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buckets-and-trees · 30 days

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Obsidian Stain and Sin

Characters/Pairings: soft!dark Ari Levinson x Female!Reader, soft!dark Curtis Everett x Female!Reader, Ari x Reader x Curtis Word Count: 8.1k Summary: You've thought of getting your first tattoo for quite a while. When you walk into Obsidian Stain Studio, you experience services beyond anything you bargained for.

Content/Warnings: tattooing/needles, DUBIOUS CONSENT, explicit smut, semi-public sex, vaginal fingering, kissing, anal play/rimming (female receiving), eating it from behind, vaginal intercourse, unprotected sex, praise kink, innocence kink, corruption kink, size kink, manhandling, fade to black/abrupt ending

Author Notes: I've had this idea all summer. I've been eager to write it, but literally the muse only kept teasing me with it until literally about six hours ago when she said, WE'RE DOING THIS, AND WE'RE DOING THIS NOW, so it's almost late/maybe it's still you're birthday week for a hot minute in some time zone, but I'm slipping this to you @stargazingfangirl18 for your Birthday Bonenanza! Literally, when I tell you that when you originally tagged me in the announcement, and I read over the myriad of prompts, I thought, "Oh, wow, this is so tattoo Curtis and Ari coded, it HAS TO happen for Siri's birthday..." that's really how my brain thought it was finally going to get the jump on working on this. But then no. Then that other Steve story happened, and I was stoked about that. Then the new chapter for Nomad Steve, and I thought, ah well, still fun stuff, maybe someday this, and then AT THE LAST MOMENT, Muse pulled a plot twist. So here's some ruinous hoe shit. Multiple dialogue prompts from the challenge are used here, and you'll find them in bold.

A/N 2: Shout out to @vonalyn for a few convos hashing out some of this concept!

You are surprised by the tinkling of a classic bell hanging over the door that rings pleasantly as you enter the tattoo parlor.

A man behind the reception desk immediately looks up to greet you. He doesn’t shoot you a phony, business-y smile, but his demeanor is still warm and approachable. “Welcome,” he greets you. “Walk-in or appointment?” he asks.

“Um, walk-in,” you manage. In a black t-shirt with shoulders that are nearly bursting through the fabric, lush hair and beard, and striking blue eyes, he’s more than an impressive specimen. “If you’ve got an opening?” you quickly add.

“Sure, we can take you,” he says. His gaze flicks to a scheduling book in front of him on the counter. “A couple of the boys are on break or about to finish up with other clients. Your first time here, yes?”

You nod. “First tattoo ever.”

“Oh,” he says, and his eyes brighten. “Even better. Let’s get you booked in.”

He takes your name, email, and phone number to set up a profile for you in their system. There are some electronic consent forms that he takes you through and has you agree to and sign on an iPad, and then he takes asks a few questions about what you’re interested in.

“Based off what you have in mind, Curtis might be the best artist, but he won’t be finished for maybe an hour.”

“Ah,” you look at your watch. It was a bit of an impromptu idea for you to drop in to get the tattoo this afternoon, and you had time, but you had probably been foolish thinking a walk-in was any sort of good idea.

“But,” he interjects, “I’ve got two other guys who are excellent, and either one of them should be ready to take you pretty soon. Take a seat just over there, and I’ll go check in with them and get a call on time for you. I’ll also grab you a drink. Pick your poison - we’ve got water or Coke products.”

You give him your preference, and he nods and smiles.

“Right then, sit tight, and I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

He disappears around the corner, and you do as you’ve been told and take a seat on one of the black leather couches in the lobby.

Now you have time to really take in your surroundings. The walls are black with white moldings at the floor and ceiling, and the hardwood floors are a warm walnut. Everything is dark but clean. Classic but clearly in line with current trends. On the wall behind the desk, there’s a gorgeous, white-lettered feature with shop name - Obsidian Stain Studio - that’s sleek and impressive. On the wall next to you, there are ten framed pieces of art on the wall in a mix of sizes, some of them hand-drawn artwork, and the rest photos of finished tattoos on skin.

You’re nervous but determined not to be, so you cross your legs and try to keep your anxious energy limited to just running your fingers back and forth over the edge of your phone. Looking at the different designs on the wall does serve to capture your attention, though, and quell your nerves slightly.

The man working reception returns and hands you the drink. “We should have you back there in a chair in ten or fifteen minutes.”

“Great,” you respond, and the nerves kick up a notch, but it’s with a surge of excitement.

This is happening.

You take a sip of your drink, grateful for something to occupy your hands. The cool liquid helps soothe your nerves a bit. As you wait, you observe a few other clients entering and leaving the shop checking in or paying as they leave. Some sport fresh bandages, while others are clearly here for consultations, clutching sketches or reference photos.

The buzzing of tattoo machines creates a constant backdrop of sound, occasionally punctuated by muffled laughter or conversation from the back rooms. The atmosphere is more relaxed than you expected, nineties music underscoring it all.

As you wait, a couple emerges from behind the partition separating the lobby from the work area. They're both grinning, the woman cradling her forearm gently. Her companion is animatedly discussing something with her, gesturing excitedly. You catch a glimpse of fresh ink on her skin as they pass – a vibrant butterfly with intricate, colorful wings.

The sight makes your heart race a little faster. Soon, that'll be you walking out with fresh art on your body. The thought is both thrilling and slightly terrifying.

But you won’t be walking out with a friend or partner.

Your gaze wanders back to the artwork on the walls. One piece in particular catches your eye – an intricate mandala design with flowing lines and delicate detail. You find yourself drawn to its symmetry and complexity.

"Which one’s got your attention?" a voice asks, startling you from your reverie. You look up to see someone you can only describe as a lion of a man standing before you. All of his attention is focused on you like you’re his next prey. He towers over you with a mane of golden brown hair that’s grown out to tuck nicely behind his ears and curls out at his neck. He’s got a broad chest and shoulders covered in a denim shirt with a few buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up past his elbows. You can see peeks of ink mingled with some chest hair as well as intricate designs over his forearms. His dark blue eyes are zeroed in on you in a way that both unsettles and steadies you at the same time.

You point at the mandala, and the man smiles. “That’s one of Steve’s. He says you’re here for your first tattoo.”

“He… wait, is that Steve?” You nod and glance over at the man at the front desk who’s now consulting with an older man and showing him a few designs.

“Yep, he owns the place and loves to work the front almost as much as the back with the rest of us. I’m Ari, by the way.” He puts his hand out, inviting you to shake hands.

You push up from the couch, stand, and offer your hand for the shake. It’s engulfed easily by his big, warm, calloused hand.

“I’m the one who’s going to make your first time special.”

Your heart stutters and your face flushes. He didn’t just… your mind races. Did he?

He chuckles and drops your hand quickly. “Follow me,” he says and turns and begins striding into the back.

You fall into step behind Ari, your eyes inevitably drawn to his broad shoulders and the confident swagger in his step. The back area is an open space divided into several stations with partial walls, each with its own tattoo chair and equipment, creating semi-private booths. Ari leads you to one in the back corner.

"Have a seat," he says, gesturing to the chair.

You perch on the edge, your nerves returning full force. The air is thick with the scent of antiseptic and ink.

He pulls up a rolling stool and sits, leaning in close. "So, tell me about this tattoo you want."

You explain your idea - a simple constellation of stars for your zodiac sign - watching as his blue eyes light up with interest. He nods along, occasionally asking questions or offering suggestions. His enthusiasm is infectious, and you find yourself relaxing despite the butterflies in your stomach.

"Alright, I think I know what you're after," Ari says, reaching for a sketchpad. "Let me rough out a design for you."

You watch, mesmerized, as Ari's hand moves swiftly across the paper. His brow furrows in concentration, and you find yourself studying the angles of his face, the way his beard accentuates his strong jaw. Within minutes, he presents you with a design that takes your breath away.

"What do you think?" he asks, a hint of pride in his voice.

The constellation is there, just as you imagined, but Ari has added subtle details that elevate it beyond your expectations. Delicate lines connect the stars, and a hint of shadowing gives the piece depth and movement.

"It's perfect," you breathe, unable to take your eyes off the sketch.

Ari grins, clearly pleased with your reaction. "Great. Now, let's talk placement."

You indicate the spot you've chosen - your inner wrist. Ari nods approvingly. "Good choice. Nice and visible, but easy to cover if needed. Mind if I take a look?"

You extend your arm, and Ari gently takes your wrist in his large hands. His touch is surprisingly soft as he examines the area, his fingers tracing the spot where your tattoo will soon be. You can't help but notice the contrast between his rough, inked skin and your own unmarked flesh.

"Nice canvas," he murmurs, more to himself than to you. "Skin's good here. This'll work well." He looks up, catching your eye. "Ready to get started?"

You nod, a mix of excitement and nervousness bubbling in your chest.

“You’re a sweet, innocent thing, aren’t you?”

You open your mouth but shut it again, unsure how to respond, and he brushes his thumb over the pulse on your inner wrist, and you think you see his eyes darken.

He releases your wrist and turns to prepare his equipment. You’re frozen in place, but luckily that’s fine as it’s not necessary for you to move. You watch as he efficiently sets up his station, laying out ink caps, adjusting his machine, and pulling on a fresh pair of black latex gloves. The buzz of the tattoo machine as he tests it sends a jolt of excitement and nervousness through you.

"Alright, I'm going to clean the area now," he says, swabbing your wrist.

His touch is clinical now, professional, as he prepares your skin. The cool antiseptic makes you shiver slightly.

"Cold?" he asks, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"A little," you admit.

"Don't worry, I’ll have you warm soon enough," he says with a wink that makes your cheeks flush.

Ari places the stencil on your wrist, pressing it gently to transfer the design. When he peels it away, you see the outline of your constellation on your skin for the first time. It sends a thrill through you - this is really happening.

"Make sure you’re happy with the placement before we start," he instructs. "This is your last chance to change your mind."

You focus to examine the design on your skin more closely, heart racing. It looks even better than you imagined.

"It's perfect," you say, unable to keep the excitement from your voice.

Ari grins. "Alright then, let's make it permanent. You ready?"

You nod, settling back into the chair and extending your arm.

Ari takes your arm gently, positioning it just so on the armrest. "Now, I need you to stay as still as possible," he says, his voice low and soothing. "It's going to hurt a bit, especially at first. But I promise, I'll be as gentle as I can."

The buzz of the machine fills your ears as Ari brings the needle to your skin. You hold your breath, bracing for the pain.

The first touch of the needle is a sharp, burning sensation that makes you wince. Ari pauses, his eyes flicking to your face. "You okay?"

You nod, determined. "I'm fine. Keep going."

“Move an inch, and you’ll be sorry.”

You open your mouth wordlessly again, and he laughs.

“Only joking. I know you’re going to be a good girl for me, aren’t you?”

You bite your lip and nod, something fluttering in your stomach, mixing wickedly with your nerves and the uncertainty around this man who skirts between being casual, soothing your nerves, concentration on his craft, and making these comments that insinuate and evoke wholly inappropriate thoughts.

He smiles, then concentrates back on your wrist and resumes his work. Gradually, the initial shock of pain fades into a more manageable discomfort. You find yourself relaxing, mesmerized by the steady movement of Ari's hand and the way the muscles in his biceps move and flex.

As Ari continues, your eyes shift to his face. His brow is furrowed in concentration, his blue eyes focused intently on your skin. There's something mesmerizing about watching him work, seeing the care and precision he puts into every line. The buzz of the machine becomes almost soothing, a constant backdrop to the occasional murmur of voices from other stations.

"So," Ari says after a while, breaking the silence without looking up from his work, "what made you decide to get your first tattoo today?"

You hesitate, unsure how much to share. "It's… kind of a long story."

Ari glances up, a small smile playing on his lips. "We've got time. I'm not going anywhere, and neither are you."

You take a deep breath, wincing slightly as the needle hits a sensitive spot. "I've been thinking about it for a while. But today… today felt like it was finally the day to take the leap."

"Spontaneous decision, huh? Those can be the best kind."

You nod, feeling the heat creep up your neck. "I guess I just wanted to do something for myself. Something permanent.”

Ari nods thoughtfully, his eyes still focused on your wrist. "Sometimes we need a physical reminder of the changes we're making inside," he says softly. "Something to look at and think, 'Yeah, I did that. I made that choice.'"

His words resonate with you, and you find yourself relaxing further. The pain has faded to a dull, almost pleasant sensation.

"So, what's your story?" you ask, curiosity getting the better of you. "How did you get into tattooing?"

Ari chuckles, pausing to wipe away excess ink. "Now that's definitely a long story. But the short version? I was a troubled kid, got into some bad stuff. Tattooing saved me, gave me a purpose."

He glances up, meeting your eyes. "There's something powerful about creating permanent art on someone's body.”

The words send another thrill through your body and you nod, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickens at his intense gaze. "I can see that," you manage to say.

Ari returns his attention to your wrist, a small smile playing on his lips. "It's intimate, you know? Creating something that becomes a part of someone forever."

The word 'intimate' hangs in the air between you, charged with unspoken tension. You're acutely aware of the warmth of his hand on your skin, the gentle pressure as he works.

“You’re the one Steve says I nearly got to mark for the first time,” a new voice startles you, and you jump slightly in your chair.

Ari tsks, but his left hand had been holding your arm down firmly.

The other man chuckles. “Sorry, sugar.”

He steps closer, coming into Ari’s booth. He looks to be slightly taller than Ari, and a shade leaner, but he’s still built with more muscles than the common man. His hair is dark, shorn close to his head, and a dark beard covers his angular jaw. Ice blue eyes pierce into you, and you fight hard to suppress an actual shiver running down your spine.

"Curtis," Ari says without looking up, his tone a mix of amusement and mild irritation. "Didn't anyone teach you it's rude to interrupt?"

Curtis leans against the partition, crossing his arms over his chest. The movement draws your attention to the intricate tattoos covering his forearms. He’s got more ink than Ari.

"Just wanted to see what all the fuss was about. Steve said we had a noteworthy first-timer."

You feel your face flush, unsure whether to be flattered or embarrassed. Curtis's gaze is intense, almost predatory, as he looks you over.

"Well, now you've seen," Ari says, his voice tight. "Don't you have your own client to attend to?"

Curtis huffs. "Just finished up. Thought I'd come say hello." He turns his attention back to you. "How're you holding up, sweetheart? Ari treating you right?"

You nod, finding your voice. "He's been great," you manage to say, your voice a bit shaky. "It doesn't hurt as much as I expected."

Curtis grins, a glint in his eye. "Oh, Ari knows how to make it feel good, doesn't he?"

You feel the heat rise in your cheeks at the innuendo. Ari's hand tightens slightly on your wrist, and you see his jaw clench.

"Curtis," Ari says, his tone a clear warning.

Curtis holds up his hands. "Alright, alright. I can take a hint." He fixes his gaze once again on your face. "Maybe next time you'll let me be the one to mark you up. Lot more skin still to explore."

With that, he stalks away, leaving a charged atmosphere in his wake. You can feel the tension radiating off Ari as he resumes his work on your tattoo, his jaw clenched.

“Sorry about that,” Ari says after a moment, his voice low. "Curtis can be… intense."

You nod, still feeling flustered from the encounter. "It's okay," you manage to say, trying to calm your racing heart.

Ari looks up at you, his blue eyes searching your face. "You alright? Need a break?"

You shake your head. "No, I'm fine. Let's keep going."

He nods, returning his attention to your wrist. The buzz of the machine fills the silence between you once more. You try to focus on the sensation, the slight sting as the needle moves across your skin, rather than the lingering tension in the air.

After a few minutes, Ari speaks again. "You know, you don't have to let anyone pressure you into anything you're not comfortable with. Not here, not anywhere."

His words surprise you, and you meet his gaze. There's a protective glint in his eye, but he quickly returns his attention to your wrist. Ari's movements become more deliberate, almost possessive, as he continues working on your tattoo. The tension in the air is palpable, and you find yourself hyper-aware of every point of contact between your skin and his.

"Almost done," he murmurs after what feels like both an eternity and no time at all. "Just a few more touches."

You watch as he adds the final details, marveling at how the constellation seems to come to life on your skin. When he finally sits back, setting down the machine, you can't help but gasp.

"It's beautiful," you breathe.

Ari's eyes meet yours, a mixture of pride and something deeper in his gaze. “It suits you perfectly."

You feel a warmth spread through your chest at his words. Ari gently wipes away the last traces of excess ink, revealing the full beauty of your new tattoo. The stars seem to shimmer on your skin, the delicate lines connecting them creating a sense of movement and depth.

"Now, let's get this wrapped up and I'll go over the aftercare instructions with you," Ari says, reaching for a roll of clear film.

As he carefully covers your new tattoo, his fingers brush against your skin, sending little sparks of electricity through you. You can't help but notice how his large hands handle your wrist with such care and precision.

"There," he says, smoothing down the edges of the wrap. "All protected."

Ari walks you to the front, and your heart races when you see Steve and Curtis speaking quietly with their heads together. Ari clears his throat, and at the sight of you, Curtis nods, rakes his gaze over you once more. “Come back soon, sugar.”

You feel a shiver run down your spine at Curtis's words, but Ari's steady presence beside you helps ground you. Steve steps forward, a warm smile on his face.

"How did it go?" he asks, his eyes flickering to your wrapped wrist.

"It was amazing," you reply, unable to keep the excitement from your voice. "Ari did an incredible job." You extend your wrist, showing off your new tattoo.

Steve nods approvingly. "Beautiful work. Ari’s one of our best. Let's get you checked out."

As Steve begins to ring up your work, Ari leans against the counter beside you. His arm brushes against yours, and you're acutely aware of his proximity.

"Remember," he says softly, his voice low enough that only you can hear, "take care of it. It's a part of you now."

You nod, shyly meeting his intense gaze, looking up at him through your lashes. "I will," you promise, your voice barely above a whisper.

Ari's eyes soften, and he reaches out, his fingers ghosting over the edge of the wrap on your wrist. "Good girl," he murmurs, the words sending a shiver down your spine.

Steve clears his throat, breaking the moment. "All set," he says, handing you a receipt. "We hope to see you again soon."

You nod, suddenly feeling flustered. "Thank you," you manage to say, gathering your things.

As you turn to leave, Ari's hand catches your elbow gently. "Wait," he says, reaching into his pocket. He pulls out a small business card and presses it into your hand. "In case you have any questions about the aftercare. Or anything else."

Your fingers brush as you take the card, and you feel a jolt of electricity at the contact. You look down at the card, noting the personal cell phone number scrawled on it. "Thank you."

Ari's blue eyes lock with yours, intense and filled with unspoken promise.

You barely seem to turn away, but somehow manage to break off from the eye contact, and quickly rush out of Obsidian Stain Studio.

You keep Ari’s business card, but as the weeks go by, you don’t use it.

After a couple of months, you move the card from the spot next to where you keep your keys where you see it every day, into the top drawer of your desk. Out of frequent sight, but not out of mind completely.

It’s a solid six months before you return to Obsidian Stain again, but ultimately you do. The bell jingles above your head as you step inside.

The tattoo on your wrist had healed beautifully, and you loved seeing it on your skin. You had decided fairly soon afterwards that you wanted another tattoo, but even after saving up for your next one, it had taken you longer to decide whether to return Obsidian or not, the experience with Ari and encounters with Curtis leaving you torn between terrified and desperately curious to go back.

Ultimately the allure was too strong to deny.

But, more logically, although finally going in to get your first tattoo had been on a whim, you had been very thorough in narrowing down and exploring your options for months before. You knew they were one of the best in your area, especially for the style you wanted, and the price point you knew you could afford while still ensuring quality.

Unwilling to make an appointment, though, you were going to gamble on a walk-in again.

No one was immediately at the front desk, but at the sound of the bell, Steve quickly appears. “Welcome back,” he said, a broad grin on his face.

“Walk-in?” you ask, and remind him of your name.

“Oh, I remember you.” Steve beckons you forward. “Let me see that wrist,” he says.

You offer your arm with pride, and he smiles warmly.

“Looks good. You hit us on a slow day, perfect for a walk in. I’ll get you booked in, and then I’ll take you right back.”

You feel a mix of excitement and nervousness as Steve leads you to the back. The familiar scent of antiseptic and ink fills your nostrils, bringing back memories of your last visit. Your eyes scan the room, half hoping and half dreading to see a certain tattooist.

