You had told him you could handle yourself, and in the heat of the moment, you made a reckless decision.

You left on your own.

And now you were paying the price.

The man across from you—Matteo Ricci, a rival boss Lando had crossed one too many times—grinned as he crouched in front of you. He was older, seasoned, with deep scars that ran down the side of his cheek, souvenirs from a life spent in violence.

"You should have stayed by Norris' side, cara," Matteo mused, rolling a knife between his fingers. "But I suppose this works just as well. He’ll come for you. He always does. And when he does…" He smirked. "He’ll be walking into a trap."

Your stomach twisted. You knew Lando would come. He wouldn’t stop until he found you, and that was exactly what Matteo was counting on.

The sound of a car screeching to a stop outside sent Matteo’s men scrambling. They pulled out their weapons, fingers tight on the triggers, as heavy boots thundered against the pavement.

Then, silence.

A deadly, suffocating silence.

You knew that silence.

And so did Matteo. His expression faltered for the first time, his hand tightening around the knife. “He’s here.”

The lights above flickered once. Then the warehouse was plunged into darkness.

A gunshot rang out. Then another.

Screams followed, cut off as quickly as they started. Bodies hit the ground with dull thuds, the unmistakable sound of a silencer making it clear that Lando had come prepared.

You swallowed, pulse pounding.

The next thing you knew, a hand was gripping your chin, forcing you to look up.

Lando.

His face was a storm of emotions—anger, relief, fury, love. His normally bright blue eyes were dark, almost black in the dim lighting, his jaw clenched so tightly you thought he might break his own teeth. Blood stained his knuckles, splattered across the crisp black suit he wore.

“You,” he seethed, his voice dangerously low, “should not have left.”

Before you could answer, his knife was out, slicing through the ropes around your wrists in one swift motion. As soon as you were free, he yanked you up, pressing your body against his. His grip was bruising, his breath hot against your temple.

"You could have died," he growled.

"But I didn't," you whispered.

His fingers dug into your waist. "Because I got here in time. Do you have any idea what I was thinking when I found out you were missing?"

A lump formed in your throat. "Lando—"

"No." He pulled back just enough to cup your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek. "We should not have split up."

You exhaled shakily, feeling the weight of those words. He was right. You had been reckless, stubborn. And now?

Now, you understood.

"I'm sorry," you murmured.

His lips crashed against yours—desperate, angry, possessive. His hands gripped you like he was afraid you’d disappear, like he was grounding himself in the taste of you.

When he finally pulled back, his breath was ragged. "You’re never leaving my side again."

It wasn't a request.

And for once, you didn’t argue.

Thank you for reading!

Taglist: @ipushhimback, @ladyoflynx, @lewishamiltonismybf, @cmleitora, @hmma3 , @same1995, @amatswimming, @llando4norris, @dr3wstarkey, @hurtblossom

[ts-janus-rp-blog]

"Didn't want you to?" Remus snorted, "well, sucks to be him, huh? It's a good thing you didn't, I bet he would've hurt you if you did... And yeah, probably. Really? You don't mind your body?" Remus nodded, "I thought you would've, if I'm being honest. You pass so well that I thought you would've hated your body. I don't mind it either, whatever you're happy with then I'm happy with. I just...wanted you to know that you don't have to keep this body if you don't want to. I'm happy with anything." He smiled to him, then he worked his way back up to start washing the blood off of his neck. "I really have made quite a number of bruises on your neck... We better talk to Patton before he freaks out about this."

"Hm, I doubt that would work... I mean, he won't believe you if you call him. Even if you get Roman to call him and tell him directly that he's safe and happy, I doubt he would believe it. I mean, you can try... But that's just my opinion." The man shrugged, "Yeah? Alright, I'll send him a few dogs with a note. Mhm... Well, he clearly likes dogs, judging by Janus, so I think dogs may be the best bet. I'll get on that right away." The man grabbed a pencil and started writing that down on his notes.

"Oh, also, I have something else to report, talking about Remus... So, one of the boys mentioned that they've been keeping tabs on their ex. This ex lives close to Remus, and he used to be Remus therapist. He also is friends with Roman. But neither of them has spoken to this ex for some time. However, as of recently, after you finally got Roman, he's been spending an awfully long time with Remus all of a sudden. He's got some cameras set up inside of his ex house, and this is what he's caught." The man pulled out his phone, and he hit a few buttons. Finally, he presented the phone to Virgil, it was a live feed of Remus and Emile in the shower, and how they were giggling and moaning. "There's feed of them having sex too. Remus cares so much about his brother that he's having sex with someone he hasn't talked to in years instead of searching for his missing brother. That's horrible, don't you think?"

"Oh? He actually wore that and didn't complain? Huh, I thought he would've complained. I bet he looked quite adorable in it! Did you take any pictures of him? I would love to see it! Oh, I'm sure you made that clear amongst the boys, I heard them chatting about how they would love a piece of roman but they cant. Wow! And he let you do that?" The man chuckled, "I bet that was incredibly hot. Have you had sex with him yet? Do you think he's going to get pregnant anytime soon?"

"Hm... Well, that's another matter I wanted to talk to you about. I feel that the mutt is a liability. He may be working on getting out, or be Romans voice of reason. And we can't have that. I do understand that it makes Roman happy, so I agree that he should stay. However..." The man smirked as he opened his file and slid it over to Virgil. "I have an idea... I've been really interested in doing this experiment, but the opportunity hasn't presented itself yet. This is the perfect opportunity." He grinned, "Why don't we turn Janus into a stuffed animal? He won't be able to talk, he won't be able to get into Romans head, and he won't be able to help Roman escape. Hell just be a little plush toy that Roman can hold and feel comforted by. Now... Obviously, Roman would feel distressed to find his friend has turned into a plushie. But, I can manipulate Romans memories to make him think that his plushie has always been that, a plushie." He sipped.

Patton knocked desperately at the strangers door, praying someone, anyone was home. His heart beat as fast and loud as the rain thundering against the sidewalk. He was sure he was being followed, they were going to catch him. They were going to drag him back. He wasn't sure if whoever lived here might be worse, but he was willing to risk it at this point. Anything to escape.

{@moralpuppylover2}

Janus didn't know who would be at the door. It was late, but his master won't surely be home at this time. He normally doesn't get home until the sun starts to come up.

So, as the dog hybrid walked up to the door and opened it, he wondered who it could be. And if he should open it at all... Who knows, he may get in trouble with his master for opening the door. But, his curiosity was getting the better of him-

He stopped when he saw the soaking wet cat standing at the doorway. He could tell that this cat needed help almost immediately. Well, if his poor state of clothes were anything to go by. His eyes flickered up and down the sidewalk before he grabbed pattons arm and pulled him inside.

"are you alright?" Janus nervously asked as he grabbed a towel from the mud room. "Well, that's a stupid question, of course you're not alright! Are you...running away from your owners?" As Janus walked, the collar around his neck would jingle loudly. And even though it was cold outside and even in the house, he only had a pair of boxers on. Because of that, Patton would be able to see the numerous large scars that covered his body...and the countless amounts of fresh bruises.

@moralpuppylover2

[meo-eiru]

To Meru and all Eli’s lover, am I cooked??😭😭😭???

So I have some thoughts that the manager(me;) will take advantage of his pretty face to introduce him perfume advertisements and after that the selling goes on 📈📈📈(rich time>:)) I personally think his face would more suitable for those big brands luxury things than some small brands that he has always did(unfortunately he doesn’t understand that:( so I delulu my brain how much beautiful he become when in those stylish clothes(we cannot waste that beauty right??).

Anyway did u get ur acc back yet or still fighting the hell with the hackers?Its kinda sad to heard what u have lost but here it’s some art of ur baby boy to cheer u up^^

Just some random guy -> WHAT?!??

I didn’t know my brain could do this HELLO :D??

Do u need a coat sweetie;)

Can I have ur face Eli👁👄👁

GIRL WHAT THE HELL MY JAW DROPPED HOW??? THAT DRESS IS SO??? HE LOOKS LIKE A GODDESS I'M SPEECHLESS RIGHT NOW

I HAD TO DROP EVERYTHING AND SKETCH IT AS SOON AS I SAW IT I DIDN'T HAVE THE TIME TO ADD ALL THE DETAILS BUT I JUST HAD TO

HE'S SO BEAUTIFUL WE CAN'T LET THE GENERAL PUBLIC SEE THAT DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MUCH DESTRUCTION HE WOULD CAUSE??? THE STAN WARS WOULD BE CRAZY HE'D END COUNTRIES WITH HIS FACE CARD

Also I couldn't add it here but THE BAAACK DFVBHXDXFXV it's so sexy??? from the front he looks like the spring fairy goddess but then he has this revealing back with the gold butterfly oh my god I want to dover it in bite marks I'm losing my mind right now

For your question yes I got my account back! The only current problem is the hacker sold all my trading cards on steam and steam support says they can't help me or make refunds :/

[emsdevs]

Luke Hughes requests reader is doing the TikTok trend where she ask Luke and Jack questions about her to see who knows her better but pretends that Jack get all the answers right and Luke gets them wrong and his reaction Jack also knows what the reader is up to please

Know Me Better

a/n: i had way way wayyy too much fun with this one! nonnie you're a genius!! sorry for the wait but i hope it was worth it!! fair warning this is mostly dialogue!

masterlist | NHL Masterlists | Luke Hughes Masterlist

It took you days to talk both boys into doing a TikTok with you. Jack was completely against it until you told him you planned to prank Luke, and then he was game. Luke was much easier to convince after you had Jack’s help.

About a week ago, you were doing your nightly TikTok scroll when you came across a video of a girl pranking her boyfriend. She had gotten him and his best friend to answer questions she was asking about herself. However, she was pretending that whatever the best friend said was right and her boyfriend was wrong. The best friend was obviously in on it, and it took the boyfriend way too long to catch on. As soon as the video ended, you knew you needed to try the video with Luke and Jack. 

Now, the two brothers sat at their kitchen table, you standing behind them with your list of questions at the ready. You prop your phone up and press record. 

“Okay, guys, so I have this list of questions about myself, and I’m gonna make my boyfriend and his brother,” you point at Luke and Jack respectively, “and by the end, we’ll see who knows me better. You guys ready?”

“So ready, babe.”

“Yeah, let’s go.” “Okay! First question is easy. What is my favorite color?”

“Oh! Easy it’s purple!” Luke is the first to answer.

“No bro it’s green,” Jack says smoothly.

“Jack got it right! Good job!”

“Babe, no. Your favorite color is purple. It’s always been purple,” Luke is confused, his brows furrowed.

“No, hun, I changed it a few weeks ago remember? We talked about it with Jack.”

“Whatever,” he gives up, not wanting to argue while doing something you were so excited for.

“Okay, next question! What is my favorite flower?” “Oh! Marigolds!” Jack jumps in first this time.

“Um, no. It’s lilies.”

“Actually, Lukey, Jack is right! How did you even know that?” “Heard you guys talking about it last week,” Jack shrugs, knowing that’s not what he heard you say your favorite flower was.

“You mean when I got her lilies, and she was so happy because lilies are her favorites? So she told me that lilies were her favorites ten times?” Luke was beginning to get frustrated, narrowing his eyes at his brother. He knows for a fact that lilies are your favorite flowers, so he doesn’t know where Jack is pulling his information from or why you’re agreeing with everything Jack says. Then again, what if Jack is right? Is Luke a bad boyfriend?

“Anyway! Next! What color were my nails two weeks ago?”

“Light blue!” Jack speaks up again. He had no idea what color your nails were. He was guessing random stuff at this point.

“They were dark red, kinda a maroon color, and your ring fingers had a tiny white heart on them,” Luke knows there’s no way he was getting this one wrong. He had gone to your nail appointment with you, content to sit and mess around on his phone while you got your nails done. 

“Wow, Luke, that’s impressive detail, but Jack was right.”

“What?” he was borderline shouting, not really angry, just offended. He knew he was right, but what if he wasn’t? Either way, how was Jack getting every question right? “Babe, I know for a fact that’s what you got. I bought them. At the salon. I was there. I paid. Right in front of you.”

“No, baby, that was the set before the blue ones,” you force yourself to ignore the pout that now sits on your boyfriend’s face, “Okay, next up! What’s my go-to karaoke song?”

“Oh! It’s ‘Black’ by Dierks Bentley!”

“No, dude. It’s ‘Dancing Queen’ from that one Meryl Streep movie,” Jack had seen you sing that song once at karaoke, and it was after you sang “Black.”

“Oh, my god! Jack got it right, again!”

“No, babe. We sing ‘Black’ together,” Luke was giving you puppy dog eyes now, and you’re not sure how long you can keep this up.

Jack steps in to save you from answering again, “Yeah, bro, but she said her go-to karaoke song. That one is for both of you.”