"Curtis is free right now," Steve says, guiding you to a station. "He'll take good care of you."

Your heart skips a beat at the mention of Curtis's name. You remember his intense gaze, his bold words from your last visit. Part of you is disappointed it's not Ari, but another part is intrigued.

Curtis looks up as you approach, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Well, well. Look who's back," he says, his ice blue eyes locking onto yours.

You swallow hard, suddenly feeling very exposed under his gaze. "Hi," you manage evenly.

Curtis's eyes rake over you. "I was hoping you'd come back to us," he says, his voice low and smooth. "What can I do for you today, sugar?"

You begin to explain the design you have in mind - a delicate, line art floral piece. As you talk, Curtis listens intently, occasionally nodding or asking questions. His focus is entirely on you, making you feel both nervous and oddly thrilled.

“And where do you want it?” he finally asks.

You trace an area of your other arm - opposite of the one with your inked-up wrist — moving your above, over, and below the crook of your elbow.

“Hmm,” he hums. “You sure?”

Your eyes shoot to his. “Yes?” an edge of hesitation now in your voice at his query.

He narrows his eyes slightly, then shakes his head. “No.”

“No?”

“No. A piece like this could work well there, but that’s not where you want me to put this.”

“It… isn’t?”

“No, it should go here,” he says, and he reaches out and brushes his fingers lightly over your ribs instead, causing you to shiver.

He gestures for you to take a seat in the chair. As you settle in, Curtis rolls his stool closer, leaning in. "Now, this is going to be a bit more intense than your wrist. You sure you're ready for it?"

You nod, trying to project confidence despite the nervous flutter in your stomach. "I'm ready."

Curtis grins, a predatory glint in his eye. "That's what I want to hear from that pretty mouth. Now just sit tight and wait for me while I draw something up.”

Your heart races as you lean back in the chair, Curtis's words echoing in your mind, causing heat to pool in your core. You watch, mesmerized by the intensity of his focus. After a few minutes, he turns back to you, holding up the sketch.

"What do you think?" he asks.

Your breath catches in your throat. The design is beautiful - delicate flowers and vines intertwining in a way that would perfectly follow the curve of your ribs.

"It's perfect," you breathe, unable to take your eyes off the design.

Curtis smirks, clearly pleased with your reaction. "Alright then, let's get started. I'm going to need you to lift your shirt for me."

Your cheeks flush as you slowly raise the hem of your shirt, exposing your ribs. Curtis's eyes darken as they roam over your skin.

"Beautiful canvas," he murmurs, his voice low and husky.

You feel exposed, knowing your own soft belly and imperfections, but he looks at you in a way that has your head spinning, it’s a hunger that’s almost reverent.

“Better if you take your shirt off for me, sugar,” he says, his tone firm.

Head swirling, you don’t think to refuse, just do as you’re told. With trembling hands, you pull your shirt over your head, feeling incredibly vulnerable as you sit there in just your bra. Curtis's eyes roam over your exposed skin, a look of satisfaction on his face.

"That's better," he says, his voice low and approving. "Now, let's get you positioned just right."

His hands, surprisingly gentle, guide you to lie back and slightly to the side. You shiver as his fingers trail along your ribs, mapping out where the tattoo will go.

"Nervous?" he asks, a hint of amusement in his tone.

He already knows the answer, but you nod, not trusting your voice.

Curtis leans in close, his breath warm against your ear. "Don't worry, sugar. I'll take good care of you."

Your breath catches in your throat at his words. He chuckles softly, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you.

Curtis begins to clean and prepare your skin, his touch clinical yet somehow still intimate. You try to steady your breathing, hyperaware of every point of contact between his hands and your body.

"Now, this is going to hurt more than your wrist did," Curtis warns, his voice low. "But I know you can take it. You're tougher than you look, aren't you, sugar?"

You nod, steeling yourself for the pain. The buzz of the tattoo machine fills the air, and then you feel the first bite of the needle against your skin. You gasp, your body tensing.

"Breathe," Curtis instructs, his free hand coming to rest on your hip, grounding you. "That's it, nice and steady."

As he works, Curtis surprisingly stokes and then keeps up a steady stream of conversation. Mostly it’s inquiry after inquiry, forcing you to focus on finding words, but his deep voice also helps to distract you from the pain. He asks about your life, your interests. You find yourself opening up, sharing more than you intended about your life, your dreams, your fears. His voice continues to provide the counterpoint to the buzz of the tattoo machine.

"You're doing so well," Curtis murmurs, his eyes flicking up to meet yours before returning to his work. "Such a good girl for me."

The praise sends a shiver through you, and you bite your lip to stifle a small moan. Curtis notices, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.

"Sensitive, aren't you?" he says, his voice low. "I like that."

Your cheeks flush, but you can't deny the thrill his words send through you. The pain of the tattoo blends into the sensations he’s evoking as his hands move with practiced precision across your skin.

"So, sugar, what made you come back for more ink?" he asks, his eyes flicking up to meet yours before returning to his work.

You take a shaky breath before answering. "I loved how the first one turned out. And… I guess I wanted to experience it again."

Curtis chuckles, darkly. "Addictive, isn't it? The pain, the permanence... the intimacy of it all."

His words make your heart race, and you're acutely aware of how close he is, how vulnerable you are beneath his hands.

"Speaking of your first time," Curtis continues, the steadying hand that had been at your waist ghosting just a little lower, "Ari seemed quite taken with you. Did you ever give him a call?"

The question catches you off guard, and you feel a flush creep up your neck. "No, I… I didn't," you admit softly.

Curtis's hand stills for a moment, and he looks up at you, his ice blue eyes intense. "No? Now that's interesting. Why not, sugar?"

You swallow hard, unsure how to answer, yet unable to stop the words from flowing. "I... I guess I was nervous," you finally say.

A slow smile spreads across Curtis's face. "Nervous? Of Ari? Or of what you felt?”

Your cheeks flush at his perceptiveness. "Both, maybe," you whisper.

“Or maybe you were waiting for something else?" His hand resumes its work, but the touch his anchor hand seems more deliberate now, each movement charged with unspoken intent.

"I don't know what you mean.”

Curtis chuckles, a low, dark sound that sends shivers down your spine. "I think you do, sugar. I think you knew exactly what you were doing when you came back here today."

His words hang in the air between you, charged with tension. You can't bring yourself to deny it, can't even find your voice to respond. Curtis seems to take your silence as confirmation.

"That's what I thought," he murmurs, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. "You're full of surprises, aren't you?"

The buzz of the tattoo machine fills the silence as Curtis returns his focus to your ribs. You try to steady your breathing, acutely aware of every point of contact between his skin and yours. The pain of the tattoo blends with the heat pooling in your core, creating a heady mix of sensations.

"Tattoo nearly done," Curtis says after what feels like hours.

You let out a shaky breath, a mix of relief and disappointment washing over you. The intense experience is coming to an end, but part you that scares you doesn't want it to.

"Just a few more touches," Curtis murmurs, his eyes focused intently on your skin, and the buzz of the machine continues for a few more minutes.

"There we go," Curtis murmurs. He wipes away the excess ink, then sits back to admire his work. His eyes roam over your exposed skin, a mixture of professional pride and something darker in his gaze. "Want to take a look?"

You nod, not trusting your voice. Curtis helps you sit up, steadying you with a hand on your lower back as you move to face the mirror. Your breath catches in your throat as you see the intricate design now adorning your ribs. The delicate flowers and vines seem to bloom across your skin, following the curves of your body perfectly.

"It's perfect," you whisper, unable to take your eyes off the mirror.

Curtis's smile widens, and his eyes darken. "Of course it is. I knew exactly what you needed."

His words send another shiver through you, but then suddenly you feel the heat of him too close, and he’s pressed right up against your back, planting his large hands on your hips and caging you in.

"You're trembling," Curtis murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. His hands tighten on your hips, holding you steady against him. "Are you scared, sugar?"

You can't find your voice to answer, your heart pounding in your chest. You're acutely aware of every point of contact between your bodies - his broad chest against your back, his strong hands on your hips, the heat of him seeping through your skin.

"Or maybe," he continues, his voice low and dark, "you're excited."

One of his hands slides up your side, carefully avoiding the fresh tattoo, until it comes to rest just below your breast. Your breath hitches, and you see your pupils dilate in the mirror's reflection.

"That's what I thought," Curtis says, satisfaction clear in his tone. "You've been thinking about this, haven't you? Since the moment you walked in.”

You can feel the heat radiating from his body, smell the faint scent of ink and something uniquely him. Your heart races, a mix of excitement and nervousness coursing through you.

"Tell me, sugar," Curtis murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. "Did you come back here hoping to see Ari? Or were you hoping it would be me?"

You swallow hard, your mind spinning. "I… I don't know," you manage to whisper.

Curtis chuckles, the sound low and dark. "I think you do know. I think you've been thinking about this for months." His hands slide up and down your sides, careful to avoid the fresh tattoo. "Thinking about what it would be like if you came back. If you let yourself give in."

Your breath hitches. “No.”

“No?” he challenges. His right hand, still gloved, audaciously slips past your waistband and down the front of your panties to cup your pussy. He laughs softly, discovering a growing wetness there. “Yes.”

You gasp as Curtis's hand begins to stroke your most intimate area, your body betraying you with its response. Your mind races, torn between the thrill of his touch and the shock at how quickly things have escalated.

"Wait," you manage to breathe out, your voice shaky. "We shouldn't…"

Curtis pauses, his hand stilling but not withdrawing. "Why not?" he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "Your body is telling me a different story, sugar."

You're acutely aware of how exposed you are, standing there in just your bra with Curtis pressed against your back, his hand between your legs. The mirror reflects your flushed face and wide eyes, Curtis's intense gaze locked on you.

"Someone could walk in," you whisper, a weak protest even to your own ears.

Curtis chuckles darkly. "They could.”

Your mind is spinning, caught between the intense sensations and the voice in your head screaming that this is wrong, that you shouldn't be doing this here, now, with him. But your body betrays you, responding eagerly to his touch.

"Curtis," you manage to whisper, your voice shaky, and tears springing up in your eyes. "We can’t—"

"Shh," he soothes, his free hand coming up to gently grip your throat. Not choking, just holding. "Don't overthink it, sugar. Just feel."

His fingers continue their exploration, finding your clit and circling it slowly. You bite back a moan, plant your hands on the mirror, and your hips rock back against him.

“Fuck, knew you wanted this,” he speaks directly into your ear.

You whimper and shake your head, but then his hand moves up to cover your mouth. “Gotta keep more quiet than that unless you want someone else to join us, sugar.”

Your eyes desperately seek his in the mirror, fear flashing in them, and the tears begin to spill over. There’s a predatory glint in his icy blue gaze.

His fingers continue their skilled ministrations, drawing forth sensations you've never experienced before. Your body betrays you, responding eagerly to his touch despite your mind's protests. You're caught in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions - fear, excitement, shame, and an overwhelming, undeniable pleasure.

"Look at yourself," Curtis commands softly, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror. "See how beautiful you are like this."

You force yourself to look, to really see yourself - flushed cheeks, wide eyes, chest heaving with each ragged breath. Curtis behind you, his large frame dwarfing yours, his hand between your legs, the other still gently but firmly covering your mouth.

Curtis's eyes meet yours in the mirror, his gaze intense and predatory. The fear in your eyes seems to excite him further, his grip on you tightening slightly.

"Don't worry, sugar," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. “I knew all those pretty tears were just for show, you want this just as badly as I do, andI've got you."

His words send a shiver down your spine, a mix of fear and arousal coursing through you. You're acutely aware of how vulnerable you are, how easily he could overpower you if he wanted to. And yet, there's a part of you that thrills at the danger, at the forbidden nature of what's happening.

Curtis's fingers continue their skilled exploration, drawing involuntary gasps and moans from you that are muffled by his hand. Each deliberate movement sends waves of sensation coursing through your body, igniting a fire that you never expected to feel. Your body continues to betray you, responding to his touch despite your mind's protests, creating a tumultuous conflict within you. The thrill of the moment is undeniable, yet a flicker of apprehension lingers in the background, whispering the dangers of being caught in such an intimate entanglement, making it impossible to pull away.

"Damn, that’s a pretty sight,” a familiar voice jolts you nearly out of your skin, and you whip your head around to see Ari looming in the entry.

Curtis stops only for a moment and looks over his shoulder at the other man. "Didn't anyone teach you it's rude to interrupt?"

Ari shrugs, all nonchalance, and palms the large bulge pressing at the front of his jeans.

Your heart races, caught between exhilaration and apprehension. The sight of Ari standing there, a blend of curiosity, mischief, and lust in his eyes, adds an element of unpredictability that excites and terrifies you.

Curtis grunts, then says, “I’m not stopping, but I’ll share.”

Your jaw would have dropped to the floor in that moment had Curtis’s hand not been holding it in place, securing your response and anchoring you to the present. The idea of a threesome, tantalizing yet fraught with risk, swirls in your mind. How did this escalate so quickly? The thought of being discovered sends a shiver down your spine, but the allure of the forbidden is intoxicating, pulling you deeper into the moment.

You sob, overwhelmed and afraid, but it’s muffled as Curtis turns your body around with him, his grip firm yet reassuring His fingers are still moving, relentless and sure, and you can hardly focus on anything else. Your mind races through the possibilities, the dangerous thrill of being discovered adding an exhilarating layer to the encounter. Would Ari join in, or would he simply stand by and watch, adding to the intensity of the moment? The idea of indulging in such a forbidden experience fills you with a mix of dread and excitement, as if you’re teetering on the edge of a cliff, about to leap into the unknown.

Ari pulls a privacy curtain you had failed to notice across the opening to the booth before taking the few short steps to close the distance between you. This sudden shield from prying eyes heightens the anticipation, transforming the atmosphere into one charged with desire and unspoken possibilities. Ari traces the back of his forefinger down the column of your throat, down your sternum, between your breasts, and then circles around the expanse of your new tattoo, eyes roaming over the beautiful design.

Not to be forgotten, Curtis tweaks your clit, cracking the pleasure that had been mounting like a whip, demanding an orgasm from your body, and you tremble in his arms as you cling to him. Each flick of his fingers sends shivers through you, igniting a fiery response that leaves you gasping for more.

“Knew you were such a good girl,” Ari praises, and your chest surges from his praise, his low, sultry voice invading your mind. Then, he unzips his jeans, the sound echoing in the booth like a promise yet to be fulfilled. He goes to sit on the black leather chair, pushing his pants and boxer briefs down around his ankles, revealing the enticing sight of his big, throbbing cock.

Curtis lifts you with ease and places you in Ari's lap. The transition is seamless, and you find yourself enveloped in the warmth of Ari's embrace. His hands instinctively find their way to your hips, grounding you as you settle in. With Curtis standing close, the dynamic continues to shift and evolve. You can feel the heat radiating from both men, each one eager to exact pleasure, and you hope the fire doesn’t consume you completely.

“Take off your bra,” Ari directs you.

Your eyes widen over his immediate demands, but, nervous as you still are, you don’t hesitate to do as he says. His hands on your hips hold you steady while you reach around to unclasp, and then you let it drop and fall away, biting your lip. Ari groans appreciatively, and grinds your core against his cock. You let out a shuddering breath at the friction, but it’s a singular sensation for only a moment, because then Ari dips his head and takes one of your breasts into his hot, wet mouth, and you gasp. Your fingers tangle immediately into his hair, looking for some kind of anchor.

Vaguely you hear the rustle of fabric from Curtis close behind you, and then you feel the heat of his now naked chest press against your back. He nips lightly at your neck, but then pulls back slightly. He rucks your loose skirt up over your hips, but then he rips the fabric of your panties right off, and you yelp in surprise.

Ari’s quick to muffle your sound by shifting his lips from your breast to your mouth, but his lips and tongue are no less eager, and the kiss is delicious and demanding, and you’re easily almost completely lost in him again. But Curtis has also discarded his gloves, and now his warm, calloused hands move slowly up your thighs before squeezing your hips, then start to knead the flesh of your round ass.

Curtis places a hand between your shoulders and pushes you forward, coaxing you against Ari’s chest. Ari takes the hint and leans back in the reclined chair, pulling you with him. This exposes your most intimate parts to Curtis, and he spreads you open, then presses his tongue flat against your cunt, eliciting a moan that, luckily, is swallowed up by Ari, who’s still eagerly kissing you, and now kneading your breasts in his large hands. Curtis continues to lick and lap at your cunt, but then his tongue begins to move up, and then suddenly he’s tonguing the tight rosebud of your ass, and you whimper and freeze.

Ari stops when you stop, pulling away to look at your face and assess the situation.

Curtis teases you with his tongue for another moment before pausing to pull away as well.

“Not a virgin,” he guesses, “but never had anyone play with your ass, have you, sugar?”

You close your eyes and try to take a steadying breath, your, “no,” soft and barely audible.

“Do you want him to stop?” Ari asks, and you can feel him studying your face.

Your mind is racing, but you remain frozen, unsure of what to say.

Ari brings one hand up to stroke your cheek. You lean into his touch and open your eyes again, but still don’t speak.

“Keep going,” he says to Curtis, and Curtis does.

While Curtis works your tightest hole with his tongue, still splaying your cheeks open, Ari reaches down to slip two fingers into your dripping cunt, and you eagerly rock your hips for more. Ari smiles, then brings you down with his other hand to kiss you again.

When you’re positively humping his hand, Ari pulls back from kissing you again with a darker laugh than you expected, but you’re so far gone between them, you think of stopping or slowing at all now.

“Open your eyes,” he commands.

But it doesn’t register.

He withdraws your fingers and slaps your pussy, making you gasp and groan, and your eyes whip open.

His dark blue irises are barely visible, pupils blown wide with lust, and it just cause another surge of electricity to run through you to your core.

“Do you know how long I’ve waited for this?”

And then it’s his cock nudging at your entrance.

“Ari,” you groan.

“Since that first fucking minute I saw you in the lobby,” he says. He taps his cock aggressively against your swollen clit, and you keen for him. “Knew you were an innocent little thing, and I wanted to absolutely ruin you.”

You bite your lip, unable to look away from him, and think of that day, too.

“We both wanted to ruin you,” Curtis adds. And his finger takes over where his tongue had been, working gently but insistently into your ass.

You moan softly, but the two men hear it and exchange a glance over your shoulder. Ari looks pleased.

“I didn’t touch you that day, only teased you, enticed you. I knew you’d be back,” he growls. “Shame I didn’t have you on my chair again, but that wasn’t going to stop me.”

He pushes your lips back to his for another devouring kiss, but it’s brief.

“You’re desperate to be filled up, aren’t you?” he asks.

Closing your eyes again, you whimper and drop your forehead to his, but your answer is undeniable. “Yes.”

“You didn’t have to wait this long, but we won’t punish you for that. We’re patient men.”

“It only gave us more time to think of all the ways we’ll take you apart, sugar,” Curtis murmurs against your shoulder, then presses open-mouthed kisses against your hot skin there.

And then Ari is slipping his cock inside of your cunt, slow, insistent, and doesn’t stop until he’s into the hilt, pushing all the air out of your lungs. He’s so big it feels like he’s everywhere, and it takes you concentrating on making your lungs work again to suck in deep breaths, impossibly full of him.

But as full as you feel, it wasn’t everything. Because while Ari was slipping his cock inside you, Curtis had removed his fingers, and now his thick cock was splitting you open and finding room in a hole that had never been filled before, and it was unfamiliar pain, but already pressing into impossible pleasure, and really, you had to press your palms to the leather on either side of Ari’s head and focus on breathing and only breathing if you were going to survive this.

And then they both began to move.

In and out and in and out and inandout.

And you were sure you were going to black out or bliss out from how full you were and all the sensations surging through your body and –

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I make no apologies for this. Send me your medical bills as needed.

#ari levinson #chris evans characters #curtis everett smut #curtis everett #ari levinson smut #curtis everett x reader #ari levinson x reader #female reader #tw: dubcon #tw: dub con #tw: dubious consent #happy birthday siri 2024 #aspen wrote something #obsidian stain and sin

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tibby-art · 3 months

Note

i am straight up on my hands and knees BEGGING for more hitman au

crazy that you mention that actually because i did write another snippet a little while ago.. here’s a doodle i did to accompany it + the writing under the cut

=+=

Grian gazed out the window of the bus, soaking in the quiet evening of the city. It had been some time since he was out in public like this, since he had felt like a normal citizen going about her daily buisness. It was nice to be outside the NHO headquarters for once, free to do what she pleased. Well, sort of.

Grian wasn’t exactly free. He was allowed some free time out when there was no training, lab visits, or missions. However, she was only allowed outside the NHO with a bodyguard. Someone who could both protect him from the overstimulation of the outside world, as well as protect others from her… if he were to ever lose control of his powers, or something.

Yes, riding the bus with a former-criminal-turned-professional-hitman certainly made the whole experience feel less normal for Grian.

“It’s nice to take public transportation once in a while,” Scar mused, stretching his arms over his head. “Us vexes don’t get to do that much anymore, when we can just fly around wherever we need to go.”

“That must be so much better, though,” Grian pointed out. “You can fly wherever you want, and you don’t even have to pay the bus fare.”

“Let me tell you, Grian, flying can be so tiring,” Scar huffed. “Sometimes I’m so tired by the time we show up to a hit, we need to take a breather on the roof for a few minutes. The NHO should just let us have a car for the long missions, for goodness’ sake!”

Grian did a quick check of his surroundings. The bus was pretty empty this time of day, but she got no sense that any of the passengers were paying attention to Scar so casually talking about being a hitman. A brief tap into watcher vision didn’t show any movement from the passengers behind her, either.

“Cub’s in much better shape than me,” Scar rambled on. “Did you know that man was a professional basketball player once? Or was it golf…? Actually, I think it was both.”

The NHO didn’t deem it too urgent to send both their prized hitmen on Grian-watching duty, so Cub had stayed behind at the headquarters. Last time Grian had seen Cub, he was showing off a ring of keys to Scar, saying how he was going to get a lot of ‘research’ done that night.

“What are those keys for?” Grian asked.

“Don’t know yet,” Cub shrugged. “That’s part of the fun”.

“So… those aren’t your keys?”

Cub and Scar just grinned at her.

“….This is our stop,” Grian said.

The pair exited the bus. The Hermit City library stood before them.

“Library, huh?” Scar asked. “Do you have some overdue books from before you became a watcher or something?”

“Not so loud,” Grian scolded, glancing around a mostly empty city street. “But, no. Speaking of… that, I wanted to see if there were any books I could find on the subject.”

Scar raised an eyebrow. “Do you think a public library would have better information than what we have at the NHO?”

Grian shrugged. “It’s worth a shot.”

The library was pretty empty at this time of day. In fact, they probably closed in an hour or so. Grian had deliberately chosen a time of day where less people would be around, so that the trip was less overwhelming on his new senses. Scar had complained that he wasn’t a morning person, so they settled on the evening instead. Grian secretly was also glad she could sleep in a little.

“Geez, when’s the last time I’ve been in one of these?” Scar muttered, glancing at the countless shelves of books as they walked past.

“What, are you allergic to reading?” Grian teased.

“Well, I am dyslexic, so… sort of?”

Grian realized that for a trip to the library to do some research, she probably should have gotten Cub to come. The man literally has two science degrees, after all.

The two made their way to the front desk, where the librarian on duty appeared to be preoccupied… knitting a hand puppet of some kind?

“Well howdy there!” The librarian looked up from his work cheerfully. He had long, brown hair that was dyed neon green at the tips, matching perfectly with her pointed green glasses. “What can I help y’all with?”

“Uh, yes, um.” Grian tapped his fingers on the desk. “We were wondering if you had any books on Watchers, and where they might be?”

“Watchers, huh…” The librarian furrowed their brow. “Now that’s an obscure topic.” He swiveled his chair towards his computer to investigate further. Grian began to grow anxious with how obvious he felt they were being.

“I know, right?” Scar sighed, leaning on the desk casually. “It’s for some lame group project that’s like, a fourth of our final grade in the class.”

“Yikes! That sounds rough,” The librarian remarked as she typed on the computer. Grian tapped into his sixth sense and didn’t pick up on any feelings of suspicion from the librarian. Maybe bringing Scar was a good idea.

“Okay, well, most of these books that are coming up seem to be more on the… fantasy side,” The librarian explained after a moment of scrolling. “I know those guys are mythological beings, but you said you’re doing a research project, so I’m guessing you want something more factual…”

“Yeah, anything with information about where they came from, what they do, stuff like that.” Grian nodded. “Y’know, like if they were real.”

“Oh! Here’s something promising.” The librarian turned the monitor so that Grian and Scar could see. “This book right here seems to be a study of the tales of Watchers throughout history. Although… it looks like our only copy is checked out at the moment.”

“Really?” Grian asked. “By who?”

The librarian blinked. “Hm… y’know, I’m actually not sure if I’m supposed to like, give that information to people? Like, legally?”

“There’s another person in our group project, so we just want to know if they beat us to checking out this book,” Scar lied. “Communication in group projects, am I right?”

“Pff, yeah, that makes sense,” The librarian turned the computer back to face him. “It looks like this book is currently being borrowed by a Martyn. With a y! How fancy.”

“Ah, Martyn with a y, of course!” Scar exclaimed. “Well, now we know that Martyn has the book, right Grian?”

“Yup,” Grian agreed, mind racing.

“Hey, actually…” The librarian scrolled down on the computer some more. “You guys sure got the right person for this project. It looks like this Martyn fella has been checking this book out for a few months now?”

Grian’s eyes widened.

“Ohh, that Martyn,” Scar laughed. “Always getting the head start on things! Uh, did we need anything else, Grian?”

“Um…” Grian needed to think fast. Whoever this Martyn person was, he’s been checking the same book on Watchers out for months. Surely he has to know something about them. Grian had to speak to him. But how on earth were they going to find this person?

Grian focused on the back of the librarian’s computer monitor. For a brief moment, in her mind’s eye, he could see the content of computer screen, from the librarian’s eyes. There on the screen was a full name: Martyn Littlewood.

“Nope, that’s all,” Grian replied, blinking rapidly as he returned to his own vision.

“Great. Well, you two have a good one!” The librarian said cheerfully, and returned to their knitting.

Grian and Scar briskly made their way outside.

“Wow. So who’s this Martyn guy? I didn’t think anyone else cared about Watchers that much,” Scar began, turning to Grian. “Oh uh, Grian, you’ve got something there…” Scar pointed to his own nose, looking worried all of a sudden.

“Huh?” Grian wiped his nose on his sleeve instinctively, expecting snot. However, when he glanced at his arm he saw red.

“Ah.” At least her sweater was already red.

“What did you do in there?” Scar asked, his green eyes intense with a mix of curiosity and concern.

“I was able to get a better look at that computer, and see the guy’s last name,” Grian explained. “Martyn Littlewood. Whoever he is, he might have a ton of information about Watchers. I’ve got to find him and have a word with him.”

“Grian, you’re amazing!” Scar exclaimed, impressed. “Well, finding someone in this city should be easy enough for a Watcher.”

“Shush,” Grian glanced around the empty bus stop. “Or we could try, y’know, looking the name up online first…” Grian quickly pulled out her phone. “Ah. Found him.”

“What? You’re kidding.”

“Oh my god, Scar.”

“What?”

“Scar.” Grian held the phone out. “Martyn Littlewood is…”

“A youtuber?” Scar’s jaw dropped as he scrolled through the list of videos. “And he makes videos talking about-“

“Watchers.”

Scar stared at Grian, dumbfounded.

“Scar, I think we just found the world’s biggest, and perhaps only, Watcher fanatic,” Grian stated in disbelief. “And he lives right here in Hermit City.”

#please excuse my rusty writing abilities #convexian hitman au #grian #goodtimeswithscar #sketchbook #art tag #desert duo

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whenlilyfallsinlove · 4 months

Text

not anymore.

luke castellan x reader - college au, only one bed, enemies to lovers.

im back!! sorry for being afk, ive had lots of exams!

"oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me." you hear luke say as you drag your suitcase into the room.

you rolled your eyes at the sound of his voice, already mad as it was. this was supposed to be a fun weekend: your college has organised a trip for students to go to new york, which you had been excited for.

the trip was off to a great start - you and your friend clarisse had explored the city where you had eaten the best bagel in your entire life.

your happiness, however, was short-lived.

"I'M SHARING WITH WHO?!" your voice echoed through the hotel lobby, causing clarisse to nudge you.

"luke. apparently." clarisse says, almost amused.

"that can't be right. how is this even allowed?" you frown.

"well you're adults, so you're probably trusted-" she starts but you cut her off.

"i can not share a room with him clarisse, i fucking despise him." you groan. you had hated luke since kindergaten and he hated you. that was the way it had always been.

"it's only two nights." she tries to comfort you.

"ONLY TWO NIGHTS, THAT'S TWO NIGHTS TOO MANY." you despised him. he was the bane of your existence.

"you think I want to be sharing a room with someone as stupid as you?" a new voice came from behind you, you turned round to see luke stood, glaring at you. next to him was chris, who waved at clarisse.

"i'm way smarter than you. i have every right to complain." you glare back.

"oh, do you even hear yourself right now? you sound ridiculous." he replies.

"literally shut up, your opinion is irrelevant to me." you say.

"you're so fucking annoying oh my god." luke groans.

"i'm annoying?! you're the one who-"

you continued to bicker, completely forgetting your surroundings. chris and clarisse shared knowing looks with each other, the two of you claimed that you hated each other, sure. but the tension between the two of you was unmatched.

"hey.." clarisse says, dragging your attention from luke "at least there'll be two beds, you can just ignore each other."

this put a smile back on your face.

"thank fuck.." you say and the two of you begin to walk up to your respective rooms.

"what is it-" you were about to come out with some form of insult until you realised what his reaction was for.

there, in front of you, was your hotel room. with only one bed.

"are you taking the piss?" you let out an exasperated sigh.

"i think i'm going to die." luke groans.

"oh shut up, go see if we can change rooms." you remark.

"why can't you?" he responds.

"because i can't be bothered to come up all those stairs again" you respond, rolling your eyes like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"you're so lazy." he replies.

"are you gonna do it then or what?" you put your hands on your hips.

"fuck yes." luke replies, and leaves the room.

when he is gone, you let yourself fall onto the bed and groan. this could only ever happen to you. having to stay in a room with the boy you've hated since the age of 6 was one thing, but sharing a bed with him? even worse. you wish you had never come on this stupid trip. then you'd be at home, no luke, curled up in bed, watching the new season of bridgerton. was it too late to-

your thoughts were interrupted by the return of luke, who looked as if he was going to kill you for even breathing near him.

"well?!" you stand.

"there's no other rooms. this is the only one, we have to wait till tomorrow." he frowns.

"oh for the love of god." you say, putting your head in your hands.

"yeah. that's how i feel right now. stuck in a room with a freak." luke says.

"i hate you." you glare at him.

"the feeling is mutual." he glares back.

"you're such a dick."

"only because you are the most annoying person on earth."

"fuck this, i'm having a shower." you grab your pjamas and make your way too the bathroom.

"be quick. i want one." luke calls out.

"i want, doesn't get." you stick your tongue out at him.

"what are you.. eight?" he glares.

you flip him off and shut the door, locking it, and get in the shower.

the hot water calmed your anger, as you tried to take as long as possible. maybe you should try and drown yourself? i mean it would get you out of this situation. that was what you needed.

you continued to ponder the logistics with this until you realised your skin had gone a bit wrinkly from being in there for too long. you got out, dried yourself, and put your pjamas on. you regret how little you brought. the heat was stifling, so you had only brought some shorts and a small crop top. in your defence, you thought you'd be sharing with clarisse.

you opened the door, and walked out the bathroom, luke was layed on the bed, on his phone.

"fucking finally, are you done in the bathroom yet, you took-" he blinks, stopping once he sees what you are wearing.

"oh shut up. i'm done." you glare.

luke nods awkwardly - what the fuck was up with him? - his gaze lingering on your figure. he clears his throat.

"uh yeah. um good." he finally responds standing up.

"the fuck is up with you?" you give him a funny look.

"nothing weirdo." he snaps out of it, and makes his way to have a shower over his own.

you frown at his reaction - why was he being so weird. you shake your head, and get into bed, laying on the edge, and go on your phone.

after about fifteen minutes, luke responds and gets into the other side of the bed.

you lay in silence for about fifteen minutes, both not knowing what to say.

"you still awake?" luke asks you, turning over to look at you,

"why wouldn't i be?" you retort.

"it was just a question.. why are you always so hostile?!"

"because you annoy the living daylight out of me."

"you can't even look at me when you say that." he smirks.

he was right, your back was still turned. you roll your eyes but turn so you are facing him.

"yes i can. you annoy the living daylight out of me." you say looking into his eyes.

his eyes.. were they always this pretty? what was up with you? it was luke. LUKE.

"i know i do." he smirks, looking into your eyes.

you feel flustered. the two of you go quiet for a minute until luke breaks the silence.

"why do you even hate me anyway?" he asks.

"because you anger me." you respond.

"but why?"

"do you not remember when you pushed me off my bike when we were 6?"

"oh yeah. that was so funny." he smiles at the memory.

"no it wasn't." you retort.

"it was." he looks at you again.

the two of you go silent again. what was happening to you? was luke moving closer or was it just you? no he definitely was. was he leaning in-

"turn the light off. i'm tired." luke suddenly demands, catching you off guars. you immediately move away from him.

"um no? i'm not tired." you respond back. you weren't crazy.. you swear you had just had a moment with him.

"do i care?" he asks, avoiding eye contact with him

"i'm not doing it." you retort, rolling you eyes.

"fine. i'll do it." he gets up and turn the light off, leaving just the lamp on the corner on.

"oh you are so irritating." you glare, looking up at him.

"whatever, just go to sleep, we have to meet early tomorrow." he responds and gets into bed, turning his back away from you.

you mock him whilst his back is turned, and turn away yourself.

how were you supposed to get to sleep? you swear you were about to.. i don't know.. kiss luke. your mortal enemy.. except not really. you knew for sure he was right back to being the same old luke as before.

you frown and lay there for about ten minutes, trying to fall asleep.

"(y/n).. i'm.. sorry." you hear luke mutter, next to you. luke had NEVER apologised to you before. EVER. but you were still mad.

"go to sleep." you repeat what luke said to you. you were petty, what can you say?"

"i can't." he responds, making you roll your eyes.

"you can't?! you literally said you were tired." you say.

"how in the hell do you expect me to sleep when you're right there and i can't stop thinking about you?" he raises his voice, catching you off guard.

what. the. fuck. what did he mean. what.

you turn over, to see luke already staring at you.

"what.." you feel your breath hitching in your throat as you see luke already looking at you.

"you're the bane of my existence. i hate you. you get under my skin. but fuck.. why do you have to be so beautiful?" he says, looking into your eyes.

"luke.." you mutter.

"i can't hold back any longer, (y/n), i can't keep pretending i don't l-"

you interrupt him by crashing your lips onto him, kissing him hungrily. luke happily returns the kiss, wrapping his arm round your waist.

after about ten seconds, you pull away.

"i'm sorry, i shouldn't have-" you aplogise.

"don't be sorry. i liked it." he replies, making you smile.

well one thing was now certain for sure. you definitely didn't hate each other anymore.

#x reader #fanfic #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x y/n #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson x reader #enemies to lovers #pjo x reader #pjo x you #pjo x y/n #only one bed #fluff

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landoslvr · 6 months

Text

MRS CLARKEY | g. clarke

summary: a scroll through your internet presence as 'mrs clarkey'. [social media AU.]

pairing: fem!reader x george clarke

faceclaim: steph hui

notes: first piece for mrs george out of the wag universe. steph is gonna be the main fc I use for mrs clarkey, hopefully you like it! this is the longest one I've done so far.. definitely want to do a fic for their first meeting and for the useless hotline podcast- maybe even the ski trip!

liked by user, user and 37,923 others

yourinstagram happy halloween 💋💋

view all 281 comments

user you're literally so hot y/n

user I want to be you so bad

user how can I look like that

user jeez u flexible or something baby?

user the dress? the hair? the makeup??? unreal

yourinstagram thank you!! I did it myself xxx

user shes godly

user have fun tonight!!

user she's the only girl I know to have an impromptu photoshoot and then go out drinking

yourinstagram gotta take the outfit for a spin!!!

liked by chrismd10, arthurtv and 58,283 others

georgeclarkeey you should've seen the other guy!

view all 198 comments

user george wth

user its the vomit on the cheerleading outfit for me

chrismd10 looking good mate

wroetoshaw nice eyebrow....... eyebrow singular

georgeclarkeey yes I got that thank you

user AS IF Y/N FOUND HIM ON HER NIGHT OUT

user I KNOW!! I came from her tweets after everyone tagging this guy

chrismd10 you getting referred to as 'this guy' on your own post is so funny to me

georgeclarkeey well, you're huge aren't you?

imallexx loving the new look mate

user waiting for y/n to join the comments 🫣

user me too 😶😶

yourinstagram its great to know what you look like with both of your eyebrows george! a pleasure to have met you, despite the circumstances...

georgeclarkeey my left eyebrow was too intimidated by seeing betty boop in the flesh it ran away!

user my heart 😭

liked by georgeclarkeey, max_balegde and 37,192 others

yourinstagram went on the useless hotline podcast this week to talk about me saving the george clarke! thank you very much for having me boys 🤍

view all 302 comments

user she's just so pretty

user as if model queen y/n saved youtuber george clarke 😭 not over that at all

georgeclarkeey always a pleasure, you're welcome back anytime you feel like scraping me off of the pavement

yourinstagram anytime you need me, I'll be there to call the ambulance

user LOVE that coat

georgeclarkeey also feeling something.. or someone.. is missing from this post?

yourinstagram idk what you want from me here clarke

max_balegde ahhhhhh!!!!!! such a pleasure to meet the woman that singlehandedly saved my co-host from death <3 thanks so much for coming on, martini besties for life now

yourinstagram call me anytime you need multiple olives!!!

max_balegde three olives, extra dry!!

user stop I hope they all stay friends 😭

liked by georgeclarkeey, chrismd10 and 39,219 others

yourinstagram casual 'saved your life/face' dinner post

view all 331 comments

user nahhhhhhhhh because this is a date

user y/n looks so good 😭😭

user lets not ignore George Clarke wearing something other than a t-shirt

chrismd10 impressed you managed to get him in slacks!

georgeclarkeey your mum brought them for me

user THAT DRESS

user I just wanna be you y/n

user George has major cake its not funny

max_balegde literally should be criminal

georgeclarkeey you saved my life I am eternally grateful

yourinstagram 👽👽👽

liked by georgeclarkeey, chrismd10 and 40,938 others

yourinstagram visiting the mountain tops with some new friends x

view all 370 comments

user bitch we know that's george clarkey, fess up

max_balegde the love of my life really tbh, you look sooooo good

yourinstagram max I'll cry

user drop the link for the jackets!!

user that is george clarke's watch missy

user so you just so happen to be on a ski trip at the same time at george and his friends?????????? coincidence? I think NOT

user I know george is using ever fibre of his being not to comment on this right now

liked by yourinstagrm, miniminter and 59,902 others

georgeclarkeey there's 'snow' way it's this cold in the mountains

view all 286 comments

user Y/N TAKE OF THE SKI MASK COWARD

user we literally know it's her

chrismd10 handsome fellas

user literally just tell us you're dating guys

wroetoshaw high altitude my friend

user love these pics of the boys together

arthurtv distinguished skiers and snowboarders

charliehutchens really good ones too

user do you think y/n had to throw her phone out of her hotel room to stop herself from commenting?

user yes, yes I do

liked by georgeclarkeey, wroetoshaw and 37,981 others

yourinstagram out and about ✈️🗺️

view all 320 comments

user should we tell y/n that she posted a picture of George in the 4th slide and then proceeded to cut his head out of the 6th one????

user let her live in peace I guess

user wow no one is immune to stupidity these days 😭

user can't believe they took her so young

georgeclarkeey you're not getting that poster back

yourinstagram if you dont return my harry styles poster I will sue

georgeclarkeey I live with a lawyer, so good luck with that darling

user DARLING???? LITERALLY JUST PUNCH ME IN THE FACE NEXT TIME GEORGE

liked by yourinstagram, stephentries and 61,192 others

georgeclarkeey chris informed us that you all know we're dating so no more discreet photo dumps I guess?

view all 401 comments

user WAR IS OVERRRRRR

user quick everyone act like we didn't see this shit coming

user the way he tried to do her dirty in the last 3 pics but he literally can't

user she's just so pretty

user I wanna be her

max_balegde mrs clarkey!!!!!!

yourinstagram !!!!!

chrismd10 you're so welcome mate

user she's so gorgeous

user kills me

user george x y/n girlies won today

yourinstagram 🤍🤍🤍 love you big stupid idiot 🤍🤍🤍 once I posted the invisalign it was over..

georgeclarkeey guys gotta eat

liked by georgeclarkeey, arthurfhill and 43,938 others

yourinstagram casual 'I can finally post my boyfriend' post!!!!

view all 493 comments

user guys I love today

user this makes me so happy

chrismd10 the power of drunken lime bike rides!

yourinstagram thank you lime bikes

user the alien picture kills me

max_balegde can't wait to have you back on the pod as mrs clarkey

yourinstagram a promotion, for me???

user george is so cute, I envy y/n!

arthurtv it's about time tbh

user I've been waiting for this one

georgeclarkeey was worth losing half of an eyebrow I guess

yourinstagram maybe the eyebrows were the friends we made along the way?