“Whatever. How many more questions are there?” His pout is intensifying, and you can tell if you keep this up much longer, he’ll walk out. You decide to make the next question a little more obvious, something only Luke would know.

“Okay, Lukey, you should get this one. What did I eat on our first date?”

“Chicken alfredo,” Luke answers without even having to think about it. He remembers every detail of that night. 

“Nah, she had a plate of shrimp.” You don’t eat shrimp. Jack knows this. Luke knows this. That’s when it all sets in for Luke.

“Are you two kidding me?” he shrieks standing up, giggles coming out of his open mouth. “You’ve been messing with me this whole time?”

“Yes, Lukey,” you’re cracking up. You can’t help it, “You got every question right.”

“I knew it! You two had me freaking out thinking I was a bad boyfriend or something!”

“Sorry, man. She put me up to it,” Jack could barely talk through his laughter, but he still managed to throw you under the bus.

“Jerk!” Jack continued laughing as he walked away. You stopped the video, laughter still taking over you and Luke, “I’m sorry. I saw a video like that and thought it would be funny,” you smile at your boyfriend sheepishly.

“Yeah, real funny,” he rolls his eyes before grabbing your waist and throwing you over his shoulder.

You’re overcome with giggles yet again, “Where are you taking me?”

“To bed! We’re watching Secretariat, so you can make this up to me! And your hand better be in my hair the whole time!”

taglist: @heartsforjh @alex-wotton @devilinpradaheels @juxmi @macklin-celebrini-71 @puckmedude @alexxavicry @dancerbailey3 @madebyhappymeals @beenucks @

join the taglist

[russo-woso]

Interviewing chaos || G!P Beth Mead x reader

Request | Masterlist

Warning G!P content, blow job, risk of getting caught

Summary You tease Beth when she’s in the middle of an interview

A/N first time writing a G!P fic, let me know how I did 🫶🏻 I’d be willing to write more G!P players :)

“Love, my interview started in a five so I’m gonna be in the office for a quite a while.” Beth said, bringing you through a cup of tea.

“Okay, baby. Have fun.” You winked, Beth smiling back before running up the stairs.

You were gonna make sure Beth had fun, and you knew exactly how.

To set a backstory, Beth had woken you up with sloppy kisses on your neck.

The kisses got more passionate until you and Beth were pretty much naked, your bodies flush against each other.

Just as it was about to get more intense, Beth’s alarm rang, reminding her of the interview she forgot she had.

She got up, rushing around, leaving you all hot and bothered.

You got up and started your day though, keeping in mind an idea that could help get revenge on Beth.

And ironically, Beth had forgotten her coffee downstairs so you took it upon yourself to take it to her.

You creaked open the door to see Beth talking to the lady over her lap top.

Your plan was coming together.

You tiptoed in, placing the coffee on the table before falling to your knees.

Beth gave you a confused look, having a slight idea what you might be up to.

“Is everything alright, Beth?” The interviewer asked, Beth nodding immediately before gulping.

“Yeah, perfect. Sorry, what were you saying?”

The interview continued, Beth trying her hardest not to look down at you.

Beth’s breath hitched as your hand made contact with her.

Your hand slipped under her shorts, slightly pulling them down as your fingers wrapped around her.

Beth started speaking with her teeth slightly gritted, that way she couldn’t release a moan.

Your hand pumped up and down her length, Beth’s whole body stiffening at your actions.

You stopped for a split second, bringing your mouth to hover over her dick.

You took the tip of her dick into your mouth, sucking gently before taking her whole length.

You gagged silently as her tip touched the back of your throat.

Beth’s hand tangled on your hair, guiding you up and down the length of her dick.

You could feel Beth’s dick throbbing now, desperate to release.

Beth let out a ragged sigh as she tried her hardest not to moan.

“Are you sure everything’s okay?” The interview asked again.

“Actually, can I just have two minute?” Beth quickly said, the interviewer nodding.

Beth immediately put the lap top on silent, angling the lap top away from herself.

“Fuck.” Beth cursed, watching you take her dick into your mouth. “Gonna make me cum soon, huh? Gonna be my good girl and make me cum.”

Beth’s grip in your hair tightened, giving you an indication that she was close.

“Shit. I’m coming.” Beth groaned, filling your throat up with her cum.

Her hips thrusted into your mouth one last time as her hips stilled.

You swallowed, giving Beth a look of contentment.

You let her dick fall from your mouth, Beth quickly pulling her shorts back up.

“As much as I love you doing that, please never do it in the middle of an interview.” Beth sighed, pecking your lips.

“No promises.”

[headfullof-ideas]

Ahgnngh @tenebrius-excellium I’M SO GLAD YOU LOVE ITTTT!!! You and another person, i don’t remember their handle, both were so nice about the twenty minute doodles i spat out, I’m so glad you loved them!! I’m so geeked out that you caught on to Hiccup’s expressions, I thought that he would for sure not immediately be for this giant fire-breathing lizard who just so happens to be the unholy offspring of lightning and death itself just moseying up into his space. Toothless doesn’t know boundaries right now, lol, even in the forbidden friendship scene. Even in the movie! As soon as he’d been fed he just pushed himself into Hiccups space and backed him against a rock. His boundaries are firm, as in Hiccup’s not allowed to touch him, but as far as Hiccup’s space? It’s free real estate in Toothless’s eyes.

Oh no, yeah, Toothless is definitely just as observant as Hiccup. But I like to think that because he was a long range attacker, he never actually got up and close and personal with a human until Hiccup, and so only has a very basic idea of what Hiccup might need. His initial impressions probably aren’t great, Ala trying to stuff a bunch of fish down Hiccup’s throat. But like Hiccup he’d probably start going around observing Hiccup and other humans to get a better idea on how to take care of this squishy little twig of a human he’s found himself taking care of. Which in my head (and please tell me if this isn’t what you envisioned) leads to him somewhat officially partaking in the raids, but in the sense that he’s just breaking into peoples houses when their backs are turned and making off with whatever random stuff he can fit into his mouth and take off with, hoping that Hiccup knows what to do with it. It’s in their houses, surely that means that the humans need and use it often?

And that berry idea?? OH MY GOSH THAT’S HILARIOUS!! Yes, of course, I immediately scrambled to draw it. It took me a bit longer than the last one, partly because it’s a longer one, partly because i gave myself a little more time with it (still rushed, but eh), and partly because every other panel or so I had to sit and laugh my butt off for about ten minutes. The sixth panel especially had me cackling, I hope you like this!

Oi. so

Reverse Httyd where Toothless bites/rips off Hiccup's leg at the start of the movie. Hiccup then falls into the cove and is trapped there, or maybe he already was in the cove from the struggle during the dragon attack, but... he can't get out. And he is like actively dying from the blood loss, the pain, possible infection, exposure.

He hasn't got long. No one finds him, it's so deeply in the woods.

It's Toothless who has to decide to nurse Hiccup back to health/bring him back to his people, but it's Hiccup so he'll somehow still put up a fight against his deadly dragon enemy. Toothless is gonna have to earn this scrawny and injured human's trust.

[tideoverwater]

im baaaaaack! also please feel free to send requests, i'd love some more inspo. let me know what you guys think!!!! <3

The tension in the air was suffocating. The pristine dining room, filled with candlelight and polished silverware, had long since emptied, leaving Y/N alone at the grand oak table, staring at her untouched glass of wine. Her parents had left first, exchanging tight-lipped glances and murmuring their disapproval under their breath. Her brother and his girlfriend followed soon after, their expressions a mixture of pity and amusement. By the time the last guest excused themselves with a polite but knowing smile, Y/N felt her heart sink into the pit of her stomach.

Rafe never showed.

The dinner had been important—so important. Her family wasn’t the kind to welcome just anyone into their exclusive circles, and after weeks of convincing, they had finally agreed to let Rafe join them for a formal dinner at her family estate. It had been a chance for him to prove himself, to show them that he was more than just the reckless, wild Cameron boy with a reputation for trouble.

But he hadn’t come. No call. No text. Nothing.

By the time she got home, she was fuming.

The moment she stepped through the front door of Tannyhill, she tossed her purse onto the table with more force than necessary, the loud thud breaking the unbearable silence. She barely had time to slip off her heels before she heard the front door swing open.

"Y/N—"

Rafe’s voice was breathless as he stumbled inside, his hair a disheveled mess, his dress shirt untucked and wrinkled as if he had rushed over. His blue eyes were wide with panic the second they landed on her.

"Where the hell were you?" Y/N’s voice was sharp, edged with anger and something dangerously close to heartbreak.

Rafe shut the door behind him, running a shaky hand through his hair. "Baby, I’m so sorry—"

"Sorry?" she repeated, letting out a bitter laugh. "Sorry?" Her hands curled into fists at her sides as she took a deep breath, trying to steady the storm raging inside her. "You were supposed to be there, Rafe. You promised me."

"I know," he breathed, stepping toward her. "I know, I fucked up. I—"

"Do you have any idea how humiliating that was for me?" she cut him off, her voice cracking as she met his gaze. "I sat there for two hours making excuses for you while my family—my entire family—judged me for even thinking you could handle something this important."

Rafe flinched at the pain in her voice, guilt clawing at his chest. He had let her down—again. He had never seen her like this before. Sure, they had fought before, but this was different. This was real. This was breaking her, and it meant so much for him to meet her family and he knew this. 

"I was on my way," he insisted desperately. "I swear, I was on my way, but Ward called, and I had to handle something for him. I thought I had time, and then everything got out of control, and before I knew it—"

"Do you even hear yourself right now?" Y/N snapped, her arms crossing tightly over her chest as her nails dug into her skin to hold back the burning tears she could feel forming. "You thought you had time? You thought I’d just sit there and wait for you while you handled business for your dad? This is bullshit Rafe, and you know it."

Rafe clenched his jaw, frustration evident on his face, but it wasn’t at her—it was at himself. "I didn’t mean for this to happen."

"But it did happen, Rafe!" Her voice wavered as her emotions surged forward, overwhelming her completely. "And now my parents think I’m just some stupid girl wasting my time on a guy who can’t even be bothered to show up for me when it fucking matters." Rafe’s heart clenched at the sight of tears pooling in her eyes. His breath hitched, and before she could step away from him, he was in front of her, his hands grasping her arms gently.

"Hey, no, don’t say that," he pleaded with a hint of anger in his tone. "You are not stupid. You are the best damn thing that has ever happened to me."

Y/N shook her head, blinking rapidly as she pulled out of his grasp. "Then prove it to me, Rafe. Because right now, I don’t feel like I matter to you at all."

Rafe felt the panic in his chest turn into something worse—fear.

Without thinking, he dropped to his knees in front of her, his hands reaching out to grip her waist as he pressed his forehead against her stomach.

"Baby, please," he begged, his voice raw. "Please don’t say that. I swear to god, you mean everything to me."

Y/N let out a breath softly, her hands instinctively going to his hair as she looked down at him with tears streaming down her cheeks.

"I don’t care about anything else," Rafe continued, his grip tightening as if he were afraid she’d disappear. "Not my dad’s business, not my reputation, not these stupid Kooks, nothing—I just care about you." He exhaled shakily, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I can’t lose you, Y/N."

Her resolve wavered as she felt his desperation seep into her bones. Rafe Cameron—the Rafe Cameron who never begged for anything—was on his knees in front of her, pleading for forgiveness like a man who had lost everything. Her heart ached. She wanted to stay angry, to keep yelling, to make him feel the full weight of what he had done. But the sight of him—his head bowed, his body trembling slightly—made it impossible.

She swallowed hard, her fingers threading through his hair as she let out a shaky breath. "Rafe..."

He looked up at her then, his blue eyes glassy with unshed tears. "Fuck—Please, baby," he whispered. "Tell me how to fix this. Tell me what I have to do."

Y/N closed her eyes for a moment, trying to gather her thoughts. She was still hurt. Still furious. But she also knew Rafe, knew how deeply he felt things even when he didn’t know how to express them properly.

"You can’t just say you care, Rafe," she said softly, opening her eyes. "You have to show me. I need to know that when I need you, you’ll be there. That I can count on you."

Rafe nodded quickly, his hands gripping her tighter. "You can. I swear to you, you can. I won’t let this happen again." Y/N searched his face, looking for any hint of dishonesty. But all she saw was sincerity, guilt, and a desperate need to make things right.

She sighed, finally lowering herself to the ground with him. Rafe immediately pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her as he buried his face in her neck.

"I love you," he murmured against her skin, his voice thick with emotion. "So fucking much."

Y/N closed her eyes, letting herself melt into his embrace. She wasn’t ready to forget, but she knew that she loved him too much to walk away.

"I love you too," she whispered. "But Rafe... don’t make me regret it."

Rafe pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, his hands cupping her face with a gentleness that made her chest ache.

"I won’t," he promised, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. "I swear, I won’t."