#george clarkey x reader #george clarke x reader #george clarke #george clarkey imagine #george clarke imagine #george clarkey #cel's social media aus #mrs clarkey

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miss-conjayniality · 3 months

Text

BELOVED.

pairing: sub!sunghoon x dom!gn reader

genre: smut

warnings: sunghoon is tied up, crying, reader teases quite a lot, cock slapping, use of pet names (sugarplum, little prince), slight degradation if ya squint

word count: 807

i can’t stop thinking about tying sub!sunghoon up. could you just IMAGINE those huuuge buff arms of his tied to the bedpost? and whenever you kiss his body, suck, or jerk him off, his veins start protruding and his muscles clench…… 🤤🥵

the thought of bringing out the “weakness” of a strong, dapper, masculine gentleman is a special something that riles me up. having the emotional power to bring out their raw, vulnerable side - the side often shunned by broader society because it isn’t seen as “strong” or “manly”. it’s beautiful to me. seeing the deep troughs of one’s psyche simmer its way to the surface. getting them stripped both literally (of their clothes) and figuratively (of their cerebral armor). the friction between their restrained demeanor and their unveiled vehemence as they get seduced to oblivion by their lover.

sunghoon is the embodiment of that.

poor hoonie. look at the tears in his eyes. he’s so overwhelmed by it all. it’s all so new to him. but he’s been craving this for so long. his biggest desire has always been to surrender to his beloved and have you do whatever the hell you want to him.

it starts off with body worship. kissing every inch of his strong, yet sensitive body. it’s endearing to see him tense up whenever you touch unexpectedly sensitive parts of his body, like the sides of his lats. and truthfully, not only is it such an amazing way to worship his godly body, but also to body scan him. knowing every nook and cranny of his impeccably sculpted temple. to add on to that, it’s also an amazing way to tease him until he’s at his limit.

then, the journey continues with playing with his girth. you really enjoy taking all your sweet time in the world to simply suck his cock and check out his fucked out face. it’s eye candy to you. he can’t take it any longer but that makes all this even better. the overstimulation is something you always enjoy.

“my b-beloved…..” sunghoon cries out as you devour his cock. “when will i b-….be untied? I wanna touch you….p-….please”

that tears that flow down his flushed cheeks and the pout on his lips makes you weak. awww. so cute when he’s aching.

“when I feel like it,” you utter, taking your mouth out for a moment, “as much as I’d love to untie you, I also love seeing those biiiiiiig manly muscles of yours clench while I toy with every inch of your gorgeous, delicious body. you’re the cutest thing ever. truly. I love seeing you like this.”

sunghoon releases a frustrated whine. but little did he know that you actually “felt like it” immediately. what a surprise. but what can you say? it’s fun to keep him on the edge - not anticipating what’ll happen next or when it’ll happen.

as you untie him, you kiss his arms just to make sure he’s okay.

“are you okay my sugarplum?” you ask. “i want to ensure my little prince didn’t get tied up too hard.”

“yes, beloved,” sunghoon cries as as starts hugging you. “it was torture not having to touch you but now I feel much better.”

sunghoon has been craving your touch for a while because it quite literally relieves him 😢 there’s no feeling more comforting than your embrace.

he then peppers your mouth with his sweet kisses.

“mmmm-….mmm….beloved….” sunghoon says between kisses. “thankyou thankyou thaaannkkkyyyooouuuu.”

you pull away and he pouts slightly. but you then run your hand down his cheek as a sign of reassurance.

“my little prince,” you purr, “i can’t stress enough how excited I am to rile you up and make your entire slutty body jolt.”

your hand then slides down his beautiful shoulders, chest, stomach and his girth.

“hmm…are you excited for me to jerk you off and drain all that big load out of your stiff, pathetic cock?” you query, with a hard slap on his member at the word ‘pathetic’.

“nnnggghhfff….yes,” sunghoon squirms, caught off guard by the cock slap, “please beloved. please…….. i need it now.”

the moment you began jerking his cock off, he knew he had a long night ahead of him……

even after the countless times you’ve flooded sunghoon with your pleasure, he still can’t get enough of you and your intense, hypnotic presence. he feels a real passion for you that defies just “jerking him off” or “making him cum”. you make him submit like no other.

sure, he could be able to physically fuck you until you go weak because of his “strength”. but mentally, he can’t. the sensation of your touch is too much for him to emotionally handle. just a couple thrusts and he is already the most pathetic, squirming loser ever. god he’s such a fucking slut. that’s when he discovered that he belongs at the bottom and deserves to be the one getting controlled. it’s because he’s so sensitive. poor thing.

plus, the contradiction between his tough, chic, manly facade and the whiny, whorish moans he elicits gets you off. he’s all putty in your hands, both literally and figuratively.

after all, you are his beloved.

#enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #sunghoon smut #sub!enhypen #dom!reader #sub!idol #sub!kpop #xoxo heidi ♡#hard hours with heidi ♡

331 notes · View notes

tim-shii · 7 months

Text

a blessing in disguise.

a/n: dad!sae and husband!sae in one post? more likely than you think. timmy being down bad for sae for the nth time, what's new? i didnt know where this story was heading while i was writing it halfway but the idea is dad!sae and husband!sae. also this is cute i love this work i will cry over this for months.

“sometimes, i’m pretty sure you’re only with me out of pity. how dare you? my love for you is sincere–”

“what are you babbling about now?” sae let out an exasperated sigh. you two are lounging in the living room. him, watching a soccer game of the rivaling team they’re going up against next week, and you, laying down on the couch with your feet on his lap, just blankly staring at the ceiling.

“…like i would even lay down in front of a moving train for you. or! i would, without a doubt, drink a poison that’s specifically for you. if you ever get in a coma, i would stab myself, juliet style, absolutely no hesitation. you don’t understand the lengths i would go through for you–”

“oh my god,” sae drags his palm down his face quite dramatically. “is this because i forgot to say ‘i love you’ this morning?”

“see? this is exactly my point. do you even like me?” you nudge his side with a sock clad foot.

he grabs a hold of your ankle and settled in back on his lap. “we’ve been married for five years. our son is literally five meters away playing with his sister.” sae replied with a pointed glare, visibly done with your antics. someone give him a break, he’s experiencing this exact predicament for the past seven years. he’s annoyed, yes, but it’s one of the reason he’s highly and deeply infatuated– in love with you.

you were about to retaliate but rushed footsteps and a sudden weight on your chest prevented you. “mommy!” speak of the little devil and he shall appear. kio, your 4-year-old son. behind him is kiho, your 1-year-old daughter, crawling as hard as she can trying to reach her older brother. immediately, you sat up on the sofa, pulling kio to your lap. “what– baby, are you crying? what’s going on?” you coo as you wipe the tears off his chubby cheeks.

“kiho bit me! we were just playing and then she suddenly–” while you were occupied with kio, sae abandoned his spot from the couch and opted to slide down to the floor instead. his eyes were focused on the adorable infant who is now crawling towards her beloved father. as soon as she’s only a foot away from him, sae scooped her up in his arms and retreated back to your side on the settee, “you bit your brother, kiho?” to which the infant just babbled incoherent with a wide grin.

sae smiles back at her before furrowing his brows. and it seems like you had the same thought as him when you looked at him with a confused frown.

“bit you?” you asked kio.

“yes, she did! it hurts! i think her bite left a mark!” he showed you his left forearm and there you see. the mark of a small baby tooth.

“she’s teething!” you exclaimed happily after kissing your son’s forearm. (“kisses make the pain go away.” you once told him when he tripped and scraped his knee at the park.) sae gently lift up kiho’s lips to peek at her gums, and ta-da! a cute tooth peeking back at him.

“she’s growing up too fast.” sae hummed, kissing kiho’s head, making her giggle.

“mommy, why did she bite me?” kio patted your cheek to get your attention back on him. “did i do something wrong? i thought she was having fun when we were playing together.” your heart felt stabbed, squeezed and stepped on ten times as kio looks at you with tears in his eyes.

“she was just showing affection, ki. she must’ve felt overjoyed with you but she didn’t know how to express it. she is a baby after all.”

“did i bite when i was a baby, too?”

“oh, absolutely. you bit your dad mostly.” you laughed at the memory of sae wincing in pain as his son decided to sink his growing teeth onto his father’s shoulder as he carried him.

“now. kiho, baby. say sorry to your brother.” sae held her in the middle of you two like a cat, his hands supporting his torso under her arms. however, instead of a garbled apology, kiho blew a raspberry to kio.

“hey, that wasn’t nice,” the little boy frowned.

“mom, don’t laugh– dad, stop laughing, too!” kiho followed the two of you and let out a gleeful squeal. all the while kio rubs the saliva off his face with your shirt.

“kio!” sae laughs even harder. kiho, too.

likes and reblogs are appreciated! masterlist

#tim writes.#blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk #bllk imagines #blue lock imagines #blue lock fluff #bllk fluff #sae itoshi #blue lock sae #sae x reader #sae imagines #sae angst #itoshi sae #sae itoshi x reader #sae itoshi fluff

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star-girl69 · 7 months

Note

As much as I love overprotective Clarisse which believe me I DO😍😍 am I the only one who kinda wants to see a protective reader if something happens to Clarisse or even Ivy?!

I feel like Clarisse may just sit back and be Yh that’s my girl 🤭

Literally kicking my feet and giggling while writing this

Also I love your writing so much it’s so goodddd I check my phone for any new posts all the time and scream when you do

TYSMMMMM BAE ILY!!!!!! been in a writing slump recently. someone else please write a mind bogglingly good clarisse fic to inspire me again. lord give me strength…

forget the fact this is 2 days late. thank y’all 🙏🙏

anyways officially adding danny to the perfect family bc I DO WHAT I WANT!!!!!!!!!!!

ok so imagine this

clarisse is participating in some sort of contest

idk roman gladiators LMAOOOO

but basically it’s like a big tournament? and yk she’s destroying eating it up cooking, whatever you will

finally she gets to like the semi-finals and atp everyone kinda knows she has it in the bag

her opponents are scared

(trust an underground betting ring was formed. everyone who bet on clarisse is thanking the gods and everyone who didn’t is shaking in their boots)

clarisse is happy bc you and the twins (danny and ivy)

are sitting right in the front row cheering her on

and she got a wonderful good luck kiss from you

so not only is she happy and thinking about that but also she’s convinced that she’ll win just bc she got a kiss from you

so the fight starts, ivy is genuinely SCREECHING at the top of her lungs she’s so me she can’t be normal about anything ever

and you and danny are just regularly cheering for her 😭

eventually someone behind you tells ivy to shut up

YOU WHIP AROUND BC WTF???

harshest death glare in the universe. like even zeus would be a little scared.

ivy doesn’t even notice she’s chill

the other person quickly shuts the fuck up.

then you turn back to watch clarisse and the fights just starting, the other dude is scared and knows his ass barely stands a chance

she’s having fun pummeling him

ugh fight scenes are hard to write

so eventually she tosses his ass to the floor

“GO MOM GO GO GO BEAT HIS ASS MOM BEAT. HIS. ASS.”

“IVY STOP FUCKING SWEARING”

and this dude, who’s laid on the ground, who knows he’s cooked, decides the best option is to grab some dirt and throw it in clarisse’s face

and no one was prepared for this

like clarisse was standing over him with her spear at his throat, smile on her face, everyone knew he was done for- THEN HE DECIDES TO PLAY DIRTY AND DO THIS???

like everyone thought clarisse had it in the bag

the rules for this competition were that you’re not allowed to use anything but your person and/or pre-approved weapon(s)

NOT EVEN CLARISSE WAS EXPECTING IT

SO SHES DISTRACTED BY THE FREAKING DIRT IN HER FACE

SO WHEN THIS BITCH KICKS HER SHE GOES DOWN

DEAD SILENT!!!!!!!

EVERYONE GASPS!!!!!!!

whispers in the crowd… “oh bro is cooked…”

(sorry i’m obsessed w saying cooked rn)

and he is cooked

but by someone unexpected.

clarisse is wiping the dirt off of her face swallowing her shame she can’t believe she got distracted and let herself fall she should have saw it coming but suddenly she hears someone screaming

she opens her eyes and sees you menacingly walking towards this dude, who’s still on the ground and scrambling away

and what’s funny it you’re yelling at him like a mother would

the crowd is giggling…

“THAT IS AGAINST THE RULES. WERE YOU NEVER TAUGHT MANNERS??? WERE YOU NEVER TAUGHT DECENCY??? SHAME ON YOU SHAME ON YOUR PARENTS SHAME SHAME SHAME”

clarisse is literally sitting there mouth dropped open when you grab his ear and he HOWLS

dragging him back towards clarisse, he’s kicking and screaming and literally CRYING

“HELP HELP HELP ME HELP SHE CANT SO THIS SHE CANT I DIDNT DO ANYTHING WRONG”

“YES THE FUCK I CAN YOU BROKE THE FUCKING RULES NOW APOLOGIZE YOU LAWLESS SWINE”

“I DIDNT DO ANYTHING PLEASE I DIDNT”

one of the apollo kids who organized the event is looking around (kinda enjoying it) but mostly very scared

“technically you did break the rules… sorry pal…”

“PLEASE PLEASE HELP ME”

obviously, this is the hottest thing clarisse has ever seen in her life.

she’s sitting back on her palms, watching in utter amazement, trying not to bite her lip

someone loving clarisse… that gets her going

someone loving clarisse enough to PROTECT HER??? she’s about to explode. EXPLODE. she’s never needed you so bad in her life LMAOOOO 😭

and this bitch is STILL refusing to apologize

like damn it’s not that hard… it’s not like you have any pride left to speak of you just got dragged around by the ear 😭😭 bro you’re cooked just apologize and get out while you can

AND YOU’RE GETTING FED UP WITH IT TOO

“hey, dumbass, why don’t you look at the stands?”

you point, and everyone follows your finger.

ivy is a literal cartoonish whirl of her pink t-shirt and the white shorts with the little trees on them

danny is holding her back (with ease, might i add he’s strong as fuck 💪)

“i’ll let her out.”

“I DIDNT DO ANYTHING-”

“LET HER OUT”

he barely escapes that attack.

when you finally call ivy off of her attack, she stands next to clarisse, literally growls at the dude, before hugging clarisse

clarisse is still on the ground in utter shock.

she can’t keep her eyes away from you and ivy. she can’t get rid of the GLOWING feeling in her chest

is this… what it’s like… to be loved?

WAHHHHHH WAHHHHHHHH BITCH NOW IM THE ONE CRYING NOOOOOOOO 😭😭😭

danny eventually walks over and helps her up

then they all watch as you smile sweetly at this very traumatized dude and ask if he’s ready to apologize

“IMMSORRUOHGOEE IMSORHR ESEBIMS YORUUE”

(i’m sorry oh gods im sorry i’m sorry”

then you walk over to clarisse, rolling your eyes and mumbling about bad parenting, girl she pounces on you.

kisses you so hard in front of everyone

ivy and danny are hugging each other and shielding each other’s eyes, screaming, begging for you two to stop

“y/n” she breathes as she pulls away “you are… the most amazing mother, the most amazing girlfriend, and literally the love of my fucking life.”

literally twirling your hair “omg baeeeee you’re too sweet 🤭”

(y’all don’t end up leaving her cabin for a LONG time.)

after this clarisse definitely sort of realizes a whole new side of your relationship. seeing you publicly defend her like that, publicly care about her, love her, omg she is going crazy for you!!!

after this incident she definitely stops calling you her gf.

gives you a really pretty ring she got one of the hephaestus kids to make, starts calling you her wife

and nobody better have a problem w that lol or else they got two ares killing machines, one feral attack dog, and a literal mother who is not afraid to drag you by your ear.

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo @randomhoex @luvrrish @rebecca37 @saltair-and-palemoonlight @ace-spades-1

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #pjo tv show #pjo x reader

423 notes · View notes

andy-wm · 2 months

Text

Back to WHO : the MV

This is a continuation of the earlier post that discusses the song WHO, by Jimin. That post was a first impression focused on the lyrics - while this one looks more closely at the MV.

(Remember this is my interpretation, not an official statement by Hybe)

The more times I watched the music video, the more I wanted to yell, because look...

IT'S REALLY STARING US IN THE FACE.

And again, kudos to Jimin's team because it's the most obvious thing in the world ever but only if you ALREADY KNOW what's going on.

Here's a summary:

The music video loosely represents Jimin's attraction/sexuality/love life as a timeline.

New colours - a new spectrum shall we say - filter into his life even though he's trying so hard to 'keep to the program'.

He searches high and low for a girl to love, but alas, nobody makes the fireworks happen for him. Then Billboard Boy crashes into his life, threatening to destroy everything. Jimin has to weather the storm and figure out where his place is because Billboard Boy is a major disruptor - a tornado in fact. In the end, the fireworks are popping and the chaos is happening, and Jimin has to just go with it and finds his place again. His colours have been getting brighter and louder as he goes along and in the end he's prepared to walk away from everything in order to be the spectrum he is.

<<I'm not saying it's literally a count of how many girls or boys or enbys he's kissed. I hope his kissed all of them and then some, frankly, but that's none of my business.>>

A few things to pay special attention to:

Burning cars > cars = masculinity. fire = hot. 1+1=2.

Dancers > people he's interacting with

Rough weather, as represented by the wind-whipped papers and eventually even cars being tossed about the set > His attraction to men (and dare I say it, culminating in a focus on one man in particular)

Colour flares, machine text, and marks on the tape (horizontal lines etc)

Are you ready? Let's go...

Jimin enters the scene looking like sex on legs (no surprises) and strolls casually onto the road. Immediately our view of hm is blocked by a pop-art style poster blowing across the screen. It's immediately followed by a car coming around the corner onto the road. The car is on fire. Jimin watches it pass by and follows it.

He follows the burning car.... and so it begins.

The narrative starts from before BTS even exists. Jimin encounters several female dancers who he has brief and sexy interludes with. In fact i don't think there's a single woman in this MV who he doesn't at least look at. He really does try everything (and everyone) in his efforts to find HER.

BUT WAIT.... rewind...

Let's go back to the poster... it depicts a street scene much like the one we see here, with the words:

WHO IS!! TORNADO OF LOVE

Note: those are exclamation points not question marks.

It's not a question. This is telling us UP FRONT IN BIG LETTERS that 'WHO' is tornado of love.

I could probably stop here and just say 'ok go watch it again' but it's too much fun to go through all the details.

So let's continue...

Jimin has a little more steamy choreo with the female dancers before the lyrics tell us he has so many people to see and places to go, and he leaves them and joins 6 other men in what looks like a work environment....

Hello we are BTS!

Yes you guessed it... like Yoongi did in Haegum, Jimin has his members represented here. (Fan chant going off in my head...) and more delicious choreography follows.

Notice that while Jimin was dancing with the girls, the only signs of rough weather were a few glittery specs floating through the air, barely noticable. Those bits of glitter multiply when he joins the 6 men, and instead of a sprinkling of glitter, it starts looking like a light snowfall.

That's all about to change....

The first moment of reckonning:

At the end of this section of choreo, as Jimin sings 'who is my heart waiting for' and moves into the next phase we have a barely visible flash of light across the screen and rainbow colours bleed into the footage (at 1.14).

This is also the moment the significant rough weather starts. I'd say this is where Jimin starts noticing how he feels, and the turmoil begins, because this is also where he makes eye contact with the camera (1.23).

He sees us watching.

Fuck. I had a moment here. There's a look on his face as he walks past the camera and stares right into it.

AUTO CALLIBRATION...

As another millisecond flash of light and rainbow colours seep into the footage, The machine text 'AUTO CALLIBRATION' appear on the screen and flash there for a couple of seconds.

CALLIBRATE: To standardise... by determinning the deviation from a standard so as to ascertain the proper correction factors (Meriam-Webster definition).

"Get a hold of yourself, Jimin. Reset (your behaviour and desires) to correspond with expectations"

Jimin makes a very determined bee-line for the nearest girl and dances with her, ignoring the burning car in the foreground.

This brings us to the next phase of the narrative, and the next location - the performance space in front of the OASIS cinema.

(Do you see the doors of the cinema - BTS referenced again).

As he dances with this girl, the camera zooms out and we see that a crowd has gathered outside the cinema, watching them, but the crowd does not seem friendly and the dance seems performative - the movements are exagerated and obvious. The girl has Jimin in a headlock at one point and then she pushes him away and leaves. All in all it's an unpleasant event.

At this point the BTS members return (Although now there's one missing) and they dance with and around a number of female dancers. flashes go off in the crowd as the choreo is performed.

As they dance the wind picks up quickly and papers and cans are blown about. Even when Jimin is obviously interacting with female dancers the weather continues to pick up. Dancing with the girls isn't helping.

The camera pulls back and we see the same car as before, still on fire.

This is the moment when the penny (or billboard) drops.

All the other dancers scatter, dissapearing in a matter of seconds as the billboard comes crashing down. The billboard blocks his path. Wherever he had been planning to go - or whatever course of action he had planned to take - this man on the billboard forces a new decision. Jimin has to rethink his plans.

Jimin turns and goes in the opposite direction to everyone else. (A similar scene occured in Like Crazy, Jimin going the other way, rejecting the norm, going against the tide).

The machine text flashes "REWIND ... REWIND" on the screen and we see Jimin heading back to where all this started... where the original car on fire was seen.

He's travelling his own path now, but as he walks, alone in what seems to be the wrong direction, we see the store lights brighter, reflecting off cars and filling the space around him.

He's going through the motions with the girls he passes but the interactions are brief and in one case he actually dodges the girl completetly.

He retraces his steps amidst the chaos, and the weather really goes nuts. Now there are cars being thrown through the air, streetlamps exploding. The storm is almost upon him.

As Jimin steps into that original street again, the one with the neon letters spelling BLISS, the machine text reads PLAY. It's almost ike he's having a redo, where he accepts who he is from the start and allows the chaos to happen. And the chaos DOES happen, because the tornado has arrived.

THE TORNADO OF LOVE.

There's a flash and the whole screen is flooded with colours, blanking out the footage.

Jimin can no longer dance in step with everyone else at this point. He's doubled over, belting those high notes at the climax of the song while the chaos rages in the background. Without the music to give his actions context, it almost looks like hes in agony.

Sparks fly, lights flash, even the film itself is affected...

He eventually gets it together and rejoins the choreography, picking up his life so to speak. But his callibration is forever changed. the colours that bled into his life are there for good now, and and as he walks away after the music stops, we see that those colours are not just for the performance, they exist outside of that.

A note about the light flares we see throughout the MV:

It was really hard to catch these, some of them were literal milliseconds. I had to slow the MV down to play at .25 original speed and even then they were fleeting - well hidden.

Only the one at the very end was really visible.

In this one, the word PAUSE appears, as the MV ends. I wonder if that relates to their military service?

The flares of light and colour, those rainbow flashes, aren't always easy to find. Youvhave to be prepared to seek them out.

We will find them if we look for them, but i think Jimin won't show his true colours until after the lights go down and the performance is over.

I respect his decision (if that's what that is) and i will continue to meet him here his stands. I'll support everything he does knowing what I know and I'll continue to search for and uncover the hidden messages he sends us.

#park jimin #jikook #국민 #bts jimin #park jimin who #jimin who #tornado of love #jimin muse

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loudstan · 4 months

Text

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

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

Pairing: Werewolf! Chenle x Siren! Female reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He finally looked up when you scoffed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Absolutely no—”

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

“I have no intention of—”

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

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

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

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

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

And his eyes were so full of adoration.

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

…Almost.

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

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

His brows furrowed.

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

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

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

“Let me go,” you instructed softly.

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

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

He nodded slowly, lost in your eyes.

“What will you do?” you asked.

“I will go home,” he replied monotonously.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not really,” you sighed.

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

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

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

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

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

“No,” you lied.

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

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

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

Speaking of rules…

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

“It was an emergency!” you hissed.

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

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

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

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

“Then what was the problem?”

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

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

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

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

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

“But sirens do,” he said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” Chenle said in a monotonous voice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What for?” Jeno asked, confused.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Taeyong nodded. “Then what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Chenle replied curtly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then Chenle heard him lock the door.

“What are you doing?” Chenle asked.

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

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

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

Chenle gave him a disgusted look.

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

Great. Taeyong had told everyone.

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

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

“A fever won’t kill me–”

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

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

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

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

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

Chenle looked up, surprised and enraged. “Wha—,” he yelped, jumping off the bed when he saw Yuta walking towards him. “Hyung, what’s your fucking problem?!”

“You need to cum,” Yuta repeated.

Chenle gulped. “Y-you wouldn’t. You’re mated,” he reminded him.

Yuta nodded. “I already called my mate and asked her for permission. I explained that it was an emergency and I would only do it if you didn’t cooperate. She found it weird, but in the end, she agreed as long as I only used my hand and never mentioned it again.”

Chenle’s eyes were wide with bewilderment. Yuta was not fucking around. He really was that guy who would help a bro out. “You’re crazy.”

“So I’ve heard,” Yuta conceded. “Now, get over here. The faster we do this, the faster your rut will be over,” he said while he rolled up his sleeves like he was about to perform some surgical procedure.

“NO!” Chenle exclaimed. “I’ll do it myself!”

Yuta raised his eyebrows expectantly. “Go on, then.”

They stared at each other in silence for a whole minute.

“Do you mind…,” Chenle asked vaguely, pointing at the door.

“Nah, I ain’t leaving until you do it.”

“Hyung,” Chenle spoke through gritted teeth. “I promise you I’ll do what I have to do, but please give me some privacy.”

Yuta seemed to think about it for a second and then he made his way to the door, unlocking it and opening it. As he was leaving he spoke again.“Just know that if I don’t hear any fapping sounds I’m coming back–”

“GET OUT!” Chenle yelled, throwing a pillow at the door which closed right in time.“He’s so weird,” he murmured to himself.

“I heard that!” Yuta yelled from the other side of the door. “That’s not the sound I’m waiting for!”

Chenle groaned. He was incredibly embarrassed to have to touch himself while someone listened, but he knew Yuta wasn’t bluffing and that he wouldn’t leave until he did what he promised he would.

He stood in the corner of the room that was the furthest from the door and hesitantly palmed himself over his pajama pants. Immediately his back arched and his eyes rolled back.

“F-fuck…” he whispered, pressing his palm against his erection harder. It felt so good to get some friction after holding out for so long.

Why was he avoiding this again?

No, what he was avoiding was not the pleasure itself, but thinking of you to feel said pleasure. He felt like he had no right.

‘No right?!’ huffed an incredulous voice in his head. ‘Who else would have that right if not me? She’s my mate–’

He shook his head and his hand stopped moving. You weren’t his. He didn’t want you to be his, right?

That’s what he had been telling everyone since he met you.

But why did he keep saying that? Why didn’t he want you?

He remembered the taste of your soft lips and his hand resumed its movement as he let out a shaky breath.

How could he not want those lips?

And the way you whimpered when his teeth grazed your neck?

Oh, hell no. He definitely wanted you.

He pulled his pants down and thrust into his fist.

“Mm…Y/N–ah!” he moaned.

He remembered it now. You had told him that he didn’t want you…and he just went with it?

He let out a sound between a scoff and a laugh as he remembered the conversation. You had dared to tell him what he wanted?

Next time he saw you he would fuck that pretty mouth. That way you wouldn’t repeat such insolent words.

He gasped, imagining you on your knees with those beautiful eyes glaring at him, full of defiance.

You were attracted to him. It was obvious. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have dragged him into the restroom and kissed him stupid. You only showed resistance when he straight-up told you he wanted to mark you.

Okay, maybe that wasn’t the right thing to say to someone he had just met, but Chenle never had been one to beat around the bush. He probably would have told you all that even if he hadn’t entered his rut.

He wouldn’t let you go that easily next time.

You would be his.

“I want you…” he murmured like he was talking to you. “I want you,” he repeated, this time louder and more secure. “I want you, I want you, I want you—Oooh!” He gasped and his legs trembled as he reached his long-overdue orgasm and white liquid covered his hand.

He continued stroking his cock lazily as he slid down the wall.

That was the best orgasm he had ever had. And it had just been a quickie with his hand.

Oh God…he hoped Yuta had left already. He must have, because he couldn’t smell him anymore.

“Y/N,” he whispered. “I want you,” he declared, practicing what he would say next time he saw you.

His head was clear now and he knew that he had to have you. Whatever possessed him to say he didn’t was gone.

His hand sped up again, this time without a single ounce of guilt or hesitation, aiming to enjoy every sensation the thought of you was giving him and finishing his rut fast to go back to that damn bar.

And he did just that.

A couple of days later you were taking orders and preparing drinks as usual when a familiar ID card was slid toward you on the counter.

Chenle.

You tried not to show your nervousness. After all, you had hypnotized him, so he surely wasn’t back for you. He probably just wanted a drink.

You cleared your throat and tried your best to avoid eye contact. “What can I get you?” you asked curtly.

“I want your number,” the familiar voice said.

You looked up, surprised.

There he was, glaring at you with such intensity you just knew he had managed to escape your spell. In just two days.

“No,” you replied, trying to hide your agitation.

“No?” he echoed.

“I’m not interested,” you half-lied. Were you interested in him? Yes. Were you interested in a commitment to life with him? No.

“You were interested when I offered to suck on your tits,” he reminded you, making a few people turn their heads in shock.

You were mortified.

“Y/N, Can you get some whiskey from the storage room?” Yeosang’s voice called as he stood in front of you. “I’ll be taking your order, sir.”

You nodded, mentally thanking Yeosang and making your way to the storage room, just to see Chenle trying to follow you by walking around the counter.

“Sir,” Yeosang spoke harshly this time, as he positioned himself in front of Chenle again. “I said I would be taking your order.”

“I’m not done talking to her,” Chenle said.

“I think you are,” Yeosang replied with a polite smile, crossing his arms and displaying perfectly sculpted muscles.

Chenle didn’t work out as hard as some of his pack members and he had no experience fighting so he knew this guy would probably knock him out with a single hit. But his wolf kept telling him to fight this bartender guy who dared to hide his mate from him.

“I just want to talk to her,” Chenle spoke through gritted teeth, trying his best to calm himself down.

“Do you want to talk to him?” Yeosang asked you.

You looked at Chenle and then at Yeosang, before sighing and giving Yeosang a short nod.

“Fine. But over there, where I can see you,” Yeosang warned him, pointing at an empty table in a corner.

“Thank you,” Chenle mumbled before walking to where he was told to go and taking a seat to wait for you. He was a nervous wreck, but he would never admit to it.

“Here,” you said, placing a glass of water in front of him before sitting on the chair next to him.

“Thanks,” he replied curtly and took a sip of water, trying to remember what he had come to say. It was hard to concentrate when you were looking at him with those captivating eyes.

You also drank some water to calm your nerves as anxious thoughts invaded you. Had he figured out what you had done? If so, you should probably apologize now that he seems to be open to dialogue.

“Sorry,” you both said at the same time.

Both of you seemed surprised at what they heard from the other.

“Uh…,” you stuttered trying to figure out how to continue from there.

“Sorry, did you want to–...” Chenle vaguely gestured for you to speak first.

“No! You first,” you urged.

“Okay, uh…,” he cleared his throat. “I’m sorry if I scared you the other day.”

“...Scare me?” you echoed.

He nodded.

“That whole biting thing and the things I said…I won’t lie and say I didn’t mean them. I meant every single word. But I understand that’s not how normal conversations go when you just meet someone. I got carried away.”

You nodded too.

“I would like to start over if you’re okay with that,” he offered hopefully. “We don’t have to do anything like that night. We can just…talk and get to know each other.”

You took another sip of your drink while Chenle waited for your answer.

“I don’t think so,” you finally said, looking away when you saw Chenle’s eyes widen in distress. “I don’t date.”

“You d-don’t…,” Chenle repeated dumbly. “What?! Like at all?!”

You shrugged. “It’s not my thing.”

“Then what did you want from me that night?! A quick fuck?!”

“Yes. Exactly,” you admitted. “You thought you could find a wholesome relationship at a bar? How cute,” you teased him.

“It wouldn’t have mattered where I met you. I would have wanted you regardless,” he replied assertively.

“Mm, thanks,” you replied casually like your heart didn’t beat faster at his words. “But my answer’s still no.”

Chenle froze. What did you mean no? That was ridiculous! How would a wolf survive after being rejected by their mate?!

“We don’t have to call it dating,” he quickly said when he saw you standing up to leave.

You hesitated and looked at Chenle.

“What would you call it, then?” you asked him just out of curiosity, sitting down again. You wouldn’t change your mind regardless.

“Whatever you want,” he bargained, trying to look uninterested when he was actually desperate.

“Whatever I want,” you hummed. “So you’re okay with being fuckbuddies?”

He was conflicted. He didn’t want that exactly, but if that was his only hope to win you over, he would take it. He would take anything as long as you didn’t cut him off completely.

“Yes,” he spoke through gritted teeth.

“Hmm.. I don’t know,” you teased him a little more. He was just so cute when he was annoyed. “You’re not really my type.”

He poked his tongue on his cheek. “Why not?”

“You’re not very tall–”

“I’m not short either.”

“You're too impulsive.”

“Says the one who dragged me to the restroom.”

“And you’re younger than me.”

Chenle opened his mouth to speak and then he closed it again. He never told you his age–Oh, right, his ID!

“So what?” he asked.

“You won’t even ask how old I am?” you taunted him.

“Doesn’t matter. I bet you’re barely a couple of years older. And I would want you even if you were 10 years older. I don’t care.”

“But I care,” you lied.

He leaned closer to you. “Bullshit,” he laughed. Sounding confident for the first time in the conversation. “You knew my age that night when you had me pressed against the restroom wall.”

Your smirk dropped.

“You were moaning and humping my leg like you couldn’t get enough of me, but now I’m not your type?” he mocked. “I like that you’re playing hard to get. It’s cute,” he admitted. “Now can you drop the act and let me ruin you?”

You gulped.

“What makes you so sure that’s what I want?”

“Oh, please. Your pupils dilated when I said that,” he scoffed. “But what really gave you away was how wet you got as soon as you heard my voice. I can smell it, you know?”

You bit your lip and glared at him. “How do you know it wasn’t because of someone else?”

“Because the scent gets stronger whenever I speak,” he said hoarsely, making you shiver. “I have never met someone so…sensitive to sounds,” he purred, dangerously close to your ear.

You had to fight the urge to roll your eyes back in bliss. Sirens were indeed sensitive to sound and just like they used their voice to tempt their prey, they felt attracted to melodic voices too.

“It’s not bad, I guess,” you admitted.

“I like your voice too,” Chenle said. “Would love to hear you screaming, though.”

You inhaled sharply.

Chenle smirked triumphantly. Admittedly, he had come to see you to ask you out romantically, not sexually. But this approach seemed to work better with you and he was getting turned on too. “Let’s get out of here,” his sultry voice suggested and by your scent, he knew he had won.

“You’ll have to wait until closing hours,” you said, trying to act coyly even though your legs visibly shook when you stood up. “If you wanna wait here then you have to order something.”

“I’ll get a glass of whichever your favorite liquor is.”

Smooth. He was quite confident now that he was sure you liked him back.

“I only drink luxurious brands,” you lied, trying to intimidate him. “Can you afford it?”

Chenle handed you a black card and chuckled when you gasped.

“I think I’ll survive,” he said. “By the way, what did you want to apologize for?” He asked, remembering how the whole conversation had started.

“O-oh, just for…leaving you alone in the restroom that night,” you lied. “I’ll go get your drink,” you added and left before he had the chance to reply

“You okay?” Yeosang asked when you went back to the bar counter.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You guys looked close,” he commented teasingly. “Are you sure he’s not your mate?”

“I told you it’s not like that.”

Yeosang shrugged. “You looked tired and kind of pale these last two days but now you suddenly look like you slept 12 hours and had a four-course meal.”

“You’re seeing things, Sangie,” you laughed nervously.

“Hm… and you haven’t been feeling a tingle on your fingertips right?” Yeosang asked casually.

You almost dropped the glass you were holding. Your fingertips had started tingling the day before for no apparent reason so you had assumed you had an allergic reaction to something.

“Why do you ask?” You inquired.

“It’s one of the signs of siren imprinting,” he replied distractedly as he handed a drink to a customer.

“Why didn’t you mention it when I asked you the other night?!” You asked him urgently.

“I forgot,” he said simply.

“Any other symptoms I should be aware of?” You asked in an irritated tone.

“You said you were sure you weren’t mates, so I don’t think so.”

“Okay, but what if we were mates? What else would I need to know?” You insisted. “Hypothetically,” you added when he gave you an inquisitive look.

“Well, I guess hypothetically, you should be aware that for sirens pleasure is very important and that orgasms strengthen the bond,” he commented. “Once your mate makes you orgasm then you’ll be tied to him forever,” he said.

You scoffed. “So I would belong to any man who makes me cum? That’s ridiculous! I’ve never felt that way after sex.”

“Because none of them was your mate. None of them made your fingers tingle in a funny way, or feel energized as soon as you saw them, or made you feel like you would explode if you didn’t kiss them—“

“Chenle doesn’t make me feel like that either!” You lied, feeling called out.

“Then you have nothing to worry about, right?” he agreed. “This is all hypothetical.”

“But, hypothetically, if Chenle and I were mates and I wanted to…hang out with him…”

“Hang out as in…having sex?” Yeosang clarified.

“Uh,y-yes,” you replied. “Let’s say I want to have sex with him but I don’t want to consummate the bond. How should I do it?”

“Pleasure, especially orgasms, are what seal the bond between mates. If Chenle is your mate and you want to fool around with him but you don’t want to be tied to him, then all you gotta do is make sure he doesn’t make you cum,” he explained like he had a PhD in this stuff.

You looked at him, dumbfounded. “I don’t get to feel good?”

“You can if you’re willing to accept him as your forever mate,” he shrugged. “Hypothetically,” he added mockingly.

He always knew when you were lying, so he was sure you were crazy about Chenle even if you denied it.

You sighed. “Fuck…”

“Y/N, would it really be that bad?” Yeosang sighed too, trying to understand why you were so against the idea of being in a romantic relationship. “You imprinted on him, and he imprinted on you too. Why not accept and enjoy it?”

“And being stuck in a boring town with a stupid mutt as a companion for the rest of my life?” you hissed. “Sangie, you know me! I can’t stay in one place or be with one person! I’m a free spirit!”

“Then don’t get involved with someone who clearly is serious about you?” Yeosang offered, confused at your dilemma.

“But I want him so bad!” you whined.

“Then go get him?”

“But I don’t want him forever.”

Yeosang clicked his tongue, expressing disapproval. “You’re so selfish sometimes…”

“I’m literally just a girl,” you countered. “I’m allowed to have fun–Oh, that’s right! I can just stop before I cum, right?” you gasped, excited at the discovery of a loophole.

Yeosang didn’t reply. He shook his head in disbelief and went back to preparing drinks.

You were too excited to worry about his criticism. Taking orders and stealing glances at Chenle who wouldn’t look away from you during your entire shift. He waited patiently for you to finish working but the anticipation was killing him, and when you finally approached him after cleaning your workstation, he grabbed your hand and took you out of the bar in a hurry, observed by a very conflicted Yeosang.

Considering he had a black card, you weren’t surprised when you found yourself sitting in a luxurious car that screamed rich. You knew nothing about cars, yet you knew this one was expensive. This guy was a big deal.

“Are you even allowed to drive, pup?” you teased him when he sat in the driver’s seat. It was a dumb question, just aiming to make him feel smaller as a way to gain back your power.