The fight had drained them both, leaving behind nothing but the quiet hum of exhaustion and lingering emotion. Rafe had helped Y/N up from the floor, his hands never leaving her as if he was afraid she might slip through his fingers if he let go.

"Come on, baby," he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Let’s get you ready for bed."

Y/N nodded, her body still tense, but the warmth of his hands on her skin soothed her more than she was willing to admit. Rafe led her to their bedroom, his touch featherlight as he guided her inside.

The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting shadows along the walls. Rafe turned to her, his fingers trailing down her arms before he reached for the zipper of her dress.

"Can I?" he asked gently, searching her eyes for permission.

Y/N swallowed, nodding slowly. She could feel his breath against her shoulder as he pulled the zipper down with deliberate care, his knuckles grazing her skin. When the fabric pooled at her feet, Rafe didn’t let his hands wander. Instead, he pressed a slow, reverent kiss to her bare shoulder.

"You’re so beautiful," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I don’t tell you enough."

Her heart clenched at the sincerity in his tone. She turned to face him, lifting shaky hands to undo the buttons of his shirt. He let her, watching her with those piercing blue eyes, letting her take control of the moment.

When his shirt finally slipped from his shoulders, he reached for her hand, intertwining their fingers before bringing them to his lips. "I love you," he murmured against her skin. "More than anything. More than I know how to say."

Tears welled in Y/N’s eyes again, but this time, they weren’t from anger. She stepped closer, resting her forehead against his. "Then show me," she whispered.

Rafe exhaled shakily, his arms wrapping around her waist as he pulled her against him. He pressed soft, lingering kisses to her temple, her cheek, the corner of her lips—everywhere but where she wanted him most. He was worshipping her, letting his love seep through every touch, every breath.

"Let’s get in bed," he finally said, his voice low and tender.

He pulled back just enough to help her into one of his T-shirts, the fabric swallowing her frame in a way that made something warm settle deep in his chest. Then, he led her to the bed, pulling back the covers before guiding her underneath. The moment they settled in, Rafe pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her as if shielding her from the world. His hand traced lazy patterns along her back, his lips pressed against the top of her head.

"You still mad at me?" he asked after a moment, his voice quiet in the stillness of the room.

Y/N sighed, tucking herself deeper into his warmth. "A little," she admitted.

Rafe let out a soft chuckle, kissing her forehead. "I deserve that."

"You do," she agreed, tilting her head up to look at him. "But I also love you. And I believe you when you say you won’t let this happen again."

His jaw tensed, and he nodded, brushing his fingers along her cheek. "I won’t. I swear to you, Y/N. I’ll always put you first."

She sighed, relaxing into him. "Good."

For a while, they just lay there, wrapped in each other, the steady rise and fall of their breathing in sync. Rafe continued to whisper soft reassurances, his lips brushing against her skin between each promise.

"You’re everything to me," he murmured. "My whole world."

Y/N tightened her arms around him, pressing her face against his chest, letting the steady beat of his heart lull her into peace. And as sleep finally pulled them under, she knew—despite everything—they would always find their way back to each other.

[mystictimemachinedream]

No Mercy

a/n: Damn, I haven't posted in a while but I finally had some ideas. This was just a filthy idea that came to me lmao. I should be posting another fic soon enough but it will be much longer than this.

Leviathan x Reader.

Cw: Rough Sex, Jealous!Levi, Possessiveness, Double Penetration, Degradation, Choking, Dumbification, Levi having two dicks, Creampies, Fem!reader, kinda OOC.

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

You had no idea how you ended up like this—on your hands and knees, your back arched so obscenely deep that your ass was high in the air, presenting like some desperate bitch in heat. You’d been like this for what felt like hours, stuffed full of two thick cocks, stretched beyond reason, your cunt clinging to them greedily despite not knowing how the hell they even fit in the first place. But they did—oh, they did—and now, they dragged against your slick, gooey walls, each thrust sending pleasure-cracked lightning through your body. One thick, blunt cock nudged mercilessly against your sweet spot while the other rammed into your cervix over and over, a punishing rhythm that left you shaking and delirious, every nerve in your body reduced to raw sensation.

The filthy plap! plap! of skin against skin echoed through the room, mingling with your ragged moans. Every thrust sent Leviathan’s heavy balls smacking against your swollen clit, the impact making your toes curl, your body shudder. It felt too good—too much. Your eyes rolled back as you drooled onto the floor, your body strung tight between pleasure and unbearable need.

“L-Levi! I-it’s—ah!—too much!” You whimpered, weakly trying to crawl forward, your trembling hands dragging uselessly and pathetically against the smooth floor. But you barely made it an inch before he growled, his long, serpentine tail snapping around your waist like a vice.

With a sharp yank, he hauled you back hard onto his cocks, impaling you deeper, stealing the breath from your lungs. Your vision blurred with white-hot pleasure as he bottomed out, stuffing you so full your cunt spasmed around the thick intrusion, making you choke on a broken scream.

“But it wasn’t too much when you were acting like a little slut around Belphie, huh?” Leviathan spat, his voice laced with venom. One clawed hand cracked down onto your ass—

SMACK!

A high-pitched mewl ripped from your throat as your abused cunt clenching down around him like a vice, milking him without even meaning to. His rhythm never faltered—deep, ruthless strokes that had your thighs quivering, your mind unraveling at the edges. Your mind scrambled, barely able to grasp what he was talking about—Belphie?

Vaguely, you remembered the youngest brother trying to tug you down for a nap, how you’d squirmed away, desperately refusing because you knew how Leviathan got. As much as he was the awkward, blushing otaku who stammered at the mere mention of holding hands, he was also the Avatar of Envy. And when that envy took hold of him?

He fucked you like the demon that he was, like he needed to carve his claim into your body, brand you from the inside out.

And fuck, it was always so hot.

“I-I—ngh!—didn’t d-do anything,” you moaned, only to yelp when Levi yanked your head back by your hair, exposing your throat, forcing your back into an even deeper arch. His cocks drove into you even harder, your walls stretching around him in helpless surrender. You swore you could feel him in your throat with how impossibly deep he was.

“Didn’t do anything? That w-wasn’t—ah!—an apology, you fucking whore,” Leviathan sneered, his sweaty indigo bangs plastered to his forehead, coral horns gleaming under the ethereal blue glow of his massive fish tank. Henry 2.0 swam lazily in the background, oblivious to the debauchery taking place in front of him.

The creamy mess at the base of his cocks was proof of how many times he had already wrung you dry—how many times he had forced your spent cunt to cum, again and again, until you were nothing more than a twitching, babbling wreck.

Another sharp tug on your hair made you cry out, his claws digging deep into your waist. He was always so mean when he fucked you like this, so cruel. You knew if you didn’t apologize properly, he’d break you completely—fuck you until you passed out, just to prove a point. It only made your cunt clench even more tightly around his cocks at the thought.

When he changed his pace, slowing just enough to make you feel every thick vein, every ridge, your forehead dropped against the cool floor. You drooled messily onto it, shuddering, your pupils practically heart-shaped at the change in pace. He pulled out almost completely, leaving just the fat, leaking heads stretching your entrance, before driving all the way in again, burying himself to the base, grinding deep. The pressure against your cervix made your breath hitch, made your walls squeeze around him in helpless spasms. His tail still kept your hips up, ass high in the air, forcing you to take everything he gave you.

“‘M-‘m sorry! I-I won’t—f-fuck—do it again!” you sobbed, voice breaking into little hiccupping cries. Another deep, merciless grind had you gasping, his cocks stretching you so wide it felt like they were reshaping your insides. “I-I’ll be g-good!”

At your pathetic little plea, Leviathan’s cocks throbbed, the tight heat of your desperate little cunt making him groan. He leaned forward, pressing his sweaty, overheated chest against your back, his hot breath ghosting over your ear as his long fingers abandoned your hair in favor to sliding down—

Oh.

Oh.

A keening whimper tore from your throat as his thumb pressed down, circling your swollen, aching bud in tight, merciless motions. Your cunt instantly clamped down, gripping him in a desperate, needy vice. Fuck—fuck—just that and the slow, deliberate grind of his hips had you teetering on the edge.

“I-I can feel you tightening up,” Levi panted, his breath hot against your ear. His normally pale cheeks were flushed a deep crimson, his sunset-colored eyes glowing orange with predatory hunger. His thumb pressed down harder, faster, dragging you toward the inevitable. “Gonna make a mess on my cocks again, huh?”

Your toes curled. Your eyes rolled. You tried to rock back against him, to get him to pound you again, but his tail kept you trapped. You whined, needy, desperate.

“L-Levi! M-more—ahn!—I n-need more!”

The groan he let out was pure filth, low and breathless. His breath tickled your ear as he dragged his tongue along the shell before pulling back again. You whimpered when his fingers left your clit, but before you could protest, his hands clamped around your waist and—

He slammed into you.

“You were just whining that it was too much, and now you want more?” Leviathan panted, voice rough. “I-I guess—s-shit—I shouldn’t expect anything less from a cock-hungry little slut like you.”

His heavy balls slammed against your clit again, the wet plap! plap! echoing through the room, so obscene you would’ve blushed if you had a single thought left in your fucked-out brain. The sound of your sloppy cunt sucking him in, taking both of his cocks to the root, was filthy. It only made you get wetter, made your slick drip down your thighs, messy and wanton.

One of his hands released your waist and snaked up—

Around your throat.

Your high-pitched squeal turned into something closer to a gargled sob as his grip tightened just enough, the pressure sending you careening straight over the edge. Your body trembled violently, your walls spasming around his cocks, milking them greedily as you gushed, slick dripping down your trembling thigh. Your mind blanked, drowned in white-hot euphoria. You weren’t even sure what you were saying anymore, just slurred, broken babbles of his name.

Leviathan let out a guttural moan, his grip tightening as he slammed into you one last time—twice—before burying himself deep and cumming.

Thick, hot ropes of cum flooded your already abused cunt, making you tremble as the heat pooled inside you. He didn’t stop, didn’t pull out—just rocked his hips lazily, fucking his seed even deeper, filling you until you overflowed.

You barely twitched when his tail gently flipped you onto your back, legs spread, his cum already beginning to leak from your wrecked cunt. You expected him to be back to his awkward, flustered self—to stammer out apologies for being so rough, to blush and look away like he always did.

But your breath hitched when you looked up at him.

He was still in his demon form, his tail flicking idly, those glowing sunset eyes fixed on you like prey. His cocks—still hard—were glistening with his own release, drooling more thick strands onto your already ruined entrance.

Fuck.

“I thought we were done. I already apologized,” you murmured, voice shaky—though your traitorous thighs spread wider in silent invitation. Your twitchy, leaking cunt clenched around nothing, desperate for him to fill it again.

Leviathan’s lips curled, his tail coiling possessively around your waist. He took both of his cocks in one hand and—

Pap! Pap! Pap!

He slapped your soaked, needy cunt with the heavy, leaking heads, making you jolt, slick spilling even more in anticipation.

“It wasn’t good enough,” he murmured, voice dangerously low. “You need to give me a better apology.”

Leviathan was definitely going to fuck you unconscious.

Again.

[jinmindeulle]

vulnerable | k. mingyu, j. wonwoo (1)

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 kim mingyu x fem!reader x jeon wonwoo

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 3.3 k

𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆 angst, fluff | friends-with-benefits!mingyu, neighbor-and-highschool-crush!wonwoo | you decide! mingyu (pt. 2) or wonwoo (pt.3)

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 mentions about sex i guess?

when mingyu realizes that things are not going like he'd like between you two, he asks for some distance. lucky for you, your high school crush was waiting for you some doors away.

• • ┈┈┈┈ ๑ ⋅ ⋯ ୨ ୧ ⋯ ⋅ ๑ ┈┈┈┈ • •

“I don’t wanna fuck tonight”

For how Mingyu plopped himself onto your couch as soon as you opened the door to your apartment, it was pretty clear that he had just come by to spend the night cuddling with you — and you weren’t complaining. You loved being engulfed by your friend’s bulky arms and how he couldn’t get enough of you, even when you were fully clothed and talking about Love Island.

“What’s got you so sulky?” you asked, kissing the top of his head as you walked past him on your way to the kitchen. “You’re lucky I just got started with dinner”

“My boss is a pain in the ass — by the way, those shorts look fire on you” after giving the longest sigh you had ever heard coming from him, the man turned his head your way and winked.

You looked down at your legs and chuckled. Those shorts were the oldest, most worn-out you had in your closet. “I bet they do. Wanna talk about that boss of yours?”

“Nah, work belongs at work. Whatcha cooking?”

“I was craving some japchae.”

“Remind me again, how are you just my fwb?”

A soft giggle escaped your lips, and you just turned around to get started on your dish, not noticing how serious his question had been. The truth was, he was your best friend, with benefits, of course, but that was a line that Mingyu had never wanted to cross when you first started fooling around. 

The first time had been your fault, and Mingyu was always ready to throw that on you whenever he had the chance. You were a little bit drunk, not enough not to remember what happened the next day, but far away from the perfectly reasonable woman you normally were. 

The thing was, even when you were in all your senses and could discern wrong from right, Mingyu had always been an attractive fellow. Aside from his obvious heavenly looks, you felt satisfied and joyful when he favored you over other plans and even other girls. Mingyu looked at you with a softness that you knew only saved for you, and that had gotten into your heart… just a little. 

The pint of beer he treated you that night for helping him set up his new wardrobe made it easier for you to lean a little closer and press your lips to his. 

He looked at you with extremely big eyes but a smirk that you rarely saw while alone with him. “Sorry. You wouldn’t stop rambling” you said, which was partly true. Gyu had just started working as the editor-in-chief of a well-renowned newspaper and liked to tell you all about his new co-workers.

When you took it back to your place, it was obvious that Mingyu was okay with the idea of you kissing him. Now, he was the one bringing his lips to yours after you closed the door behind you. 

“I wanna keep being friends” 

Though it broke your heart a little, you had to admit you were fine with his proposal — just because it meant you gained new rights with the one man you had shared most of your life with. In between hot kisses, you nodded and in a mutual agreement, decided to let it happen. 

“You cannot violate the contract, Gyu” taking the veggies out of the fridge, you reminded him of the spoken agreement you had come to that day. We can kiss, we can have sex. We are not exclusive, we cannot be jealous. We can make it stop when one of us asks to. Keep it private.

“We never said anything about the label” Mingyu got up from the couch and decided to help you out, chopping the carrots you had saved for later.

“What part of ‘We are not exclusive’ equals having a label?” you asked, too concentrated on measuring the right amount of sauce to see the look he gave you.

“But we act as exclusive” 

What was wrong with him today? He had never dared to question whatever thing you got going on after the ‘main event’, so him throwing so many daggers at you regarding your situationship was weird enough to trigger you.

“What’s on your mind? It’s been almost a year of our little fuck-buddies thing and you never asked such dramatic questions”

He sighed and stopped working on the carrots, pressing his left hip to the kitchen counter and leaning on it. After some minutes of silence, he crossed his arms on his chest. “I don’t know. I guess the not-exclusive part but quite literally being exclusive has been on my mind lately. What makes us different from a couple?”

As you finished seasoning the beef, you cleaned your hands and faced him, not sure if you were getting his troubles. “Are you worried that because we are not fucking other people we are becoming ‘a couple’?” 

“Don’t you think so? I mean…” he scratched the back of his head, avoiding your eyes as the thought of you being a couple started to become a reality in his mind. “We act like boyfriend and girlfriend when we are around, we have amazing sex, we-w-we,” he stuttered “We adore each other”

“What I don’t get is,” you came closer to his broad form, looking up to his eyes “Why are you so worried about that?”

“Because I-I” his stutters were not so common on him, and that made you arch an eyebrow. He was not being his usual self “I don’t want us to be a couple” He sentenced.

Bold of you to assume that he was falling in love with you.

Nodding with a lump forming in your throat, you took a step back and dealt with your disappointment as well as you could “What do you suggest, then?”

“Go out with other people. Reject me from time to time, tell me you’ve got plans even when you don’t. Share your bed with another man. Just… don’t let me be the only one around you.”

“Then leave. I’ve got other plans”

. . . . . . . . . .

You hadn’t seen him ever since he left your dorm that eerie evening — over a week ago. He had shot you some texts, but the realization that you were actually feeling things for him beyond what he was willing to offer put a restraint on your replies. They were shorter, emojiless, and a bit bitter. 

Mingyu had wanted to see you two times, Thursday first and Saturday last. I’ve got plans, your default reply to both, and probably to all the invitations that were to come from him. He was getting what he had asked for: no more couple behavior.  

As you finished massaging your night cream with the ‘miraculous’ gua sha onto your jawline, your phone buzzed. An unknown number had sent you a text. 

Hi, Y/N

I know this is weird, but I heard you recently moved

And I think we’re neighbors

What an idiot, this is Jeon Wonwoo

The heat that you felt creeping on your cheeks was not normal, but you were used to it. Jeon Wonwoo had been the crush of your teenage (and not so teenage) years, all the way through high school and even your part-time job at Mrs. Lim’s café right before starting college. 

The seventeen-year-old version of you would be giggling and running around your dorm at just the thought of him and his cute-ass rounded glasses.

Oh my, hi Wonwoo! 

That’s awesome! I moved here a month or so ago, but I never saw you around

I’m at 12A 

Wbu?

As you saved his contact, you thought about how bad in love you had been with him in the past. 

He was the type of guy you had fantasized about for many years, even after meeting Mingyu. Wonwoo was serious at work and even in high school — his responsibilities had always come before anything else and you loved that about him. You just knew he was going to be a successful man in whatever he decided to do in life. And he got all the girls ogling at him, no matter where he went. 

That had been about eight years or so ago. You couldn’t wait to see how handsome he had gotten with time. 

No way

I’m at 16B

You home now?

I’d love to catch up

Just finished preparing some bibimbap

Oh. Dear. Lord.

You entered your closet as fast as you could and discarded the pajama set you had on with the ease that not even Mingyu could master. Your eyes fell on a casual summer dress that was your go-to whenever you needed an easy but cute way out and quickly threw it on.

Before throwing your night skincare routine to the trash with some light makeup, you replied to Wonwoo’s texts.

Sounds yummy! 

Be there in 5

After combing through your (thankfully recently) washed hair, you sprayed your favorite perfume on and took a deep breath. 

“Okay, little Y/N, here we go”

Nothing could have prepared you for what was waiting for you behind the 16B door. 

Jeon Wonwoo was as painfully handsome as he had been as an adolescent. Years had perfectly sat with him and that made your gut relive that tingling sensation you hadn’t felt for a long time. His glasses were still there — a more modern version of his older ones, but they screamed Wonwoo. 

“Oh wow,” he smiled, eagerly blinking, as if he had a blurry vision “I-I didn’t expect you to be quite literally the same as in high school” he smiled, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“Should I feel offended by that?” you giggled, looking down at your feet to avoid displaying the same dorky smile you did when around him. 

“Of course not! You were always a sight to see. I-I mean, you look beautiful, Y/N. It’s so nice to see you again”

You couldn’t help but think about how many times you had wished for him to look at you like that. To tell you those sweet things and leave you a blushing mess. After what had happened with Mingyu, having your longest-to-date crush in front of you seemed like you were already using all the luck you had available in life. 

“Come in!” he interrupted your thoughts, moving aside so you could enter his place. 

What came after that felt like a dream. Wonwoo was a dream. 

His apartment was very similar to yours, and what didn’t surprise you at all was how well-kept it looked. Though it was all neatly white and gray, bits of his personality were spread around them. Some artwork hung behind the couch, in front of which stood a very big SmartTV. He had two shelves with a handful of PlayStation games and cutesy plants.  

But what caught your attention the most was a small cat scratcher in the corner of the living room.

“You have a cat?!” You asked, eyes sparkling with anticipation as you turned to face him.

“Well… I’m about to have a cat” he chuckled, signaling you to walk to the kitchen with his head. As you followed suit, he continued “I’m waiting for my brother to bring it home tomorrow”

“Oh my God, it must be the cutest thing ever!” you cried, holding your cheeks with your hands as he showed you a picture of the small creature on his phone “It’s so tiny!” you whined, feeling excitement for what was about to come for Wonwoo “Please invite me over when it arrives” you pleaded, taking his arm to emphasize the importance your request. 

“You will be here, don’t worry”

The security with which he delivered that statement sent shivers down your spine. That confidence was new to you — this Wonwoo was new to you, and you couldn’t wait to explore him.

His bibimbap was delicious, and conversation flowed effortlessly between the two of you. 

Wonwoo had been working as a corporate lawyer for quite some time. Just as you had predicted, he handled big responsibilities like negotiating contracts, dealing with lawsuits, and advising companies on legal matters. He even mentored younger employees and, in his words, was respected but not necessarily liked. 

“I don’t believe that” you shook your head, putting down the chopsticks after finishing the delight he had cooked. 

“That’s me at work. I have a hard time with stupid-ass people”

“Now that I think about it… you did have a hard time with stupid-ass people at the café too”

“See? Not much has changed” He smiled at you, taking the empty plates and putting them into his small dishwasher. “So.. how’s life?”

That was a hard one. Of course, you were not about to rant about how Mingyu, a guy he had never met, had decided to end whatever you had just because he didn’t like commitment. Wonwoo didn’t need to know the hardships of your recently deceased situationship, so you opted to open a door you were now comfortable with opening. 

“26, single, working from Monday to Friday, reading books, and watching reality shows from Saturday to Sunday. A great catch, huh?” the joke-not-so-joke was well-directed because it had the effect you had intended. 

“If you take into account that I’m 28, also single and working from Monday to Friday, playing video games and maybe working out from Saturday to Sunday, I surely think you are an amazing catch” 

But that left you speechless. Wonwoo had never been that direct, even when you had teased him about the long lines of girls drooling on him during high school.

“That job of yours did wonders for your flirting skills, let me tell you” you giggled, feeling the same old tingling sensation on your stomach. 

When it finally hit you that the following day was Monday and the clock was close to 12 sharp, you regretfully made your way to the door. “It was so good to see you again Wonwoo. Thank you for the delicious food”

“I had a blast. Thank you for accepting the last-minute invite. So.. ’ll see you tomorrow?” his gentle smile and glistened eyes made you want to kiss him right then and there. But it felt too rushed, too desperate. And Mingyu was still on your mind, no matter how much you hated him lately. 

“I get home from work at around 7. Sounds good?”

“Do you still like ramen?” 

“Hands down my favorite dish of all time” you nodded eagerly, excitement creeping around you.

“You will taste the best one as of yet”

“Can’t wait”

. . . . . . . . . .

You loved your high-pressure job. As expected when working in finance, your team usually makes big decisions about the company’s mergers, stock trading, and investments. It demanded a lot of strategic thinking, and thankfully you were quite good at it. However, that also meant that you would end up exhausted, literally collapsing on your couch every single day.

But that Monday evening could not be the case.

As soon as you went out of the elevator, you could see his tall frame resting on the wall beside your apartment door, clearly waiting for you. You stood still for a second and considered going down the hall again before he could see you in an attempt to avoid the awkward conversation that was about to happen. But Mingyu was faster and turned around just when the elevator door closed. 

“Are you moving anytime soon?” he crooked his eyebrow, waiting for you to get inside.

“What are you doing here?”

“Trying to make up with you”

You felt silent as you opened the door, Mingyu’s gaze burning into you, his body too close for your liking. You could smell his manly perfume and that hit in places you would rather not. He had the same effect on you as he always did, and you hated yourself for letting him in so easily.  

“I have to leave soon, so make it short” you discarded your bag and waited for him to speak, hands on your hips. 

Mingyu stood by the door, studying your every move. You could see his brain making mental gymnastics to understand your new demeanor with him because you had never treated him like that. So crude, so direct, so painfully detached. But that was what you wanted him to feel — he had made you want that. 

“When I said that I didn’t want us to be a couple I didn’t mean to stop seeing each other. I suggested you start seeing other people and spending a little less time on our own. But you cut ties altogether” It hurt you to see him looking at you with glistened eyes, and even though he tried to hide it, you noticed how his lower lip trembling. That… you didn’t expect that “I love hanging out with you. I love what we had.”

“I don’t get you,” you shook your head when you finally wrapped your head around what he was saying “You were clear when you said that you wanted us to still fuck around but not all the time. And I understood. So, when I finally comply with your wishes, you tell me you loved what we had?”

“I don’t see what you don’t get” he took a step forward, reaching out to brush your fingers with his “I was happy with how things were going, but I just… I needed to make sure we were following the rules”

The contradiction was so clear to you that your head was about to explode. “You were happy but because we were not following one stupid rule, which you considered to be more important than what we had, you had to ruin it”

Mingyu opened his mouth to respond, but you shook your head and prevented him from saying anything else “You clearly have some shit to reflect on, Gyu. I love you and I had a great time with you, but I just cannot keep on doing this if you are worried about what we are rather than how we feel. Have you stopped to think about why we never slept around with other people? Why we were so comfortable with one another, no matter if we had sex or not?” you pressed your hands to his cheeks, taking in how vulnerable he looked. His eyes were fixated on yours, standing still in his place, listening attentively “The rule was there because we decided to create it at a time when we didn’t know where this was heading. It felt natural because we were transforming a friendship into something else… we thought we were going to stop on a middle ground between friendship and a couple's relationship. But by now you and I know we were exclusive, we were around each other all the time — we just were private.”

“I-I…,” Mingyu mumbled slowly reaching to put his hands on yours, still holding his face “I never realised it” The weakness with which he delivered it made your heart twitch. 