“Put on your seat belt,” he commanded, ignoring your question.

“Ah, I guess you’re still a learner driver,” you said, chuckling. “It’s okay, don’t be embarrassed.”

Before you could blink he was hovering over you, looking into your eyes sternly.

“Do you have any idea of how hard it is to focus on driving when you’re soaked sitting next to me?” he asked slowly, threateningly. “I’m suffocating on your scent, so sorry if I want to keep you safe while I speed to get us somewhere private.”

Blank.

You couldn’t think of anything to say.

No smart comebacks. No teasing.

You were sure all that would leave your mouth right now was a pathetic moan, so you opted to keep quiet.

That seemed to please Chenle.

“Good girl,” you heard him whisper before a clicking sound told you he had successfully fastened your seat belt.

He accommodated himself and put on his seat belt before starting the car and driving in complete silence. He was gripping the steering wheel with so much strength that his knuckles were turning white. His jaw was tense and he kept his eyes strictly on the road because he knew if he looked at you he would stop the car and take you right there.

You didn’t say anything either. Aroused yet annoyed at the power he effortlessly held over you. You would find a way to gain control again soon.

When the car stopped, Chenle quickly got off and walked around the vehicle to open the door for you.

“What a gentleman,” you cooed, back in the game, allowing him to help you out of the car.

“Not for long,” he spoke under his breath, once again taking your hand to drag you into the fanciest hotel you had ever seen.

You tried not to let it show that you were impressed.

“I guess your place wasn’t good enough to take me there…,” you taunted once you reached the elevator and he pressed the button with the highest number on it.

“My place is too crowded. But we can go there if you don’t mind the entire pack listening,” he commented, still holding your hand firmly.

“Like you could make me moan,” you scoffed.

Chenle huffed. He was so ready to fuck that attitude out of you. “We’re about to find out,” he said, guiding you out of the elevator and into the room he had booked.

You couldn’t help your gasp.

“Is this the presidential suite–?” you turned to ask but were interrupted by Chenle kissing you hotly, pressing your back against the door you had just entered through.

The kiss was wet, unpractised, desperate. He tasted like liquor and his skill wasn’t perfect, yet it was somehow the best kiss you’d ever had. The lack of air in your lungs and the way his hands held your waist with his hips pressed against yours firmly, made you feel deliciously dizzy and craving for more.

You let out a broken moan and Chenle chuckled.

“You said I’m not your type and that I can’t make you moan, huh? ” he whispered, pressing his hips harder against yours and making you whine. “I haven’t even done anything, yet you’re enjoying yourself so much,” he cooed, licking your earlobe.

You shivered. “S-shut up–”

“Look at you, so precious,” he continued, moving his hips in a circular motion that had you closing your eyes and moaning louder. “Are you gonna cum just from this?”

Your eyes snapped open in realization and you pushed him away abruptly, almost making him fall on the floor.

He looked at you with wide eyes, confused and worried. “What? Was I too rough?” he asked.

You exhaled shakily and tried to regain some composure. If what Yeosang said was true, then you absolutely couldn’t cum. Not by Chenle’s doing. You were going to have some fun with him, make out, and maybe torment him a little bit, but you wouldn’t let him get you off.

“Did you bring me here to hump me and cum in your pants? What was I expecting from a dumb pup,” you sighed, feigning disappointment.

He squinted his eyes and clenched his fist.

“I’m feeling charitable today, so I’ll offer you a deal,” you said, smiling sweetly and walking towards the master bedroom, with Chenle tailing you. “I’ll get you off and then you’ll drive me home,” you declared, sitting on the huge bed.

“Get me off?” he repeated dumbly, standing in front of you. “What about you?”

“You think you can get me off?” you sneered.

“I was about to before you pushed me away,” he growled.

“Please, that was not me about to cum,” you lied. “It’s just a little act us women put on to make guys feel good.”

“I’m sure you were about to–” he insisted.

“Yeah? Do you think you know my body better than me? Why would I have stopped you if I was feeling that good?”

Chenle blinked a couple of times, processing that maybe he had read your body language wrong and disappointed you. He wasn’t crazy experienced, but the few lovers he had had hadn’t complained. Surely he couldn’t be that bad…

Or could he?

Oh no…You had agreed to meet with him only for sex and he couldn’t even do that, right? Fuck, he couldn’t lose you now. He would do anything.

“Let me try again,” he proposed, climbing on the bed and trying to kiss you, but you turned away.

“If you’re not going to follow my rules, I’m leaving,” you threatened.

His eye twitched. He wanted to spank you until your ass turned red and pound you on the bed until you behaved. He wasn’t one to take orders. But he wanted to do things right with you. Now that he was thinking somewhat clearly, he wanted you to be with him willingly, instead of biting you and forcing you into a relationship. He wanted you to want him. And if that meant he had to lower his head for now and re-learn all he knew about sex, then so be it.

“What do you want me to do?” he finally asked.

“Just be a good pup and take your pants off for me, will you?” you asked and giggled. That little giggle that drove Chenle crazy.

He cringed at the pet name but he did as he was told, standing up and unbuckling his belt. You loved your men obedient, but even if his actions were compliant, his eyes failed to hide his obstinate nature. Anyone could tell he wasn’t used to submitting to anyone.

You smirked, willing yourself to pester him with some other brazen comment when the sound of his belt and pants hitting the floor brought your attention toward his barely covered center.

Shocking. Scandalous. Massive.

The pair of gray boxers could barely contain what was in there.

You had seen big before, but not this big.

“What now?” Chenle deadpanned. He wasn’t loving this situation.

“What now?” you laughed, swallowing back the saliva that pooled in your mouth when you were daydreaming about his cock. “There’s already a stain of precum on your underwear. I think you could cum without me doing anything at all.”

Chenle sighed, frustrated. “Look, if you don’t want to do this–”

“Come closer,” you commanded.

Chenle bit his lower lip. He wanted to say so many things, but he controlled himself and walked until he was mere centimeters away from you.

Ignoring his blazing glare, you hooked your index fingers on the elastic of his boxers and lowered them lazily, hearing his breath stutter.

There it was. Hard, thick, and huge right in front of your face.

You hoped Chenle hadn’t noticed your thighs rubbing, or that he magically couldn’t smell your wetness, but when you looked up at him his eyes were glimmering with mischief. He had noticed alright.

Before he could say anything smart, you blew the reddened tip of his cock, making him groan. You gave him a sickeningly sweet smile. “You okay, pup?”

He glared at you, gulping audibly, and gave you a short nod.

“If it’s too much for you,” you purred, tracing the length softly with your fingernails and making him shiver. “We can stop, you know?”

He shook his head. “N-no.”

You laughed, finally circling him with your fist and giving him a firm tug that made him groan. When you built up a steady rhythm, his knees buckled and his hands quickly landed on your shoulders to avoid completely collapsing.

Noticing how difficult it was for him to stand while being so overwhelmed with pleasure you stopped your caress to make him an offering. “Climb here,” you instructed, patting at your lap.

Chenle, who had gasped dramatically at the sudden lack of stimulation, looked at you like you were crazy.

“You don’t wanna sit on mommy’s lap, pup?” you faked a pout, sitting further back on the bed to make more space for him.

“I’m not a fucking pup!” he snapped. He had tried to be good, but you were stepping over the line. “I’m not a fucking virgin either so stop treating me like one and I don’t care if you’re older than me I’m not calling you mommy.”

You glared at him, unamused. You could just threaten to leave, but seeing how annoyed he was, he would probably let you. And that wasn’t the plan. You still wanted to have some more fun.

“What a shame,” you sighed, parting your legs just enough for him to catch a whiff of your arousal. “I was getting excited…”

Chenle forgot immediately about his anger, keeping his eyes on your hands that were slowly pulling your skirt up your thighs.

“Thought that maybe you could make me feel good,” you pouted. “ But I guess I was wrong.”

Chenle shook his head and climbed on the bed. “No, no, I can,” he whispered, pecking your lips. “I’ll make you feel good, ” he promised.

You bit back a smirk, which soon turned into a yelp when Chenle pushed you so you lay flat on your back with him on top of you and slid his hand under your skirt and right into your panties. “C-chenle!”

“Yes,” he whispered against your lips, drunk on your scent. “Yes, I’m here. I’m here for you.”

“O-oh!” you moaned when his index went straight for your clit and stroked it skillfully. “Oh my g-god–Chenle wait a min–Mmm!”

He hummed in delight. The sounds you made were so beautiful.

“I’ll make it good this time, okay?” he panted, stroking you faster and making your back arch. “I’ll make you cum for sure,” he guaranteed.

“P-pup, slow down, m´kay? Aah… s-slow…I–fuck…I said I w-wanted to get y-you off, remember?”

“That’s because you think I can’t do the same for you,” he protested. “But I’ll show you I can.”

Fuck, he was determined. If he was just a random hookup you would appreciate it, but right now that was the last thing you wanted.

“H-hey, Chenle–aah…” you called for him, grabbing the wrist of his hand that was working hard to make you see heaven. “I can’t come j-just like th-aah…” you spoke shakily, trying to discourage him. “Y-you can try a–haa– again n-next time–”

Chenle kissed your lips and hushed you. “You’re close,” he assured you, and he wasn’t wrong. You could feel your toes curling and your abdomen tensing.

It was about to snap.

Oh no. No, no.

You didn’t want to do this to him again, but…

“C-chenle, listen to me,” you caught his attention by grabbing his face with both your hands. “You don’t really want to g-get me off,” you told him, using that alluring voice that always got you what you wanted.

His movements slowed down. “What are you talking about?” he whispered incredulously.

“You just want me to m-make you cum and then you’ll be satisfied,” you said like you were reminding him of something he had forgotten, silly him.

His fingers stilled on your pulsating clit and he seemed lost, like he had no idea what to do with himself now.

“You only want to sleep with me, no strings attached, remember?” you breathed out, relieved that the pleasure was fading away.

“Yes, I…I remember,” he muttered.

“And we agreed that we would do things my way,” you informed him.

“We did,” he agreed.

“Good pup,” you sighed, pulling his hand out of your panties. “I’ll take care of you, okay?”

He looked at you with furrowed brows. He felt so weird. What you said made sense, but why did it feel wrong?

You bit your lip when you saw a dash of hesitation in his eyes. How come he was so resistant to your hypnosis? You had to make him stop thinking.

“Relax,” you told him, caressing his still-clothed shoulders, arms, and stomach.

“Somethings’s wrong,” he admitted.

“Nothing’s wrong.” you purred, reaching his member and resuming your touch.

He moaned and almost collapsed on top of you. “Y-Y/N…”

“Relax,” you repeated.

“I…Ooh– I f-feel… like s-something’s missin–ah… ah, ah–Mmm…,” he spoke incoherently, thrusting into your fist.

“Mm? What could be missing?”

“Y/N–”

“Doesn’t it feel good?”

“ ‘S good– so fucking g–Ooooh…” he whined.

“Are you gonna cum for me?” you asked.

“Haa… gonna– y-yeah, ah…,”

“Then cum,” you encouraged.

He hid his face in the crook of your neck and came with a choked moan, convulsing on top of you and spilling all over your hand.

You had to use a massive amount of self-control to avoid cumming at the sight. He sounded and looked beautiful, and even the tiny aftershocks that made his body convulse were kind of cute.

You don’t know what took over you when one of your hands started playing with his hair like you would with a lover. He hummed contently nuzzling your neck.

“My mate,” he murmured sweetly, placing a gentle kiss on your collarbone.

You froze. That wasn’t very ‘no strings attached’ of him.

“Alright, get dressed,” you instructed, pushing him off you and getting off the bed. “Time to drive me home.”

He looked so vulnerable, naked from the waist down, displaying his spent cock covered in clear liquid, and his face flushed red while he looked at you like a kicked puppy. He opened his mouth to say something, but he closed it again. The feeling that something was off came back but he had no idea what it was.

In the end, he sighed and did as he was told. For some reason, he didn’t feel satisfied at all and he kept overthinking even when he got home.

He didn’t know what to tell everyone when they cornered in the kitchen the next morning.

“You said you would keep me updated so I had my phone with me at all times,” whined Jisung, following Chenle to the table. “But you didn’t text me once!

“Jisungie was about to go find you,” Renjun sighed. “I told him that if you didn’t text him it was because you were probably busy.”

“I text you guys even if I’m busy!” Jisung complained.

“Really? Do you text us even when you’re balls deep in your girlfriend?” Haechan asked nonchalantly, making Jisung gasp, Mark choke on his cereal and earning a glare from Renjun.

“Language!” Kun warned from the sofa, without looking up from his book. He had arrived from one of his trips a few days ago and he was not impressed by how much the pack’s manners had worsened.

“Sorry,” Haechan said even though everyone knew he wasn’t sorry.

“Is t-that what you were…” Jisung tried to ask Chenle, blushing and stuttering.

“What?” Asked Chenle, munching on his sandwich.

“Were you… balls deep in Y/N?” Jisung asked shyly, waiting for Kun to reprimand him. But no nagging came. Kun was as silent as the rest of the guys, waiting for Chenle’s answer.

Chenle groaned. “Do you have to say it like that?”

“So you were!” Haechan accused, getting ready to celebrate another successful love story in the pack.

“No!” Chenle groaned. “I was with her, but we didn’t get that far.”

“How far did you get?” Haechan asked.

“You don’t have to answer that,” Renjun said.

But Chenle knew they would pester him until he spilled the tea.

“We talked and we made a deal,” He said, omitting that you had completely dominated him.

“What type of deal?” Mark asked.

He was hoping Renjun told him he didn’t have to answer this one either, but Renjun seemed curious too.

“We agreed to get to know each other physically, for now,” he grumbled.

Everyone’s smiles dropped.

“You mean like sex stuff?” Mark asked awkwardly.

“Yes.”

“But not dating?” Renjun asked, exchanging worried looks with the others.

“…No, we uh—we don’t call it dating.”

“What do you call it, then?” Haechan asked. Even he had stopped eating.

“We’re fuckbuddies…”

Renjun, Mark, Haechand, and Jisung didn’t know if that was good or bad news.

On the negative side, it could mean that Chenle’s mate didn’t take him seriously and didn’t want a relationship with him.

In a more positive light, she hadn’t completely rejected him.

“That’s great!” Haechan decided it was good news. “It means she’s attracted to you.”

“Yeah,” Mark agreed. “And it can grow into something more as time goes by.”

Renjun remained silent. He wasn’t that optimistic.

“So..” Jisung finally spoke. “You’re sleeping together but you’re not… together?”

Chenle shrugged. “Yeah, we don’t need labels. It’s whatever.”

“Are you sure that’s okay?” Jisung asked.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Chenle asked, feigning indifference. “I’ve never been a relationship person.”

“But she’s your mate,” Jisung insisted, while the others observed quietly.

“So?”

“Doesn’t she make you want to be a relationship person?!” Jisung asked exasperatedly.

“We’re fine,” Chenle sighed. “She doesn’t want to date anyone anyways,” he murmured.

Kun’s laugh startled everyone and annoyed the fuck out of Chenle.

“What’s so funny, gege? He asked.

“You really know nothing about women,” Kun said, grabbing a chair and joining them on the table.

Chenle glared at him. He wanted to tell him that he knew what he needed to know… but he remembered the humiliation of not knowing how to make you feel good and you looking down on him as a sexual partner and he decided that maybe it wouldn’t hurt to hear Kun’s words. “What is it that I don’t know?”

“Have you never watched (500) Days of Summer?” Kun asked.

“OH! I know that one! There’s this girl with really big eyes, right?” Mark replied and Haechan and Jisung started guessing and mispronouncing the name of the actress.

“Does the girl end up with the main guy?” Kun’s voice interrupted their animated conversation.

“No,” Renjun sighed. This was exactly what he was worried about and he was glad Kun thought the same.

“What’s that stupid movie have to do with me?” Chenle asked.

“Every woman wants a relationship eventually, but they don’t give themselves to just anyone,” Kun explained, not shying away from Chenle’s furious eyes. “If she doesn’t want a relationship it’s because she hasn’t met anyone worth being in a relationship with.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Chenle growled.

“She doesn’t see you as a potential partner, so she’ll have fun with you until the man of her dreams steals her away.”

Chenle stood up abruptly, not caring about his elder talking, his half-eaten sandwich, and his friends’ worried eyes. He walked out of the house and slammed the door behind him.

“I didn’t really understand the movie,” Jisung admitted.

But even he knew that his best friend was in some deep shit.

Hoping to calm down, Chenle went to the beach for a walk. He needed some fresh air and time to think. And the smell of the ocean reminded him of you, so it helped him lower his anxiety.

He wasn’t just annoyed at what Kun said, but at what he himself kept saying.

Why did he say what you two had was whatever?

Why did he keep saying he didn’t want a relationship with you? Why didn’t he want it?!

What type of werewolf doesn’t want to commit to his mate?

Younger him would have loved the idea of a hot older woman getting him off without wanting anything in return. It was every teenager’s fantasy.

But he wasn’t a teenager anymore and you weren’t a fantasy. You were the real deal; the woman he was destined to spend the rest of his life with.

He sat on the sand, feeling defeated and tried to collect his thoughts to figure out where this whole ‘I don’t wanna date Y/N’ thing came from.

First,, he met you at the bar and he made it very clear he wanted to mark you and even marry you.

Then you told him that’s not what he actually wanted and he agreed.

During his rut, he came to his senses and decided to ask you out properly.

He did ask you out. You said no, but you were open to casual sex with him.

He didn’t want just sex with you, but he thought that was the only way to spend time with you so he agreed.

You made out and then you pushed him away and told him he couldn’t please you.

You told him he only wanted to get off and nothing else.

He agreed.

Why did he agree?! Why didn’t he make you cum too?!

“What the fuck’s wrong with me?” he groaned.

“What the fuck’s wrong with you?” You asked Yeosang.

“Nothing,” he replied calmly.

��You sound like you’re mad at me.”

“I’m not mad. I’m disappointed,” he clarified.

You groaned. “I told him I didn’t want a relationship and he agreed.”

“Did he?” He challenged. “Or did you use your siren voice to convince him?”

You looked away.

“That’s not fair Y/N,” he murmured.

“He agreed before I bewitched him,” you defended yourself.

“Then why did you even have to bewitch him?” He asked, knitting his brows.

“I uh… didn’twannacum,” you barely whispered.

“Huh?”

You licked your lips in annoyance. “To make sure he didn’t make me cum,” you repeated, louder.

Yeosang’s jaw hung open. “Unbelievable.”

“He’s fine,” you rolled your eyes and finished whipping the counter. “I made sure he finished—“

“I’m done,” Yeosang interrupted you. “I don’t wanna talk to you until you understand what the problem is,” he spoke firmly and walked away from you to take a customer’s order.

Your heart broke. In the four years you had known each other Yeosang had never been mad at you.

You knew he was right. You shouldn’t have done that to Chenle…but you had never liked someone this much. He drove you insane with a desire that was somewhere between sexual and domestic. And that terrified you.

You loved working and traveling on the ship and you didn’t want anything to change. But would it really be that bad to enjoy your time in this town? Once the bar moved to its next destination you wouldn’t see Chenle again and you and Yeosang would go back to normal.

Everything was fine.

After a few nights, you texted Chenle to ask him to meet up after your shift, which he immediately agreed to, picking you up and taking you to the same luxurious room he had booked last time. In a matter of seconds, you had him sitting on the bed half-naked, with you on your knees in front of him, taking as much of his cock as you could in your mouth.

Chenle was taken aback, but once again, he let you do what you wanted. He was hoping that this time he would make you feel good too, and if he was lucky you would stay the night and he would wake up to your sleepy face–

“Fuck,” he hissed when you circled the tip with your tongue, spreading his legs wider.

You looked up at him and regretted it immediately because the view almost made you cum untouched. He was biting his lip to repress the moans and his eyes were half-lidded, and you thought no one could possibly look this hot.

You closed your eyes to avoid the arousing visual stimulation and focused on his taste only, which was weirdly addicting and made you salivate so much that the blowjob became even sloppier.

“Y/N…” he sighed. “I’m not g-gona last…”

You ignored him and bobbed your head faster. The plan was for him to not last. Not that you wanted this to end fast because you didn’t enjoy it, but because you wanted to get off soon, and for that, you had to go home while memories of Chenle were still fresh to pleasure yourself.

“Ooh fu–,” Chenle moaned. “Okay, f-fine, I got it– We’ll do it your w-way but,” he gulped and paused to take a deep breath and regain some self-control. “I get to make you feel good too–aaah!”

You chose that exact moment to deep-throat him.

“Haa…Y/N, fuck, fuck fuuuck,” he whined, daring to place his hands on your head and caress your hair. “Imma….Imma eat y-you out real good after this-Oh!” he lost his train of thought when you choked around him and he came in your mouth as you sucked him dry.

He let out one last broken moan when you released his member. He was panting and looking at you like you were a miracle.

“My turn,” he said darkly, pulling your arm until he had you sitting on his lap, kissing your face and neck all over while he unbuttoned your blouse.

“I–,” you stuttered. “I’m actually k-kinda tired.”

“Tired?” Chenle stopped his kisses and touches and looked at you in surprise before quickly collecting himself. “That’s okay, you don’t have to do anything. I’ll take care of you,” he promised as he finished opening your blouse.

You pulled away, with your blouse completely open, and looked down at a very confused Chenle.

“I’m not really in the mood anymore,” you shrugged and his mouth fell open in shock.

“A-are you sure? Because your scent–”

“Pretty sure. I’ll call a taxi,” you said, grabbing your phone.

“N-no, I’ll…I’ll drive you,” a very defeated Chenle said, slowly getting up and getting dressed.

Admittedly, you had made him feel very good. Hell, that was better than good, it was mind blowing. But he just couldn’t be satisfied if he was the only one who got to feel good.

He could smell how aroused you were, and sometimes he felt like he could taste how close you were to cumming. Yet he never had the chance to make it happen. He was afraid that if he didn’t fulfill his duty as a fuckbuddy you would end things real fast.

So he kept showing up whenever you called and doing whatever you wanted for about a month, only to be dismissed whenever he felt like he had you.

One night he had been particularly lucky; you had him completely naked, on his back, with you wearing only your bra, straddling him and letting him slide just the tip into the most delectable warmth known to him.

“You’re s-so good,” he muttered, fixated on the way the tip of his cock disappeared inside of you. “So good…” he repeated.

“Yeah? You like it?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady. You were more affected than you wanted to admit and you were playing a dangerous game because you had never been this close to cumming during your previous encounters with him. You should stop now and use your hand or mouth like you usually did, but he was stretching you so good.

“I love it,” he groaned, arching his back and licking his lips. “I love you,” he breathed out.

You moaned. For the first time in weeks you moaned.

He had just said he loved you. Three words you didn’t need in this type of relationship but that somehow brought a wave of pleasure to your body and made you lose strength and accidentally go lower, him sinking deeper in you.

Chenle watched in awe how you took more of him and he grasped your hips desperately.

You looked at each other with wide eyes as you tried to catch your breath.

But this time Chenle reacted faster than you did, snapping his hips up and making your vision go blurry.

Before you had time to recover he did it again. And then again, and again until he had you bouncing on his lap.

“C–Chenle, let m-me…,” you moaned, placing your hands on his lower abdomen to stop him from thrusting up. “Let m-me do it, pup,” you offered, knowing that if he kept it up you would cum soon.

He stared back at you, disobediently, and since you weren’t letting him push his hips up freely, he brought you down, hitting a spot that had you gasping for air.

“Shh…I–I got it,” he spoke through gritted teeth, speeding up and trying to hold back his own orgasm to pleasure you.

Your body tensed in his firm grasp and the volume of your angelic moans escalated.

A sense of pride filled his chest.

He was making his mate feel good.

He was finally going to make you cum.

“Yes, yes, come on, c-come on, come on,” he muttered urgently.

“NO!” you yelled. “STOP!”

He hesitated momentarily and it was enough for you to break free and run to the bathroom, leaving poor, flustered Chenle on the bed alone.

You entered the bathroom and locked the door behind you, leaning against the door and taking deep breaths to calm down, but the tingling feeling in your center was urgent. You normally waited until you got home to touch yourself after meeting up with Chenle, but your orgasm was right there. You just couldn’t wait.

So you didn’t.

You held your breath and inserted a finger inside of you, trying to get yourself off before Chenle came looking for you–

“Y/N?”

Fuck.

“Y/N, are you okay?” he asked from the other side of the door.

“Mmhm, a-all good,” you said quickly, working yourself faster.

“Can you open the door?” he asked worriedly.

“J-just give me a minute,” you spoke a little out of breath and bit your lip to catch any lewd sound that could give you away.

You didn’t hear him say anything else for a few seconds, but then the door handle shook hastily. He was trying to enter.

“Just a m-minute!” you repeated, closing your eyes at the incoming climax.

“What are you doing?” He growled from the other side, struggling with the handle.

A few whimpers escaped you when your thumb grazed your clit and he banged on the door loudly.

“Open the door!” he commanded. “Y/N I swear to god if you’re doing what I think you’re doing—”

You came with a shaky moan. It wasn’t scandalously loud, but he heard it for sure.

The door you were leaning on opened abruptly and you fell in the same arms that had you shaking earlier. When you looked up you were met with his livid eyes.

He turned you around hastily and brought the hand you had used to pleasure yourself to his face, easily seeing the sticky liquid spread on your fingers.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” he yelled

You were petrified, trying to come up with an excuse for your behavior. Nothing you could possibly say would make sense.

“I was so close to making you come but you ran away just so you could finish yourself in the bathroom?!”

You sighed. “I’ll help you finish now–”

“You think that’s what’s bothering me?!”

“Then what’s bothering you?” you asked dismissively. “Can’t a woman make herself feel good?”

“Of course you can! When you have no one to take care of you–” he let out a frustrated groan. “What I mean is that I’m right here, and I’m dying to make you feel good, but whenever I think I’m doing a good job you run away and take it away from me!”

“Maybe you’re not doing as much of a good job as you think,” you lied.

“Then teach me!” he basically implored. “Tell me what you like for once instead of making me cum as fast as you can and leaving.”

“Chenle,” you spoke more gently, making him look at you, and once again using that voice. “Trust me, you’re getting so much better. Just a few more nights and you’ll have enough experience to be allowed to touch me,” you offered.

His expression became softer, but he still looked hesitant, as he always did whenever you used your powers on him.

“I can’t let just anyone touch me,” you continued. “You have to earn it, don’t you think?”

“...Earn it?” he echoed, dismally.

“And you’re almost there, pup. But you have to keep doing as I say, okay?”

He nodded slowly and automatically. “Okay…”

“Good pup,” you praised him, caressing his hip. “Now, we can continue–”

“Actually,” he interrupted, gently pushing your hands away. “I’m kinda tired. Can we call it a night?”

You opened your mouth dumbly. “I…uh–Sure…”

“Thanks,” he murmured. “I’ll drive you home after I take a shower, okay?”

“Okay…,” you agreed, watching him go into the bathroom and close the door.

You tried not to think too much about it, but for the next couple of days, it killed you to think that maybe he was getting bored of you. But how could it be? Didn’t he say he imprinted on you?

You didn’t want to commit to him, but you also didn’t want him to move on from you.

So when you received a message from Chenle asking if you had some time to hang out you typed your answer so fast anyone who saw you would know you were desperate.

Oh, how the tables had turned.

He picked you up and took you to the hotel as usual. Things seemed to be going the usual way, but when you opened the door you saw that the entire place was gracefully illuminated with candles and there was food on the table.

“What’s all this?” You asked.

“Dinner,” he replied, walking you to the table.

“What’s with the candles?”

“I like candles.”

“Don’t you think it’s too… intimate?” You asked, pointing at the decoration vaguely.

Chenle pulled a chair out and made you sit down by pushing your shoulders firmly.

“I’ve been inside you. It doesn’t get more intimate than that,” he deadpanned before walking around the table and sitting in front of you.

“Chenle, this looks like a date,” you pointed out.

“I guess it kinda does,” he admitted.

“That’s not part of the deal.”

“Oh? The deal won’t allow us to eat?”

“Not like this,” you said for a lack of better words to explain yourself. “It’s like you’re tricking me into dating you.”

“It’s just food and some wine. Don’t be dramatic,” he said before he started eating.

Hesitantly, you followed. He was right, it didn��t have to be romantic. You could do what you normally do after dinner. And the food was delicious! You enjoyed it so much that you lowered your guard and didn’t mind Chenle’s trivial questions about your life and the things you liked.

He looked more relaxed too after having a normal conversation with you and it made the atmosphere more enjoyable and sensual by the time you reached the bedroom, giggling as you undressed each other.

Chenle was in a great mood; teasing and joking as he climbed on top of you and kissed your face. He was also more obedient than usual letting you do as you pleased and waiting for your permission to touch you.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he laughed breathlessly, one hand by each side of your head to keep himself from crushing you while you pressed a bullet vibrator on the base of his cock.

“Good?” You teased, moving it up slowly until it reached the tip and then back to the base, making him moan shamelessly.

“Y-yeah,” he whispered, pecking your lips. “Everything m-‘my princess does f-feels amazing.”

Maybe the wine had taken its toll on you because you low-key liked that petname.

“Your princess?” You giggled, moving the small toy up and down deliberately.

Chenle’s eyes rolled back in pleasure. “Mhmm, you like that? Y-you wanna be my pretty princess?”

You nodded dumbly, drunk in desire, wine, and—even though you didn’t want to see it—adoration.

“You c—aah…You c-can be my princess anytime, you k-know that, yeah?” He half-moaned, blindly thrusting against the tiny toy you used on him.

“Y-yeah?” You croaked, licking your lips.

“Myeah, and I’ve…mmm fuck right there,” he hissed when you pressed the vibrator right under the head. “I’ve b-been a good p-pup for you, right?”

You nodded. “The best,” you said before giving him a kiss that was a little bit more affectionate than intended.

“Don’t I des— haa… deserve a reward?” He pouted.

You giggled, turning up the intensity of the vibrations and making him whine desperately.

“Oohh—oh g-god, princess —,” he knitted his brows in concentration, making the biggest effort to say something coherent. “I—aah… I actually wanted—ah!”

“What is it?” You asked, putting the toy away momentarily to not overstimulate the poor wolf and give him the chance to speak.

He took a few deep breaths and looked into your eyes with determination. “Go out with me.”

You suddenly sobered up and your dreamy smile faltered. “Chenle, no—“

“Why not?” He croaked. “We have such great chemistry when we spend time together like two normal people. Or did you hate having dinner with me that much?”

“Dinner with you was great,” you assured him. “But that wasn’t our deal.”

“Let’s change the deal,” he pleaded.

“You said no strings attached,” you reminded him.

“No. You said that,” he accused.

“And you agreed.”

“I don’t know why I agreed!” He admitted. “Y/N, I—I don’t know why I keep saying those things; it makes no sense! I imprinted on you. I crave to be with you in every possible way, not just sexually. Can’t we at least try?”

“Chenle,” you sighed, feeling terrible. You didn’t mean for things to go this far. You thought any man would be happy with a shallow sexual agreement, but apparently it wasn’t Chenle’s case. You would have to use your voice again. “You don’t really want—Hhmp!“

Chenle’s hand covered your mouth before you could finish speaking. “Don’t,” he begged. “You always say weird stuff and I end up agreeing like an idiot.”

You let out muffled sounds and hit his arms but he didn’t budge. He was terrified of what you would convince him of if he let you speak.

So you quickly grabbed the vibrator that lay forgotten on the bed, turned it on on the highest setting, and pressed it harshly against the leaking tip of his cock.

He gasped and lost his balance and you managed to uncover your mouth and quickly finish your sentence: “You don’t want me!”

Chenle shook his head, distressed and trying to cover your mouth again, but you kept slapping his hand away while overstimulating his member. That, combined with the wine made his movements clumsy and inefficient. “P-please, d-don’t say tha—aaaah…”

“You don’t want to be with me. You only want me for sex,” you insisted and your voice almost broke when you saw Chenle’s saddening expression.

His imploring eyes finally turned into void ones, as expected when under a siren’s spell. At the same time, his body tensed and he came with a silent scream, staring into your soul.

You finally turned the toy off and the room was silent.

Then a hot, wet drop landed on your face. You looked up and saw abundant tears coming out of Chenle’s expressionless eyes.

“Chenle?”

“Yes?” He replied monotonously.

“Why are you crying?”

He blinked slowly. “I don’t know.”

Your stomach dropped. He looked so calm in his own daze, unaware of how you kept dismissing his feelings. Ignorant of how you kept convincing him of things he didn’t want whenever he tried to connect with you.

Yet he was crying.

Oh no. You had broken him.

You couldn’t stop yourself from crying too.

“What’s wrong?” He asked you quietly.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” you sobbed. “I’m trash—no, I’m worse than trash.”

He hesitantly placed a hand on your back. “No. You’re perfect…,” he assured you, just like he had told his leader a long time ago. Even in his confused state, he couldn’t think of you being anything but perfect.

You sobbed harder. He deserved better.

You cleaned him up and caressed his hair until he fell asleep. Then you sneaked out, feeling like you didn’t deserve to be around him.

Yeosang was right. You were selfish.

So you knocked on his door to apologize.

When Yeosang opened the door, he looked very surprised to see you, but he was more concerned about why you were awake and crying at 4AM.

“Y/N?” He asked, grabbing your hand gently. “What’s wrong?”

“Selfish is putting it lightly,” you said.

“Huh?”

“You said I’m selfish. But the truth is worse than that. I’m a bad person, Sangie. You’re right to be disappointed.”

He brought you into his room and closed the door, sitting you on his bed as he kneeled in front of you. “What happened?”

You told him everything. From the first encounter at the bar to what had just happened at the hotel.

Yeosang listened patiently, calming you down when your voice broke and encouraging you to go on when you sounded ashamed.

“Do you understand the problem now?” he asked.

You nodded, sobbing.

“People are not toys, Y/N.”

“I’m so s-sorry,” you whispered.

“I know. Recognizing your mistake is the first step,” he said, whipping your tears away with his thumb. “Now you need to fix things.”

“H-how?”

“By making a choice,” he confirmed what you were fearing. “Either you accept him–all of him, or you let him go.”

You nodded again. “That sucks.”

He chuckled. “It does,” he agreed, pulling you into a hug.

“I missed you,” you admitted, resting your head on his shoulder.

“I missed you too,” he said, hugging you tighter. He licked his lips before speaking again. “Sorry for asking this, but… did he make you–”

“Sangie!” you groaned, knowing what he was referring to.

“I’m not being nosy,” he explained quickly. “I know it’s personal, but if I’m asking it’s because it’s important.”

“He d-didn’t make me cum…” you confessed, feeling your face heat up.

“Ever?” he pressed.

“It almost happened many times,” you explained shyly. “But I always managed to stop it.”

“That’s impressive. It’s been about two months,” he calculated.

“Yeah,” you groaned. “Impressive.”

“Remember what I told you about orgasms?” he asked you

“Yeah,” you sighed. “That’s why I kept stopping him before it happened.

“That’s good news. It means you’re not completely tied to him,” he hummed. “Look, I contacted an old friend of mine—a siren. She imprinted once but she and her mate…they just had very different lifestyles. Different goals. So they didn’t consummate the bond.”

“Consummate meaning…?”

“She didn’t reach climax with her potential partner,” he explained. “Both of them went separate ways and never saw each other again. And you know what? She found love again.”

You pulled away from the hug to give him a surprised look. “She imprinted again?”

“No, not exactly,” Yeosang shook his head softly. “Sirens only imprint once in a lifetime. But she met someone else who could make her happy. What I’m trying to say is that you will live a good life no matter what you decide. Even if the goddess Amphitrite chose this guy for you, you can choose to live without him. And you will be fine.”

You bit your lip, deep in thought.

“Or if you want to stay with him–” Yeosang continued listing your options.

“No,” you whispered. “Not after the way I treated him. The most honorable thing to do is let him go so he can find a good partner.”

“Are you sure?” he asked hesitantly. “You could think it over–”

“No, Sangie…I’ve prolonged this long enough,” you gave him a sad smile. “The sooner I end this the better.”

Poor Chenle had no idea what transpired when he woke up alone in the same hotel room where he always met you, with a terrible hangover and missing you more than ever. He still hadn’t gotten used to the inexplicable emptiness in his chest that he felt every time he separated from you, but today it felt more haunting than usual. Not seeing you in the room made him question if you were ever there, or if you were just a product of Chenle’s imagination. Were you even real? Was he going crazy?

Thankfully your message took him out of what could have become an anxiety attack. You wanted to meet.

You had never contacted him two days in a row before. But what he found even weirder was that you were asking him to meet during the day. You also told him he didn’t need to book the room, which he found funny, because he owned the hotel, but he omitted that detail.

He went to pick you up at around 5PM, like you had requested, and he was taken aback when you asked him to go on a walk with him instead. If he was in his shifted form, he would be wagging his tail contently at the mere suggestion of sharing such a wholesome moment with you, but human Chenle was good at pretending he didn’t care.

He was so over the moon that he didn’t find it weird when you engaged in small talk and asked trivial questions like how he had slept if he had eaten or what his plans for the weekend were. You never cared much for any interaction with him which wasn’t quick sex, so this was a pleasant surprise for him.

You stopped at the beach. The same deserted beach where Chenle often went when he needed some time alone.

“I love this view,” you commented absentmindedly. “The ocean is the only place that makes me feel at home.”

Chenle took mental note of that. He would make sure to buy a house with the most beautiful ocean view.

He looked at you and stared in awe at how gorgeous you looked. He was sure it wasn’t the golden hour effect, because you always looked stunning to him.

You turned to look at him and caught him staring, so he cleared his throat and quickly looked away.

“Here,” he said, offering you a small shopping bag that he had been carrying.

“What’s this?” you asked curiously, opening the bag and taking out a delicate velvet box.

“It’s…for you,” he said, barely audible.

You opened the box and gasped when you saw what was probably the most beautiful and elegant necklace in the whole world. “Why?” you breathed out.

“I just saw it and thought of you.” he shrugged, still speaking very softly, like he was exhausted.

That was half true. He did choose it because he thought you would look ravishing.

The other reason was that he called Jaemin to ask him what that feeling of emptiness could mean, and he had theorized that it could be because he still hadn’t marked you. Since biting you was out of the question, Jaemin suggested he gave you a little token. It wouldn’t be as permanent as a mark, but his wolf surely would feel more at ease if he saw you carrying something of his.

Only Chenle would see costly diamond jewelry as tokens.

He looked at you attentively, panicking at your sudden loss of words.

“If it doesn’t suit your taste–”

“Let’s end things,” you said.

Now it was Chenle’s turn to be speechless.

“...W-what?” he asked weakly.

“I’ve been thinking about it and I think it’s for the best,” you explained, closing the box in your hand and putting it back in the bag, offering it back to him.

He glared at the bag offendedly. “No, it’s not!” he countered.

“Yes, it is,” you insisted, shaking the bag in your hand closer to him but he took a step back. “This isn’t working.”

“I’ll make it work,” he hissed. “You’re not fucking leaving me.”

“That’s not your choice–”

“Nothing has been my choice!” he yelled. “You’re always bossing me around and doing whatever you want but now it’s suddenly not working?! I didn’t put up with your shit for you to leave me like this–”

“See? You hate the way I treat you, so why do you want to keep this up?!” you asked, once again trying to make him grab the bag, but he grabbed your arm and pulled you towards him instead.

“Because I love you!” he growled. “And you know it, even if you play dumb. I know you see it in the way I look at you, I know you feel it in the way I touch you and I know you’ve heard me moan it when you have your way with me. Sometimes a weird voice in my head tells me that’s not true,and that what we have is just sex, but– that’s not my voice and—” he trailed off, trying to make sense of the opposing ideas he had in his head. “Yeah, I hate how much of a bitch you are sometimes, but I won’t give up on us, you hear me?!”

You almost gave in.

But you reminded yourself he deserved better.

There was one way he may let you go without you having to use

“I’m not happy with you, Chenle,” you said firmly.

His entire world came crashing down around him. He only reacted when he felt you trying to break free from his grasp. He tightened his hold on you. He was not going to let you go.

“Why not?” he breathed out.

“I’m just not,” you said, trying to keep the tears at bay. “I get nothing out of being with you.”

“I’ll change that. I’ll do anything you say–” he said, swallowing his pride.

“And then what?” you asked coldly.