“I know. I think, deep down, we were aware of what we were — putting on the label was the scary part. But, Gyu…,” you smiled a little and decided it was best to end the conversation there “We don’t have to do this. You don’t want commitment, and that’s fine” 

“I don’t know what I want” he closed his eyes, slowly taking a breath. 

“Go home and take your time.” 

It felt like a farewell. You were sure he was not ready to commit with you, or any other woman. You loved him, yes, and you were willing to wait for him to decide, no matter how disadvantageous the situation was for you. But you also knew there was someone else waiting for you in 16B.

So you kissed Mingyu, taking his lips with soft care, sighing when he took you by the waist and pressed you against his hard chest. He hugged your lips with his in a desperate attempt to get all he could from this last one, and hopefully remember how you felt for the nights that he was about to spend all alone, wishing to have you by his side.

“Go” you whispered against his lips, taking him by the arms and pushing him away.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N”

• • ┈┈┈┈ ๑ ⋅ ⋯ ୨ ୧ ⋯ ⋅ ๑ ┈┈┈┈ • •

part 1 | you decide... mingyu (2) or wonwoo (3) soon!

please like and reblog!

[deepamuthukrishnan]

We Listen and We Don’t Judge

Pairings: Nico Hischier x OC

Warnings: Spoilers for That Sik Luv, King of Wrath, King of Sloth, God of Wrath, and God of Malice but just a lot of fluff.

Summary: You are a viral booktoker and after seeing the we listen and we don’t judge trend with couples, you put your own twist.

—————————————————————————

It’s not a joke that you are mildly addicted to TikTok. After all, by day, you worked for the New Jersey Devils as a social media girl but by night, you are one of the most viral booktokers on BookTok.

Currently you were doomscrolling on TikTok, waiting for your boyfriend, Nico, to come home from hanging at Jack’s and Luke’s place.

You suddenly come across a video of a couple doing the We Listen and Don’t Judge trend which you weren’t that completely unaware of because you had seen it on your for you page for the last few days.

“We listen and we don’t judge.” The couple both said before the woman started to talk.

“I sometimes don’t wash our fruit because I feel lazy.” She said, trying not to laugh.

The man burst into laughter. “Jesus we’re gonna get worms! We probably have worms in our bodies!”

“Well we listen and we don’t judge!” She clapped back and you began to laugh.

After about three minutes of watching that video, an idea popped in your head. You walked to your massive bookshelf that Nico assembled for you for Christmas last year and got out your copies of That Sik Luv, King of Wrath, King of Sloth, God of Wrath, and God of Malice from your shelf before walking back to the living room.

As soon as you walked back, you saw Nico walk in, taking his shoes and beanie off.

“Hey Schatz.” He said, wrapping his arms around your waist, giving you a kiss.

You pulled away to greet him back, Nico pouting a bit. “Hey baby. How was the hangout at Jack’s and Luke’s place.”

“Same old same old.” He said, his Swiss German accent being prominent.

You chuckled. “Why don’t you get changed.”

“Okay.” He gives you a quick kiss before walking into your shared bedroom before walking out in grey sweatpants and a devils hoodie.

“Hey Nico?”

“Yeah?” He asks.

“You love me right?”

“Are you breaking up with me?” He asked and you look at him gobsmacked.

“Okay no. I’m not breaking up with you-“

“Thank god.”

“I was literally gonna ask if you wanted to be in a TikTok baby.” You say.

Nico has been your biggest supporter and even though it was a mutual decision to keep your love life private, along with the occasional post of each other on your birthdays, anniversaries, and reposting posts of you guys in them.

“Oh okay. What TikTok?”

He plops down on the floor and looks at the pile of books on the coffee table. “What TikTok is it?”

You get your phone and open TikTok, going to make a new video, propping your phone on the little fake bonsai tree.

“Okay so we’re gonna do the we listen and we don’t judge trend except it’s with the books I read last month.” You say to your phone before stopping the recording.

“I say we listen and we don’t judge and tell you something about the book.” I explain.

“So I sit and look pretty?”

“Pretty much.” I answer.

I get out the first book, That Sik Luv, from the pile before clicking the button to record.

“We listen and we don’t judge,” you say, trying so hard not to laugh. “In this book, she’s in a religious cult, she doesn’t know that she is. Either way, the church that runs their town are trying to kill her so they hire this mercenary dude who becomes obsessed with her and stalks her and shows just how corrupt the church is. So one day, when she has to go to confession and he’s waiting for her in where she’s supposed to sit and they get their freak on when she’s giving her confession to the deacon and when he pulls back to curtain to pew pew her, he acts quickly and pew pews the deacon and they continue to get their freak on in front of the deacon’s now dead body.”

Nico mulls over what you said before saying, “I would read this book Schatzi.”

“What?!” You look at him horrified. “Like you’re not playing with me are you?”

“I mean I would skip over these kinda scenes but it seems interesting.”

“Oh my lord.” You muttered before grabbing King of Wrath.

“We listen and we don’t judge,” you said, forming her thoughts. “So in this book, both the characters are in an arranged marriage situation for reasons I can’t say. Anyway, one thing leads to another and he’s,” you mime fingering to him and he raises his eyebrows, “her and calls him an asshole and he replies with ‘I’m an asshole, yet youre dripping for me.’”

“Is this what you’re reading when your jaw is dropped?” He asks.

“Well like, you signed up for this.” You say.

“I love you too much.” He said, pulling you into him.

“I love you too.” You say and you grab King of Sloth.

“We listen and we don’t judge. So for context, her ex cheated on her-“

“He’s a dead man.” Nico fumes, his Swiss German accent becoming even more prominent.

“If you’ll let me finish.” You say, trying not to laugh at his outburst but you crack a smile. “Anyway, because of that, she has trust issues and when she’s telling him, so the mmc, her trust issues, instead of reassuring her, he sits her on her desk and goes to town with his mouth on her. He then proceeds to bend her over and goes to town on her and he puts duct tape over her mouth because she’s apparently loud.”

A beat of silence passes before Nico says, “If your ex cheated on you and you said that, I’d do the same.”

You whack the book on his head. “No you won’t.” You reply, both of you laughing.

“What, I need to remind him what he missed out on.” He responds chalantly.

You roll your eyes before grabbingGod of Wrath.

“We listen and we don’t judge. So in the first chapter, she wants to kill herself because her best friend killed himself and she on the edge of the cliff and she jumps, but then the mmc grabs onto her and he said that the only way he can save her life is if she performs a certain sexual act down there.”

“Like what do you mean?”

“He’s holding on to her and he’s like oh the only way I will save you if you do this certain sexual act down there for me.”

“And she does.”

“Well yeah. If we were in this exact situation, I’d do it because I value my life.” You respond.

“Okay true.” He says.

You get out your last book, God of Wrath, trying not to laugh.

“We listen and we don’t judge. In this book, she’s walking home at night with her headphones in and these two creeps are like following her but then, the mmc, who was stalking her, bears the guys up because in his eyes, he’s the only one that allowed to stalk her.”

“Oh.” He says. “That’s kinda stupid though.”

“What is?” You ask.

“Walking alone at night with headphones in. Like does she not have any sense?”

You burst into laughter at his words. “Literally the mmc asked her the exact question and it is pretty stupid.” You look at your phone before saying, “Guys, remember to not walk alone at night with headphones in. But also let me know if yall want a part 2.”

You hit the stop button and he pulls you further into him. “You know I love you, but this is the weirdest TikTok you made me do.”

You chuckle and kiss his jaw. “I know babe.”

[secretlysamcro]

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

Request: “The reader loses her job and needs money to pay her mothers medical bills, she goes to see Lyla who is her friend at diosa, Lyla feels awful about the situation speaks to Opie about offering you a job at diosa to pay for the bills and he speaks to the sons about it, They let her work there and Lyla shows her the ropes of the place, after a week the sons come for a for a visit after a long day to relax and let’s just say that the reader catches jaxs eye and requests to spend the night with her. (he and Tara aren’t together)”

Backstory: Desperate to cover your mother’s medical bills, you’re willing to do whatever it takes to make ends meet. Even if that means stepping into the world of escorting. Resulting in one of the Sons, taking a particular liking to you.

“Shit” you curse as you notice another letter has been slipped through the mail slot, your mother not bothering to pick it up, which can only mean one thing. More medical bills. It’s been over two weeks since you lost your job, and no matter how hard you’ve been trying, nowhere is hiring and it’s starting to feel impossible. Soon enough you’ll be unable to help cover your mother’s bills, and when that happens…everything falls apart.

Adding the letter to the growing stack of unopened envelopes, you make your way up to your room. With a heavy sigh, you throw yourself onto the bed, eyes fixated on the ceiling as your mind races, scrambling for your next move having no idea what to apply for or where to even start. That’s when your friend Lyla pops into your head.

Y:N: Hey Lyla is it ok if I drop in and see you at Diosa tomorrow? I might need some help.

You and Lyla had known each other for a while now, but ever since she took over at Diosa, your friendship had faded slightly. Not because either of you didn’t care, but because life got in the way. You had your mom to worry about, and she had Diosa to run. You let out a faint laugh as you wonder why you never thought sooner to see if Lyla had a job for you, but then again working somewhere like Diosa would be completely new territory.

Lyla: Hi y/n. Sure thing I have 2 help Ope in the morning but will b in after 12. Hope everything is ok?

You stand up, getting undressed for your shower, catching your reflection in the mirror. Your hands trailing over your body as a flood of thoughts race through your mind. Can I even do this? Can I really be an escort? You tilt your head, studying yourself, doubt lingering over you but so does determination.

You step up to the doors, hesitating ever so slightly. You’ve driven past this place hundreds of times but stepping inside, is something you never even considered. You take a deep breath as you push the door open and take your first step inside.

Stepping into Diosa Norte for the first time, you stop to take in your surroundings. Women moving effortlessly through the room, leading men upstairs, their different conversations causing a low hum. The environment is some what warm and inviting, definitely different to what you had expected.

“Hey, can I help you?” A dark haired man approaches you, a phone pressed to his ear, but his conversation on pause to acknowledge you. His arms have intricate tattoos placed on them.

“Hi, I’m uh… looking for Lyla?” You say, glancing around the room before landing your eyes back onto him.

“Lyla? Yeah, she had some things to take care of, you know, but she should be back in a minute. Go ahead, take a seat” he looks at his watch before gesturing you towards a very comfy looking sofa.

“Thanks” you reply, offering a polite smile.

The man returns to his call. “Jax, you know what your Moms like if she said…” his voice fading as he walks deeper into Diosa.

As your eyes scan the ‘XXX’ menu in front of you, your attention is diverted when you hear someone calling your name.“y/n? hey!” Lyla greets you with a warm smile as she steps inside. Approaching you for a hug. “Hope you haven’t been waiting long” her tone light as she rubs your shoulder in a sympathetic way. “Let’s go upstairs” she says, leading you to the staircase.

You follow her, as you get to the top of the stairs you cant help but hear the sound of muffled moans accompanied by laughter and the slight creak of bed springs from behind the closed doors. You inhale a large breath as the smallest bit of uncertainty creeps in. Is this really where you belong? Lyla looks over her shoulder, catching the slight uncomfortableness written over your face. “Yeah, I never said it was any quieter up here” she laughs, as she opens the office door in front of you both.

She shuts the door behind you, the sound of pleasure fading away into silence. The rooms feels quieter as the weight of your situation hangs in the air. Lyla leans back against the desk, her stare sharp as she looks towards you.

“Come on then, what’s up?” She asks casually, a hint of concern underneath. She could tell from your text that something is wrong. She knows a brief history about your mother and her medical issues. She knows things have been rough these past few years so she’s already assumed it’s something to do with that.

“Where do I even begin?” You say with a shaky laugh, your throat tightening as you try to hold back the tears.

Lyla watches you closely, sensing the weight of your situation and the vulnerability you’re trying to keep hidden. You take a deep breath, the tears settling for just a moment as you begin to explain.

You tell her everything, a few tears spilled in between. You tell her all about your mother’s mounting medical bills, the ones you can’t keep up with no matter how hard you try. Losing your job, making it even harder. You tell her how it feels like the world is on your shoulders and there’s no way out.

“I just… I don’t know who else to turn to…” you say quitley. ”…are you hiring here?” You look towards your feet, knowing Lyla knows this isn’t your usual scene.

Her face immediately softens, stepping closer, the concern in her face evident. “I’m so sorry” her words are gentle yet reassuring. She knows what it’s like to be stuck, backed in a corner with no way out.

“I’d need to talk to Jax and Nero, I can’t just hire on the spot, it’s a process, but I’ll do everything I can to help” Her words aren’t the solution you’re looking for, but you can only try…right?

“Look, keep looking around just incase but I’ll talk to Ope tonight, I’m sure I can get him to talk to Jax… okay?” She holds your hand now. Her touch sincere.

“Thanks Lyla” you squeeze her hand, truly thanking her, this really could be your last life line.

“You okay babe?” Opies voice is soft but filled with concern as he sits at the edge of the bed, watching as Lyla enters the room. She exhales slowly, her mind still caught up in y/n’s situation. She gets comfy as she straddles onto Opie, her voice steady but tinged with worry as she starts to explain.

“It’s y/n, she’s struggling. Her mom’s bills are piling up, she's lost her job it’s just a lot for her right now you know…” her expression filled with empathy for her friend.

After a long pause, hesitantly she speaks up. “Do you think Jax could help? Maybe hire her?” She doesn’t want to sound too desperate, she knows Opie and the club already have a lot on their plate.

Opie closes his eyes softly, considering the question. “I’ll talk to Jax, but it’s not up to me” he responds “you think she could handle that?”. Lyla nods slowly, knowing you’ll do whatever it takes. She appreciates his honestly, hoping there’s a slight chance Jax and Nero will agree.

Jax is taking in the fresh air, enjoying a rare moment of quiet before Opie walks up, flipping open his lighter and sparking a cigarette. He takes a long drag before speaking.

“Lyla’s got this friend, names y/n” his tone starting casual. “She’s been dealin’ with a lot, moneys tight and her mom’s not doing too good. She's trying but it ain’t easy, brother”.

Jax takes the cigarette from Opie's hand, before inhaling himself he mutters “you tellin' me this for a reason?” Knowing Opie isn’t one to bring up something unless it mattered.

Opie takes a deep breath. “Lyla's been on my ass about helping her out. Figured I’d ask before she chews my ear off”

Jax smirks “and what can I do about it?” He passes the cigarette back to Opie.

“You got any jobs open at Diosa?” His eyes lay on the ground as he takes another drag.

Jax tilts his head, considering the idea “Lyla think she’d be a good fit?”

“Lyla thinks she just needs a break” he lets out a dry chuckle. “Nice set of tits though” He adds, continuing to laugh.

Jax rubs his jaw, thinking it over. “I’ll talk to Nero, see what we can do” he finally says. “Looking at another woman’s tits” he shakes his head, clicking his tongue in a mocked disapproving tone.

“Appreciate it” Opie nods, flicking his cigarette away.

“No promises” Jax insists, as they head back into the clubhouse.

Jax pulls up to his mom’s house, turning off the engine before stepping inside. Gemma and Nero are standing in the kitchen, coffee in hand. He leans down behind his Mom, pressing a kiss to her head.

“Hey ma” he says softly.

“Hey baby” Gemma says raising her hand to soothe his face.

Moving over to Nero, he pats him on the shoulder as he passes by, taking a seat at the table. “Wassup homes?” He smirks.

“You tell me mano” he says, watching Jax over the rim of his cup. “You look like you about to drop some shit in my lap”.

Jax exhales, rubbing the back of his neck “need a favor” he smirks just a little. “Lylas got a friend. Girls in a tight spot, needs money to help her mom or some shit. Looking for a bit of work. Lyla thinks she might be a good fit at Diosa” he waits for Neros response.

Nero takes a seat, leaning back in the chair. “She got experience?”.

Jax rolls his shoulders, “not sure” he admits. “I don’t have time to meet her myself, clubs got me running shit all over. Think you can handle it?”.

Nero studies Jax, making his own mind up. “And you trust Lyla’s judgment on this?”

“Lyla knows what she’s doing when it comes to the talent, and if she’s not cut out for it, no hard feelings send her packing” Jax smiles “I trust your judgement too” he fiddles with the toothpick in his mouth.

Nero nods, a small breath leaving his nose, like he’s already regretting his decision. He nods anyway “Have her come by tomorrow, I’ll check her out”

“Thank you brother” Jax responds as Nero shakes his head with a chuckle.

“Yeah, yeah” he waves his hand “just don’t make a habit out of it, Diosa ain’t a damn charity”

Jax’s pushes his chair backwards, preparing to stand up. “Tell that to the girls paying your bills”.

Nero just laughs, shaking his head as Jax approaches his Mom. They exchange a few quick words before he leaves her with another kiss, signalling a small nod to Nero and then leaving, back into his own world of chaos.

As you walk into Diosa, your heart is racing, even more than the first time. Knowing you’re actually here to get the ball rolling. The scent of perfume and something sweet fills the air as you try to push your nerves down, the anxiety building in your chest.

Lyla spots you almost immediately, as she leans casually against the bar. “Hey girl, you ready to meet Nero?” Her eyes sparkling with reassurance.

“Hey” you say in response, swallowing your nerves and nodding as you followed her over to where Nero was stood. He was leaning against a wall near the back of the reception room, arms crossed scanning the place with calm authority. That’s when you realise he’s the same guy from the other day who you spoke to when you had first walked in.

As you got closer, Nero’s eyes flickered to you, a small hint of recognition lighting them up. “You… were here the other day right? Waiting for Lyla” you took a steady breath before speaking.

“Yeah that was me…I don’t really know what I’m doing but I’m willing to learn, anything and I’m down” you practically plead.

Nero doesn’t respond straight away, he looks you up and down his expression unreadable. Finally he speaks. “Experience matters here mama…” his eyes soften ”…but having Lyla vouch for you? That means a lot… I’ll give you a shot. You got a week to prove to me how bad you want this… think of it as a you know, a sort of trial run” his eyes smile but his mouth doesn’t move.

“Lyla will show you the ropes and shit” he goes to walk off but turns round suddenly “it ain’t all about sex though mama, you remember that. Some of these men, want connection” he flickers his fingers in the air mimicking fireworks.

You smile at Nero, mouthing a silent ‘thank you’ he gives the smallest nod before turning back to his business, already moving on from the conversation. Lyla rests a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “you got this, okay?” she says as she squeezes you slightly.

Lyla walks you through the dimly lit halls, gesturing to the different rooms as she explains what (or who) goes down in each. “I’ll show you how things work, what the guys expect, what to look out for and all that stuff” and that’s exactly what she does, no sugar coating it either.

“Before we go any further, let’s talk safety” she says, her tone switching to professional. “First rule. You don’t do anything you’re not comfortable with, ever! I don’t care how much money they offer or how sweet they talk, if you ain’t feeling it, you say no, got it?” You nod, her tone coming down a notch.

“Second… protection, always. No exceptions. If they try to argue, tell them to take that shit somewhere else, every room has one of these alarms, use it if you need to. Someone will be up straight away” she then hands you a small bag full of condoms. “We keep these stocked, you’ll never run out. Every top drawer will be full of them, make sure they’re wrapped before anything happens” she pauses tilting her head, “you on birth control?”

You laugh, hesitating for a second, all of this feeling a bit surreal before you answer “yeah”, looking through the condom bag, different brands, sizes, styles and color.

“Good. If you ever need anything, pills, a doctor, whatever just come to me okay, no shame, no judgement” she straightens up, “you’ve got a week, I have faith in you sweetie” she says, giving you a sense of hope.

She gives you another small smile, seeing the nerves flow through you. “You won’t be getting down to the good stuff tonight, there’s a room just down there, clothes shoes and everything you’ll need, all different sizes. Find something that suits you, okay?” She says, you’re starting to feel at ease now. “Tonight’s about getting comfortable. We’ll have you mingle a bit, meet some of the girls, chat with the guys keep them happy with conversation while the others handle the rest… how does that sound?” She asks, leaning against the door frame, noting that you don’t look as tense as before.

“I think I’m good” you laugh, taking another deep breath, mentally preparing yourself for tonight.

“Go on then, go find something to wear” she says with a laugh, pointing you to the room a few doors down.

Despite the nerves that held you back in the beginning, as the days go by you were starting to feel much more comfortable in your skin. It hadn’t been easy, but you were beginning to see just how well you were adapting to this new routine. Everyday felt a little smoother, and even though you had your moments of doubt, they weren’t as regular as before.

At first, everything had been a blur of awkwardness, especially your first client. The nerves were overwhelming and the experience was uncomfortable at best. But after that, something shifted. The second client was easier, all tension gone as soon as you found your hidden confidence. By the third, you realised Nero was right, it wasn’t all about sex, this guy just wanted to be listened too, be held as he cried about the dramas he was having with his wife. It was pretty sad actually.

Tonight, as the last day of your week, it was your chance to prove to Nero and the others that you were ready and that you wanted to stick around. There would be no turning back after today.

Jax stepped into Diosa with the rest of the club. It had been a long day, the kind of day that made you want to shut everything else out a lose yourself for a while. Diosa being the perfect place to do that. No questions asked, no drama, just the freedom to let off some pent up steam.

Jax slid onto one of the bar stools, catching the eye of Lyla behind the bar. He gave her a nod, and she waved back. His attention is shifting around the room as the rest of the guys settled in. His eyes finding you immediately.

You’re leant against the furthest side of the bar talking with a few of the other girls you had made friends with this past week. His gaze lingered, drawn to you without even realising why. He leant back on his stool trying to shake the feeling off, it’s a rare thing for him to feel something so quick for a woman he barely knew.

Nero, moving into the stool beside him. “I see you eyeing up the new girl” he laughs, waving one of the other girls attention for a drink.

Jax doesn’t take his eyes off you, watching as you laugh and engage in conversation. He couldn’t explain it but he felt drawn to you. “She new?” He questions.

Nero chuckles “you serious?” His eyebrow twitches “that’s y/n, the one you wanted to help out….” He says shaking his head.

Jax let out a dry laugh, rubbing his face “shit… that’s her?” He remembers the conversation he had with Opie, about Lylas friend needing help, but with him being too wrapped up in club shit he never had the time to actually sit down and meet her himself, passing the task onto Nero, that is until tonight.

Nero's grin grows wider “No shit mano, that’s your employee though can’t keep staring at her like you’re about to eat her alive”

Jax laughs, a yearning look in his eyes. “let’s call it quality control”.

Nero, shaking his head “sure, sure, but you might wanna think twice about sleeping with your workers” he raises his eyebrows.

Jax’s smirk faded just a little as he looks over to you once more, a whole new set of thoughts running through his mind. “Wish me luck” he says, standing from the seat and patting Nero on the back.

“That boy ain’t ever gonna learn” Nero muttered as he watched Jax make his way towards you.

Both you and Lyla are unaware of his approach. He took a moment, sweeping over you, trying to read you. You looked comfortable enough, but he could sense something slight in your posture, the way you carried yourself like you were still deciding if you belonged here.

Lyla clocks him first, smirking as she makes eye contact just over your shoulder. “Look who finally decides to show up, huh” she teases lightly. “y/n, meet Jax Teller. The other half of Diosa” she smiles.

For the first time, your eyes meet, and for a brief moment, the noise of Diosa fades into the background. There was something there. A pull neither of you could explain.

You held his stare, refusing to shrink under the weight of it. Instead, you offer a tender smile. “I just wanted to say... thank you...you know for the opportunity” your words stammering slightly as you try to hold his gaze.

A slow smirk grew from the corners of Jax’s mouth, something unreadable you noticed in his eyes. “No problem...good to finally put a face to the name” He gives you a small nod.

Opie walks up, wrapping his arms around Lyla from behind, whispering something into her ear. Whatever it was made her blush and smile. Opie nodded at you with a friendly smile “Hey y/n”.

He then slaps Jax on the shoulder. “Catch you later brother” Jax smirks in response, knowing exactly what their about to do. With that, Opie and Lyla excuse themselves from the conversation, leaving you and Jax alone, the sudden quiet between you, forcing a conversation.

Jax leans against the bar, getting closer to you now. “So...” he began, his tone smooth and casual “How’s your first few days been?” an edge of curiosity behind his tone.

You turn your whole body to face him now, he takes in what you’re wearing. A lacy black two piece hugging your body, with a long robe, feathers hanging off at the arm sleeves and its base veil, its soft fabric catching the light as you settle in your seat.

“It was... a lot to take in, but I...” you stop mid sentence as you realised what you’d just said, the unintentional innuendo slipping out from your mouth. Jax’s smile beaming, clearly catching on.

“Not... like that” you say quickly, laughing through your embarrassment. "not that it wasnt...but...I'm just gonna stop talking now…" you try to save yourself

Jax’s laugh grows louder, his shoulders dancing up and down with amusement. "It's okay, you ain’t gotta explain yourself” he teased, sensing how flustered you just got.

“So you busy tonight or...” he questions wondering how long he has left to talk to you.

Running your finger over the rim of your glass before drinking it, you begin to respond “Depends…if someone asks for me, then yes, if not then no, I'll just be down here floating around” You let your eyes trace over Jax’s form, a deliberate smile creeping onto your face.

“What about you?…” you ask, treading lightly, your tone low but teasing. “…you got a favorite girl here or...”

Jax’s eyes light up ever so slightly as a grin spreads across his face at your question. He chuckles whilst shaking his head. “I don’t mix business with pleasure” he says softly, as if he’s not entirely letting his guard down, not wanting to give away his mission of the night.

You let out a laugh, clearly not buying his answer. Before you go to question how he eases his tension, a client walks in. You glance at Jax with a mischievous glimmer in your eye. “See ya around…boss” you say, your tone playful, before making your way over to the man.

His gaze sharpens, the faintest hint of jealousy creeping in as he watches you sway towards the new comer. He continues watching intently as your figure moves, the sheer fabric of the robe barely concealing you as the feathers caressing the edge of the lower veil trail behind you. A restless twitch stirs just below his belt, his eyes sharpening as he takes you in. His eyes don’t leave the interaction as he watches you welcome the new client into Diosa.

Jax grits his teeth, his grip tightening around his beer as he watches you intently. His eyes narrow when the man moves in too close. Jax can see now that the man is completely intoxicated, swaying and mumbling things that don’t make sense.

You look left and right, clearly getting uncomfortable now, his breath is heavy and he’s pushing too close, not taking the hint.

Jax groans, pushing off from the bar and striding towards the both of you, every muscle in his body tense with readiness.

“We got a problem?” Jax’s voice is deep, causing the air around them to thicken. Nero, who is currently talking to an employee begins to steal looks almost as if he realises something is off. Chibs doing the same as he’s sitting with a Diosa girl.

You turn to him, thankful of his presence. “He’s too drunk to be in here” you say, looking back at the drunken figure. “I’ve told him hes gotta got but he’s insisting”.

The drunk looks around in your direction “just... s-suck my dick like I asked... you wh...” he hiccups in between words “...you whore”. He sneers, leaning closer again.

Before you can react, Jax is on him. His fist connects with the man’s jaw with a sickening force. He stumbles back, but not for too long. He retaliates, throwing a wild punch that catches Jax in the side of his face. Nero and Chibs appear from nowhere, rushing to break them both apart as the fight escalates.

The others upstairs, completely oblivious, lost in their own worlds of pleasure, as you experience your first down side of working at Diosa.

It doesn’t take long for the dust to settle. Nero throwing the man out, but not before adding a few punches of his own. Jax touches the cut now bleeding from above his eyebrow. His jaw tightens with lingering anger as he notices the blood. Without a word, he turns and walks off into one of the rooms, slamming the door behind him.

Nero gives you a once over, his look full of concern. “You good, Mija?” He rubs your shoulder gently. He’s impressed with how you handled that. No panic, no drama, just calm and collected. Jax though, will be hearing Neros thoughts later.

“Yeah, i’m okay, he was just too much…sorry” you admit, Nero nods in total agreement.

“We’re all about safety mama, don’t apologise. You did the right thing” he lets you know, before walking back over to Chibs.

You hesitate for a moment, the adrenaline still rushing through your veins. As the others continue talking, dissecting what had just gone on, you decide to quietly slip away and check on Jax, easing open the door he just slammed shut.

Jax was sat on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. His once perfected hair now messy giving him more of a rough edge. His knuckles were raw, and a small trickle of blood ran from a cut just above his eyebrow. He exhaled deeply, lost in thought, but second he noticed you, he straightened. His blue eyes locking onto yours.

“You good?” He asks, his voice steady. Scanning you for any sign of distress.

You scoff just a little, “I should be asking you that” you say, walking further into the room, closing the door behind you.

“You could, but I asked first” he smiled, seeing you approach. You roll your eyes in response, feeling the way your chest tightens as his gaze lingered on you. He looked at you as if you were more than a woman he barely knew.

You don’t respond with words, you were too busy grabbing a paper towel from the nightstand and wetting it with some of the bottled water, the sound of soft rustling coming from the towel seems to fill the room as he tracks you with each step you take.

You kneel down in front of him, parting his legs slightly with your own. You were close to him now, a little too close, but neither of you seemed to mind. Your focus mainly on the cut above his eyebrow, his strong scent hovering around you, sweat, leather and smoke tinged with his personal smell. His hands are resting on the bed beside him, as if he was trying to maintain his composure. You could tell he was hurting but he wasn’t one to make a scene of it.

“Hold still” you mumble, as you dab the towel gently against the cut. His body shifting slightly in response to the pain. His eyes never leaving yours, except for the occasional quick glance down at your chest, so close he could almost feel the heat radiating off you.

“You always this caring for the guys you barely know?” He asks, his voice playful and almost teasing.

“You always checking out the tits of the person patching you up?” You shoot back with a smirk as you continues to clean the blood away from his face.

He falters for a second, a bit of colour rising up his face but he shakes it off just as fast. “Lyla told Ope about your mom, the bills and everything” he studies your reaction “That’s the only reason you’re here? Wanting the job?”

You finish cleaning the cut, then press your hands into his thighs as you push yourself up, the warmth of his skin seeping through his jeans. His eyes linger downwards, watching the way your hands move against him. “I’m not exactly here for the exercise” you laugh, but there’s a hint of something guarded in your voice.

He catches the way your shoulders tense slightly, he doesn’t want to push you any further, he tilts his head, taking you in. But he just can’t help himself. “Can I just ask you one more thing?” His voice is softer now, somewhat sympathetic. He doesn’t wait for you to answer “if you get the job and make enough money, will you quit?”

You pause slightly, giving him a small shrug “that’s the plan, but I’m not sure how long it’ll take for me to make what I need”

“How much we talkin’?” His expression unreadable.

You shake your head inhaling another deep breath “too much to count” you decide to open up a little “I need five grand by the end of the month” you sigh saying the words out loud making it feel even more impossible to achieve it.

He doesn’t say anything, just runs a hand over his jaw, taking in everything you’ve said. The silence making your chest tighten again, so you decide to end the conversation before it gets even deeper.

“You’re all cleaned up” you say, brushing your hands off against each other as you turn towards the door.

His voice stopping you before you reach the handle “where you going?”

You look over your shoulder, “back out there, someone’s gotta be there to welcome them, pour drinks and all that” you laugh, confused as to where exactly he thought you would be going.

“What if I don’t want you to leave yet?” His voice dips lower, a look in his eyes as if his mission is about to succeed.

You turn towards him fully, raising your eyebrow just a little. “Then you’d have to do like the rest…and pay for my company” you smile cockily, your words teasing but clear.

He chuckles, clearly impressed by how easily you slip into the role of the confident woman who knows her worth. With a half smile he goes into his pocket, still not breaking the eye contact. He pulls out a thick roll of cash, tossing it onto the bed next to him with casual confidence. There’s no arrogance in the way that he does it, it’s more of a silent agreement, a sign that he’s more than willing to pay if it means spending more time with you. Your pulse quickens, then as if making a decision that could complicate things, you reach and turn the lock.

You take slow steps back towards him, letting your robe slip off your shoulders and pooling behind you, the motion looking effortless. Jax watches on, his tongue flicking over his lips as the anticipation darkens his gaze. Then, you kneel down once again. Undoing the laces of his airforces, slipping them off one by one.

Your fingers press into the arches of his feet, kneading out the tension that resides there. He exhales deeply, the sound rough and full of relief. “Damn” he mutters under his breath, leaning back onto his elbows as he watches you with his hungry eyes.

You smile in response, your eyes matching his. Working your thumbs over a tight spot before your hands start trailing upwards, slowly and deliberately. His breath hitches, as you reach for his belt buckle, undoing it with ease. You pull back for a moment, standing up straight and extending your hand to Jax with confidence, almost as if you were daring him to join you. He takes your hand in his. His fingers curling around yours as he stands. You kick off your heels, your height declining a little, as he looks down at you with his dominant presence.

You step closer, reaching for his kutte as you slide it off of his broad shoulders, placing it carefully on the back of the chair behind you. He watches you, not a word leaving his lips as you begin to take control of the situation.

A look of appreciation and desire in his eyes. Up until now, you have never allowed yourself to feel anything for any of the clients you’d been with, whether it was sexual or not. You’d kept them locked away. But with Jax, it's something you can’t ignore.

You slowly pull his crisp white tee over his head, revealing his muscular frame, slick with sweat from the events of today. Your fingers trace the ‘Abel’ tattoo on his chest, and he can feel the curiosity in the way you look at it. “my son” he says quietly, his voice carrying a tenderness you haven't heard from him yet. Your hands move lower, brushing over the rough scars left behind from the stabbings just below his ribs, the same thoughtful expression on your face. Without having to say a single word, he answers you. “prison” he mumbles, his voice almost sounding detached, as if its everyday you meet someone with the same scars.

You know nothing about Jax on a personal level, but of course you knew of SAMCRO with Lyla being your only real connection to the club, and that’s enough to keep you aware, but from a safe distance.

Over the past few nights, you’ve learned not to ask questions, not to pry into the lives of your clients but to just go with the flow. And right now, that’s exactly what you intend to do.

You catch your bottom lip between your teeth as you look at him, your hands picking up where they left off. Gripping the waistband of his jeans, you give them a firm tug. He kicks them off without any hesitation. With a slow and deliberate push, you guide him back until he’s bracing himself against the bed. Climbing on top of him, you move upwards, your hands trailing his thighs. You start by pressing messy, open mouthed kisses along his neck, feeling how his body reacts beneath you.

His breath fastens, his hands coming up to touch you in the middle of your back as your lips trail lower. Turning your attention to his boxers, you kiss him over the fabric, letting the tension build as his eyes lock onto you with raw desire. His hips shift beneath you, betraying his need for more. You slide his boxers down, revealing him full as he springs free from the cloth. Your approving eyes meet his, and the way you look at him has him swallowing hard.

Your eyes examine him with admiration, taking in every detail like his dick has been sculpted just for you. He stands thick and ready, his precum catching the light, shimmering under the soft glow from above. Every pulse and twitch letting you know just how ready he is. The moment your lips wrap around him, he sucks in a sharp breath, tensing beneath you. His hands move, not knowing where to place them fighting the urge to grab hold of you, to guide you deeper. You move your head with a slow and steady rhythm, taking your time before your lips finally meet the sensitive skin at his base. The feeling of his shaven pubes brushing against your upper lip. You take all of him whole and he cant hold back any longer. His fingers grip the back of your head, pulling you in closer, leaving you breathless as you struggle for air.

You grunt, as he releases the pressure, finally allowing you to breathe again. A trail of saliva drips from your mouth, falling back onto him. “Fuuuuck” he mutters, his body instinctively arching towards you. You let out a teasing laugh, a proud smile curling on your lips, pleased with yourself for taking him all in at once.

“Come here” he instructs, his voice low and seductive. Sitting up, he gently guides you closer. His fingers curling around your chin as he pulls you into him. His lips crash against yours, both urgent and demanding. He can taste himself lingering on your tongue. Each movement driving you wild, the sensation making your pussy salivate as it begins to drip for him.

Jax looks at you, his voice deep. “You got anything?” You point to the top drawer next to the bed in response. He moves quickly, opening it, his hands focused as he searches.

You watch him closely, your breath catching in your throat at he rolls it down with care, his every movement precise, the tension thickening with every passing second.

As soon as he finishes, he’s on you, grabbing you with a force that takes you by surprise. He lays you down on your back, his body pressing against yours. He can feel the wetness on his thigh as he uses it to guide your legs apart.

“you look so fuckable right now” he says, leaning back on his knees as he prepares to enter. He teases you gently, stroking his cock as he taps it against your wanting clit. Your jaw clenches with eagerness, “Fuck me then”. Jax did not need to be told twice.

He slowly enters you, as you let out an involuntary gasp at the sensation of fullness he’s causing. There's a lot of him to take in. “you good?” he laughs, checking in with you before he continues. When you nod, he increases his pace, his movements becoming more powerful.

You try to form words, to let Jax know he’s doing a good job, but you’re unable to form any, only short breathy pants and moans. Jax has a smug look on his face, enjoying the effect he’s having on you.

“You usually fuck your boss?” he asks, his voice authoritative as he continues to drive into you, his blonde hair grazing against your ear as he nestles his head into your neck.

You grab the back of his head, pulling it so that you make eye contact “Only if they seem worth it” you huff in response.

Jax cant help but laugh, even more turned on by your response. He quickly pulls out, only to turn you around guiding you onto your stomach, facedown. The audacity in your words fuelling his assertiveness. He grabs you by the waist, taking hold of you possessively, firmly forcing you to arch your back into a submissive position. “It’s like that is it? darlin’” his sudden aggression making you even wetter than you once were.

Your face is pressed into the pillow, but you manage to look slightly to the left, sneaking glances at him over your shoulder. His messy hair falls across his face as you watch his eyes roam your body, his expression dark.

He enters you again quickly, watching intensely as your ass crashes against his pelvic bone, sending waves through your skin. His hand reaches over pushing you down further into the pillow, the sound of your bodies meeting sounding like a round of applause.

Together, you move in perfect sync, your bodies working together to bring one another closer towards the edge. The room echoes with a mix of moans and gasps, each sound a testament to the intense pleasure you’re both currently experiencing.

Your hands reach back, spreading your cheeks giving Jax a newer sensation as he pounds in and out of you, he almost cant believe his eyes, how vulnerable you’re being for him. “Good girl” he groans, the slight difference in position making your walls tighten around him.

Jax, the man of many positions, now lies beneath you, the roles reversed. He can’t take his eyes off you. You’re the one in control once again. There’s a way about how he’s looking at you, taking in every moment unable to take his eyes off you. He’s lost in you, the way you look, the way you move, fucking beautiful - inside and out.

You hover above him, just out of reach, teasing him and keeping him wanting more. His hands grip at your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh, but you manage to stay in control. Loving the way his breath becomes rough with anticipation. Without warning, you take him in again, slamming down hard and deep.

Another moan leaving his mouth, his whole body tense again as the pleasure takes over. Your fingers glide over his body, as you ride the aftershocks surging through him.

Your hands are at his neck now, your body shielding his. He moves his hands, grabbing you by the ass with one and the other cradling your head in place, keeping you where he needs you, by his actions you can tell he’s used to being in control and taking what he wants.

He lifts his knees up gaining his own balance, his feet digging into the bed before moving his hips furiously underneath you, curving through your walls, each thrust forcing a gasp from your mouth.

“Ja- Jax…fuck…I’m gonna” you confess, unable to actually get the words out.

He smiles at your confession, his grip firm as he continues to hold you in place. Pressing desperate kisses onto your open mouth. “That’s…what I like… to hear” he mumbles, his words getting lost as you whimper into him.

His thrusts are getting slower, more sporadic. He’s close, and he can tell by the way your body trembles above him that you are too. His grip shifts once more. The hand placed on your ass, is now pushing firmly against your lower back, forcing him deeper. The pressuare sends you spiralling, you cry out as your body convulses around him, causing his cock to pump out cum.

He’s panting heavily along with you, his head buried onto your shoulder, his eyes wincing in pleasure. “y/n…fuc-” he pleads into your ear.

You don’t hear him of course you’re too busy wrapped up in your own climax. Your fists balling at the sheets beneath you, your head finding solace in the crevice of Jax’s shoulder. He releases the tension in his body as he throws his head back against the pillow, breathing hard with a satisfied smile on his face. He waits for you to come down and join him.

As the last waves of pleasure fade, you lift your head, meeting Jax’s eyes with a breathless laugh. Your bodies still tangled together, the heat dancing off the both of you.

With a slow movement, you slide off him, removing the condom carefully in the process. You tie it off and toss it into the nearby bin before crashing back down beside him.

Both your chests rise and fall in sync, the silence between you tessellating with satisfaction. Jax turns his head, a full smirk playing at his lips as he watches you, “Think I changed my mind” he admits, lazily resting his hands behind his head.

You raise your brow slightly, your breaths finally in regular rhythm again. “About what?”.

“Think you’re my first favorite” his smirk deepens, as he grabs his cigarettes off the side and lighting one up, the flame flickers, causing a slight glow against his face. You playfully smack his chest before retrieving your scattered clothing and getting them back on.

“Where you goin now?” He questions, a neediness in his voice, but you can tell he’s joking with it.

“What? Did you expect me to stay and cuddle” you respond tying the feathered robe back around your waist.

“Would have been nice” he chuckles, running a hand through his hair before standing up. The cigarette clinging to his lips as he exhales a stream of smoke, taking his time getting dressed as if he had nowhere else to be.

You watch him pull on his clothes, a small curve to your lips. Once he’s finished, you grab his kutte, stepping up behind him and sliding it over his shoulders, putting his pride back where it belonged.

“Thank you” he uttered, adjusting himself. He then spots the rolled up cash on the floor, the same stack he had tossed earlier.

With a lazy bend, he picks it up, handing it to you. Then, without a word, he reaches into his pocket and pulls another roll out, pressing it into your hand. His own hand lingering a little longer than it needed too.

The weight of the cash feels heavier, much more than it should as your fingers tighten around the stacks. A quick mental count tells you it’s close to four thousand, way more than you had expected. You look up at him, your eyes flickering with disbelief.

“Jax?… this is… a lot” you say, shocked but thankful.

Jax shrugs, feeling generous. “It’s a start..,handle what you need to” he says, like it’s nothing.

You stare at the money he had placed in your hand. Between this and what you’d already made this week, you now have enough to cover this months debt, something that less than an hour ago felt impossible.

Jax observes how you accept his help, with a slight tilt of his head he says “See you Monday night” throwing you a wink before you could even say thank you out loud, strolling out like he didn’t just change everything.

Nero glances up as Jax walks over, a knowing look in his eyes. “So… how’d your test run go?”

Jax can’t help but grin in response, flicking his cigarette into the ashtray upon the bar. “She’s got the job” he tells Nero confidently, no doubt about it.

Nero chuckles, a low sound of understanding as he pats Jax on the back “didn’t take you long to make up your mind, eh ese?”

Jax laughs, a low but genuine sound. “What can I say?” he says, throwing his hands up in a dramatic gesture, his shoulders lifting with the movement. “I’m a simple man” the familiar smirk spread across his face.

Photos & gifs are not mine - apart from the one with Jax's booty, had to go find the episode to make that one hehe.

Loved writing this, I know I say this every time lol. Also, sorry it took so long, I initially planned for this to be SO much shorter cause I feel like I may be writing too much? I just get carried away I cant help it lol.

To everyone who's sent a request, I'm not ignoring, I'm just working at them one by one, thank you for ALL! of them I'm excited to do them all, plus you all got some good ideas man I love it!

Jax Teller Masterlist

xoxo secretly samcro

[malevoreenthusiast]

Parasocial Predator

Hey all! Had this idea earlier and quickly wrote this out. The celebrity I used is Alec Benjamin (a pop artist you should definitely check out), but they’re really interchangeable with any other celebrity. As always, send any requests you may have and let me know how I can improve! Enjoy.

The first thing I need to get out of the way is that in no way is this a parasocial relationship. Alec knows who I am: he’s liked my comments on his posts, I met him at a meet and greet once, and he’s seen me drive through his neighborhood a couple of times when I make sure he stays safe. One time, Alec even responded to one of my comments on Instagram with, “I love you, thanks for the support!” which validates that, in fact, this is a very real relationship that Alec and I have forged over the past several years. He knows who I am—his number one fan—and I know he loves me. Unfortunately, as a celebrity, he can’t show that, so that brings us to today. My plan, which will go off without a hitch, is to meet Alec in his tour bus in order to charm him and finally get together with him.

I’ve followed him on tour, eventually picking out his tour buses on the road and the one in which he stayed after several weeks. It was early afternoon, and he was supposed to perform tonight at a sold out show. He was such a rockstar. That’ll be the second thing I do: congratulate him for being so great. First though, I wanted to ask which of his songs I’ve inspired because I can think of at least ten. He really is such a charmer. A huge portion of the fanbase doesn’t deserve to listen to him and how great he is, which is really unfortunate because Alec is too nice to tell them otherwise. Still, I’ve got a plan to sweep him off his feet and have us be together forever.

I waited quietly in the back of the bus. Alec and his team had stopped at a rest stop somewhere off a highway to go to the bathroom and get snacks and stretch their legs before finishing the journey. This absence from the bus meant that I could easily sneak on when nobody was looking. Honestly, I think Alec knew I would be coming because he left his sweatshirt for me on the seat of the bus. I put it on and took a deep whiff, smelling him so purely that I sighed in deep, deep pleasure. I got lost in his scent so much that I didn’t even notice Alec get back on the bus before anyone else.

“Who are you?” he asked, uncertainty in his voice. I knew he was cheeky, but playing this hard to get so early? Come on, sweetie, you can do better than that!

“Alec!” I bellowed and raced towards him in a hug. “It’s good to see you, gosh, you look so much better in person up-close,” I brushed his hair back and held him close to me. He gave me a wide-eyed look, probably in shock because he didn’t expect to meet me so soon. I get it, though, and I wasn’t going to hold it against him. I would be at a loss for words too if I had suddenly met the love of my life on the tour bus.

I positioned myself at the entrance to the bus so nobody could get in and come between us. Alec’s eyes shifted out the curtained windows, most likely making sure that nobody would see us in this illicit relationship. All of Alec’s trashy fans would probably get too jealous, so it only makes sense that he would make sure that no one else was around who could witness this. The next thing he did was somewhat confusing, but he brought out his phone and dialed a number. I could see he was shaking a little, and my fierce protectiveness for Alec kicked in. I strode up quickly to my beloved and snatched the phone out of his hand. He was calling his security (probably to make sure no one attacked us while we were in here), and he was scared as a lamb! 

“Oh, Alec,” I hugged him tight, smelling him more closely now, “it’s okay, let me take care of you. Here, I have just the thing.”

Now, before I tell you what I was about to do, let me explain myself. Alec is an amazing singer/songwriter, and the world doesn’t appreciate him as well as I do. Alec is also on the smaller side, so many dangerous things could hurt him and impact his ability to do what he most loves after me: music. To this end, I thought: “what better way to protect my love than keep him close to me at all times?” So, on that thought, I kissed him softly on the mouth and stretched my jaw over and around his head. He instantly started wildly thrashing, probably because my baby was excited to be in my stomach. I gulped heavily, bunching his shoulders up and sending them down my gullet. I could feel him yell with what I assumed was pleasure and excitement at being in his new boyfriend’s belly. My saliva soaked through his clothes, as admittedly, I had been wanting to do this for several years now, ever since I first saw him in concert. Now that my dreams had come true and he wanted to be in a relationship with me, I could finally do this! I swallowed again, sending Alec’s small torso down into my mouth. He really wasn’t that big (which is why he needed someone larger than him—me—to protect him), but he fit perfectly in my gut. I could already feel his head and shoulders spill into my stomach chamber, which felt really nice. Alec was wriggling already from the inside of my gut, unable to keep his excitement in, most likely. I choked down more of him quickly, as the position he was in was probably making some blood rush towards his head, and I was not going to facilitate any misfortune upon my sweet angel of a boyfriend. Slurping up his legs like noodles, I took off Alec’s shoes and gulped the rest of the singer into my stomach. It ballooned out heavily, but my six pack was something I was more than okay with parting with if it meant I got to be next to Alec at all times of the day. Alec’s sweatshirt clung on to my chest, but my belly was now far too big to be contained by the piece of clothing. Still, I wore it happily, knowing it was a gift from Alec.

“What are you doing?” Alec shouted from inside. “Let me go! Please!” 

I rubbed my belly and wore a pained expression. My sweet angel didn’t realize that this was for the best for him right now. Even though Alec was squirming around, making the heft of my gut sway and wobble slightly, I couldn’t help but notice how wonderfully he looked attached to my middle. Though, all of his movements were kicking up a lot of gas.

BBBUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPP “---Sweetheart, please,” I chided. “Calm down in there. Let’s get you back home, okay?”

Some of you may believe that moving in together this soon is a little crazy, and to that I’d simply tell you that you don’t understand the bond Alec and I share. We’re (quite literally) inseparable. I got back into my car that I used to follow him on the road, and, somewhat uncomfortably, I maneuvered around my seat until my belly wasn't pressing up against the steering wheel. This would probably have to be how I drove from now on, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. Love is full of sacrifices, you know. I spoke to Alec softly on the way home, asking him about his life so far, childhood memories, and all of the mundane, beautiful things about living. He seemed reluctant to answer, but I chalked that up to him being tired from a long day. Now that he was in my warm, comforting belly though, he would be able to rest peacefully and sleep as much as he wanted. 

Along the drive home, I bought some McDonalds, which wasn’t the healthiest for my baby, but on the road, you make do. I swallowed a few of the burgers whole, wrapper and all so Alec could have some dinner in his own tummy while I had mine already in there. Thinking about it now, it would be a little uncomfortable for Alec to be with me while I digested my other food (that’s what happened with my old roommate. He didn’t want Alec living with us, so he had to go), but again, love requires sacrifices. My belly was really noisy with the sounds of gurgling and churning, but I knew Alec wouldn’t digest. Still, that didn’t mean my belly didn’t want to assimilate him into my body. He was simply too important to digest, though. An idle hand rubbed my boyfriend-filled belly for the rest of the night-ride home with pure love and affection.

Getting back to my apartment, I undressed and flopped onto bed with Alec. The movement jostled my stomach heavily, waking him back up. I think he was having a bad dream about being captive and kidnapped, which frightened me tremendously, but that is precisely why Alec is safer in my stomach than the real world. People are crazy out there, and it could’ve easily happened to Alec. I rubbed my belly soothingly and told him time and time again that this was where he belonged, that I would treat him right, and no harm would come to him. Eventually, I drifted off to sleep, kissing my own belly and looking forward to Alec and I’s new life together.