“Then we–,” Chenle looked around nervously, and licked his lips, looking for the right thing to say, anything that would make you stay. “We become w-whatever you want us to–”

“So you’re okay with me leaving with my crew when the time comes?” you rolled your eyes. “I’m not staying here, and you’re not coming with me–”

“I’ll go,” he said quickly, squeezing your arm so hard it hurt. “I’ll go wherever you want–”

“I don’t want you to come with me, Chenle, fuck!” you screamed. “I want you to leave me the fuck alone, okay?!”

He froze, finally relaxing his deadly grasp on your forearm. You pulled away carelessly, dropping the precious gift on the sand, and walked away.

Chenle stayed right there for who knows how long.

He doesn’t even remember dragging his feet to get back home while hugging the wrinkled paper bag close to his chest. All he knows is that at some point he was fully clothed under the bed covers, feeling that dreaded emptiness expand inside of him.

#nct drabbles #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct smut #chenle #chenle x reader #chenle smut #chenle nct #chenle scenarios

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muffinsin · 28 days

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Hiya, I'm new to the blog but I've loved everything I've read so far! I was wondering if I could request the Dimitrescu daughters (separately) getting saved by a maiden that they thought hated them? Like, maybe a hunter breaks in + smashes a window and the maiden literally carries (or drags) the daughter to safety and refuses to leave their side until they've warmed up.

Maybe the maiden never actually hated the daughters (like a miscommunication/the maiden having a difficult to read expression), or maybe they stopped hating the Dimitrescus a while ago but nobody noticed? Idk, it's up to you, I just think you'd have a fun take on it :3

I went through the anon lists and hopefully I didn't miss any, so if possible can I be sleepy anon? Please and thank you, and have a great day/week!

Hi :)! I’m happy to hear ya like my works :)🙌 Honestly what a cute prompt!

Let’s get into it :) anon name is all yours🙌

Masterlists

Bela

Bela is, a mystery to you

To her, you seem like an enemy. A staff member, yet with a deep hatred towards her

Perhaps, if you weren’t so pretty and cute, perhaps if she didn’t like you in some strange way she is too proud to voice, you would’ve ended up in the basement already

Alas, Bela keeps you safe and only puts you in your place when your work isn’t done properly. She thinks you should consider yourself, lucky

To you, she seems like an uptight boss bent on punishing you for every little mistake

You wonder, what have you done for her to be this obsessed?

She notices every little mistake you make

A true perfectionist, you realize soon enough, and it bothers you to no end

But, unlike her interpretation of you, you don’t hate her. You don’t even really dislike her

She’s just..uptight, a little bitchy, yes. But she’s smart, you’ve come to notice, and quite obviously she is breathtakingly beautiful

Perhaps, if both of your false views and interpretations of one another were out the way, you’d have talked sooner

You would have liked to start a conversation with the supposedly dangerously intelligent and cold eldest daughter of Alcina Dimitrescu

Bela, on the other hand, would have liked getting to know you sooner

Still, she only ever sees false hatred in your eyes that is truly mere curiosity

She has never been all that good at reading people’s emotions

Their intentions? Yes, their facial features? Yes. But still, her books cannot teach her to fully understand humans, people, it seems

It’s a fatal misunderstanding on both your parts, one that this day will clear up, it seems

The day, while not being an ordinary one at all, is not all that unusual to Bela. An uprising, again, though somewhat cute in numbers

Four maidens. Bold, or perhaps only desperate enough, to dare fight back

It’s a pointless fight, a squabble she doesn’t even bother notifying her sisters about

Even with the many knives and utensils scattered around them in the kitchen, the fight seems pointless

That is, until Bela easily dodges a pot that smashes into the fragile window behind her

Immediately, she screams in pain at the cold air rushing in

The three remaining troublemakers spot their opportunity instantly, so it takes less than seconds for the other kitchen windows to be shattered

Bela grits her teeth, one arm wrapped around her protectively, her other hand clutching her sickle

She refuses to tell her sisters. Refuses to allow Mother to hear of this. She can do this! She can’t cause her family trouble. Cassandra would have never let this go on. Daniela would have killed them in seconds. Bela should have never let it come this far, should have prevented the window from breaking..

Throwing herself back into her battle, she strikes one down, but pays the bitter price when two steak knives are sliced and thrust into her thighs

Immediately, she falls, her blood gushing, her limbs aching and as if on fire. The cold immediately finds the large gashes and digs through. The blades of the knives seem icy cold like the terrain outside

She manages to knock one down with her, but as the back of her hooded head hits the windowsill, her vision begins to blur

One more

She tries to call out for Cassandra, hoping, pleading, Mother will hear nothing of this

To her surprise and horror, she finds she can’t reach her sister, too far away for her weakened swarm to detect

She grasps for her weapon, but can’t detect it. Was it lost when she fell? She can’t remember, but tastes her own, foul blood in her mouth

With difficulty, she sees the maiden’s lips moving. She can’t make out what she’s saying, but her expression enough is sufficient to allow her to assume it must be some kind of insult

Pride, cockiness, a human’s downfall

She watches as, seemingly out of nowhere, you stand behind her, bringing Bela’s abandoned sickle down at her neck

It’s messy, and rough, but enough for the woman to drop her weapon and scream. Enough to fall to her knees and enough for Bela to finish her off

Golden, unfocused eyes meet yours. She looks unsure. Worried. Confused. Cold. Hurt. Scared

Never did you think Bela Dimitrescu would feel such things. Never did you think you would truly see a glimpse of humanity in her

But, you have…

You have seen her eyes squint when she laughs with her sisters, seen the faintest hint of a blush and happiness hidden beneath pride when being praised by her mother. You have seen her playful annoyance aimed at her youngest sister

When you close in on her, her first instinct is to lean in. Then, nearly within that same moment, she snarls and pushes herself harder against the cold wall

You hate her. She has no reason to believe you are not part of this attack, or at the very least are now that her weakness is so pathetically displayed

But you don’t approach predatorily

With your hands raised, you gently move closer to her

She watches you closely, her golden eyes watchful even as her body trembles

Slowly, you unwrap the sleeping robe from around you. Is it this late already? Bela hadn’t noticed

The material is thin, but the action shows your intentions nonetheless, and so she allows you to lean into her personal space

A small, quiet gasp passes her lips when you pick her up. Automatically, she sets her hands on your shoulders and wraps the robe tighter around herself

With her vision blurry and the foul taste in her mouth, her bloodied, non functioning legs and aching arms, she doesn’t protest when you keep holding her up and close to you

Your warmth is…comforting

Bela winces a little. She doesn’t want to look up at you, doesn’t want to ruin this perfect moment

After all, when she does look up, what will she see? Hatred? Annoyance? Cockiness?

You pass the fireplace, walk up the stairs

She clings tighter to you, but there are no others in the hallway

All staff members know better than to leave their rooms at nighttime, and even more so in winter, when it is known the residents of castle Dimitrescu are more on edge and easier to irritate

After a little while she notices where you’re taking her- her own room, her safe harbour

She extends an aching arm and closes her fingers around the door knob, helping you open the way inside

She wonders; have you ever been in here? What do you think?

Despite her annoyance, Bela manages to bite down a curse when her cheeks heat up a little

Secretly, perhaps, she wants you to like her room

And like it you do

Bela is every bit the perfectionist you knew she is

But, there is beauty in this

Her shelves are organized neatly. The books placed in them tell you the woman in your arms is fond of just about everything

Information and documentaries of a vast range of topics can be found, from hobbies to animals, to biomes, to sciences

Her bed is made and her nightstand is nearly empty, save for the storybook placed on it

It isn’t opened and sports no mark or so

You assume she hasn’t touched it in a while, but somehow, you correctly guess that it’s meant for the few times her sisters sneak into her room and the story calms their anxious minds

When Bela looks up at you eventually, she gasps quietly at the softness found in your eyes

She stays quiet as you set her down on the bed, doesn’t even wince when you brush aside her hair to have a look at the nasty cut on her head

With the heat of the room, the wounds begin healing slowly

And still, you fuss over her

She hopes you don’t take notice of her dusty pink cheeks and wide eyes when you press your sleeve to her forehead

Your subtle smile tells her differently

Cassandra

She hates you, you’re sure of it

And you hate her, she’s sure

After all, why else would she dump dead, stinking deer in front of your room every single morning?!

Why else would she do this to you and no one else!

Why is she tormenting you? What have you done to her!

After all, why else would you dispose of her beautiful gifts every single morning?

You must hate her!

She feels stupid for gifting you her finest meat every day, but can’t stop, either

Perhaps she can yet woo you, after all

But you dump it off to the kitchens every time! Not even back to her! The kitchens! For common staff!

You must hate her…!

When you pass her in the halls, you do your best to avoid eye contact. Were you looking at her, you would notice her doing the exact same thing

Despite her hatred for you, you are curious about her

She’s beautiful, there’s no question there

With chocolate-coal-brown hair that easily falls down at her shoulders, sometimes curled, at other times straightened, her golden eyes you only sometimes dare gaze upon

She has one lazy eye, and you find it’s the cutest thing in the world. Her features are stunning and you regularly fight yourself to avoid staring at her

At night, at times, you can’t help but wonder what this beauty of a woman would be like curled against you

Her pale, snow-white skin pressed against yours, her face tucked away by your neck, your arms tight around her

Sometimes, you bitterly remind yourself; she would strike. Bite down at your jugular with all her might and drain the life from you

But, perhaps even happily so, you would allow her to

Despite her hatred of you, she has you wrapped around her finger

Despite your hatred of her, you have her wrapped around your finger

A raid at the castle marks the time both your lives are about to change

Raids are, by all means, hardly unusual

While they aren’t everyday happenings, all residents and staff of the castle, even the villagers, know of the foolish men and sometimes women attempting to break into the castle every few weeks or months or so

None are successful, but it seems this never dampens their spirit

But, there is protocol

And so you find yourself hiding in the only room closest to you at the beginning of the raid: the armory

The very armory occupied by Cassandra Dimitrescu

You know protocol, you know to hide in the nearest room, lock it even, and wait it out. Protocol never mentions the case being in which a Dimitrescu sister is near

You hold your breath, but it’s no use. She notices you immediately, and given the current raid at the castle you ought to be happy she doesn’t automatically strike you down

Instead, she holds your gaze for a moment. Your eyes meet a dark gold, more beautiful than anything you have ever seen before

You don’t notice you’re holding your breath until she stretches her arm out, her gloved fingertips pointing towards the back of the room

You understand instantly. A hiding spot, as instructed. Of course

Even as you slide between and behind the large barrels, hide behind the suits of armor standing at the back, you can’t help but keep your eyes lingering on her

Her back is smooth, her hips surprisingly slim

She looks regal, yet lethal in the way her fingers twitch and she grasps the weapon tighter every few seconds

Soon after you’ve slipped into your hiding place and Cassandra started sharpening her weapon- you briefly wonder why it is she stays with you, rather than throw herself into the sure fight happening somewhere in the castle- when you begin hearing shouts ahead

Then, you see them, two men, as they burst into the armory

They’re broad shouldered and sport brown hair and a brown, stubby beard. Thick noses and burst lips adorn their faces. They’re twins, and judged by their clothing, hunters stemming from the village

You hold your breath and shrink against the suits of armor and barrels surrounding you

They sneer at Cassandra, their weapons- two machetes, one each, drawn. They’re wholly focused on her

If they’ve seen you, they pay you no mind at all

Cassandra doesn’t wait for one of them to attack. Instead, you watch as she throws herself into battle

Swarming halfway and masterfully avoiding all incoming attacks from the two intruders, she catches one’s neck with the end of her sickle and reaps chunks of the other man’s clothing and skin from his ribs

You watch as blood forms and drops fast. The man splutters uselessly, stumbling back while the other, though injured, tries to fight back

It becomes clear to you now, why Cassandra is known as the best huntress at castle Dimitrescu

Despite her impressive display, your eyes press shut when the injured man stumbles in your direction

Again, he doesn’t seem to take notice of you, and yet you don’t dare move

Then, a loud bang forces your eyes open and a scream from your lungs

But you are not the only one screaming, and so you are lucky enough to be unnoticed again, for…

Cassandra’s scream was the one outweighing yours, you realise

The woman screams and shakes, her hood torn off to reveal teary eyes and her beautiful, pale skin breaking off slightly

Behind her, you notice the crack in the wall now a large gap. It must have been caused by the explosion you’ve heard

She’s still fighting strong, having finished the already weakened man bleeding out near you

Still, you grit your teeth and watch with wide eyes as the machete of the other connects with her arm. At first, she howls in pain, the noise so desperate and pure you almost cry

Then, the limb falls. You watch as it falls from her and breaks off into what must be hundreds of little flies that curl in on themself as the cold wind touches them

You grit your teeth when the woman stumbles backwards, her back dangerously close to the large gap in the wall. If she was to fall…

The man seems to have the same idea, pushing and swinging his machete around like a madman trying to make her back up into the gap

You decide you can’t bear to stand idle while her fate may be sealed

Slithering from behind the armor and barrels, you yank the other machete from the dead man’s tight grip

In a smooth, albeit difficult swing, the sharp blade meant for monsters connects with the man’s exposed neck, just where Cassandra struck him before

His head tips to the side as he collapses, and you drop the weapon immediately

Cassandra groans and growls madly as you near yourself and push her weak arm wielding the sickle aside

She reminds you a little of an animal with rabies, the way she shakes and growls, and you hope you don’t pay the bitter price for your care

Still, you wrap your arm around her slim hips and pull her towards you, wary of the large piece of broken off wall behind her

She doesn’t fight you, merely keeps on growling and- crying? You can’t be too sure. You didn’t take her for one to cry, but then again, you wince when you nearly step on what used to be her arm

Carefully, you scoop the unmoving flies from the floor and into your pocket

The woman is clearly out of it, her lips parted and sharp, fang-like teeth on display as she snarls and growls over and over again, her screams quiet, but almost banshee like in their shrill tone

You wonder; is she trying to reach her sisters with it? If she is, it’s entirely too quiet and weak of a scream, you decide

You take another gamble and hook your free hand under her legs, promptly lifting the woman into your arms

Again, she snarls and shakes, but makes no move to attack you

That is, if you don’t count her sharp, bloodied nails of her remaining hand digging into your shoulder

And still, you can’t bring yourself to believe this is meant to be an attack

You carry her out the library and the only place you know to be warm; the kitchens near the grand dining room

Cassandra relaxes significantly as you move her to the room, the warm fires and steam warming her sore body

Still, you don’t dare let go of her

When you hold your breath, you realise; she’s almost..purring? That can’t be right

The next thing you realise are the flies, previously unmoving, buzzing in your pocket

You set the woman down on a clear part of the table and retrieve one of them, smiling as it buzzes in your hand

You place a gentle kiss to it, not unaware of the small gasp coming from Cassandra, and release it. Immediately, it returns to the stump where her arm used to be

You repeat the process, kissing flies as they return to her

Cassandra’s thankful for the cold still in her body, for it’s at the very least suppressing her growing blush

You feel her lean against you and cant help but wonder;

Perhaps, she doesn’t hate you

Maybe, you don’t hate her

Daniela

Daniela is almost 100% sure you hate her

You never react to her sly smirks, her cute giggles, the sweet hand resting on your shoulder!

She has tried flirting with you for ages, and nothing!

You’re never rude to her, actually- you’re very kind to her!

You always bring her a flower when your work in the gardens is done

You always braid her hair for her and brush it out after

You make sure her room is clean and her bath is full of bubbles and delicious scents

You always smile when you see her

So why haven’t you kissed her yet!

She doesn’t understand

She’s thrown you so many signs! All she could. But you haven’t acted on a single one

She thinks, you must hate her

And you?

You’re a little…clueless

You like her, so very much

You lie awake at night, your mind occupied by the beautiful, auburn haired woman that regularly visits your dreams and thoughts alike

Sometimes, you dare dream

Could she be yours?

Could you make her happy?

Could she want you?

But is she not with others? So many stare when she passes, you hear the hushed voices either insulting, or praising her

She’s a goddess residing in this castle; what chance have you got?

You try to be close to her, yet never too close

You don’t want to disrespect her, never

You care far too much about her for such a thing

Then, one day, there is an attack

Lycans, they say, a stray pack headed from the village and led by their prey directly to the castle

Of course, the staff is immediately brought and locked away for safety

You are less lucky, having insisted the day prior you’d like to clean out the library

After all, this is where Daniela is known to spend her days…

Now, separated from the other staff members, you have little choice but to stay put

You try your best not to glance at Daniela, who stands with her sickle held tightly. She too heard the alarms, it seems

You grip the fire poker, your eyes still trained on the floor

You wonder; if you looked at her, could you ever advert your eyes again?

It seems, there is little to no time for you to dwell on this thought, for a loud bang and a snarl is all you hear when the door to the library is ripped from its hinges and a furry snout peaks through

Before you have time to react, Daniela grips the lycan already

You watch as she works, no, plays with the wild animal

She spins it and giggles, grips and yanks, breaks and slices

The beast only snarls at her, yet can’t even hope to land even a single claw on her

All goes well, you don’t even think you need to make use of your improvised weapon

Even the snarls and screams from the outside dull. They’re retreating, it seems

Then, however, a gasp is ripped from you when the beast pushes against you. Whether it did it on purpose or was knocked against you, you can’t tell, but you do realise one thing; you’re falling

Hoping to catch yourself, you reach out to grab all within reach

Only, unfortunately, is that a lever

In the next second you feel icy cold wind come down at you and hear the piercing scream of the auburn haired woman next to you

Your hand stretches out, your lips parting as you scream a warning that comes too late

She’s knocked back by the force of the lycan’s gigantic paw swiping at her, thick claws dragging through her dress and soft, pale skin

You feel ill as blood pools at her stomach and the sickle falls from her

She kicks the animal away, yet it looks, and sounds, as though each move only pains her so much more

You realise your own mistake fast and quickly work on shutting the windows again, her scream and your own blood pumping loudly urging you to work faster, faster, faster

When you look to the side, she’s barely sitting up, her bloodied hands and arms desperately shielding herself against the creature

You don’t think, can’t think, won’t take the time to think now

With the fire poker gripped tightly in your hand, you charge

You scream, and it’s met with a pained howl

Thankfully, Daniela must have injured the creature enough for a simple, powerful strike to its heart to finish it off

And still, you feel your uniform slip from you and the nasty, aching pain of the large slashes made at your back

You grit your teeth, ignoring the mark the creature has left on you even as its foulness enters your body

You turn Daniela to find her bloodied and shivering, her flies dropping, her skin seemingly switching between breaking and healing itself

Again, you don’t dare waste time

She watches you through a blurry haze as you wrap your arms around her. She almost tastes your scent

It takes everything not to taste you

She feels her wounds, the pain she has almost forgotten all about. What is pain? This is a nasty reminder

Next she’s lifted to you, her fingertips and face nuzzling your warm skin

You feel her move to you, as close as she could, and all but grant her this

You know now what happened, what you have caused her

And you’re set to fix it. You won’t allow a stupid mistake, an accident, to be it for her

Daniela shivers still as you pick her off the floor and rush through the halls

Yet, all she feels is you. Your warmth. Your heartbeat, loud and close against her ear. She loves every moment of it

She isn’t sure where you bring her at first, until she finds herself set on her bed

When did she get here? She can’t tell. Black dots appear in her vision and her stomach feels slick with blood even as it starts closing up again

You gently cup her cheek, your eyes, so beautiful and worried, checking her over

You notice the little cuts on her face heal and shut nearly instantly, whereas bruises caused by the cold wind stay stubbornly in place

Perhaps, if the cold hurts the woman, the heat could help her, you figure

Daniela whines when you move from her and for a moment you feel your cheeks heat up. Her fingers entangled with yours, her golden eyes wide and hopeful

She doesn’t want you to go. Not now. Even if you hate her

And really?

Neither do you

You only wish to hold her close, to protect the precious creature held so close to you

You wish to cup her face and stroke the soft fingers holding onto yours so sweetly

You want nothing but to nurse her back to health, to know her, really know her

To be here

To make her yours

You watch, the truth laid bare in her eyes. No flirty smiles you don’t understand, no hidden meanings behind words you can’t understand

Her feelings, exposed and shown to you in her bright, golden eyes

You lean down as gentle as you can, and even more so, you press your lips to the flower tattoo adorning her forehead

“I’ll draw you a bath, it will warm you up”, you whisper. Then, you promise: