#those nightclub scenes

[ladycamdens]

neo trai and mark pakin : only friends behind the scenes ep 12

#neomark #bostonnick #neo trai #mark pakin #only friends the series #gmmtv #thai actors #asianlgbtqdramas #thai bl #those nightclub scenes #even with better lighting they were like #hey can i interest you in some noise #at least the colours from both kinda work hehe

[kingkatsuki]

— patrol

This is very self-indulgent I’m sorry in advance💕

Bakugou hates night patrol, and you hate sleeping alone.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.

Warnings: 18+, Bakugou has dirty thoughts about you, sleepy sex, creampies, cockwarming. Not proof-read as always.

Word Count: 2.2k.

Bakugou hates overnight patrols.

Not only because they mess with his body clock, ensuring his usual nightly routine is out the window as he falls into bed in the early hours of the morning. But the worst Musutafu has to offer seem to come out at night.

The most depraved creeps seem to come out as the sun goes down, crime never sleeps and apparently neither does Dynamight. And night shifts manage to turn the number two Pro into a social worker— just last week he had to deal with a lost woman who had just broke up with her boyfriend, and a drunk that was trying to fall asleep in the grimy booth of a hostess club.

But the worst thing about overnight patrols? Is knowing that you’re at home sleeping soundly in your shared bed, probably wearing one of his oversized shirts as it rides up your thighs— fuck.

He shouldn’t have thought about it.

Groaning at the stiffening erection between his thighs as he run a gloved hand down the length of his face. That was definitely the worst part about these shifts, often trying to swap with one of his sidekicks so he wouldn’t have to endure them.

It was too late for him now, his cock pulsing with want as he tried to ignore the sensation. Trying to stop himself from thinking about slipping into bed behind you and resting it between the supple swell of your ass, feeling the heat radiating from between your plush thighs as he buried himself inside you.

Bakugou was half tempted to call you, even though it was almost three in the morning— the excuse of missing your voice enough to justify the means. But he knew how tired you were from work when you arrived home this evening, the fatigue evident on your features as you gave him a soft smile, practically falling into his arms as he relaxed before his night patrol.

He palmed himself through thick gloves, thankful his huge gauntlets were big enough to conceal the movement if anyone were to catch him they’d think he was just adjusting them. Stifling a groan as he imagined your smaller hands wrapping around his length to give him a teasing pump.

A shrill scream sounded along the bustling street as he caught sight of a scuffle forming outside a nightclub in his peripheral as Bakugou groaned low and deep in his throat, furrowing his brows as he tried to ignore the throb between his thighs.

It was going to be a long fucking night.

It’s hours later when Bakugou is finally making his way home to you, his underwear sticky with pre as he spent the rest of his patrol thinking about this moment. Tired limbs dropping his gauntlets at the door before shrugging off his boots, already hearing you chastising him for leaving them in the way as his lips curl into a soft smile.

God, he missed you.

He’s just grateful the shift didn’t run over, as it often does if a fight breaks out or he has to try and get someone who’s just covered his boots in vomit on the correct train home. Meaning that by the time he’s finally finished and on his way back to you, you’ve already left for work.

Bakugou’s sock clad feet padded through your home as he made his way towards your shared bedroom, tugging his vest up and over his head as he discarded it to the floor. The sight of you exactly how he imagined earlier as you lay asleep in one of his shirts, the fabric bunched around your hips as you lay on your stomach. A leg bent at the knee as he saw the pretty lace panties that you wore, cursing beneath his breath.

If he’d known you were wearing those he probably would’ve called in sick in favour of burying himself inside you to the hilt, storing this scene away in the depths of his mind for the next time he’s needy and you’re not around. Moving his hands to unbuckle his utility belt as he held the lax weight of it, dropping it to the floor gently so’s not to wake you.

He cursed the sight of the time on his phone as he lay it on top of his wireless charger. Barely an hour until you were going to be getting up for work again to leave him alone in your shared bed, wondering whether he should disable your alarm so you miss work and spend the day with him instead.

Pulling the neatly made sheets back on his side of the bed as he climbed in beside you, immediately pressing his back against your side as strong arms pulled you into him. The saccharine scent of you invading his senses as he pressed the cold tip of his nose into the curve of your neck.

He’d almost felt guilty about waking you up, almost— if you didn’t sound so adorable at the sensation. Your breath hitching in your throat as he gave you a grin, his semi-hard cock presses against your hip as he nuzzles your skin gently.

“Mmmm, missed you Katsuki.” You coo, voice laced with sleep as you turn in his grip.

Your arms wrap around his middle as his warm palm moves to the back of your thigh, hoisting it up onto his hip so he could slot himself comfortably between them. His desire pressed flush against your clothed heat as a groan rumbled from deep in his chest.

“Yeah, sweetheart.” He rasps, “Missed you too.”

“I can tell.” You murmur, fingertips stroking the scars littered along his muscular back, “You didn’t even shower, smelly.”

“No time,” He shrugs, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “You gotta get up for work soon.”

“Don’t say that,” You whined, “I like to imagine I’ve got at least another four hours.”

Bakugou smooths a large palm along your upper thigh as he cups the curve of your ass, pressing you against his hard bulge with more urgency. Your pouty lips part in a gasp as you keep your tired eyes shut, his thick fingers slip between your thighs to feel along your slit.

“Did ya touch yourself without me?” He groans when he found your panties damp, fingers disappearing beneath the fabric to trace a line through your slick.

“No,” You mumble as heat licks at your cheeks, “I was just thinking about you.”

“Oh yeah?” He hums, “What were you dreamin’ about hah, dirty girl?”

“You.” You reply earnestly, rolling your hips into his touch as a silent plea for him to touch where you need it most. Your neglected clit throbs with want as the tips of his fingers brush against it.

“Is that right, sweetheart?” He groans, a deep timbery rumble to his tone as he moves the same hand to tug down his boxers, “Cause I’ve been thinkin’ about you all damn night.”

“Yeah?” You gasped as you felt the leaking tip of his cock glide through your messy folds, nudging your puffy clit before catching your fluttering hole.

“Why don’t I show you?” Bakugou grunts as he pushes forward, feeling your walls begin to suck him in as he sinks deep into your wet cunt. Stealing the air from your lungs as your nails dig crescent shaped moons into his back, not that Bakugou cared. Those were the few marks he didn’t mind receiving, a constant reminder of how much he looks after you and a trophy to display proudly in the locker rooms at his agency.

“Oh, fuck. Kats—” You trailed off into a moan as he bottoms out, the length of his cock curving towards that sweet spot inside you as he began to give soft, shallow thrusts into your tight heat.

The salacious thoughts he’d had all night were nothing compared to the feeling of you clinging to him so perfectly, as though you were made for him as he set a languid pace. Calloused fingers dipping into the fat of your ass as he moves you along his thick cock, his warm breath fans against your skin as the stench of sweat laced with smoke and ash invaded your senses. The scent was intoxicating as you found yourself disappearing in it, burying your nose into Bakugou’s chest as you inhale deeply.

“Fuck, baby.” He grunts, feeling your walls pulse around his cock in response as he continued the pace.

Creamy rings of your slick circled the base of his cock and matted into his trimmed pubic hair as Bakugou worked you towards your release. Certain he wouldn’t be able to last long, especially after all the thoughts he’d had of you tonight.

“Gonna cum for me, sweetheart?” He rasps, tilting his head back slightly to try and see your face in the early morning glow, “Can feel ya squeezin’ me.”

Bakugou didn’t give you a moment to respond before he was pushing your back onto the mattress as he settles between your thighs, not once pulling out of you as the new position had him even deeper. His blonde hair pushed back with his mask as his forehead presses against yours, fucking into you with long, deep thrusts. Stealing the air from your lungs with each precise forward motion, reveling in the pretty sounds you made that were reserved all for him.

When did he get so lucky?

“I’m— oh, fuck.” You manage to choke out from between shaky breaths as he hit that spot inside you.

“Yeah? Is that right?” Bakugou grins as he presses a sultry kiss to your lips, his tongue disappearing between them as he swallows your moans.

Everything was far too intense, as you found yourself slipping from conciousness. The pleasure swirling around your mind as your thick lashes flutter, feeling the familiar sensation swirling inside you as the cog begun to tighten.

“You’re so pretty like this, you know?” He grunts, “Got the best fuckin’ pussy.”

Bakugou shifts his weight, pressing some of it on top of you comfortably as he moves his hand to where your bodies are connected. Drawing messy figure of eights against your puffy clit as he worked you towards your release, guiding you towards the edge.

“Come on, sweet girl,” He coos, teeth nipping at your cheek as he gave a particularly harsh thrust against that sweet spot inside you, “Give it to me.”

“Katsuki.” Your walls begin to pulse around his cock as you lose yourself in a toe-curling climax. Your heart rattles your ribcage as you cling to his back, certain you’re leaving deep red lines along the surface as you come undone.

“That’s my good girl,” He groans, continuing to give a few more messy thrusts into your warmth, feeling your walls clenching around him to milk him of his own release, “Good, fuckin’, girl.”

Bakugou enunciates each word with a sharp thrust as his balls tighten, burying his face in the curve of your neck as he cums with a grunt. The heavy weight of him drops onto your chest as he spills white, hot ropes of cum deep inside you.

“Feel so good.” He mumbles against your skin, his stubble tickling your neck as he stayed buried inside you. Cherishing the final few throbs of your cunt around him as he felt his eyes begin to get heavy, slowly drifting into slumber, “All mine.”

This. This is exactly what he’d been waiting for all damn night, thinking about the moment that he’d get to come home to you.

Your fingers began to stroke through his hair, your nails scratching at his damp scalp as a guttural groan reverberates from deep in his chest.

“You need to shower, baby.” You mumble tiredly, already feeling sleep begin to consume you as your breathing began to lull.

“Later.” Bakugou rasps, fully intent of falling asleep like this— with his cock still buried snug inside you.

Until your loud alarm begins to blare around the room, causing Bakugou’s grip on you to tighten as he tries to bury his face in your chest. Holding you still as you futilely try to reach for your phone.

“I gotta turn it off, Kats— please.” You blindly feel for the device as you attempt to follow the sound. Bakugou’s heavy weight on top of you made it so you could barely move as he seemed content to fall asleep with the offensive noise. Although it was probably because Bakugou was used to annoying alarms— his current choice was a clip of All Might repeatedly saying ‘I am here’ which alone was arguably worse (a fact he would contest to the death), “Katsuki, please. My alarm is so annoying.”

He grumbles as he turns his head to face it, his cheek pressed against your breast as he pulls it off the wireless charger. Blindly stabbing at the phone screen until the noise stops, before dropping the phone to the floor as though this would somehow stop you from getting ready for work.

“Baby, I need to get up,” Your attempt to wriggle beneath his weight was in vain as he tightens his grip around your waist in retaliation, “I have work in an hour and I need to shower now.”

“Call in sick.” Bakugou replied simply.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou smut #mha x reader #mha smut #bnha x reader #bnha smut #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou smut #katsuki bakugo smut

[hwaslayer]

crimson (cs) | one shot.

—summary: life has always revolved around the club, the money, the clients— that is, until a first-time experience changes everything for san, for you; causing lines to be blurred, boundaries that are crossed. he didn’t think he’d get wrapped around your finger, falling deep into your spell. after all, he did become your number one client.

—pairing: choi san x stripper!reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, nightclub au | smut, angst

—word count: 21.8k

—content/warnings: cussing/mature language, heavy on the night club/strip club setting, lap dances, oc doesn’t remove her clothing by choice but is a little more hands on with her clients at the club, alcohol consumption/intoxication, san’s got some baggage with his ex, mentions of a toxic past relationship, mentions of severed relationships with loved ones, protected/unprotected sex, praising, making out, one shower together hehe, missionary, doggy style wooof, cowgirl, sprinkle of spit play, clit play, breast play, mentions of marking, ass slapping, mentions of men getting touchy at the club, fighting (some pushing and a few punches), arguments, flashback scenes, not all ateez members are present - only mingi, san, wooyoung, hongjoong and jongho

—on rotation: agora hills - doja cat | anywhere - 112 | all night long - thuy & lil kev | IT’s you - wooyoung, san & yeosang

He became your number one client. 

Quick.

You remember the first time he stepped into the club with his friends, eyes roaming the floor until they landed on yours. You hadn’t expected the group to walk in when they did— the club being pretty dead lately, with the usual, familiar men walking in to let off some steam, to get their fix. You could tell it was the first time they’d ever walked into a strip club with the way they paused near the entrance, not really knowing where to go or how to get settled from there. One of his friends took the lead and walked towards the main stage, his hesitancy obvious with how stiff and awkward he was as he sat on one of the velvet chairs closest to the stage. You hadn’t really paid much mind to them at first, especially him. You had been busy on the other end of the stage, but his eyes had been glued on you the entire time.

That solely piqued your interest. 

He sunk into the chair comfortably, manspreading as his hands rested on his legs. He stared at you with his cat-like eyes, almost pleading for you to come closer and entertain him while his friends were busy tossing bills at your coworker on the right side of the stage. 

He didn’t budge.

You strutted over, initially planning to tease him a bit; play around, work with his ways to give him something to remember. Little did you know that taking the first leap, giving him that attention, was going to change everything between you and this stranger.

Everything.

▹ FLASHBACK

You step in front of the pole, sliding down until you get to a crouch– making sure your legs are spread enough for him to see the itty bitty fabric from your bodysuit barely covering your parts. You can see him subtly bite onto his bottom lip as he leans forward, elbows resting on his knees. You get a little closer, getting onto your knees to crawl towards him; ass posted up in the air while you keep your eyes glued onto him. You’re close enough to the point where he can slip a few dollars into the v-neck of your bodysuit.

And he does, adorning that pretty smirk of his; pearly whites peeking through those pink, plump lips.

“Atta boy!” You hear one of his friends yell. “San’s finally enjoying himself!”

“Dude’s got heart eyes. Look at him. Mesmerized as shit.” Another of his friends laughs before continuing to shower the right side of the stage with bills.

San was his name.

San.

“Gorgeous.” You hear him mutter as you continue to work the stage, eyes glued onto him with every move— every twirl, every dip, every roll, you make. His eyes are taking note of every detail, every tattoo that lines your arm, down to your hip and thigh. Because he wants to study you, all of you.

“It’s his birthday, give him something special!” You glide down the pole before stepping off the stage to greet the men sitting around. It was a normal routine for you, a way to initiate flirty conversations and take men back to a VIP booth for lap dances— lap dances that could easily earn you rent in one night. 

A few of your regulars are sitting around, waiting for some kind of touch, attention. Which, you easily give through running your hand down their chests, whispering sweet nothings as they tuck a few more dollars under your bodysuit. 

Throughout all of this, San is still focused on you.

So, you make your way back to him; his friends are still loudly proclaiming he’s the birthday boy that needs a little gift tonight. And lucky for him, you’re feeling rather generous— especially with the way San buckles around you, pleading, begging, for more of your attention since he walked through the door.

“Is it really your birthday?” You crouch in front of him, hands traveling up his thighs while you lick your lips and bite onto your bottom lip.

“Yeah, it is.” He swallows the lump in his throat when your hands brush against his belt.

“Please give him a private dance.” The same friend from earlier says. He has short black hair with a mole underneath his eye, black button-up exposing his honey skin underneath. He slips you a few hundred bills, a smirk plastered on his face when you meet his gaze. You gladly take the money and stuff it into your bodysuit, grabbing San’s hand as you lead him to the VIP area.

“You didn’t have to.”

“You come to a strip club on your birthday and try to deny a lap dance? That your friend paid for? Odd.” You tease as you push him against another velvet couch. The VIP booths are off to the side of the club, with red mood lights and cringy, dark red velvet curtains draping the front to provide privacy. The booths are small, intimate; just enough space for you to work the pole and be all up on San.

“I mean, I just—” He chokes on his words as he plops onto the couch. “You’re a busy woman, it seems.”

“I am.” You straddle his lap. “But, I can make time for birthday boys, too.”

“That’s nice to know.” His eyes carefully watch your every move. Your hands travel down his neck, down to his tie— tugging on it as you start to bodyroll against the music, against him, making sure San feels you. “Fuck.” He mutters under his breath. You watch as he reaches, but prevents himself from touching your thighs; afraid he’d be crossing a line even though, technically speaking, those lines have been blurred since he walked into the club.

“It’s okay, San.” You reassure him with a whisper, lips almost grazing his ear. His eyes meet yours just as you pull back and bounce on him a bit, hands caressing up and down his chest. You continue to work him slowly, taking your sweet time to make San feel appreciated, to make San feel like he’s had the best birthday in years.

“You know my name?” He says, hands comfortably coming up your body, giving your breasts a squeeze. His hand runs up your neck, to your jaw— gently forcing you to keep eye contact with him as you continue to dance on him. He’s entranced by you that he doesn’t really know what else to say, or how to react. But god, do you feel amazing on him. That body, too?

Heavenly.

“Your friends have been yelling it all night.” You stand and straddle him in the opposite direction, legs wrapped around his torso as you lean forward and bounce on his dick a little more. San can’t help but run his hands down your ass, giving it a good squeeze before you come back up and pry yourself off of him to head to the pole in front of him.

“Fair enough. What’s your name then, beautiful?” You look at him, ignoring the question at first. But, San feels a little different than your usual customers, feels a bit more personal even though you don’t know anything about him nor does he know anything about you. It’s the way that he looks at you, focused on your face, your every move. It’s the way that it’s a room full of dancers and he’s stuck on you. Most men are in the club to fill a void; seeking for quick satisfaction, something that’ll eventually blow over until the next visit. But, it’s nothing more than that. You are nothing more than a dancer, nothing more than a face on stage— someone who collects their bills and runs.

But to San, you feel different.

Before you look into him too deeply, you quickly snap out of it and begin to twirl around the pole, doing your usual pole routine when you’re in the VIP booth. You fall into a split, hand coming down from the pole, down to your body.

San follows.

“My name?” You repeat, and San nods.

“Is that not a normal question here?”

“No one ever gives out their real names here.” You chuckle.

“Then, what’s your stage name?” Time passes when you’re dancing. Usually, you give them 30 mins tops, 45 mins if they keep sending big bills your way. But, you never try to spend more than that with the same person. Not in this community. With the hundreds San’s friend handed you, you would’ve stopped at 15 minutes if this were anyone else.

You’re closing in 20– probably will be 30 when you blink— but you don’t really wanna stop giving San this attention. He’s attractive, fitting his button-up and slacks in all the right places. He has black short hair, a few strands draping over his forehead, a pretty Rolex sitting on his wrist. You think he could handle you if you gave him the chance, and the thought is enough to make your brain short-circuit.

“Crimson.” He smirks, running his finger across his bottom lip while he continues to watch you bounce your ass on the stage. He thinks you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on— the bodysuit doing your body wonders as it makes his mind wander to the unknown.

To what you would look like naked, to have you underneath him, to have you calling his name.

He’s been glued to you from the start and he’s not sure what kind of spell you have him under, but he wants more.

“Crimson.” He repeats, the stage name dripping off his tongue like water. “Are you here every night?”

“Maybe, maybe not.” You twirl with a smirk on your face.

“Come on, don’t do that.” He leans back, head resting against the couch as his hands rest on his thighs.

“Why would it matter?”

“I wouldn’t wanna come back if you weren’t here.” You giggle, stepping away from the pole and slotting yourself back in between his legs at a crouch.

“There’s plenty of other amazing dancers, you know? I don’t make the club.”

“You’re right, you don’t. But, it’s not them I’m asking about.” Your hands travel back up his legs, your face inches away from his dick. You swear you hear him hiss a bit the minute your face glides over, planting small, chaste kisses against his clothed stomach right above the belt. 

“I’m here 4 days a week.”

“What days?” You stand, bending to whisper in his ear. His hand comes up to graze your thigh and hip, shivers shooting down his spine when you respond with:

“I guess you’ll have to find out.” Because now, San takes it as a challenge and he’s determined to figure out which nights you’re here. Initially, he agreed to this whole thing thinking it’d be a one-and-done— a birthday done differently after all these past years only to become an after-thought as time goes on. But now, he wants more of you, all of you; wants to keep seeing you, feeling you, touching you, seeing you dance for him and him only.

He’s not sure what kind of spell you have him under, but he wants more.

You look at him once more, tipping his chin with your finger before dipping forward. You only give him enough so that the tips of your noses brush against each other, enough to tease but not please the birthday boy on his special night. 

“See you soon, Sannie. Happy birthday.” You whisper before turning on your heels and leaving him in the VIP booth to return to the stage. San has to gather himself for a minute, loosening the buttons on his shirt and his tie and adjusting his pants before heading back out to his friends.

“So?! How was it?” Wooyoung leans over on the chair right after he greets another dancer making her rounds across the floor.

“Good.” 

“He’s red in the face.” Mingi laughs. “It was more than good.”

“Say thank you for the best birthday ever, Wooyoung.” Wooyoung teases and San can’t help but shake his head. He’s still lost in thought, eyes subtly scanning the room to find you but you are busy taking new customers into the VIP booth. The room feels hot, and he wishes he could be in the VIP booth with you, alone. He truly wished it never ended. “Let’s head to the bar and get more drinks.” San shrugs and follows along, the 4 of them heading into the bar where the music is louder, and other dancers are flooding the area.

As the night goes on, you’ve finished tending to your regulars— already knowing what they want, what they need, but making your boundaries clear every time they try to step over the line and take advantage of your generosity tonight. By the end of your shift, it’s 3am and you’re exhausted. Your feet are hurting from the platform heels you’re sporting. It’s crazy how after all this time as a dancer, you still aren’t used to the heels you have to throw on, excited to dip your feet in a hot, lavender foot bath when you get home. You change back into your casual sweats and matching hoodie, throwing the hood over your head as you bid farewell to your coworkers and step out the back door into the cold, crisp night. When you cross the alley to get onto the main road, there are a few gentlemen standing around, some smoking their cigarettes while chatting with their friends.

Usually, no one causes you trouble. From time to time, your usuals are drunk and babbling nonsense about how they wish they could take you home, show you ‘a new world.’ But, no one ever gets handsy, no one ever forces themselves on you. For the most part, they know what this is, they know at the end of the night this is nothing but a temporary fantasy— one you fulfill for a specific time frame before the new day dawns and things go back to normal, to routine.

Tonight, it’s a bit different.

“Yo, isn’t that the dancer?” You hear a familiar voice as you cross through the alley, passing by a big group on your way. They seem to be tending to a friend who has gotten sloppily drunk, yacking their brains out off to the side of the club. 

“Aye cutie, going home already? Wanna give the birthday boy more love?” Another friend questions after he pulls the cigarette from in between his lips and exhales. “Bro, Mingi. Hurry up and get your sloppy ass together. It’s fucking cold.” He scolds their incredibly drunk friend afterwards.

“Hongjoong.” You hear San call for his friend. You do nothing but give them a simple look as you continue to walk on, trying not to feed them any attention. As attractive as San is, you are too tired to deal with this right now. After all, you are just a dancer. What more could you be to him? You temporarily feed into their fantasies, nothing more, nothing less.

“What, it’s a simple question. You never know, she might be down.” 

“Sorry.” San apologizes on his behalf, his eyes red and glazed from the alcohol.

“Not down?” Hongjoong asks again, his eyes now glued onto you.

“No, I’m not.” You respond, walking backwards to maintain eye contact. 

“Aw, why not?” Honey-skin with the black-button up chimes in. “He’s single. He could use it.”

“The fuck? Not helping.” San looks at his friend and taps him on the chest, making him bust out into a loud laugh.

“I don’t do that. Nothing beyond the club. Sorry to disappoint.” You smile at them before walking off onto the main street.

“Can he at least escort you home?!” They call out as you cross the street, making you roll your eyes as you continue the journey home all by yourself.

▹ END

Since then, there’s been a new addition to your regulars. One particularly more intriguing than the rest. You didn’t really believe Mia when she told you the familiar face came on your days off, asking the bartender if you were dancing tonight. He came, and he came, until he figured out the exact 4 days you worked. To say you were surprised would be an understatement because why on earth was San actually looking for you?

Why was he actually trying to figure out your schedule?

Did he really want to see you, or were you just his favorite dancer? Was he too shy to get close to the other dancers [at a strip club]?

It’s been a couple of weeks and San still comes. But, you’ve pushed the questions to the back of your mind; taking his visits with a grain of salt. You weren’t sure you’d pry anyway, afraid you’d be reading into this too much. After all, you are just a dancer.

What more could you be to him? You temporarily feed into their fantasies, nothing more, nothing less.

“Babe, your man is here.” Mia peeks into the dressing room, her head popping in from the doorway.

“He is not my man.” You give her a look, but she giggles and smirks before turning.

“Hurry that ass up, he seems anxious.” She calls out just before she heads back out to the main floor. You roll your eyes, dabbing more lip gloss on your lips before heading back out onto the floor. As promised, San sits in that same chair you met him during his first night at the club while Wooyoung [you’ve come to learn] lingers near the stage. Wooyoung is already entertaining another dancer, taking every opportunity to slip a few bills underneath her bikini top. 

To tease San a bit, you come up from behind up, trailing your hands down his chest while your lips ghost his ear. He turns slightly just for some sort of confirmation, though he’s already studied your body— down to the way you move, the way you tease.

“San.��� You call his name. “Should I still be surprised that you’re here again?”

“You tell me.” He smirks, that pretty smile of his slowly becoming a weakness for you. “I’m just here to get my fix.” He winks, even though he really just wants to see you and be alone with you again.

“Get in line.” You tease. San immediately holds up a few bills, eyes darting from yours to your cleavage in that incredibly tiny silver bikini top you have on.

“Should I?” He subtly bites onto his bottom lip as he slips the money right into your top. You playfully roll your eyes and lead the way to a VIP booth, San undoing his cuffs and rolling up his sleeves just about halfway up his forearm. Truthfully, yes, it’s been a long day [week, even] and he’s needing a release; wanting to let out some steam. But, he’s also excited he could do that with you and only you. He watches your hips sway as you walk and wait for him to enter the booth, shutting the curtain close so that it’s just you and him underneath the red mood lighting. 

You step onto the stage; twirling around the pole before you bounce your ass on the stage. San watches intently, eyes glued to your bottom half when you spread your legs and show him how much those bottoms aren’t doing shit for you.

He is so, so curious. 

He takes note of every detail of your body, studying it over and over again like a book. And god, he wants to do everything and nothing all at once— stuck between wanting to get his hands all over you and doing nothing just to admire your pretty face, your figure. San felt like maybe this was just a phase, a new, exciting experience in his life that’ll soon fizzle out.

But when San looks at you, he can’t agree. He’s not sure what kind of spell you have him under, but he wants more.

He leans back onto the couch, his head resting against the edge as he manspreads. He licks his lips while watching your hands travel down your chest, your stomach. 

“Why are you so far?” He questions, motioning for you to come closer. Your bikini top and bottom are still driving him crazy, and he’s certain he’ll lose his shit once you sit on his lap.

“So eager tonight?”

“Just been a rough week.”

“I’m sure, as with everyone else here.”

“Am I just everyone else?” You let out a small chuckle, straddling his lap. His hands immediately come up to cup your ass, giving it a good squeeze before you start to work your hips on him. He’s gotten pretty comfortable by now, though San still shoots you a look as if it’s his way of asking for permission first. You appreciate the little things, and San most definitely isn’t just like everyone else. But, as with any defense mechanism, you resort to a guarded response:

“I mean, you’re here at ungodly hours tipping girls for a dance.” He lets out a small laugh, strong hands now at your hips. 

“Mm, I really only come for my favorite though. You might know her?” He jokes, his face only inches away from yours. 

“Do I?” You follow along with his teasing. The strap to your bikini top falls off your shoulder and San’s eyes follow; the small room feeling 10 degrees hotter, pants a little tighter. 

“Mhm.” He hums, his finger tracing a line up your leg. “She has tattoos just like this lining her thigh—“ He moves it up to your hip. “Up her hip.” His thumb comes up to your lip. “Pretty lips just like that. Long lashes. Prettiest smile I’ve seen.” His face moves towards your neck, lips grazing the surface below your ear. “Mole on the neck.” You subtly bite onto your bottom lip. San’s hand brushes up against your breast before he touches the small mole on your neck.

“Sounds like a lot of the girls around here.”

“Mm, but the one I’m thinking of goes by the stage name Crimson.” You continue to tease, bounce on him a little more, shake ass a little more. Your eyes linger on him a bit longer than you’d like, and you find yourself retracting. To him, the room is probably degrees hotter— for you, it’s starting to feel suffocating.

“She’s nothing but a ‘lil dancer, San.” You whisper in his ear, lips brushing against the surface before you hop off his lap. San is a little confused at the sudden change, but you feel like you’re reading too much into this, too much into San.

This isn’t supposed to be anything but business.

Why would San ever want you in that way? Most of this is to fulfill a want, a need, a fantasy. San is most likely saying this to get what he wants, to take charge and lead you on.

Though, at the end of the night, you are nothing but a face, a dancer. He wouldn’t think about you past the club. That is where this ends, regardless. 

You give San one last look before you brush past the curtain, returning to the stage closest to the bar. Wooyoung is getting dragged to a VIP booth, his other friends now standing and gathering around the stage to get up close and personal to the girls currently on there. You make a beeline to the stage near the bar, the area being a little more dead than the main stage room.

Right before you hop on stage, Mia is delivering drinks to a few men off to the side of the room. She shoots you a look, following after handing over the drinks.

“Why are you rushing? Did something happen?” You wait for the bartender to hand you some water.

“Nothing happened.” You sip a bit to shake off your thoughts, your feelings.

“You sure? I’ll beat someone’s ass if you need me to and call security to toss them out.”

“I promise.” You look at her and squeeze her arm. “I’m just gonna stick here for the rest of the night, though. Need a change of pace.” She nods.

“Alright, if you say so. I’m still onto you.” She says, leaving you to help the bartender with delivering the drinks.

For the rest of the night, you continue to dodge San and his friends until the end of your shift. You don’t usually leave through the front doors of the club, but tonight, you sneak out and rush across the street with your hood up. You can hear San and his friends as they leave, causing you to pick up the pace of your steps— hoping you’ll avoid being caught.

But, San sees you, anyway. His eyes can’t help but watch for a few seconds more before he’s returning his attention back to the boys. He felt the shift earlier, and he picked up on the way you continued to hop from stage to stage— seemingly avoiding their group. He’s not sure what happened, or why he feels like you’ve suddenly got your guard back up around him. It’s something about you, and San knows it shouldn’t be that serious. This became a fun little past-time for him and his boys. But every time he’s left the club recently, he leaves a little bit more attached to you.

Because yes, you know how to work your magic in there. It’s no fucking joke. He gets a taste of you on stage, in the booth, and it blows his mind. But other than that, it’s the way you return the same look, the same touch. There’s something else, more to you than the surface, and he’s curious to find out.

It shouldn’t be that serious, but for San, it is.

“What’s wrong?” Jongho pushes a small coffee your way, cocking a brow when he sees how checked out you seem today.

“W-what?” You look at him, finally pulled out of your daze. “Oh, nothing.” You grab the cup and take a sip, giving him a tiny toothless smile of appreciation. “Thank you.”

“Sure.” He sets his coffee onto the side of the cart, helping you unbox a few albums that arrived today and needed to be restocked on the shelves. “So, really. What is it?” He asks, eyes still focused on restocking. Jongho has been one of your closest friends— probably the only closest, genuine friend that stuck by your side since you were younger. He still keeps in touch with the group you grew up with since middle school, but lots of those relationships have been severed after you started dancing at the club. Jongho was the only one who didn’t see you any differently, nor did he take the job as anything bad. He always knew you were passionate about dance and he understood you when times got tough; strapped on cash and needing a quick fix that would help you get by. It was a bit of a risky, somewhat dangerous step, but who was Jongho to control your life? You already didn’t have a great relationship with your parents, so the least Jongho can do is support you and be your pillar if no one else would be. He knew you could make your own decisions, and only you knew yourself best. He knew you’d take care of yourself, whatever that looked like.

Jongho was the manager at this small, quaint music shop in the city. Though, the city you lived in wasn’t entirely huge compared to others. It still had its old-school touch of wooden, soft decor with a rage of vintage to mainstream albums and art throughout the shop. The owner was a middle-aged man who used to play in a band back in the days, now retired and trying to stay in touch with his roots through the shop. Jongho had worked here for years before stepping into the full-time manager position and helped bring you on, especially during the time you needed it the most.

You really appreciate Jongho, and you’re glad you at least have him.

“Sometimes, I feel like I should’ve just finished school.”

“You did. High school?”

“College.” Jongho shrugs when you respond and give him a look.

“If it wasn’t what you wanted to do at the time, then why force yourself? Besides, it’s never too late. You can always go back to school.” He turns to you and places a hand on his hip. “Why are you thinking about this all of a sudden?”

“I don’t really know. What if they were right? What if I’m not good for anything besides being a stripper? What if I’m just that?”

“You and I both know that’s not true.” Jongho tosses the empty box aside, triggering you to get it together and start doing your job. “You’re smart, talented, and passionate about a lot of things. Especially dance. Just because you work at a club doesn’t make you less of a person, Y/N.” He says in that usual serious tone of his.

“Thanks.” You poke your bottom lip out as you arrange the albums and start tagging the price stickers onto them.

“Who is it?” You sigh, already knowing Jongho won’t leave it alone until you finally tell him the truth about why you’re suddenly questioning your life.

“It’s the same guy I told you about. The birthday boy.” Jongho does a tiny nod of acknowledgement.

“He’s still showing up with his friends?”

“Yeah, surprisingly. And he always looks for me. Asks for me. Doesn’t pay attention to any other dancer there.”

“Maybe he has a crush on you.”

“We know nothing about each other. He knows my stage name, he knows my club persona.” You sigh. “That’s why it made me question life. It’s dumb, I know.” You purse your lips together as you shove the albums into the shelf and move onto the next task.

“Well, there has to be a reason why he keeps coming back for you and only you. Maybe he wants to know you, outside of the club and that whole persona thing.” Jongho shrugs. “Never say never.”

“He’s a businessman of some sort. Suited up all the time. He must work for a really good company. Probably has a family that is well off.” You shake your head and make your way back to the front. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“I wouldn’t say that. Why don’t you ask—“ At this point, just as you settle at the register with Jongho, a few people enter the shop. You whip your head towards the entrance when you hear some laughter, only for your eyes to widen.

“Oh, shit. Jongho!” You whisper harshly. “What the hell is he doing here?!” He looks over your shoulder as San and Wooyoung walk in, Wooyoung instantly making a turn to head to the vinyl collection.

“Is that birthday boy?” You nod with a worried expression on your face. San is about to walk past the register when he furrows his brows at the small commotion happening behind the counter, turning his attention towards you and Jongho.

“Too late dude, he’s right there.” Jongho blocks you from leaving. “It’d be too obvious now, just take it like a fucking champ and say hi.” He says through gritted teeth. “I gotta walk around anyways.” He turns to San enthusiastically. “Hey, welcome in.”

“Hey.” San looks at the both of you, his brows still furrowed when his eyes land on your face.

“Hi. Let me know if you need help.” You try to scurry off, but San stops you.

“Woah, wait. You’re—“

“Don’t say it outloud here.” San’s lips form into the shape of an ‘o’ before nodding. He can’t help but glaze over your features and how naturally beautiful you are– the sun hitting your skin perfectly. You never packed on the makeup heavily on stage, but you did still have a face on every time you worked at the club. He subtly nibbles onto his bottom lip, hands dug deep into his jacket pockets.

“You work here, too?”

“Makes up for the days I’m not there.” He nods.

“Well, hi.” He gives you a small smile.

“Hi.” You tilt your head. “I’ve never seen you around this part of the city. Ever.” He snorts a bit.

“We’re never usually on the outskirts, but Wooyoung was adamant about getting vinyls for his new record player. You guys are the only shop that has a good collection.” You nod, San stepping aside when a customer unloads their basket onto the counter. He lingers around, watching how delicate you are handling the merchandise and how big your smile is when helping the customer. As expected, you’re very different from the club— you seem more relaxed, laid back. Sweet. Happy.

“So, are you just gonna stand there and wait for Wooyoung?” You chuckle after wrapping up the transaction and handing the customer their bag, bidding farewell as they head out of the store.

“I don’t really need anything so, yeah. I guess so. I’d rather talk to you, anyway.” You give him a look and take the sticker gun in your hand, walking away from the counter when a coworker comes back from break to relieve you.

“I’m working.” You head back to the floor, San following behind.

“I know.” He watches as you begin to sort through another shipment. “Are you gonna tell me your name now that we’re outside of the club?”

“Why do you wanna learn my name so badly? And why are you always at the club? Don’t you have like.. other things to do? A girlfriend or someone to entertain?” You shiver at the thought. God, you hope not. Especially with how he’s been lately. But, men are trash and you wouldn’t expect any less.

“Because I do? You’re not just someone from the club.” You look at him briefly before looking back down at the stack of albums. “And no, I don’t have someone to entertain. I wouldn’t be there often if I did.” Touché. “We just had fun on my birthday. It’s a good way to let out some steam after busy days.”

“Hm.” You hum.

“I like seeing you there.” He casually says, making you pause in your actions before continuing. 

“I don’t make the club, San.”

“You make it for me. Or else I wouldn’t be going.” You look at him again with a hand on your hip. He has a small smirk plastered on his face and you can’t help but notice how attractive he looks under the daylight— smooth honey skin, hoodie over his head, soft black hair teasing his forehead. Your eyes linger on him for a lot longer than you’d like, having to force yourself to snap out of it when you realize [again] that San wouldn’t want you in that way.

“What are you trying to do here?” You cock a brow up just before you start working on the CDs in front of you, marking them down and adding new price tags to the back.

“Get to know you.”

“Why me?”

“Why not you?” San continues to smirk, leaning against the shelves. 

“Y/N, take your break in a few minutes.” Jongho says coming down the aisle before giving San a small, pursed smile.

“Yeah, Y/N.” San chimes in and teases. “Pretty name for a pretty girl.”

“You ready? I found what I needed—“ Wooyoung comes from around the corner, pausing mid-sentence when he realizes San isn’t alone. “Oh, hey! I wasn’t expecting to see you here.” Your eyes dart to Wooyoung and he smiles. “Wow, you’re really pretty in the daylight—“ San taps him on the chest. “What, I’m just saying! It’s hard to really see faces in the club lighting. Besides, I don’t get the privilege of having private—“

“Okay, that’s—yeah.” San cuts him off and scratches at his head. “Really sorry.”

“You ready?” You let out a sigh before asking Wooyoung. “I can ring you up at the other register before I head to break.”

“Yeah.” You lead them to the smaller checkout stand at the end of the aisle, scanning Wooyoung’s items and bagging up his things as he pays. Throughout the entire time, San is still watching you; subtly biting onto his bottom lip when he can’t help but think of the nights at the club, being intimately close with you— seeing you in a different light than this.

Which, he’s trying not to. He just can’t help it. You are beauty in its purest form, and he wishes he could know more about you.

And you don’t fail to notice. 

The look San has in his eyes is different from what you’re used to seeing at nighttime. It makes you nervous from the butterflies you feel, the curiosity running through your veins— even if the other thoughts in your mind say otherwise.

“Guess we’ll see you around?” Wooyoung smirks before walking out of the shop first.

“See you soon, Y/N.” Just before San walks out, you shut off the part of your brain that keeps spewing negativity and all these other ‘what if’s.’

“W-wait.” 

“Hm?” He hums, his hands in his pocket as he cocks a brow up. You begin to scribble your number down on a random receipt that was left behind, pushing it over to San shortly afterwards.

“Don’t ask for free dances or anything though, I’ll block you.” San chuckles before grabbing the receipt and tucking it into his pocket.

“Don’t want that, now do we?” He winks before stepping out of the shop.

“Cute.” You glare at Jongho and hit him on the arm. “Ouch, what!”

“Why would you say my name around him!”

“You act like he wasn’t gonna find out one way or another, the dude definitely has googly eyes over you.” He crosses his arms and smirks. “Besides, you slipped him your number.”

“Ugh.” You continue to glare at him. “I’m going on my break.”

“So you can text San, hm?” You mouth out a quick ‘fuck off’ before turning on your heel and heading to the break room. The entire scenario hadn't been processed in your mind until now, unsure if giving your number to San was a good idea or not.

You didn’t wanna get attached to him. Not him, of all people. Though, you know you will, and that’s why it feels like a bad decision.

A decision you think you might regret.

The thought blows over when you get home that night, exhausted from your work day and the commute. You hop in the shower and whip up a teriyaki chicken rice bowl with some veggies. You plop onto your couch and turn on the TV, picking up on where you left off on the last episode of the series you were watching. Barely 7 minutes in, a call comes through on your phone, your eyes widening at the name flashing across the screen. Just as you briefly debate on answering the call, your hands are already moving towards the phone; swiping right to pick it up.

“Hello?”

“Hey.” San says on the other line so nonchalantly, as if you two had been talking for years.

“Hi?” You let out a small, nervous chuckle. “What made you call?”

“I just wanted to talk to you and ask how the rest of your day at work went.”

“Oh.” You shrug as if he can see you. “It was alright. Nothing too bad.”

“Yeah? Nobody get on your nerve throughout the day?”

“I also work at a strip club. I think the music shop is very mild when it comes to that.” You joke, making San laugh a bit on the other line. “How was the rest of yours?”

“Good. Wooyoung and I just grabbed something to eat before he brought me home.”

“Where’s home for you?”

“Probably 20 minutes away from the city.” He responds just as you hear dishes clinking in the background. “Did you eat already?”

“I am right now.”

“Oh shit, sorry. Do you want me to call you later? Or, I guess, I can just text you?”

“It’s okay, San. I don’t mind.”

“Mmkay. Just checking.”

“I know you just saw Wooyoung, but you guys aren’t hanging out with the rest of your friends tonight?”

“Believe it or not, we like taking breaks from each other.” He laughs a bit. “No but, Mingi, the really tall one, has a date or whatever tonight.”

“Or whatever?” You laugh.

“He’s weird about these things. Says it’s a date when we all know he’s not really ready to date seriously.”

“Mm, one of those guys. You like that, too?”

“Definitely not. If I really like someone and we hit it off, I’ll pursue them to no end.”

“Mhm.” You find yourself teasing him more. “Cute. Have you guys known each other for long?”

“Me and Wooyoung grew up together. Our parents are close, too. We met Hongjoong and Mingi in college.”

“That’s sweet.”

“What about you, Y/N? What about your friends? Tell me more about yourself. I meant it when I said I wanna get to know you.” You feel the heat rise to your cheeks, even though every bone in your body is telling you to continue keeping your guard up.

“Ah, did you? Cause it definitely sounded like a line.” You snort.

“It’s not just a line. Seriously.”

“I honestly don’t know what to tell you. I don’t have an interesting story.” You poke at your food before taking a small bite.

“Don’t say that. I find you interesting no matter what.”

“You say that now.”

“I’ll say it later, too.” He reassures you.

“I– I don’t know. I’m not close to my family after the decisions I’ve made, and friends left my side especially after I started working at the club more. Jongho is really the only person who has stayed by my side since we were younger.”

“I’m sorry. Why aren’t they your friends anymore?”

“I guess they just think I’m dumb for not going to school and for settling at the club.”

“I mean, that’s not really fair? It’s not dumb if it wasn’t what you wanted.”

“Yeah, well. They didn’t think I’d take dance that seriously.”

“You’re really good at it.” You chuckle hearing his response. “Why wouldn’t you?”

“Wish I could tell you. My family is in the same boat. My older sister graduated from college and started her own lab after finishing her postdoctoral appointment. Imagine how much my family looks down on me. I struggled for awhile and Jongho helped me out a lot.”

“I’m glad you at least have him.”

“I am too.”

“What else do you like to do?”

“San, are you sure you don’t have anything else to do tonight?” He laughs. “What about your family?”

“Swear. My family is fine, they’re doing their own thing.”

“Do they live around here too?”

“Nope, maybe an hour or so away? I have an older sister too, but she’s overseas right now. She’s in the fashion industry.” He lets out a small sigh. “I genuinely wanted to call you and talk to you after seeing you today.”

“You’re such a mystery.”

“Why’s that?”

“I don’t know. You just are. I see you at the club a couple of times, then I see you at the shop. Now we’re on the phone. It’s just funny how things play out.”

“Nothing mysterious about it. Maybe it’s just meant to play out that way.”

“What’s meant to play out that way?”

“Us.” You pause. Mainly because you couldn’t believe this is how things were meant to play out with San. Why was he everywhere and nowhere at the same time? Why was he calling you and trying to get to know you? And what if it was meant to play out this way? It could either mean two things— one, San was meant to play some sort of good in your life.

Or two, San was meant to break your heart and teach you yet another lesson in this crazy universe.

You weren’t sure what to think of it all, if you were even ready to figure out what all of this meant.

But, at this moment in time, all the regrets and thoughts continue to brush over your head because you like hearing San’s voice and you like talking to him outside of the club. You are intrigued, and you can’t say you aren’t keen on finding out what this is.

So, you continue to talk to San. 30 minutes turns into an hour; slipping into bed with San still on the other line. It’s easy to talk to him and you like that he initiates most of the conversation. He doesn’t judge you and he doesn’t pressure you into talking about things you don’t feel comfortable diving into right now. He doesn’t put the focus on himself much and he listens. You find yourself giggling, tossing and turning under the sheets— thoughts exploring uncharted territories.

San almost feels like a bad decision; a decision you think you might regret.

For tonight, you’ll take it. You’ll take this for what it is, and you’ll take San for who he is. You’ll find out what his role is in your life and why this is playing out the way it is for the both of you.

Maybe he is good.

Maybe he is a heartbreaker.

Or maybe San is meant to be San, a passing moment in your life that eventually just ends.

Whatever it is, you’ll figure it out. Even if it's something you might regret later on.

“Can I tell you something Y/N?” He asks just as you feel the exhaustion hitting your body.

“Mhm?”

“You’re really beautiful. I like seeing you, especially on stage. You know how to drive people crazy.”

San continues to text and call you, just to ask if you’re doing okay— to let you know he always looks forward to seeing you. Small smiley faces, goodmorning’s and goodnight’s, dropping by with food or just to say hi at the music shop; you can’t help but feel the butterflies in your tummy grow when it comes to San. 

You’re not sure if you despise it or not.

Jongho says you should just see where it goes and tries to reassure you by telling you what’s meant to be, will be, and that you shouldn’t read too much into things right now. 

Keep doing you as you have, and continue to move forward.

But, it’s a lot easier said than done. Especially when you don’t understand what San wants out of you. He’s respected your boundaries through text, not asking for free dances or nudes, only keeping it brief to check in on you sometimes. Yet, at the club, he’s handsy. He’s vocalized how much he wants you and how much he wishes he could know more about you outside of the club.

San is an enigma.

You count in your head as you slowly take steps forward on stage, trying your hardest not to get distracted.

One, two.

Twirl around the pole.

Three, four.

Fall into the splits.

Five, six.

Bounce.

You get back onto your fours, shaking ass for the men lined up near the stage constantly tossing bills your way and shoving it under the ties of your bikini bottoms. It isn’t long before the main stage is where the most activity is happening— the club incredibly busy tonight with tons of celebrations. You’ve just stepped out of a VIP booth, your client paying you more than you could ask for by simply requesting if you could just work the pole for him. You gladly oblige, making it one less man to give a lap dance to before your shift is over. 

Besides, you can’t help but think of San.

And the moment you start to think about him, is the exact moment you find him lingering in the club with his boys— eyes scanning the stage and room before they finally find you near the VIP booths. It’s been a minute since they’ve stopped by. San has mentioned that he and his friends have just been swamped at work and that he can’t wait to let some steam out soon. He’s in all black tonight; black fitted slacks, boots, a black-button up with his chest partially exposed. He’s got a silver chain around his neck, and god, does the sight immediately do things to you.

They order a round of drinks before San finds himself at one of the seats next to the stage. He’s entertaining the crowd a bit, joining in when your coworker steals the stage and grabs the attention from the men around you. You don’t mind because it gives you the opportunity to slip away and take a breather, maybe run for a quick water break before you sway your hips in San’s direction. 

And sure enough, he’s been waiting. Like he always is.

Just as you sweet talk your way through the crowd and grab a few extra tips for it, San gently wraps his hand around your wrist and pulls you onto his lap. He smirks at you, eyes glazed over from all the alcohol he’s already downed.

“Mm, I’ve been waiting.” He says. “Can I have you?” The question sends shivers down your spine, his touch against your hip electrifying. 

“Depends.” You tease as he slips a few bills into your bra. “Can you handle it tonight? You’re pretty drunk.”

“Can always handle you, babygirl.” He says in your ear. You instantly stand to your feet and grab his hand, leading him to one of the free VIP booths. As soon as you pull the curtains close and try to work your way over to the pole, San pulls you back onto his lap— hands caressing your sides as you fix your position and properly straddle him. “Need you here, not there.”

“Thought you liked watching me work the pole.”

“I do, but not as much as I like watching you on me.”

“You’re incredibly suave tonight, what’s gotten into you?” You giggle, feeling San’s hands grope your ass.

“Just missed you.”

“We’ve been talking quite a bit.”

“I know, but it’s not the same as seeing you.” 

“You just missed the club.”

“Nah. You.” He corrects you. Something about San is different tonight, but you can’t say you dislike it. He’s a little more straightforward, a little more bolder, a little more open about his want— his need— for you. Especially when he caresses your tits; palm gently gliding over before giving your nipples a good pinch. Especially when his lips ghost over your neck, jaw, finally finding its way to your ear. Especially when he whispers about how pretty you look and how he wishes he could kiss you.

“Who said you couldn’t?” He pauses for a moment to look at you, really look at you, before taking his hand to your cheek and bringing you down to his lips. The way your lips crash is intense, full of lust.

Want.

Need.

A craving to be fulfilled.

The kiss easily turns wet, sloppy; San’s hands digging half crescents into your hips as he guides you to work your hips against him. He lets out a shaky breath in between, lips now traveling down to your jaw, neck.

“Fuck.” You hear him groan against your skin, right before his tongue glides against the surface; nibbling and sucking gently to soothe the mark.

“San.” You call his name as he continues down to the base of your neck, collarbone— lips now pressed against your inner breast. Part of you feels so, so good in San’s arms. But the other half feels so incredibly conflicted about the whole situation solely because San is an enigma. You aren’t sure if it’s enough to sway you away. Reality hits when the crowd outside roars in cheers, pulling you away from the sweet daydream, the sweet fog that temporarily clouded your vision. Your hands rest on his shoulders as you gently pry him away and push him back. “San.” You repeat.

“Yeah?”

“We shouldn’t.” He licks his lips, eyes still glued onto yours. Surprisingly, he doesn’t fight back, no. Instead, he kisses you one last time— lips locked until one of you pulls away first. You hop off his lap and walk off towards the curtain, giving him one last look before leaving him alone. “See you out there, okay?” Is all you manage to say. San knows better than to do this here, of all places, but he can’t seem to help himself. He’s stuck on you, has this pull to you, and he wants it all. He doesn’t fight though, because he should be doing better. This probably looks all wrong and confusing to you and he doesn’t mean to do that. He’s just no good at this, no good at approaching you— you, so sexy and so independent.

It’s something about you, and he’s losing his mind.

“Shoot your fucking shot already.” Hongjoong comes around the corner from the bathroom, running into San as he exits the VIP booth.

“What?” He asks, still a bit discombobulated after the short but intense session in the booth.

“Your girl.”

“She’s not my girl.”

“Shut up.” He says, forehead furrowed. “We come to the club and all you do is look for her. Can’t tell me there isn’t anything more to it.”

“I don’t know.”

“Just do it. What do you have to lose? You’re not getting any younger.” Hongjoong snickers, but it quickly fades when San’s expression hasn’t changed. “You’re just trying to fuck, right?” San finally meets his eyes but he doesn’t say anything, and it kinda freaks Hongjoong out. “What the fuck, San?”

“What?”

“You actually like her? You can’t be serious. I thought it was just a one time thing–”

“What the fuck does it matter?” San lets out a small chuckle to play off the whole thing, but frankly, he’s trying his hardest to not let Hongjoong ruin his mood. “Look, I’m not trying to think about this here. Ready?” He nods towards the bar, finding Mingi and Wooyoung amongst the crowd.

For the rest of the night, you do what you do best— deflect and avoid. You’re not sure how long you can keep doing this around San, especially every time you have an encounter with him. You start questioning yourself so much that it gets to you, that the reality of the situation starts dawning on you even though you have no foundation to back things up. But, you’d like to think that you haven’t fallen too deep; you could still swim up to the surface if you needed to, and you’d like to keep it that way.

However, that feels like a far reach when your shift ends. You feel like you’ve escaped for the umpteenth time until you realize you really haven’t, and that maybe, San was always going to be an enigma you were meant to figure out.

“Y/N.” You hear a familiar voice call for you as you walk down the street. You’re still walking at a steady pace, but the steps behind you seem to be catching up fairly quickly. “Y/N—” You turn and place your hand over his mouth, making San furrow his brows at you.

“We’re still nearby. I’d like it if you didn’t go yelling my name around like that.” He chuckles as you let him go, continuing your walk home.

“Some people should know your name by now, right?”

“And the majority that don’t?” You look at him. “Let’s keep it that way.”

“Sorry, beautiful.” You playfully roll your eyes, trying to keep your guard up.

“What’re you doing, San?”

“Walking you home.”

“What about your friends?” You pause in your steps, creating enough distance between you and the club by now.

“They can handle their own.” He shrugs. “Let me walk you.”

“Then, what?”

“Then at least I know you’re safe and sound.” You let out a breath before continuing to walk with San. You aren’t gonna lie— having San’s company makes you feel ten times safer, and you feel comfortable having him alongside you. Usually, you rush your walk just to get home in one piece. Tonight, you can finally enjoy the crisp, night time air for a bit longer. 

Tonight, you can finally enjoy the stars for a bit longer.

Tonight, you can enjoy San for a bit longer.

“San?”

“Hm?”

“Don’t you get tired of going to the club?” He shakes his head and laughs.

“Not really. It’s kinda fun. Beats going to a regular club.”

“Can I ask?” He nods. “What do you do for work?”

“I just work for a tech company in their finance department.”

“Interesting.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t know tech guys liked strip clubs so much.”

“Change of scenery.” You chuckle, easing up a bit in San’s company. “Is this your usual walk home?”

“Mhm. It’s not so bad.”

“Yeah, but it’s also like.. 3am.” San looks down at you. “Why don’t you just take an Uber home or something?”

“Why, when it’s within walking distance?”

“Safety reasons. You don’t feel scared?”

“Not really. I’ve done this walk for years now.”

“Why don’t I just bring you home from now on?” You laugh.

“Even if you don’t go to the club?”

“Especially when I don’t go to the club.”

“That’s too much work. I can’t ask you to do that. Plus, you work a regular 9-5 I’m assuming.”

“But, I’m offering? I don’t really trickle in right at 9 for work, as long as I make my 8 or so hours for the day. Plus, I can work from home sometimes.” You don’t say anything, so he quickly follows up with: “I know the walk is close, but it makes me feel weird about letting you be out here this late after work.”

“Hm.” You look at him.

“Let me.” 

“Hey, just so we remember this— you offered and put that out on the table. Not me.” He laughs.

“Got it, your honor.”

“Are you not cold?”

“No. The cold is helping a lot right now.”

“How drunk were you today?”

“Pretty drunk.” He laughs. “It’s been a very long couple of weeks. I probably sound like a broken record but there’s no better way to put it. Lots of deadlines to meet with little time to prep.”

“Ah, the surprise deadlines. I’m sure it went fine, right?”

“Yeah, sure. After all the stress they put me through first.” San snorts.

“It’s done now. You made it.” You turn the corner and continue to walk down the path until you reach your building— a small, quaint building in the middle of the residential area. You lead San to your door at the far right corner of the building. “Welp, this is me.” You turn to look at him and he gives you a tiny, toothless smile.

“Cute.” You awkwardly fiddle with your fingers, feeling bad about turning San away. A part of you genuinely wants his company outside of the club and he seems to want the same, too.

“D-do you wanna come in, by any chance?”

“Only if you’re okay with it.”

“I am.” You turn to unlock the door. “Sorry if it’s super small and not aesthetically pleasing to look at.”

“Y/N, don’t apologize.” He steps in and steps out of his shoes, eyes wandering around your tiny studio. “It’s nice. I like the plants.” He eyes the plants near the shelf that blocks off your bed from the couch, TV and ‘living room’ area.

“Thanks. I try to take really good care of them.” He chuckles as he plops onto the couch.

“It’s a cozy space. It’s perfect for you, no?”

“I like it. I’ve been here for the past year and a half or so? Jongho’s aunt is the landlord and he did a lot to convince her to let me have this place for decent rent.”

“That’s nice.”

“Yeah. He was probably tired of me.” You grab two water bottles from your fridge. “I lived with him for a long time. We shared rooms.”

“He’s a really good friend.”

“He is.” You stand near him and hand him the water bottle. “Make yourself at home, I’m just gonna take a quick shower.”

“Can I join?” 

“Do you wanna be tossed out?” He laughs.

“Kidding.” He pulls out his phone and begins to scroll through his social media. “I’ll wait patiently.” You grab your shirt and shorts before running into the bathroom to take a quick body shower, excited to rinse off the night from your skin. It only takes you about 15 minutes to fully get ready for bed, San still waiting patiently on your couch. His eyes shift from his screen to you—

Slowly ogling your body,

Down to your legs.

“Feel better?”

“Mhm.” You plop next to him, watching as he lets his head rest on the back of the couch. “Tired?”

“Yeah.”

“You should go home and get rest.”

“Do you want me to go home?” He looks at you and you aren’t really sure how to answer the question. Yes, you do, so San can rest.

But no, you don’t, because you like having him here.

You can’t help but remember the events that transpired earlier at the club and what it would feel like to have his lips on you again—

“No, not really.”

“Good, cause I wanna keep you company for a little longer.”

“San?”

“Yeah, pretty girl?”

“When you kissed me earlier—” You lick your lips and swallow the lump in your throat. “Did you kiss me because you were drunk at the club, or because you genuinely wanted to?”

“I told you I really wanted to.” You sit and look at him, unsure of how you feel about his response. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

“It’s not that.”

“Then?”

“I don’t know, San. I can’t read you.”

“You don’t have to.” He sits up, his face only inches away from yours. “It’s okay to tell me you don’t believe me, Y/N. I’d rather you be honest than not.”

“Then, no. I don’t.” He lets out a tiny, breathy laugh, a small smirk perked up on the corner of his lips.

“Fair enough.” He says lowly, eyes scanning your lips, your face and all its features. “Then, will you give me another chance to show you so you do believe me?” His thumb gently caresses your chin before grazing over your bottom lip. “Hm?” He hums. You nod, giving him leverage to dip down further, lips locked with yours for another soft, passionate kiss. It quickly deepens when San slips his tongue in; his fighting for dominance against yours. You find yourself hurrying to position yourself onto his lap, hands grabbing at his shirt. He gently nibbles on your jaw before making his way back down to your neck, no longer hesitating to suck on certain spots to leave his mark. His hands make their way up your shirt, palming at your tits while you fiddle with the buttons of his shirt. “Let’s get this off, baby.” The petname sends shivers down your spine, making you easily oblige to his request.

You shed off his shirt just as he tosses yours to the side, mouth instantly latching onto your perked bud. His tongue moves in a circular motion, pulling back with a pop before moving onto the next. You let out a moan when he flicks around your nipple, sucking gently before trailing his lips a bit further down.

“Hold onto me. Need you on the bed.” He huskily says as you wrap your arms and legs around him, San’s hands coming down to grip your ass. He takes you to your bed, wasting no time to get rid of the rest of the clothing sitting on your bodies. Everything feels so intimately rushed with San because there’s so much desire, so many thoughts and cravings to be fulfilled. He continues to kiss you, slipping two digits into you to test the waters— to see how wet you are, how tight you are. “Jesus.” He mumbles against your lips. 

You are dripping.

“Sannie.” The nickname accidently slips from your lips again, making him smile against you.

“So cute when you say my name like that.” He lets out a breath. “You’re so wet for me. Think you can take me now?” He’s pumping himself and the sight makes you drool. He’s perfectly built— toned abs and biceps, skin dipped in honey, a perfectly thick cock. You nod, eager to get a taste of San, eager to see what he’ll do to you.

“Need you.”

“Oh, you do?” He has that smug smirk on his face just as positions himself at your entrance. “Shit, I don’t have a condom—” 

“Here.” You quickly dig through your nightstand and grab a condom you got last week. Dude who tipped you off thought he was slick by throwing a condom in there, thinking he could get some.

At least it came in handy to your liking.

San quickly rips the packet open, throwing the condom on before lowering himself back down onto you. You let out a broken moan when he slips himself in, slowly burying himself to the hilt. His breath is hot against your neck, the both of you releasing shaky exhales while you get used to the feeling. He begins to rock his hips at a slow, steady pace; mumbling curses against your skin as he adjusts to your walls sucking him in.

“God, you feel so good— fuck, Y/N. You’re so hot.” He grunts, his thoughts running wild about seeing you at the club, getting his lap dances.

To this.

Everything about you drives San wild and he’s not even sure how he can explain the feeling. So sexy, so independent; attitude on na-na while worrying about yourself and yourself only.

San starts to fuck you faster, hips pounding against you and echoing in the studio. You’re both probably a bit too loud for your neighbors right now, but you truly could care less. San was driving himself into you at a delicious pace, hitting you in all the right spots.

“San.” You call his name, hands tugging at the hair sitting on the nape of his neck. “Like that— like that.” You whimper. “Feels so good.”

“Yeah, baby?” He sits up to pound against you at a different angle, hands at your thighs to spread you completely open. He loves seeing the way your slickness coats his cock, his head tilting back in immense pleasure. “Wanna cum for me, pretty girl? Wanna cum all over this dick? So good for me.” He praises, and praises, thumb coming down to work your clit. 

“Oh, god.” You moan, hands gripping at the sheets as you feel yourself tipping over the edge the more San fucks into you, the more he rubs at your clit, the more your hips match his movements. You have never been this turned on by someone— at least, not in a very long time. San is so, so attractive. He is suave, and he knows what he’s doing with you. “So close.” San continues to praise you, telling you how beautiful you look underneath him.

How pretty you are.

How badly he wants you.

How you always drive him crazy.

And if it wasn’t for the constant praising, if it wasn’t for the way his hips worked so well against yours, if it wasn’t for the way San was skillfully rubbing at your clit— you wouldn’t be close to unraveling so quickly.

“San, I’m—“ You barely make out before you come undone beneath him, mouth slacked open as a silent moan leaves your lips; body trembling in his grip. This gives him momentum to drive his hips into you faster, harder; uncoiling shortly afterwards.

“Shit, Y/N. Feels too good.” San groans, unloading into the condom. His hands tightly grip your thighs as he gives it one, two more thrusts before coming back down from his high.

Everything feels so beautiful, yet intimately rushed. So, so good yet equally so, so bad for you.

Before you can even say anything, San lowers himself to give you a kiss on the lips. He kisses you for awhile before slipping himself out and grabbing a napkin to wrap the condom in. He quietly takes another few napkins to help clean up, wiping you gently before moving onto himself and plopping onto your bed next to you.

“You okay?” He asks, eyes closed as he regulates his breathing.

“Mhm.”

“Good?”

“Maybe.” He chuckles at your response, pulling you into his arms while you pull the sheets over the both of you. “Definitely worn out, though.”

“Yeah, same.” He kisses the top of your head. “Mind if I crash here for a bit? I don’t mind leaving too, if it makes you uncomfortable. Just let me know.”

“No, you’re good. I don’t mind, San.”

“Was hoping you’d say that.” You chuckle, adjusting your position to comfortably lay on San and fall asleep on his chest.

This is when you start to regret ever giving San the attention, your number, everything. 

Because now that you know him a little more, San has become your kryptonite.

After that night, you woke up to an empty bedside— almost no signs of San entirely in your studio. Though it made your heart clench a little bit, part of you knew you wouldn’t be waking up to him.

For work, for other reasons.

Other reasons being that maybe, he really just did want you the one time. And the thought lingered for a little longer when he took awhile to text you that day, your mind running through all the worst possible scenarios during the hours.

▹ FLASHBACK

You slept like a baby after what felt like years, warmth of the sheets still engulfing you as your eyes flutter open. The sun leaves a trail down your sheets, everything quiet; still. When you turn, you find that San is gone— the dip on that side of the bed long gone, his clothes gone, waterbottle gone.

It was like he was never here in the first place.

Your clothes are set neatly off on the edge of the bed instead of the floor. And god, it feels kinda lonely without San. It’s your first telltale sign of attachment, though you know you shouldn’t be at that point after one intimate night with him.

But, it’s hard.

You check your phone and there aren’t any new texts besides Jongho and his need to send you random Instagram reels or TikToks. You lay in bed for a bit longer, letting out a soft sigh when you catch yourself wondering about San in that way. You shut your eyes for a little more, hoping you’ll be able to shake off the ‘what if’s’ with a couple of more hours of sleep. 

Meanwhile, San tiredly walks into the office a bit past 10am, hopping straight into his first meeting of the day. It lasts an hour before he’s finally able to walk to the kitchen to grab his first [and much needed] cup of coffee.

“What the fuck happened to you last night, Mr. Suave?” Wooyoung comes beside him, waiting to get his cup of coffee refilled.

“I walked Y/N home.” San smirks.

“Yeah, obviously.” Wooyoung slightly glares at him. “You’re not slick, dumbass. You fucked, didn’t you?”

“What’s it to you?”

“Wow, I’m your bestfriend and you’re asking me that question?” Wooyoung lets out a little ‘pfft’ before playfully shoving San aside to finally get his refill. “I’ll take that as a yes. What’s the deal with you and Miss Crimson, anyway?”

“I like seeing her.” San shrugs. “I like her company.”

“You barely know her outside of the strip club.”

“I believe that’s the point of getting to know her.” San says in a very matter-of-a-fact tone.

“Dude, I didn’t think you’d actually go for her.” San raises his brow.

“Why is everyone saying that? What’s so wrong about it?”

“Nothing! I really just thought you were trying toot it and boot it.”

“Hm.” All San can do is hum while he stirs the stirrer around in his cup. 

“But what about Noelle? You guys have that weird, toxic ex relationship thingy going on.” Wooyoung almost visibly shudders at the thought of their complicated relationship. So much back and forth, lying, getting in each other’s beds just to fulfill a need even though they don’t mean it for shit.

Yeah, toxic.

“Yeah, no. I’m done with that.”

“Mm, but you’ve said that before. You mean it? Like you’re actually over her because you genuinely like Y/N? Or, you’re done with it until you cave again?”

“I’m done with it.”

“Yeah, we’ll see.” Wooyoung takes a sip of his coffee. “I saw her texting you again.”

“I’m trying to tell her it’s done with.”

“Don’t see the urgency though, Mr. I-like-Y/N-and-I-enjoy-her-company. Out here breaking hearts in true Choi San fashion.” 

“Don’t say shit like that.” 

“Okay.” Wooyoung laughs, leaving him in the kitchen. San sighs to himself, a little tired, stressed even, about the whole Noelle situation. Truthfully, Wooyoung is right. Him and Noelle have too much history, too much baggage. Too much of that toxic shit. San is partially to blame because he does crawl back to her, he does cave pretty easily. And it’s not even because San wants to get back with her, no. He knows they can’t work out. All they do is bring out the worst in each other. 

But, Noelle is the only thing he’s known for awhile. She fills his void pretty well because it’s familiar territory. 

He’s done with it, though. He swears. He’s confused and not entirely sure where he sees this going right now, but you are intriguing. He sees you and his curiosity skyrockets. He wants to know more about you, and after last night, he feels like he can’t get enough of you. He wants more, and he’ll continue to show you that.

▹ END

“Yo.” Jongho’s eyes are barely peeking over the screen on the FaceTime call.

“What’s up?”

“What’re you doing?”

“Just hanging out. Eating some lunch.” You continue to poke at the salad you made. “How’s work?”

“Good, I guess. I’m grabbing some food right now from the shop down the street. How’s loverboy been?”

“Would you stop calling him that?”

“Well, what else is he, Y/N?” Jongho laughs a bit. 

“Not my loverboy.”

“Says you even though he drops by to bring you food and calls you nonstop.”

“He doesn’t call me nonstop.”

“Sorry, once a day.” He gives you a look. “Have you seen him lately?”

“No. He went to the club once last week. Said he’s been busy again with work. I feel like it’s something else, though.”

“Mmm.” Jongho hums. “You’re overthinking.”

“I’m not.”

“I can hear you from here. What is it?”

“He’s just been kinda weird lately.” 

“Distant?”

“Yeah. Maybe it is just work.”

“He’s probably just got way too much on his plate.”

“I shouldn’t even be thinking about it like this too much.” You finish up your salad. “It’s fine. I’m sure he’s fine.”

“Mm, okay. Well. Are you doing your usual shift at the club later?”

“Yeah.”

“How’s it been? Wanna hang out tomorrow before your shift?” He slightly pushes the phone away after placing his order and paying at the cashier.

“It’s the same old.” You sigh. “I’m down for that though.”

“Okay. I’ll come get you.” 

“Jongho.”

“Yeah?”

“Seeing San makes me question myself. I don’t know if that’s good or not.”

“In what way?”

“I just feel ashamed. It makes me wanna look for a different job and leave the club.”

“Well, okay. Are you still happy at the club, or do you wanna do something else?”

“I’m happy but I feel like I could do better.”

“Because of San or because of you? Kinda important to differentiate. If you’re still happy but feel like you could do better for you, then great! But, if you wanna do better just to impress San and do it for him, then no.”

“I feel so stupid. I mean, he drops me off at home. We see each other from time to time–”

“Have sex with each other from time to time–”

“Jongho!”

“What?” He laughs.

“You’re in public!”

“So?! It’s natural human behavior. My god.” He laughs a bit more. “I’m not wrong though.”

“It’s so dumb. I don’t even know what this is. Probably not even something to be questioning my life like this.”

“Has San ever said anything to make you feel that way?”

“No. In fact, he’s supportive about everything and didn’t make me feel terrible about my past decisions.”

“Then you’re overthinking again.” He thanks the staff before grabbing his bag of food. “Y/N, what did I tell you? Just let things be. Don’t make any rash decisions or start assuming things if everything is fine.”

“But is everything fine?”

“It sounds like it to me. He seems like a nice guy. You might wanna have that conversation about what you two are later on if things really haven’t progressed yet, but otherwise, I truly think he’s a nice guy and he’s probably just busy.”

“Jongho–” Suddenly, a few knocks come to your door, throwing you off guard mid-call.

“Guess that’s my cue to go. Text me about tomorrow.”

“Alright.” You say right before ending the call. You set your bowl aside in the kitchen before looking through the peephole on the door. To your surprise [or not], San is standing there on his phone with a small bag in hand.

“Hey.” You say, as you let him in. He smiles, but San doesn’t respond right away with the same enthusiasm. Instead, he shifts his attention to the text that came through on his phone before tucking it away and smiling at you.

“Hey. Sorry.” He hands you a small bag. “I bring pastries.”

“Mm, more pastries.” You tease with a giggle. “Thanks. What brings you here?”

“Sorry, I meant to text you but I forgot. I just wanted to see you since I haven’t been able to for a bit.” He kisses you on the cheek before making his way to your couch.

“Work’s been crazy, hm?” He sighs and leans his head back.

“Uh, yeah. It has been. But, it’s finally the weekend and I can kick back for a bit.” His hand comes up to run your back while you dig through the pastries he bought. “Did you eat already?”

“Mm, yeah. I just made a small salad. I’m not too hungry. Was on the phone with Jongho for a bit.”

“I see. You should eat a little more before your shift.”

“I will.” You look at him. “Are you guys going to the club tonight?” He nods.

“Mingi said he needs it.” You chuckle.

“Do you need it, too?”

“Kinda, but I’m here with you already and I get you all to myself.”

“You do that at the club, too.” You tease.

“Can’t help it.” San quietly looks at you while his arm is loosely around your waist. You observe him for a bit, trying to see if you can read into him or find any obvious signs of what else has been stressing him lately. He’s the same, except more tired, not as talkative or playful like he usually is. Your gut tells you it’s something deeper than work and you’re not sure how you’ll figure him out.

“San.”

“Mhm?” 

“You sure it’s just been work stressing you out?” He leans forward to meet your gaze with a small smile.

“Yeah. I’m sorry I haven’t really been myself lately.”

“No, it’s okay. You don’t have to apologize.”

“I missed you, though. I really missed you.” His finger is tracing soft circles against your hip. He dips forward to place a gentle kiss right below your earlobe, his soft, pink lips sending tingles down your spine. You shouldn’t be buckling this fast around San, but god, does he have you wrapped around his finger. He places a kiss at the corner of your lips and you instantly feel like jelly.

You missed him, too.

And you want him. Badly.

Before you know it, San is sitting up against the wall, watching you bounce on his dick like the good girl you are. He’s watching through hooded eyes; glued to the way your tits bounce, the way his cock slides in and out of you, the way you moan for him like all of this was made for you and you only.

“Fuck.” San groans, hands on your hips to guide you and slam you down onto his length. “You know how to ride me so well.” He watches as you begin to roll your hips against him, taking more control while riding him; it's pure ecstasy. Your moans, your movements, everything about it is just.. addicting. 

You have such a captivating presence, and San can't help but lose himself in you.

“Baby, if you keep working me like that, you’ll make me cum.” He moans, head resting back against the wall. Your hand rests on his neck, giving it a gentle squeeze as you feel yourself bubbling with pleasure. Your clit is rubbing against him deliciously, and you can’t help but sit back and ride him at a different angle. 

“Sannie.” You moan loudly. “Ohhhhshit.” Your words melt together when you suddenly feel yourself unraveling quicker than expected. “I’m cumming— fuck, fuck, fuck—“ You repeat like a mantra, hips working sloppily against him as you come undone; the sounds bouncing off the walls nothing short of pornographic.

“That’s my good girl.” San loves watching the way your face contorts in pleasure, the way you moan loudly, the way he could hear how wet you are. Once you’ve come down from your high, San wastes no time getting you on your fours— face down, ass up. He gives your ass a good knead, spitting onto your pussy before lining himself back up at your entrance. He pushes himself in and works at a steady rhythm, giving your ass a good smack. You let out another moan, tears pricking your lids at how sensitive you’re feeling right now. He’s fucking into you so good, your ass is clapping against him. “You look so good like this, baby. You like it when I fuck you like this, hm?” He gives your ass another smack, cheek red from the impact. “Does it feel good?”

“So good, San.” He moans loudly as he continues to piston into you.

“Your pussy was made for me.” He groans. “Whose is it, Y/N?”

“Y-yours.” You choke, cheek digging deep into the mattress. 

“Louder, babygirl. I can’t hear you.”

“Yours!”

“There you go.” He grunts, ass feeling numb from San fucking into you. The way he’s driving into you and hitting your spot at this angle feels so good, you feel the pleasure bubbling in your pit again. You raise yourself up a bit to rub at your clit, pushing your orgasm forward as San’s movements begin to get sloppy. “Shit, Y/N.”

“San, cum for me.” You egg him on as he begins to pant. Hearing him praise you and call your name pushes you over the edge once more, hands gripping at the sheets while you shudder from the second orgasm taking over. San quickly pulls out and unloads onto your ass, back.

“God.” He huffs as he gives himself one last pump and pants heavily. “So good for me. You okay, pretty girl?” His hand comes up your back, leaving a random trail of kisses along the way.

“Yeah.” You let out a breath.

“Let me clean you up. Don’t move.” He quickly runs to your bathroom to grab some wipes. “Gonna be kinda cold. I’m sorry.” He apologizes in advance before taking a wipe to your back.

“That feels kinda nice.” San chuckles, allowing you to lay back on your bed first before slipping in next to you post-cleanup.

“You feel nice.” You laugh, laying your head on his chest while he grabs his phone.

“So, what time are you guys heading to the club tonight?”

“I don’t know. Probably between 9-10pm?” 

“You know there’s an event tonight, right?”

“I heard.” San laughs. “Some male dancers are guesting at the club?”

“Yeah. They’ll be on the second stage, though.” San nods, a few texts coming into his phone. You can’t help but glaze over the previews, back to back texts coming in from a ‘Noelle.’ The messages aren’t too lengthy, but she is texting him quite a few times and the previews alone are enough to make your stomach twist and turn.

It’s making you anxious, and for some reason, your gut tells you this Noelle is significant to San. 

He’s not trying to pay attention to it right now though, and it’s probably just because he’s in your company post-sex. He briefly looks at the messages at the top, thumb coming up to swipe them away. 

“Is it just you guys?” You ask, wondering if San would open up to you otherwise.

“Uh, yeah. Pretty sure. Unless Mingi invites other people.”

“Mmm, okay.”

“I’m excited to see you on stage again.” He looks down at you with a smirk. 

“Yeah right.”

“Swear. Everyone knows I’m only there for you. It’s kinda nice to show it off.”

“Show what off?”

“That you’re mine.” He winks, making your heart melt into a puddle. You hate that San gives you these signals, but there hasn’t been much to it besides seeing each other occasionally outside of the club and fucking each other’s brains out. 

“Don’t say shit you don’t mean.”

“Who said I didn’t mean it?!” You shake your head and turn to your side, now going through your own phone. San gives you a kiss on the shoulders, hand coming up to rub your arm while he continues to plant random kisses at the nape of your neck, below your ear, jaw.

“Sannie, what are you doing?” You giggle, ticklish from the feeling of his lips against your skin.

“Kinda want you again.”

“Are you serious?” You turn to look at him and he smirks.

“Can’t help it. You drive me crazy.” His hand comes down to your thigh, giving it a squeeze. “Wanna keep taking care of you.”

“Do you, now?” You tease, letting San continue to kiss you; hand coming down and ghosting your clit. You decide to let San have you once more before he’s struggling to part from your lips, even as he’s about to head out the door. 

You blush watching him leave, excited to show off and see him tonight.

The night comes rather quickly because the club is incredibly packed with all sorts of people making their way in to see all of the dancers. You’re having to entertain on stage, deliver drinks and give a few private dances. It’s nothing beyond what you’re already used to doing, but the clientele is booming tonight and you’re constantly moving around all ends of the club.

It’s a little past 10pm when you catch wind of Mingi, Hongjoong, San and Wooyoung. And for a minute, your eyes light up. San immediately plops onto a chair, legs spread as he smirks. He gestures for you to come over with his finger and lightly taps his lap, making you giggle to yourself while you continue to perform a few tricks on the pole. 

“Gorgeous.” San eyes the high-cut bodysuit sitting on your body, showing off all your curves beautifully. 

“You made it.” You crouch down in front of him, hands trailing up his legs.

“Of course, why would I miss out some more?” He winks, stuffing a few bills in the slit of your bodysuit while you stand lean towards his ear. 

“Can I get you something to drink?”

“You?” You laugh.

“Cliché.”

“Kidding, baby.” He bites onto his bottom lip. “Can we get shots of whiskey?”

“All four of you?”

“Yes please, pretty lady.” Hongjoong smirks. “Bodysuit looks good on you.”

“Openly hitting on San’s woman is crazy.” Wooyoung laughs loudly.

“Just complimenting her.” 

“Yeah, keep it up.” San teases Hongjoong.

“Thank you. I’ll be back.” You smile at Hongjoong before stepping over to the bar to grab their shots. At this point, it feels like everything happens so quickly; the following moments, the rest of the night— all a blur. When you return to the four, they’ve added a few more to the group. And this time, it’s a group of 5 girls— one that is in a heated conversation with San off to the side. You slow your pace, watching as she clings around his waist, but he gently shoves her off and shakes his head. He heads back to his seat and she welcomes herself on his lap, ignoring everything that he had just done to her moments ago. San doesn’t seem entirely pleased being that he’s been trying to distance himself from her, but to no avail— you’ve already returned and he panics.

“Here.” You hand them their drinks, handing San’s last.

“Noelle, seriously. Can you please get off my lap?” Noelle. You can’t help but feel your heart fall to the pit of your stomach, though you’re trying your best to brush it off in the heat of the moment. 

“You’re such a killjoy.” She whines, sitting on the edge of the chair. 

“Thank you, love.” His look is unreadable when he reaches for his glass and so is yours. But, San knows you saw everything and he knows it all looks wrong. It, all of this, must seem so fucked up to you right now and he wishes he could just pull you aside to clear up the air.

“Thank you, Miss Crimson.” Mingi raises his shot glass to you.

“Is that the stripper San is into?” You overhear one of the girls ask, followed by a:

“He’s not serious, right? Her?” Noelle scoffs and you subtly roll your eyes, getting ready to head back to the bartender. You weren’t gonna let this girl get to you. Not today.

“Have a good night.” Is what you tell Wooyoung in passing, making him flash San a look shortly afterwards.

“Don’t think she’s too happy about Noelle being here.”

“I didn’t know they were actually coming either.” San glares at him, trying his best to shake off Noelle and continue to create some distance. He truthfully didn’t think Noelle and her friends were coming along. Mingi had briefly mentioned the event to them, sliding in a stupid joke about how much San loves coming solely because of you. She didn’t take it lightly, hence why she decided to come along even though their initial plan was to head to the regular club down the street. 

When San sees Noelle, he’s pretty irritated. The last time she was texting him, she was blowing up his phone about shit from the past and their relationship. Quite frankly, he no longer has energy to deal with her and he’s tired of the back and forth. He doesn’t wanna start any issues tonight since it seems too late to brush them off and he doesn’t wanna dampen the mood. He knows how clingy she gets and he knows how she can act when she feels him slowly slipping from her grip, especially if they’re together in person. The last thing San wanted to do was upset you, nor did he want you to think of him as an asshole who only wanted you for one thing. 

That was not his plan.

He knows you’re not happy and he knows he fucked up for even trying to brush this off, for hiding Noelle when he had no reason to.

“You aren’t actually into the stripper are you?” She questions San and he furrows his brows.

“It literally isn’t any of your business.”

“Wow, so you are? I came out tonight, hoping we could—”

“Oh god, enough of that shit. Not here.” Wooyoung sighs. “Let’s go enjoy ourselves, that’s the whole point of tonight, right?” Wooyoung tries to push his bestfriend to the main stage, leaving the girls to enjoy the men on the second stage. You’ve continued to deliver a few drinks around the other room before stepping back onto the main stage. In your peripherals, you can see San eyeing you; almost pleading for you to swing by his way.

Except, you don’t, and you start to entertain a few men on the other side of the stage. San feels his blood boil a little when he sees you giving your attention to another man, knowing full well you were doing this on purpose.

And you were. You weren’t exactly sorry about it.

Because you didn’t have time for this bullshit, and your job still needed to get done. At the end of the day, you are just a dancer. What more could you be to him? You temporarily feed into their fantasies, nothing more, nothing less.

The reality is hitting you more and more tonight.

It makes you feel stupid for having thought otherwise, for letting the possibility live longer than it should’ve.

You’re not sure if you have time to entertain someone who has all that baggage.

San comes around to see you in better view, watching as you crouch down with your legs cocked open; swiping two fingers across your tongue before running it over your [barely] clothed pussy. San clenches his jaw when the man in front of you leans forward with a huge smirk on his lips, holding a roll of bills in his hand.

“Uh oh.” Wooyoung instigates. “I told you so. In true Choi San fashion.”

“Stop that.” Wooyoung shrugs.

“Noelle’s here, hoping she could be the one to go home with you tonight. And that one—“ He points at you over his glass. “Thinks you’re toying with her emotions. Pick a fucking battle.”

“I already told you I was done with the whole Noelle thing. She doesn’t get it for whatever reason.” San slightly groans and clicks his teeth. “Why did Mingi invite them, anyway?”

“I don’t know? I can’t control that boy’s mouth. Besides, you know he’s been trying to get with Donna after those dates didn’t go well.” San sees you dip into a private booth with the guy, shutting the curtains closed without looking his way. He takes a sip of his drink, stepping closer to the stage to try and enjoy himself– ignoring the possibilities of what’s going on behind that curtain.

The club feels suffocating, and he wants out.

Especially when you seem to be taking your time in the booth.

“You wanna head out? Noelle and the girls wanna head down the street now. Said they’re bored of the guys already.” Mingi asks, pointing at the girls getting ready to head out to the next club down the street. 

“Already?” Hongjoong cocks a brow up. “We literally just got here.”

“Yeah, I guess they’re over it.”

“I mean, whatever. Just don’t ask me to leave the other club hella early.” Joong rolls his eyes. “Whose bright fucking idea was to invite them anyway?” He glares at Mingi.

“Sorry! I wanted to be nice and extend the invite. I didn’t think they’d be over it so quickly.”

“Right, you wanted to be nice and get into Donna’s pants.”

“Do you wanna stay back?” Wooyoung asks in San’s ear, but all San can do is shrug. “We don’t have to go with them.”

“Let’s just go, I’ll never hear the end of it if we stay back.” Wooyoung simply looks at him in return.

“Let’s go!” Mingi yells. San subtly looks back to try and see if you’re out of the booth, but Mingi is already shoving him towards the door– towards Noelle and her friends.

“Choi San, hurry up!” Noelle whines as she waits for him.

“Noelle, you don’t have to wait for me. You can go with your friends.”

“Why are you acting so mean tonight?” She tugs on his wrist, but he snatches it out of her grip. “It definitely can’t be about her, right?”

“Go have fun with your friends and I’ll worry about my own.” San doesn’t mean to sound like an asshole, but he’s truly tired of the back and forth between Noelle. He hates that she acts this way, and he hates that she’s here. He feels like the night has gone to waste because he won’t be able to fully enjoy himself.

On top of that, you’re livid with him.

Speaking of you— You’ve kept yourself close to the pole even though your client has asked you for a lap dance. Once, twice, maybe even thrice. He’s attractive, but your mind is glued to San and how terrible this night ended up playing out for you. Luckily, the client doesn’t seem to fight much against it; as long as he gets his fix of you somehow, he’ll take it. Tonight’s one of those nights where you’ll stay for the full 45 to get the extra money, to hide away from the rest of the crowd. 

One, two.

Twirl around the pole.

Three, four.

Invert and lean back.

Five, six.

Gently fall into the splits.

Seven, eight.

Bounce your ass on the stage. 

“You’re a fucking goddess.” He says, gently palming himself through his pants, forcing you to mask the disgust you feel watching him openly do that. Though, you’ve seen worse and you’ve trained yourself to have the thick skin needed in this industry. Right now, it hits differently. Because of San, because of Noelle.

Because of everything.

“You sure you can’t come down here and get on daddy’s lap? I think I’ve slipped you enough money to at least get a lapdance.”

“Sorry, not doing that tonight, love.” 

“Aw, why not? Not even for me?”

“Not for you. Or them.” You say, bending over to at least give him a peek of what he wants.

“You sure you’re not saving it all for someone else?”

“Nope.”

“Gonna have to come back on a better night then.” He bites his bottom lip. “You’re my favorite. I swear you drive me crazy.” The statement is enough to trigger San’s voice in your head, causing you to rush through the last bit of your pole dance before thanking the man for his time and tip.

When you step out of the booth, you no longer see San and his group and it instantly makes your heart clench. You didn’t know what to expect tonight, but you definitely didn’t expect San to leave so quickly with his friends—

With Noelle and her friends.

Now, you’re back to square one. You feel like a mere distraction, something that temporarily fills the void; nothing more, nothing less. You quickly head to the back to get some air and a moment to yourself, finding a few texts from San:

san: Y/N, i’m sorry. i didn’t know they were coming. mingi just invited them and didn’t really say anything about it.

san: i know you’re probably wondering about her and i can explain. it’s really not what it looks like. 

san: let me know when you’re off? i wanna take you home still. 

san: i wanna talk to you and see you. please.

You swallow the lump in your throat as you shut off the phone and ignore the texts. Even if you wanted to answer back, even if it fucking pains you to re-run through those texts, you keep your head up and throw on a brave face for the rest of your shift.

San is still your kryptonite, and you aren’t sure where to go from here.

You need to leave quickly enough to avoid running into San tonight. 

Guess you’d be taking your usual walk alone. 

You managed to dodge San and his friends on your way home that one awful night, ignoring his calls even as you’ve gotten comfy and tucked in your bed. San continued to blow up your phone into the next day until he realized you weren’t gonna answer him anytime soon.

And it sucked.

But, you needed to hold your ground. You needed to go back to the Y/N who worried about her own, the Y/N who didn’t let anything faze her even if she was hurt by loved ones, by friends.

You needed to go back to the Y/N who kept it real with herself and was proud of how far she’s come despite the ups and downs.

You hadn’t seen San come to the club, and it was probably his way of giving you the space that you indirectly asked for. And indeed, you needed this.

You needed to go back to the old Y/N and reprioritize.

“Hey baby.” Mia says, hand on the small of your back as you dab a bit of lip gloss onto your lips.

“Hey.”

“How’re you doing?” She brushes your hair back and gives you a small, sympathetic smile.

“I’ve seen better days.” You let out a chuckle.

“You haven’t texted him back?” You shake your head.

“No. I don’t really know what to say. I just feel kinda dumb. Maybe we were just meant to be a thing in passing.”

“Don’t say that. I know he had some feelings for you, and I know the situation was unique. But, nobody would go through all that effort if it didn’t matter to them.”

“Mm, yeah, He just has some baggage he has to deal with and I don’t think I have time or energy for that.”

“For all you know, it could just be her.”

“But, why hasn’t he officially let her go then?” Mia pouts a bit.

“I think he’s over it. He didn’t seem all that interested in her at all.” She nods. “Talk to him, hun. Let him explain. It might just be a misunderstanding.”

“Yeah, maybe.” She gives you a reassuring smile.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

“I know, babe. Thanks.” You give her a toothless smile, letting out a small squeal when she slaps your ass.

“Now get out there and do your thing, the clients are waiting.” You chuckle and shake your head, taking one last look in the mirror before you head out to the main stage. You strut your way across the floor, doing your usual sweet talk with a few of the men lining the stage. You take the stage for a bit and do your usual routine, letting them slip their bills wherever they can under your gear, or shower the stage with a few more extra tips. Just as you were getting into the swing of things, you catch San walking in by himself. You almost lose track of your thoughts, distracted by how good he looks. He’s sporting simple slacks and a gray-striped button up with chelsea boots, rolex on his wrist. He looks around the club before his eyes land on yours, and you suddenly feel like you’ve lost the ability to move, to dance.

▹ FLASHBACK

“I’ve never seen you this sulky. It’s kinda annoying.” Wooyoung plops next to San on the couch, watching as he slouches and lazily texts back on his phone.

“Fuck off.”

“I’m assuming she’s not answering your texts or calls yet?”

“Nope.”

“Down bad.”

“Are you here to help or to get on my nerve?” San glares at his bestfriend.

“Why don’t you just go see her?”

“I don’t wanna cross boundaries and be in her space, especially if she’s already not answering my texts or calls.”

“Maybe this is what she needs, though. She’s probably still assuming shit about Noelle. Which, by the way, I hope you ended it. For real.”

“I did. That’s why she was hella upset during the last half of the club and I left.”

“I thought you left to go after Y/N. Where exactly did you go?” 

“I mean, partially. I was gonna go after her and bring her home, but I was too late. The other half of me was pissed off because Noelle kept crying and trying to gaslight me. I told her I didn’t wanna do this anymore. Was tired of it. I told her we just don’t work and it’s time for us to move on.”

“‘Bout time you realized.” Wooyoung rolls his eyes. “I know you have love for her and I know she meant a lot to you, but that girl is crazy. You continued to feed into it, too.”

“Yeah, well.” 

“Just go see Y/N, dude. You look terrible.” San flips him off. “I mean it. If you want shit to change, then keep taking initiative.”

“I just don’t wanna scare her off. I already fucked up enough with this whole Noelle thing.”

“Damn, what did Y/N do to you?” Wooyoung laughs. “I truly didn’t think you’d end up finding your boo thing at the strip club. I’d like another thank you if this all goes well.” He smirks. “Thank you Wooyoung for making us go to the club on my birthday.” He says in a sing-song tone.

“Yeah, yeah.” San sighs. “I’ll probably head to the club tonight and try to talk to her.”

“Want me to come? Moral support.” He shakes his head.

“Thanks, but I think I’ll be good.”

▹ END

You quickly head off the stage and head to the bar, switching gears to take a break from the stage. You scurry along, hoping you aren’t making it too obvious that you’re trying to deflect and avoid San yet again. 

But, he knows. 

“Y/N, hey. Wait.” San says as you brush past him, hand gently coming to your wrist. You wiggle out of his grip, giving him a look as you continue on to the next room. “Y/N.” He continues to call, hurriedly following after you. “Y/N, please.” He says as he comes to your side while you gather a few drinks onto your tray.

“San, what? I’m working.” You respond, still keeping your attention to the drinks.

“Why haven’t you been answering my texts or calls?”

“Because.”

“Because, what? I didn’t mean to leave early without saying anything to you that night. I wanted to come back and take you home.”

“Oh, but Noelle didn’t let you, right?” 

“Y/N, please don’t do that. That’s not even what happened—” San has his hand around your wrist again, his eyes pleading for you to hear him out. 

“Aye, come on, my guy.” An unfamiliar man from the crowd comes in between you and San, ripping his hand away from your wrist. “Care to share? Stop being so selfish and gatekeeping her—”

“The fuck are you?”

“I see you come into this club with your friends, acting all high and mighty. You heard what I said.” He steps closer towards San. “Stop being so fucking selfish with her, hm? She’s for the crowd, baby’s meant to be shared—” The man suddenly slaps your ass and it turns a switch on for San. San pushes him away, causing the other man to lose his footing before attempting to swing at him.

“Stop that!” You try to yell, hoping it’d somehow break them apart. San is quick to dodge the first swing, but he gets unlucky with the second. San is quick to regain his composure, throwing a punch to him and causing him to fall to the ground. He towers over him and continues to lay a few more punches while you yell at security for assistance. “Quit it! San, stop! Stop it!” You repeat, prying him off of the man on the floor. “San!” You grip his bicep and pull him back.

“Fucking idiot.” San spits, hand coming to his jaw to ease the soreness. 

“Get them out of here!” You tell security and San furrows his brows at you.

“Y/N—”

“Out. Now!” You repeat yourself, following after security as they get their hands on both San and the other guy, escorting them out of the club. One shoves the other man through the front entrance, while the other shoves San out of the side entrance. You’re already following behind, signaling for security that it’s okay for him to leave you alone with San. He gives you a curt nod as he walks around the corner— giving you enough distance that allows privacy, but also allows him to step in if necessary. “What the fuck are you doing?!”

“I wasn’t gonna let him talk about you like that, Y/N. Don’t ask me that fucking question.”

“It’s my job.” You remind him. “I meant what are you doing here?! Why did you come here, San?”

“I came here to talk to you!” His tone raises. “You aren’t answering my texts or calls, and all I wanna do is make this right. What do you expect me to do?”

“Let it go.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because, San. What is it to you, anyway?”

“Are you serious?” He sighs, running his hand through his hair. “If you would just give me one second to talk to you—“ He pauses and lets out a frustrated sigh. “Y/N. All I want to do is talk to you and explain. I don’t wanna leave things like this.” He lowers his voice and steps closer to you.

“Then talk.” You cross your arms and shift your weight from one foot to another.

“Y/N, me and Noelle are done with. We’ve been done with for awhile. She’s my ex and we’ve gone through some shit but it’s over with.” He lets out a breath, the air cold and crisp against your skin. “Mingi invited them that night, and I just didn’t wanna cause any issues between us and ruin the night. She threw herself on me and I had been asking her to stop. I didn’t ask her to do that, nor did I want to entertain it. I shouldn’t have left with them though, I knew how that would look, too. I’m sorry. I promise you it meant nothing. I even told Noelle she needed to move on that night. I came back to the club, but you had already left.”

“San.” You shake your head. “Why?”

“Why, what?”

“Why me?”

“Y/N, I really do like you.”

“But, that’s the problem. You don’t even see the issue with this.”

“What issue?!

“Us! That’s the fucking issue, San! We come from such different lives, does that not bother you? We’ll never be on the same page, we’ll never work.” San furrows his brows, trying his hardest to take the blow even though it hurts to.

“Why would you say it like that? I don’t care about how different our lives are. That doesn’t matter to me–”

“It does to me!”

“Why?! I don’t care what people think and so shouldn’t you! Wouldn’t we be enough?”

“It’s so easy for you to say because you don’t know what it’s like to be on my side of things.”

“Then, let me know!” San raises his voice before running his hand through his hair. “Y/N, I would never take advantage of you. Never in my mind did I ever think of you that way. Why won’t you let me be here for you?”

“Because San, you had me thinking I was stupid. I felt like you were here for one thing, and it made me question everything about myself, my life. I hated feeling that way. I even compared myself to Noelle at one point.”

“She’s nothing to me! I’m sorry for having hid that from you, but I didn’t think much of it at the time since the whole thing caught me off guard. She means nothing to me, and we’re done with. I’m sorry.” For some reason, you are torn. You want to believe San, and there is a small part of you that does. However, you still can’t get over the fact that he still kept her close for lord knows how long. What if he was balancing you both at the same time? How could you know he was for sure over her and that this wasn’t just a phase?

“What if this is just a phase to you, huh? What happens when you realize how much we don’t work? That we’re just too different? That maybe she or someone else is a better fit for you all along.” Your bottom lip trembles and even though you try to hide it, San catches on. “This is my life, and it won’t change for awhile.”

“Stop putting words in my mouth and choosing how I should feel. That’s not how this works. I caught feelings for you, Y/N. Genuinely. None of our differences mattered to me, and it won’t ever. I’m sorry you felt that way and that was never my intention.” San says calmly, but god, is he terrified right now. He is anxious. Nervous. Scared. And as much as you wanna cave, you remember you are outside of the club in the freezing cold.

Arguing with San.

“San, you know what? This is enough.”

“Y/N.” He pleads through his tone.

“Please just go home.” You point at the side door before nervously rubbing at your sides. “We should talk about this another time. Not here.”

“O-okay, so are you gonna answer my texts or calls then?”

“I’ll text you, okay?” You look at him with some remorse. Right now, you don’t think you’re ready to talk to him and you probably need to sort out your thoughts before the next time. Or else, you’ll continue to try blaming him, the situation. You’ll continue to deflect, you’ll continue to let San’s words brush over your head because you aren’t used to this genuine attention— these genuine feelings, genuine intentions.

San doesn’t say anything else, but his expression makes your heart break more. You let out a sigh before turning on your heel to get back into the club and finish your shift. As soon as the door shuts and acts as a barrier between you two, a few tears escape your lids. You quickly brush them away and shake off the feelings, storming out onto the main stage to finish your night strongly.

You need Jongho.

“This fucking sucks.” You tuck your knees to your chest as Jongho sighs and pours you another shot of tequila.

“Why don’t you text him, Y/N? Just talk to him.”

“I’m kinda scared. And nervous.” You take the shot with him.

“Why? He’s literally waiting for you to text him. You’ve just been big sad over him too, don’t you think that’s a sign?”

“What am I supposed to say?”

“Oh, I don’t know, ‘hey, can we talk?’ maybe?” Jongho gives you a look before shaking his head. “I love you, but dude. Get it together. You should just talk to him and stop putting yourself through this. You obviously like the guy and he feels the same way. The whole thing with his ex was just a misunderstanding, too. What exactly are you trying to put off?”

“I think I’m just scared. You know how it was with my ex. He wasn’t nice and also made me feel ridiculously stupid and incompetent for my decisions. Even after the break up.”

“Yeah, but he’s your ex for a reason. San is not the same person.” Jongho pours you another shot. “I understand you’re scared. But, you can’t shield yourself off from everything forever. I truly think he’s a genuinely nice guy.”

“Plus, I worry about him too. How would his friends feel about us being serious? His family, his sister?” 

“I’m sure it’ll all be fine. San isn’t even worried about that, nor does he seem to care. It doesn’t matter where you come from. They should be able to see what kind of person you are and the heart you have.” 

“Mm, yeah. I just worry too much. I don’t want my life to bleed into his and ruin the shit he’s built for himself.”

“It won’t. Jeez, you aren’t a criminal Y/N. You’re great at everything you do and you’re incredibly talented. You have a lot of qualities that could take you far.” There’s another pause, enough for you and Jongho to take the last shot to the neck before you pull out your phone and click on San’s text thread.

“Fuck it.”

“Exactly.” He sips on some soda to wash down the tequila burn. “By the way, I’m never talking about you that way again.” Jongho visibly shudders, making you playfully hit him on the shoulder. 

you: hi, sorry for the random text. can we talk?

You toss your phone aside and dig your face into your hands, nervous about the text back. Granted, it’s only been close to a week and a half after the whole thing went down at the club. Time moves so fast that part of you felt terrible for making San wait in general. But, it should be a testimony to how he truly feels about you.

“What if he’s over it?” You groan into your hands.

“Then at least you know, right? You can close that chapter and move on.” Jongho takes a bite of his chicken. “Highly doubt it though.” At this point, the phone dings behind Jongho and he’s quick to grab it for you— flashing you San’s name on the screen.

“Fuck.” You whine.

san: hey. don’t apologize. of course we can. should i swing by your place soon?

“I’ll drop you off in a bit.”

“Are you sure you’re good? I can ask him to pick me up.”

“Actually, yeah. Ask him.” You chuckle as Jongho pours another shot for himself.

you: yeah, but i’m at jongho’s. do you think you can pick me up?

san: yeah i can, love. just send me the address.

“He always gets so sweet. I can’t do this.” You send San Jongho’s address.

“Yes you can!” Jongho responds. “Here, drink.” He pushes your water glass towards you. “So you don’t feel like shit later.”

san: on my way. 20 mins.

“Thanks for the food and drinks. For letting me be a crybaby. You know, the whole nine.” Jongho chuckles and nudges you on the arm.

“I got you, dude. You’re my bestfriend. I won’t let you go through these things alone.” 

“I guess I’ll keep you updated?”

“Take your time. And just be honest with him, alright? Be straight up about how you feel with everything.”

“I will.” 

When San arrives a bit after 20 minutes, you grab your things and bid your bestfriend farewell. You feel nervous, palms sweating the more you fiddle with your fingers and head down the steps to San’s car. Once you catch wind of him, you pause in your steps just to give yourself a tiny breather before committing and approaching his passenger door. He’s in a black shirt and sweats, glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. 

“Hey.” You say as you climb in, San giving you a small smile.

“Hey. You good to go?” You buckle your seatbelt and nod, allowing San to drive off to your studio. “Did you work at the shop today?”

“Mhm, I worked an earlier shift to get off at the same time as Jongho.”

“You guys just hung out?”

“Yep. Drank, ate some food. Talked about some things.”

“Some things?”

“You.” You give him a look and he nods.

“Fair enough.”

“What have you been up to?”

“Work. I’ve been working from home lately since there isn’t much requiring me to come into the office.”

“Been busy?”

“Yup, but I’ve seen worse days.” 

“I’m sorry.”

“No need to apologize.” He lets out a small chuckle as he continues to drive on. The rest of the drive to your place is quiet, but nothing feels weird or awkward. It’s surprisingly a comfortable silence and it’s probably due to the fact that you two have missed each other even though you’re both still trying to gather your thoughts.

When he pulls up into a spot on the street, San shuts off the car and immediately runs to your side to help you out. He follows behind as you lead the way, quietly unlocking your door and tossing the keys off to the side. San sits on your couch and lets out a sigh, watching as you plop next to him after grabbing some water.

“Want anything else to drink?”

“I’m okay.” He gives you a small smile. You turn to face him, a leg tucked under the other that’s swung over the edge of the couch.

“Thanks for picking me up.”

“Of course.”

“Can we talk about what’s been happening? I just really need you to be honest with me, that’s all I ask.”

“I’ll always be honest with you, Y/N. It was never my intention to make it seem otherwise.”

“Well, after everything, I did feel pretty stupid. You knew I was already doubting myself after I lost my family and friends because of my decisions. For a second, I felt like you tricked me and that I was stupid not to realize you only wanted me for one thing.” San shakes his head, but he continues to let you talk. “I started questioning myself more and I hated the feeling. I knew I couldn’t be enough for you, or that I was completely different from girls in your past. And it felt terrible. I couldn’t help but jump to conclusions that night because who am I compared to her? I’m living such a different life and I honestly wouldn’t blame you if you realized that.” You shrug. “Anyway, I felt shitty because I genuinely had feelings for you even though I was scared. I still am, especially because I don’t know if this is just a phase or what.” You feel the tears pricking your bottom lids again but you do your best to prevent San from catching on. You look down at your hands, fiddling with your sweater sleeves. You feel San shift closer to you, his hand coming up to your cheek.

“Can you look at me please?” Your eyes shift back up to him, and you feel the butterflies in your stomach the moment you two lock eyes. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.” He says softly, his thumb caressing your cheek. “I really didn’t mean to. That whole thing Noelle—” He sighs. “I’m not gonna lie, it’s been a ride with her. But meeting you and getting to know you made me realize how much I didn’t wanna be stuck in that anymore. It made me realize how much I craved normalcy with someone, something that doesn’t have to be so sad and toxic all the damn time.” He lets out a breath. “I know it sounds dumb that it took me all of this to realize, but I mean it. You make me feel things I haven’t felt in such a long time. It feels good.” He does a subtle nod. “I feel happy and good around you.”

“San, you just scare me.” A few tears stream down your cheeks and San is the first to catch them; gently wiping it away while he keeps his eyes locked onto yours. “Our lives are so different, I can’t help but worry about how this is gonna make things turn out in the future. Your family, your friends—”

“My friends are fine, they know how I feel about you. And my family knows they can’t dictate everything about my life. You—” He pauses. “Y/N, you aren’t any different just because of what you do. What matters is the kind of person you are, how you genuinely make me feel. None of that matters.”

“You know it isn’t gonna be that easy.”

“So be it. I know you’re scared, but I’m with you on this.” He runs his other thumb across your lip. “We can figure this out, okay? We can take this slow and figure it out together. I’ll stop heading to the club with the guys and be there for you in many other ways. Just know that I’m gonna support you no matter what, I’m not like everyone else. Fuck all of them.” He gives you a small, reassuring smile. “I’m sorry.” He repeats. You can’t help but lean into his hand and let out a shaky breath, kissing the palm of his hand before returning your gaze on him. His smile grows, making him plant an eager kiss on your forehead, to the tip of your nose.

Lips.

“Are we okay?” He whispers against your lips and you nod. “Can I have you then?” He whispers against your lips in between another kiss. “Make it up to you?” Another kiss. “Show you how I really feel?” You nod, giving San leverage to scoop you into his arms and carry you to your bed. He gently lays you down and is quick to shed off your clothes, admiring every inch of you. San tosses his glasses onto your nightstand before placing random trails of kisses along your body, kissing every scar, every curve, every tattoo; everything about you still continues to drive him crazy. Today, San takes his time. Though he’s eager to show you how you make him feel, he decides he’s gonna take his time with you. 

Even when he laps at your pussy, your clit, making you cum within minutes of being positioned in between your thighs.

Even when he rocks his hips into you— it’s a slow and steady pace, enough to make you feel every inch of him.

Even when he sits back onto his knees, letting you ride him.

His hands run up your sides while your hands are tangled in his hair, rolling your hips against him steadily, slowly, letting him feel every inch of you. He moans against your neck before placing wet kisses on the surface, hands now gripping tighter as he feels himself nearing his high. Everything is so intimate, so raw, so close— San can’t keep his lips off of you and hearing your moans bounce off of the walls adds to the pleasure. Your clit is rubbing deliciously against him, causing you to bite onto his bottom lip before tilting your head back in pleasure.

“Gonna cum, baby.” He groans in between open-mouthed kisses. “Be my good girl and cum with me.” You furrow your brows in pleasure, hands gripping his jaw as you continue to deeply kiss him, your climax heightening at your gut.

“Sannie.” You whine, unable to form any thoughts.

“You know how to fuck me so well. You’re perfect.” He hisses, the pleasure almost feeling too intense with how much he’s having to hold back. You start to rock your hips at a messier pace when you feel yourself climbing, moan loudly and gripping the ends of San’s hair when you finally come undone. He almost whines when he feels you twitch against him, hissing at how good you feel wrapped around him. San quickly lays you back and pounds into you, releasing his seed and painting your walls white. 

The both of you stay stationary for a second, panting and regulating your breathing once you’ve come back down from cloud nine. San brushes the hair away from your face and adoringly looks into your eyes, placing a kiss on your lips before slowly sliding himself out of you.

“Let’s get cleaned up.” He jogs over to your bathroom and turns on the shower, waiting for the water to reach a perfect temperature before grabbing you. 

While in the shower, San makes sure to lather your body with soap, giving your back and shoulders a good massage before rinsing off. You follow suit, giggling when you plop a few bubbles on his nose and cheeks. The best thing about the shower is that San doesn’t pressure you for more, no. He showers you with kisses, surely showing you just exactly what you mean to him through the action alone.

After the shower, you climb into bed with San, letting him take you into his arms while you turn on some music to softly fill the background. He gently strokes your hair, and hums along, keeping you close in his warm embrace.

“San.”

“Yeah?”

“You know what I want to do in the future?”

“What’s that?”

“I wanna own my own dance studio and teach. Help people grow their confidence and embrace their sexiness.” San chuckles. “You know? People get shy about these things or hide because they feel like they can’t dance or be sexy.”

“You’d be an amazing teacher for that.” You giggle.

“Hopefully one day.”

“We’ll make it happen. No matter how long it takes, hm?” He hums. “I got you.” You look up at San and stare at the galaxies he holds in those beautiful, brown orbs. What you did to deserve someone like San, you’ll never know— but you’ll take it as a gift from the universe; a gift that shows how proud the universe is of you for never giving up and for staying true to yourself.

For once, everything feels right. Everything seems to be where it should be. Everything in your life, as it is now, is what’s meant to be. And out of all the changes the universe has brought you, you’re at least thankful for this; for that moment San walked into the club, for the moment you took the first leap.

“You got me?” You tease and he nods.

“I got you.”

▹ taglist: @itsvxlentine @vantediary @certifiedmoa @asjkdk @bintificreads @frobin4ever @persphonesorchid

#san x reader #choi san x reader #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #san fanfic #choi san fanfic #choi san imagines #san imagines #choi san #san #ateez #ateez imagines #ateez smut #ateez angst #san smut #san angst #choi san angst #choi san smut #kpop imagines #hwaslayer: crimson

[randomshyperson]

Shameless - Milf!Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: The book club forces Wanda to go to a bookstore in downtown Westview, where she meets you. Or the one where Wanda tries a new hobby and finds a reason to end her marriage.

Warnings: (+16), some dirty implications but nothing explicit, mentions of make-out, no cheating (but intent), strangers to lovers, milf-horny wanda, compulsory heterosexuality and mentions of homophobia, an attempt at the 80s scene, some angst but a happy ending. | Words: 7.525k

A/N-> I don’t know where this came from.

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad

-&-

The book club had been Agatha's idea.

A harmless little pastime is how she would describe it during the weekly community meeting. Some short and simple speech about how modern housewives needed distractions while their husbands were at work and the kids were at school, anything that would please the ears of the preacher and the town council enough for the men to ignore the remnants of card games or bottles of alcohol that appeared whenever Agatha organized any “ladies' meetings” - as she liked to describe it.

Wanda and almost all the other women were happy to participate - and that is, almost all of them since Dorothy had not joined anything Agatha was involved in for two years now, ever since the blonde refused to visit the nightclub that was inaugurated downtown, commenting that it was not a suitable place for family ladies, and in Wanda's opinion, missing out on one of the most fun evenings she had ever had.

This time, Agatha's new invention was weekly meetings of a book club, which for the older woman, was the perfect excuse to get away from her husband Ralph and his strong odor of cheap beer and their grumpy son who apparently didn't know how to take glasses to the sink. Two hours a week to stay off chores and focus on her friends, and as a bonus, to read and discuss the literature she would have had access to if higher education was something women were encouraged to earn.

Wanda was one of the few in the quiet Westview who had a degree - It had been a shared dream of her and her mother Natalya, who wished to see both her children off to college and it was a fortunate thing that it happened before her sad passing. The most unfair thing about that was that despite her mother's wishes for Wanda’s independence, once Natalya was gone, all that Erik did was encourage her to leave college and look for a husband, the last of which Wanda eventually gave in to in her senior year. Jarvis Vision Stark was a couple of years older than her and was completing his degree in Engineering, and to almost everyone in her class, that had to be true love. He was a good-looking young man, with a good family and education, and he seemed so in love with her. With that in mind, Wanda tried to love Vision with the same intensity that he said he did, but with the passing of the years, and the arrival of the children, the fantasy dissolved into a boring routine and conformism.

Despite those issues, her twins, Billy and Tommy, were her most precious treasure. And they were also the only thing keeping her marriage on track, Wanda dared to think.

Getting a divorce, in the traditional Christian-Jewish community of Westview, would be a scandal under any circumstances. Sometimes, when she ventured to imagine being someone with this kind of courage, Wanda could only imagine the look of disappointment on her father's face when he heard the news, and the thought was soon shoved away like dirty clothes in the washing machine.

At least Wanda had Agatha. Her long-time, trusting friend, with whom she could share torments like this, and complain about slack-jawed, obstinate husbands.

And there was also now the book club.

Westview only had one library close to home, and well, Agatha had been clear in her instructions. No cheap or religious literature, she warned with a cigarette between her lips, gesturing with one hand when one of the girls asked about what the first meeting would be like. 

"Bring something interesting." Agatha suddenly gave a little smile, the same kind when she managed to bring a bottle of liquor hidden away for the Saturday church service. "Scandalous, if you dare."

They all sighed in surprise, complicit for the whole thing. Some began to whisper among themselves, but Wanda knew what she would have to do. There was nothing of the sort in Westview, so she would have to leave the residential neighborhood.

She woke up on Tuesday, dropped the kids off at school, and made breakfast. for Vision, who didn't even bother to say thank you, not happy to hear that Wanda was going out, but courteous enough to offer her a ride, which she declined almost immediately. She had the distinct impression that it was a way of being monitored, and she couldn't bear to deal with it when she was already so nervous. 

Taking the bus downtown, she went straight to the new commercial village of Westview. She caught a glimpse of some neighbors, who worked in the local shops but didn't say hello to any of them.

She walked until she found a bookstore, a small, old building with carts full of books at the door and advertisements that, although scattered and colorful, were easy to understand. It was a very cozy place, which made Wanda smile for a quick fantasy about having tried to work with books after her graduation if she hadn't been pregnant at the time.

A bell rang when she entered, but no one greeted her for the first few minutes she was inside. It gave her just enough time to go to one of the nearest bookshelves and run her fingers through the rows of books, a smile playing on her lips.

"Didn't you hear the door, Pchelka (little bee)?" A voice caught her attention, and Wanda turned, trying to see between the shelves. At a glance, short, red hair attracted her eye, and she blinked to find the face of a very pretty woman offering her a gentle smile. "One minute, sweetheart. We'll be right with you."

Wanda opened her mouth to say she wasn't in a hurry, sympathetic to the number of books the redhead was carrying, but in the next second, the woman disappeared between the columns and she didn’t have a chance to say anything at all. 

The bookstore remained empty and silent for another half minute, but once Wanda made mention of turning her attention back to the books behind her, a ladder opened from the ceiling, and out of it jumped a figure in an apron, and out of instinct, Wanda hopped away. 

"So sorry for the scare, Miss." You apologized with a soft chuckle at the scene, closing the attic in a single motion and running your hands through your hair and shoulders in an effort to blow off some of the dust. "We are reviewing the inventory. How can I be of assistance?"

Her breath caught in her throat at the image of your gentle and playful smile. She felt so foolish.  In all her 32 years, when was the last time she had been tongue-tied, if ever? 

You raised one of your eyebrows, and repeated the question, bringing a new color to her cheeks. Wanda broke into a clumsy giggle at the same second.

"Sorry, you caught me by surprise." She managed to cover it up, adjusting a lock of her hair and then moving her hands to smooth her clothes, suddenly unsure what to do with herself. "I’m…looking for a book."

You cracked another smile, finding the scene quite amusing. This older, breathtaking woman, all shy and adorable around you. "Well, we have lots of those." You teased, and Wanda felt her stomach do a complete turn at the sound of your raspy giggle. Maybe she was getting sick. Yeah, that would explain her body’s out-of-control reactions.   "What are you looking for, or perhaps a name...?"

"Wanda." She interrupts, and you frown in confusion. Taking a deep breath, she holds out her hand. "I am Wanda Maximoff."

Despite the strangeness of the moment and the fact that she didn't understand that you wanted the name of the book and not hers, you smiled warmly and repeated the gesture. Wanda has never hated work gloves as she does now, a curiosity burning to know what your skin would feel like on hers, the thought bringing such a strong color to her ears that she needs to look away immediately, barely catching the name that you mention next.

She clears her throat, and adds: "I'm actually joining a book club and the only guidance we had was to bring something interesting." And she risks looking you in the eye to add. "Scandalous."

You find it funny, even adorable if you could put it that way. Maybe it's because of the color of her face when she says it. Or maybe it's because these college students - Wanda judges you to be one for your apparent age - are more modern than she would have been and don't bother with this sort of subject.

"Hm, I think I can help with that." You retort with a thoughtful expression, beckoning for Wanda to follow you deeper into the store and she does so only after taking a deep breath.

The columns of poetry make her bite her lip in curiosity, some of the names Wanda recognizes from her own years as a student, but it is only when you are in the last aisle with the little gold plaque labeled "Sapphic Literature" that Wanda thinks she has stopped breathing.

You do everything very calmly. Climbing up one of the stairs, and taking some time to read the titles, you take a small book from one of the higher shelves and walk back to Wanda, whose face is almost Natasha's hair color now.

With a smile, you hold out the book, but don't let go, holding the item as she does. 

"There's nothing more scandalous than this for a small town like Westview." You say. "But if it's too much, Miss Maximoff, I can always suggest something different. You know, like stuff about the first war or Russian philosophy..."

"N-no, this is fine." She interrupts you, grabbing the book strongly and pulling it close to her chest. You don't know if she's trying to hide it or keep it from fleeing, but it makes you chuckle. "Thanks for the help."

"No problem." You reply, studying that face for a moment. Wanda swallows dry but holds your gaze. You clear your throat as soon as you realize you're staring. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

She almost sighs, her knees going weak at just the line her thoughts take. Shaking her head, she offers you a small smile. "No, that will be all." She says and practically runs off to the edge of the store, back to the cashier.

The redheaded woman is taking care of the payment now, and Wanda doesn't notice the look you exchange with her because she's too busy sensing your presence coming behind her.

"Excuse me, Miss Maximoff, let me wrap this up for you." Your whisper near her ear makes her shudder from head to toe, and it is fortunate that you grab the book from her as Wanda is sure she would have dropped it on the floor.

You walking away is the only reason Wanda's legs stop shaking.

"Good choice, ma'am." Commented the attendant as soon as you put the book on the counter to be scanned. Wanda noticed the small badge spelled out in silver letters "Natasha" stuck to her apron. "We are also fond of sapphic literature around here." She added with a complicit smile.  Wanda didn't understand why it seemed like a code for something, she was too distracted by the movements of your hands storing the book in a pretty bag. She remembers forcing a smile, paying with trembling fingers and practically running out of the bookstore, feeling your gaze burning into her back.

The bell made another noise on the way out, and with the bookstore empty, Natasha's laughter filled the air.

"How do you always find our people?" Questioned the other impressed, but you laughed short, shrugging.

"I won't deny that I have this ability, but in this case, how can you say? You saw her for like, three seconds."

Natasha shook her head, checking the cashier. "Oh, please, she was eye-fucking you this whole three seconds.” Declared the redhead, ignoring your protest at her choice of words. "Besides, it's kind of obvious by her not freaking out over sapphic poetry, isn't it?"

You sigh, somewhat disbelieving. "I don't know, people are more friendly nowadays." You try, but Natasha gestures away as if she doesn't agree.

"Your problem is that you're too naive, Parker." Retorted the redhead with an amused expression. "Women like me, experienced not old, are not so friendly. We come from different times, different generations. You couldn't go around reading gay literature anywhere, hardly found any to be fair. If she wasn't like us, she would have caused a scene at the mere suggestion."

"Alright, Romanoff, I believe you." You grumbled begrudgingly while grabbing one of the last boxes to be checked off the desk. "But that doesn't mean she was interested in me." You stated, but Nat snorted incredulously.

"I bet you five bucks she'll be back next week!" Retorted the redhead, but you only chuckled, letting her increase the bet as the distance grew.

-&-

A tense silence grew with every second in the crowded room. 

Wanda sat there, almost not breathing until she finally realized what she had just done. Read. The room began to spin next. She gripped the pages hard enough to wreck the book in her lap, but just as panic was about to overwhelm her, someone sighed loudly.

"Well, that was definitely scandalous." It was Monica, and the good humor of the comment made the room explode into little giggles.

The girls began commenting among themselves excitedly in the same second, some still somewhat hesitant and embarrassed, but definitely thrilled about the whole thing. Wanda felt a gentle hand on the back of her back, through the exposed part of the plastic chair.

"Just breathe, Wanda, everything's fine." It was Agatha, who was still sitting next to her. Who didn't hate her for reading a passage from Emily Dickinson in the middle of the book club, who was still her best friend. Wanda only managed to mumble a weak, whiny yes, and Agatha looked at her with concern before announcing to the entire room that they would take a break before the next reading. Wanda doesn't remember getting up, but she didn't breathe normally again until on the outside balcony of the Harkness Residence. "Here, honey."

The glass of water helped, and Wanda had just returned it to Agatha when the window door opened again. It was Monica, with an almost proud smile, who spoke only after sliding the glass door closed again.

"I have to say, Wanda, you have guts." Her friend joked, and Wanda grimaced.

"What...?"

"I didn't know there were more of us in Westview, Aggie. You could have told me." Monica complained to the older woman, giving Agatha's arm a gentle pat. But the woman just smiled awkwardly, looking at Wanda as if she were seeing her for the first time.

"She never mentioned it, I'm afraid." Agatha commented, and Wanda felt like she might throw up at any moment. "Hey, breathe honey. It's okay, all right? You're safe with us."

But Wanda put a hand over her chest, feeling it tighten. "My god, what I just did... They will tell my husband... my father will hear about it-"

"Hey, Wanda, here. Focus on me, darling, breathe." Agatha grabbed her hands, trying to help her control the panic and tears that began to roll down her face. "Honey, it was just a poem. Nothing is going to happen, okay, you just brought what I asked for, and none of them minded. Nothing has changed, now breathe. You're safe, Wanda."

“Of course, I would ruin the book club.” was the first thought she had hours later when she woke up before the time to pick the boys up from soccer. She didn't have to do it though - Agatha left a little note saying that she had taken care of everything and wished her rest. 

Monica drove her home so that Agatha could close the meeting without raising any more suspicions about Maximoff's state, who had had a panic attack because of a poem read aloud. If the other neighbors knew, it would create chatter, and Wanda simply couldn't handle that.

Monica left her safe and sound in her house, wrapped in blankets, and didn't mind staying until Wanda cried herself to sleep. And Wanda woke up alone, feeling worse than before as if a very embarrassing secret had been revealed to the world and was mocking her outside the bedroom walls.

But her children were back in no time, and as they rushed to the shower, she went to thank a very concerned Agatha Harkness.

"Are you feeling better, sweetheart?" Asked her friend gently holding her arm. Wanda didn't meet her eyes, nodding.

"Thank you for dropping the boys off." Murmured her quietly, swallowing before adding. "And for earlier. I didn't mean to bring any trouble."

Agatha gripped her with more determination. "Listen here, Wanda, it was no trouble at all, okay?" Assured the woman, who although in a serious tone, still had very gentle eyes. "You are my best friend, Wanda Maximoff. Nothing will ever change the care and love I feel for you. When you're ready to talk about today, about this part of you, I'll be here. And Monica too. You are not alone, honey. You never have been." There was a different complicity in the last sentence, but Wanda only sighed in relief, nodding and finally relaxing when Agatha hugged her.

She thanked her again between silent tears and Agatha only left when she was sure Wanda believed her words.

-&-

It took Wanda three weeks to return to the store. Not that you were counting, or thinking every day about the middle-aged woman who had a gay panic attack with your poor attempt at service. Not that Natasha didn't shut up about it.

And as luck would have it, you were alone in the store because your boss, who you also called a friend, was out picking up some orders and her sister at the University of New York, and well, it had been a slow day until the doorbell rang in the early afternoon and it was Wanda.

"You again." That was the first you managed to say, almost sighing and hating how affected it sounded. Luckily, Wanda seemed equally happy and relieved to see you again.

"Hello." She greeted, repeating last week's gesture of adjusting a lock of her hair. She looked different from before, more elegant, with a dark jeans jacket expensive enough to have come out of a magazine, and a dress underneath that made you swallow dry. 

You had no idea how long she spent in front of the mirror trying to choose the right outfit with two neighbors weighing her choices.

Trying to play it cool and sound as casual as possible, you add:  "Wanda Maximoff from the book club, right? Did they like the poems?"

She hesitated in a nervous smile, looking around as if to check if there were no other customers and satisfied with the distant presence of a boy in the Vinyl's Discs area and a lady further down the hall, as she practically whispered, "You were right. It was scandalous enough for Westview." She teased, managing to get a short laugh out of you that made her stomach do flips and her cheeks turn a rosy hue. It was decided, she wanted to hear the sound again and would do anything to be the one to make you laugh.

"Well, I'm glad to hear that." You retort with a little smile. "I hope you enjoyed the book too, though." Your addiction makes Wanda's heart skip a beat. So you cared if she was the person who enjoyed the reading, it wasn't all about a professional suggestion on how to make an impact on the book club as she presumed. Well, Agatha was right. 

Risking, probably everything, Wanda commented: "Oh, I definitely loved the reading. I had a good time imagining the scenarios she described." Despite the confidence in saying it, she was blushing, and the way she spoke as if a secret between the two of you and with your knowledge of how erotic Emily Dickinson's stories were, was the reason you knock over half the stack of books you were trying to organize onto the floor.

The noise attracted the attention of the other customers, but you forced a smile and gestured that everything was fine before you ducked down, quickly beginning to pick everything up while Wanda looked at you with a certain amusement, as if she had just confirmed a theory.

"Sorry. You caught me off guard." You mutter in embarrassment, and Wanda chuckles, ducking down as well. She helps you with the last of the fallen books, and in the gesture of returning them, your hands rub together and the whole world stops for a second.  Just long enough for you to look at her, and then to step away at once, clearing your throat. Wanda does the same, and before you have a chance to say anything, the record customer interrupts you.

It has to be the most annoying sale you've ever made. He stalls you for long minutes, and all you can do is watch out of the corner of your eye as Wanda slips further into the back of the bookstore, and you lose sight of her. To make matters worse, when the man finally leaves, familiar vehicle parks in the back of the store, and less than five minutes later, two figures with heavy boxes appear.

Yelena has gotten a haircut, and you have a moment of shock to deal with that. The next, she is making a terrible impression on the other customer in the store, the cookbook lady, who immediately grimaces as soon as your friend practically jumps on you. Whether it's the display of affection or Yelena's tattoos and rebellious posture, the woman leaves the store muttering lowly. 

You pay no attention to this, grinning as you match Yelena's hug before she lets go of you.

"сука, next time you lock up the semester, at least stop at the dorm to smoke with us!" Complained your friend as she leaned on the counter where she had left her magazine supply box. Natasha dropped hers with a tired grunt, and once the books were secured, she gave a warning slap on the feet that Yelena threatened to put on a shelf. 

"There won't be a next time." Natasha answers for you. "She's giving up for good."

Yelena lets out an exclamation, but you grimace. "That hasn't been decided, Romanoff." You defend yourself. "I just needed more time. I think I'll just switch vocations. Again."

Natasha giggled, but Yelena patted you on the shoulder. "Hey, don't look so down. I also think about quitting Fashion every week, and every week I remind myself that no one is as talented as Yelena Belova and the world must not be deprived of my masterpieces." The comment makes you and Natasha laugh and roll your eyes. 

The redhead pushes her sister by the shoulders away from the counter. "You said you came here to work, not get in Parker's way. Find something to do-"

"Oh, sure, I'll get us some coffee." Yelena interrupts, letting go of her sister's hands. She points a finger at you. "Cappucino or-"

"Sorry." Wanda's interruption makes the three of you look at her at once. She is intimidated, but only for a split second. Forcing a smile, she raises the book she holds at face height. "I was hoping to take this one."

You take an awkward step forward, and it is enough for Yelena to acquire an expression as if she just has won the lottery. Busy taking care of Wanda's purchase, you don't even notice the sisters' exchange of glances.

As you wrap up the book, you try to disguise the trembling in your hands. 

"I couldn't really thank you for the recommendation." Wanda speaks suddenly. You smile awkwardly, holding out the bag with the book on the counter.

"It was no trouble at all, Wanda." But she extends her hand over yours, and your heart stops.

"I really appreciated it, sweetheart." That's what Wanda says, stroking your skin with her thumb. "We have meetings every week, and maybe, you could join us in the next…"

You opened your mouth like a fish, babbling like a fool and completely in shock at the invitation of the most beautiful woman you have ever seen in your life. “I-I…”

"Would love to, of course." Yelena elbowed you so hard that you pulled your hand away from Wanda’s to massage the spot. She offered her worst-intention smile to Wanda, the kind she only used at college parties when she wanted guys who would never have a chance with her to buy her drinks. "She's a first-rate nerd, she'll love it, ma'am. I’m Yelena, by the way. My sister, Natasha, is the owner here. And since we’re talking about hanging out, did you know that we do friends' reunions around here? You're more than welcome to join us."

Wanda adjusts awkwardly, a little surprised. "Oh, what kind of reunion?"

Yelena sighs thoughtfully, shrugging. "Well, I don't want to call it a college party, because even though we're all college students, it's not done on NYU grounds and is reserved for fewer people and the drinking is much better..."

Chuckling short, and adjusting the bag on her wrist, Wanda denies it with her head. "It's a kind invitation, but I think I'm too old for such things."

"What nonsense!" Yelena retorts gesturing indignantly. “ "With all due respect, such a beautiful woman will completely enhance the party. And well, my sister always attends with her friends, and you must be the same age..." You bite the inside of your cheek hard, you love your friend but she is charming and beautiful and is clearly flirting with Wanda to annoy you. Wanda blushes, and Yelena knows she's won this one. Emerald eyes search yours, and you find that the one who might have won is actually you.

"Will you be there?" She asks, and having trouble hiding a smile, you nod. With a sigh, Wanda looks at the expectant blonde beside you. "I think I could show up for a little bit-"

"That's fantastic!" Yelena gets excited, not even waiting for Wanda to confirm before she ducks down on the counter and finds one of the invitations to these parties that Natasha hides near the cashier. 

You barely had a chance to say goodbye to Wanda, with Yelena and her party directions, but at least you had confirmation that the woman would be there for the last weekend of the month, the typical date when those meetings were organized. And the realization had you sliding to the floor behind the counter with one hand on your chest.

"My god I think I'm having an anxiety attack-"

"No, that's a gay outburst triggered by a hot milf." Yelena cut in with a roll of her eyes, crossing her arms as she approached you again. "You gonna have to put it together, 'cause we need to pick out what you're going to wear next week, on your hot date with her.”

You're as red as a tomato. "It's not a date! It's a book club!"

Natasha - who hadn't said anything about the interaction until now - burst out laughing, and teased "Hm, that's what young people are calling it these days."

"You two are terrible." You complained embarrassed, shaking your head in disbelief at the giggling sisters. "We don't even know if she's interested."

Natasha chuckled. "Of course she is. Sapphic poetry the first week, and now she comes back just to stroke your hand. Yes, Parker, everyone saw that. If that's not interest, I don't know what else to call it."

Sighing in defeat at the sisters' complicit gaze, you stood up again. "Let me get back to work." You grumbled, but still, Yelena followed you with thousands of ideas about what you could wear.

-&-

Book club sessions allow you to get to know Wanda better. And inevitably fall in love with her as you never had with anyone else, at least not at that intensity.

Unfortunately, a meeting full of middle-aged women with a certain willingness to gossip about any subject, especially the unusual friendship of the young college student from downtown with one of the most respectable ladies in the neighborhood put practically a watch on your back. All your moments with Wanda, stolen touches and long glances between snacks and reading verses for the next few weeks came burdened with the worry, especially for her, that the rest of the world could see all too well what was going on between you two. 

And there was also the great frustration that in fact, nothing was actually happening. Aside from the undeniable attraction and warm affection you developed for each other, you were just book club buddies. You couldn't even call Wanda a friend, in fact, you wouldn't want to. All you knew about her family was Agatha or Monica telling you, the other was limited to any other subject but this one. 

Pretending not to know or just accepting that Wanda had a life beyond the safety of your afternoons together hurt all the same.

Your only hope of progress for what was happening came at the end of the month, with the arrival of the reunion date between your friends. It was the most intimate event Wanda could attend and you had a feeling there would be no going back for whatever might happen that night.

The Thunderbolts was what the group of friends you and Yelena were part of called themselves since the beginning of college. And unlike Peter and Kate, or even the freshmen, America and Kamala, who were all set on what profession they would follow after graduation, you had already dropped three courses in total. Starting out in medical school as your parents would have liked, switching to applied biology with Peter until you tried computer science with America, you finally dropped out to work with books with Natasha. It was the closest thing to happiness, even if it meant lousy pay. 

But ignoring this, what was certain about you and the Thunderbolts was that you guys knew how to throw a decent party. 

The loud music didn't escape much from the top floor of the store because two years ago Natasha had gotten glassware with sound isolation for the rehearsals of the Red Skulls - her ex-girlfriend Carol Danvers' rock band - that kept neighbors from calling the police.

The drinking was taken care of by Natasha's friends, and well, it was always good stuff. There was also plenty of food and lots of weed, grown naturally in T'Challa's private greenhouses.

It was a college party, there was no denying it, but still, you went up to the roof, waiting for a woman twice your age who had a wedding ring mark on her finger.

Wanda almost didn't show up, and when she did, she was accompanied by a very beautiful woman. 

Natasha also had a thing for older women and was half drunk, a dangerous combination. Since Wanda was your flirt, the Romanoff wasted no time in approaching the other one, who introduced herself as Agatha Harkness and was more than happy to accompany the redhead on her tour of the studio apartment that made up the second and third floors of the bookstore.

You were trying to remain calm and mannerly around Wanda, but it was almost impossible not to become a mess when she was absurdly gorgeous in her half-open social shirt, smelling fucking good from yards away. 

As the night wore on and you both struggled to stay included in conversations with other people you knew - from Steve and his military school stories to Kate and her hilarious jokes - you began to wonder whether you were getting drunk on beer or on Wanda's perfume in your senses.

Fleeing back to the roof in the hopes of getting some air, you were about to consider leaving the party when Wanda found you again.

"I lost you for a second down there." She commented as she approached, hugging her body to the cold night around you. Your natural instinct would be to take off your jacket, but it suddenly seemed too intimate.

"Now you've found me." You returned with a small smile, glancing at her when she got close enough, only to find that she was already looking at you.

Swallowing dryly, you grew shy about her intense gaze and shifted to the hands she was smoothing on the ledge beside you. Wanda just stood there, close enough to touch until she leaned in a little to whisper.

"Did I do something to upset you? You're hiding from me."

Closing your eyes for a moment, you sighed before risking a look at her. "Agatha told me about your marriage." You state sincerely, and Wanda swallows dryly. "I'm not stupid, and I'm no good with games either. There's a husband, so I just won’t get involved. I'll only get hurt-"

"I'm very attracted to you." Wanda cut in, also decreasing the distance between your faces. Your heart simply stops and your breath catches. If she kissed you now, you'd probably say thank you. With a sigh, Wanda brings a hand to the collar of your shirt, pushing you away gently as a warning to herself. "She didn't lie. Agatha. I have a family, children, and a husband."

It was like a bucket of cold water on your head. But Wanda didn't let you move, keeping her grip on your shirt, and this was probably the only thing holding your tears too.

"I haven't stopped thinking about you since we met." She continues to confess as affected as you are, her green eyes desperate and hopeful. "I haven't felt this way in such a long time..."

But you choked, pulling away. "I don't want to be some game, Wanda. Some secret. And I hate to share-"

"Oh, darling we're so alike." She interrupted a short, possessive chuckle, grabbing your wrist and putting your arm around her before you could move further. The attraction was almost liquid over your limbs, pulling you towards her and you gasped, pressing your face into her collarbone before you lost control for good and take her for yourself in this roof, damn the consequences. "I thought your friend Yelena was more. My skin itched at the thought of her touching you, I almost came back here and burned the entire bookstore." She confessed in your ear as she slipped her arm around your shoulders to hug you. The intense embrace increased your heart rate, and it didn't help that Wanda was playing with the lobe of your ear between her teeth.

"Stop saying things like that or I just might..."

"What? Tell me what you’ll do with me." Wanda challenges equally affected and you lose it, digging your teeth into her collarbone and sucking hard. She whimpers, knees buckling as her hips thrust up towards yours, but all you do is force her back against the edge, your firm hands on her waist keeping her from gridding herself on you as she wants to.

"I could fuck you right here, Wanda. Send you home smelling of dirty sex." You assure her darkly, your hands playing dangerously on the limits of her blouse. All Wanda does is groan rusky in your ear, wishing you would do as you say. “I bet you’ve waiting for me to.”

The smug phrase almost takes her sanity completely: Wanda grunts needily, trying to grab your wrist and force your hand between her legs, but you pull away hard, leaving her a slack mess trying to balance on wobbly legs with the help of the wall.

"I won’t be your mistress, Wanda Maximoff." You warn hoarsely, yet determined. You adjust your messy hair. "Sorry, but this little game of ours ends tonight."

Wanda hesitates, biting her lip. You hold up your hands, to point at the ring finger, reminding her of her condition and in a way, mocking her as well. Wanda hates the way she feels herself throb between her legs because of your smirk. 

She thinks she would have gone after you if Agatha hadn't appeared on the roof, reminding her with a certain irony that it was time for “respectable ladies” to go home.

In the car, her friend noticed her quiet, sulky posture.

"Did that girl say anything to spoil your evening, dear?" Harkness asked in a mixture of curiosity and concern, and all Wanda could do was let out a wry laugh, one hand adjusting her hair.

"No, Aggie." Wanda retorted sincerely. "I'm more sure than before about what I told you last week."

Agatha hummed in understanding, remaining silent for a long moment of thought. As she passed a sign toward the residential neighborhood of Westview, she spoke:

"I know a lawyer. Miss Walters. Divorce specialist." She began, ignoring the tense posture the other had acquired. “Former family friend, who always said that if I called, she would give me a special discount. Ralph owns the house, so splitting from him would have meant goodbye to Westview, and well, he never bothered me enough to lose you."

Wanda's eyes widen as she understands what her friend is saying, and she stares at her with tears in her eyes. But Agatha smiles through the mirror reflection, shrugging.

"Nicholas may be a difficult boy, but he also deserved to have a mother around." She continues. "And we have fun, you and me and the girls, don't we darling?"

Wanda agrees tearfully, nodding. Agatha chuckles, making the last turn and the landscape becomes several little houses alike.

"Just make a decision while you have time, dear." She continues a bit more hurriedly, stealing glances at the houses that still have lights on. "That beautiful woman today, Natasha, reminded me of a youth I sacrificed. I am old, Wanda. Affairs are fun, but I no longer have time to start a life with someone I really care about. You do, and you don't even have to. You have a chance to be with someone you really feel passionate about, if only for a week."

Agatha parked the car, and the porch light came on. Vision was waiting for her at the door, a half-stern expression due to the exit he didn't agree with - An unusual pastime for a family lady, they had discussed before she left.

With a sigh, she said goodbye to Agatha and got out of the car. Jennifer Walters' phone card was in her pants pocket.

It could take four to five weeks of staring at the bookstore doorbell to finally see the face you wanted to see enter that bookstore. You would be surprised enough that Wanda looked even more beautiful since the last time you saw her, and that this almost made you lose your balance on the ladder you had climbed to organize books on the top shelf.

This time Wanda would ask for a book in the law section, just for the entertainment of studying your reaction when, after demanding that you wait for her to find what she was looking for, she would press a book on divorce against your chest. Wanda would have just over five seconds for you to understand what she was getting at, before she was pressed into the shelf and grabbed by the thighs to be lifted into the air, your mouth glued to hers and her legs locked around you.

The messiest, hottest make-out session she never had as a teenager, but it would make her feel like one again. Hands determined and curious as your tongue ripped out sounds inappropriate for a bookstore, until the bell rang again, and you had to part in gasping breaths.

Wanda would grab your shirt collar before you could go to meet the customer in the lobby to ask you out on a date. On the first date, you could talk about her children, about how the joint custody was going to work out, and how much time you would have to get to know each other. On the second you could go out to eat, and on the third Wanda would feel your fingers on the back seat of the car on the drive home.

Wanda imagined all this on the way, twisting the lawyer's paper between her fingers. 

"Welcome home, Wanda." Vision greeted her, giving her room to enter. Wanda forces a smile, as she removes her hand from her pocket to pass her arm around her spouse for what would probably be the last hug she would give him as his wife. “Did you have fun?”

“I did.”

-&-

It's your night shift.

Natasha has a habit of closing early on weekdays, with the exception of Fridays where she allows reading shifts for all the sleepless geeks, as she calls all the late readers who come to the bookstore after six in the evening.

The day has been quiet so far, and well, you've been too depressed for the past weeks since you decided to move on and get over Wanda Maximoff.

So of course when the bell rings and you lift your eyes from a superhero comic, it's her at the door.

A weary sigh escapes you at the almost apologetic expression of the woman fidgeting with her scarf, and without giving her some other reaction, you lower your eyes again.

"Good evening, Y/N." She greets politely, her voice hoarse.

Turning the page, as if actually reading the words crammed in front of you, you retort, " We're closing soon, so make it quick."

A smile plays on her lips at your response. "Well, I guess that'll be up to you." She retorts, and you frown in confusion, looking up only to watch Wanda turn the sign from open to closed, and lock the door.

You feel your face warm from the lust glint her eyes acquire, but you manage to raise an eyebrow.

"Don't tell me you came all this way to murder me."

She chuckles playfully, approaching at a slow pace while her hands work to remove her coat and leave it on top of one of the endless stacks of books in the reception area. "Is the place empty?"

You bite your lip as she puts on a show to remove her gloves, almost losing the train of thought. "Not really." You mumble, catching the other woman's brief disappointment and hesitation. Closing the comics in your lap to store them under the counter, you clear your throat. "There's an employee area behind this door." You let her know in a husky tone, and Wanda glances behind your shoulder for a moment before stepping around the counter. 

You hold your breath at having her so close now, but she doesn't break the short distance between your faces, leaning in to touch the doorknob. You take a deep breath, and her free hand seeks yours in your lap.

She entwines your fingers together and it takes you a full moment to notice the ring missing in hers. Wanda smiles when she realizes you understand.

"I signed the papers this morning." She whispers it as a secret between you, stroking the back of your hand with her thumb and enjoying the way your skin feels warm. "I was going to write, to let you know, but I decided I wanted you to have me entirely."

You swallow dry, shuddering at the confession. "Oh, that's... nice to know." It's all you manage for the moment, surprised you can still hear her speak when your heart is so loud in your own ear drums. Wanda bites back a mischievous smile and opens the door.

"Come, you can show me how much you appreciate my fairness."

You feel your face burn and grunt in embarrassment. "You're so full of yourself." You mumble, not resisting the tug she gives to get you inside. 

Barely inside when the door closes behind you, your back hits the wood and desperate hands tug your uniform jacket open. Wanda's gasping breaths mingle with yours as she kisses you roughly. 

Her hands work at your belt, but you slow the frantic pace to something so intense and intimate that Wanda melts against you, a moment later green eyes staring up at you tearfully.

"I didn't lie." You begin to explain hoarsely. "There are three customers in the café. They'll notice if we... There's no rush, Wanda." You smile at her tenderly, your hands on her cheeks. "Have dinner with me tonight. You can walk me home."

Her eyes sparkle with happiness, and Wanda nods in agreement, kissing you as a promise. One she will never be ashamed to fulfill, doesn't matter if not even the law allows it.

#elizabeth olsen x reader #marvel imagines #wanda maximoff oneshots #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader

[creedslove]

MAKING OUT WITH THE BRIDE'S FATHER - JOEL MILLER HEADCANONS ✨

No outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

A/N: the reason why I love Pedro so much is that he always makes me feel alive no matter how bad the situation is 💟

A/N #2: besties I'm so sorry about this Headcanon, I know it's sooooo bad, but I had the idea several weeks ago I think I don't really remember and I've been writing a little bit every day since but I went through a lot in a short time and I lost inspiration but at the same time it was really bothering me to see it lying in my drafts unfinished, I'm sorry it sucks, but I love you all 💕

• you met Sarah Miller when she was only a freshman girl, completely lost in her first day of college after she was dropped off and looking like a scared little deer even if she tried assuring you she was alright

• you were a few years older than her and you'd been there, so you pretended to believe she was alright but still offered her some help to get her dorm organized and simply find herself around campus; she quickly accepted it and that was how your friendship had started

• during the semester, you became one of Sarah's best friends; as you were always there to help her out, advise her or simply offer her some company or comfort the days she felt lonely and missed her family too much - you knew she didn't know her mom and she was raised by her dad and her uncle which you thought it was pretty awesome of them, but other than that, you didn't actually hear much about them, as you both often talked about other stuff

• and so the years passed and soon enough Sarah was graduating and marrying her college sweetheart, Ben, who'd been introduced to her by you during a party, so it was more than exciting to be invited to that beautiful party

• so you packed your bags, got yourself a decent place on Airbnb and went to Austin, to celebrate the wedding of your beloved friend, due to conflicting schedules, you could only get there a few days before the wedding, which ruined your plans of meeting Sarah's family, having dinner together and getting to the city, since the most you were able to do was just handle the last adjustment and details for your dress, help Sarah with the arrangements for the party and of course, party hard in her bachelorette party

• the bachelorette party was partially organized by you, as you never really knew how those things were supposed to go, other than just the scenes you saw in several movies, should you go to a male strip club? Should there be men half naked rubbing themselves against you and your friends? You weren't so sure, so you talked to Sarah and you picked a nice nightclub to dance and drink

• so you and your group of friends hit the club, all in your best clothes, nice heels and Sarah wearing a cute little party veil so everyone would know she was the bride to be. The night was perfect and you danced and drank as much as you wanted, knowing you could just call yourself a Uber to go home

• you stayed until the end of the party, your group of friends had all left home in different Uber rides and Sarah was picked up by Ben just some moments ago, so you grabbed your purse, paid for your part of your check and went to the parking lot, since your uber wouldn't take much to get there

• and that was when you saw him: easily the most handsome man you'd ever seen, older than you of course, tall, broad, brown hair salt and peppered and leaning against his truck. He seemed to be waiting for someone, but his attention was immediately shifted towards you, and he couldn't pay attention to anything else

• you just caught Joel's attention as you walked out of that bar; you didn't seem drunk or wasted, but definitely a little tipsy and while he wasn't a creep - Sarah had accidentally called him and asked him to pick her up and there was no way in the world he wouldn't come for his little girl, even if she wasn't little anymore and was going to be a married girl in a couple of days

• and even when she explained to her dad that she didn't mean to call him and he didn't need to pick her up because she was already going home with Ben - clearly drunk, which bothered Joel but he couldn't actually do anything about it - he said he was just going back to sleep, omitting the fact he was already at the parking lot waiting for her. She wasn't a child anymore, but he really missed when she was one because then, she would still be his sweet little Sarah wearing her cute star PJs to bed, and not exiting the club completely drunk like she did a while ago

• but all that whining went away in the blink of an eye once Joel spotted you, because he couldn't recall seeing a better looking woman at a bar in so fucking long, that or it was because he hadn't gotten laid in so long, his balls might've been blue but he wasn't just gonna empty them on the first woman he saw, so he just kept using his hand for it

• but you... He swallowed hard and decided to take a few steps towards you, after all, it wouldn't hurt just to make sure you were doing okay and no creeps were bothering you, because he wasn't a creep, he just wanted to make sure you were alright

• and when you saw Joel walking towards you, you felt your breath caught in your chest. He was so freaking handsome, big and manly, the kind of man to put you on all fours and fuck you while he whispers into your ear what a good girl for him you really are

• and you didn't remember much of your interaction with him, when you realized what you were doing, you were pressed against the hood of his truck, kissing him hungrily while his strong hands squeezed your body and roamed all over you; your hands messing up with his curls, tugging at them slightly as you moaned into his mouth, against better judgement you could let yourself be fucked by him at that moment

• however, you didn't even know his name, it was a dangerous game your body begged you to play, but your rational side was still too alert for it, so when you managed to see your Uber had arrived, you found strength in yourself to get rid of his intoxicating touch in your body and simply run to the car, you should've asked his name, but you didn't

• and the following days after that night at the bar, as much as you tried thinking of something else, all you could focus on, was that handsome man and the way he held you, he gripped your body and kissed you; it was different from any kind of touch you'd experienced, that mysterious man seemed addictive to you

• but as the wedding approached, your lustful thoughts had to be placed aside so you could focus on all the tasks you had to do: help Sarah get ready, check the venue for her and so on, not to mention getting ready yourself for the event, being so busy you totally skipped the part where you'd meet her family

• as you waited in church for her with the rest of your friends, you couldn't help but being extremely shocked to see Sarah walking down the aisle by her father, whom you had never actually seen before that night at the bar, but he happened to be your mysterious fling from the parking lot

• Joel also couldn't believe the hot girl he'd made out with was his daughter's best friend, he knew he was older than you even if you both hadn't much time to talk, but he didn't expect that

• you two had to stop those feelings aside so you could focus on the ceremony, but the way Joel kept glancing at you, made it pretty obvious you'd have a very interesting wedding reception afterwards 😉

____

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal headcanon #pedro pascal headcanons #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller headcanon #joel miller headcanons

[melanthaeunomia]

hiii! i’m new to this blog but i see you’ve got a free week (SO jealous) so i was wonderinggg if you’d be willing to do a leo x fem reader where they’re on a quest/mission or something undercover and have to make out to keep their cover? sorta like that one b99 scene with jake and amy ig😅

"Just to blend in?" -Leo Valdez x Reader (Friends to Lovers?)

A/N ❧ Hi dear!, thank you so much for your request, to be honest i was kinda procrastinating a bit on writing this but! i just got new nails so i felt the motivation kick in y'know, so sorry if this is a bit late, I like the concept!, but the scene is not really like the B99 cause i thought this would suit the undercover quest more but its sort of the same concept!. Synopsis ❧ You were tasked to accompany Leo on a quest, and it turns rather south despite trying to keep things professional... Warning ❧ Mentions of underage drinking, Kissing Word count ❧ 1.7k+

Riordan verse Masterlist

You groaned rolling your head back as the aggravating and irritating music hit your ears, an ogre was playing make believe DJ, you can hear its gruesome nails scratching on the pad. You accompanied Leo on a quest to locate an enchanted item used in antient time to help Forge weapon and armors, Both of you settled in the corner of the night club, You leaned back on one of those wrapped cocktail tables, trying to cover Leo behind you, who was working on a machine in order to locate the said item. "Where in the hell did you get these clothes!" You whined tugging on your unnecessary revealing clothes, "Hey!, It took a lot of energy to charm the store lady, Besides, We're in a nightclub atleast we blend in."

He rolled his eyes wiping the sweat building on his forehead with the sleeves of his suit, You scoffed, gaze following a few monsters who danced around with the pitiful drunken humans, Particularly on one Laistrygonian Giant who hovered over a woman his hands dropped down to grip the womans hip, licking his lips with hunger in his eyes You wondered what the humans were seeing, Are the Monsters hot with the mist? (wait we're getting off topic). You nudge leo "Are you done?" You hummed, turning back to face him "Hm?, not yet, just needs a few changes" He fiddled around with the wires on the machine, You turned your head back, Blood turning blue when you noticed the Laistrygonian was looking right back at you as its sharp teeth bit into the drunken woman's neck who was squirming around, everyone around them continued dancing as if it was a normal thing, Your eyes widened as The giant glared at you, and looked at the DJ with a nod

"Leo, Leo!, Hurry up, I think-" You tapped leo's shoulder aggressively keeping an eyecontact with the Giant, "Hold on!, I'm Don-" The music became louder, Covering the stomps of the giant walking over to the both of you with furrowed brows. You hurriedly grabbed leo's sleeve, dragging him away making him stumble over a few people "Hey!" a drunk dude grumbled "Sorry!" leo screeched, You dragged leo over to a corridor which was fortunately empty, The both of you panting "You almost made me drop the machine!" He groaned settling down on the floor breathing heavily, “yeah?, would you rather to have died?” You gently hit him in the head “that was unnecessary” a overly dramatic pout covered his face “yes but it was well deserved.” You rolled your eyes snatching the metal device from his hand, a red blinking button on it "Its somewhere here" He hovered behind you, "I know idiot, Look out for monsters" You waved the machine out in the air to try and get the blinking to stop, "You're doing it wrong!" Leo tried to snatch it away from you "I know how to do-" The both of you fought over who gets to use the machine arms intertwined as he kept trying to snatch it back, Until both of your attention was grabbed by the Giant who was all the way at the end of the corridor "Warning, Tall angry dude is coming here!!" "Thanks for stating the obvious, idiot!!" then the Red button finally settled when the giant was just about to strike "Follow me!" You ran towards the door where the machine was pointing to, leo followed "Lock it hurry!" A loud thud could be heard from outside and the giant muttering to themselves "Where do we go now?" leo asked, inside the room were tons of doors, You waved the machine trying to get signal, a loud tugging on the previous door behind could be heard "Just hide!" You grabbed him shoving him in a random room, The room was dimly lit, stairs going down "This is a bad idea!" "What makes you think theres not more monsters there?" He stammered "Just-" You were thinking of a retort but you knew he was right, You hesitated before shrugging him off. "You're really stubborn y'know, Hey!" Leo groaned yet still followed you down the stairs.

The seemingly old stairs creaked under yours and leo's weight, carefully listening for any hits of a monster nearby, The faint noise of.. moaning? could be heard, growing louder as the both of you walk further down the stairs "What the hell?" You cursed under your breath near a laugh, tugging leo's shirt forcing him to keep a straight face so he doesnt attract attention from whoever was there below. Soon enough You were in a wine cellar, with bunch of drunk and horny teenagers who doesnt look a day over 17, there were 5 pairs of couples all scattered throughout the room practically eating each others faces off, "You've got to be kidding me.." You slammed your face, Leo couldn't help but snicker behind "A make out spot hah!" You glared at him forcing your way into the end of the wine cellar, There was no point in being quiet or sneaky though, all those people there were too busy fulfilling their.. Fantasies... "we should do that sometimes" Leo smirked, making you cough, Cheeks growing red and you turned to look at him trying to keep an intimidating face as leo made his hands do a kissy kiss, You rolled your eyes, cheeks a pinkish hue then you "Accidentally" gave him a quick jab to the stomach "Oh oops" "Owh!" he said clutching his stomach, frowning up at you, You examined the wine cellar trying to find any exit but there was none… or as far as you could tell “theres no exit.” You mumbled checking the gaps of the overfilled shelves if there was a way to get out “The monster is close, we have to hide somewhere.” You gave leo back the machine so he could try and figure out whats wrong with it “adam!..” a girl groaned from across the room followed by a growl of a guy “I swear to hades, I’m actually gonna puke” Leo couldn’t contain his laughter anymore

“Dont be dramati-“ Just like that you were cut off, the both of you could hear a door breaking open from upstairs, it wouldn’t take long for the giant to come to the room, the both of you looked at each other and hurriedly searched every corner of the wine cellar for a hope of escaping “nothing!” Leo mouthed from across the room trying to ignore the couple that had their faces basically attached to eachother “Come here! I think i found something!” you mouthed back and he hurriedly ran right back over to you “i think-“ Then a loud crash from the entrance above could be heard all the way to the room below, somehow didn’t attract the humans in the same room, the both of you looked at each other with a knowing look when the old stairs creaked again, the giant was headed down muttering to himself “tsk tsk tsk.” both of you looked at each other and back at the stairs, and you could see a hint of a musty big foot.. both of your eyes widened could no longer speak, "I have a plan.." You said hesitantly cheeks turning red, You could see the giants hip, revealing more of its body as it goes down

"What is it-" Leo was soon cut of when you pulled him by his tie and softly kissed him, You didn't expect the kiss to be soo... passionate?, You could see his eyes widen but went along with you and kissed you back, a hint of pink in his sunkissed skin, You could smell Leo's cologne up close.. It was so intoxicating(in a good way) You guided leo's hands to your waist trying to make it seem more believable, The both of you were clearly flustered, you just hoped that Leo's cologne was strong enough to hide the scent of the both of you, you tried to to focus back on the monster and trying not to melt into the kiss, from the corner of your eye you could see the giant peaking under the stairs examining the room and hissed "Tsk", Suddenly Leo pushed you back into the wall kissing you in a slow and playful rhythm, You were sure you were gonna explode any minute now from embarrassment "Shh, eyes on me." He whispered before taking another kiss, You couldn't tell what was real and what was not anymore, You thought he wanted you to keep your eyes on his so that the giant doesn't notice, right?, I mean this was your plan.. Why are you so flustered right now??? "Its just for the mission" You think to yourself, a hint of vulnerability in your heart, But you snapped back to reality when you felt his heart beating fast through his suit, he still kept tight grip on your waist, his other hand found its way to cup your cheeks, finally after what felt like minutes the giant finally went away with a huff, so the plan did work!, now it was time to stop kissing right?, But leo still hasn't noticed that the giant was long gone, and was still softly kissing you, You pulled away slowly, Your eyes kept in contact as you pulled away with a breathy gasped "Uhm.." "Ehem.." The both of you were flustered, You pulled away from his grasp acting like nothing happened, trying to act busy examining the room again for a way out, but your mind could't help but replay the moment in your head, He cant lie and sat he didn't miss the way your lips parted just to kiss him back. Wait, what are you guys thinking? it was just for the mission, nothing else, no feelings attached, right? "Can we atleast talk about it-" Leo mumbled behind you, cheeks flushed, you tried to ignore him checking the shelves once more before finding a hidden button hidden underneath the off brand wine "It was just to blend in.." You finally answered, remembering the words he spoke to you earlier, still feeling embarrassed, not like you can confess when you're in a life and death situation, but still those words hit like a dagger to his heart, Yours especially, denying your feelings for him, oh if only you knew how whipped this boy was for you, There was a hint of disappointment mixed with embarrassment in the air, You couldn't even hold proper eye contact with him without the memories appearing in your mind, and the smell of his cologne lingering in the air. "C'mon, lets get out of here."

Requests | Riordan verse Masterlist

#kept you guys waiting for long enough so here #you go #percy jackson #luke castellan #fanfiction #pjo #leo valdez #pjo fandom #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #jason grace #percy pjo #leo valdez x reader #leo pjo #charles beckendorf x reader #charles beckendorf #percabeth #percy jackson x reader #percy series #percy and grover #percy and annabeth #percy jackon and the olympians #heroes of olympus #luke castellan drabble #luke castellan x reader #leo valdez drabble #Eu’s Novelette

[saintlaurentisms]

hi my love! been obsessed with the fictional club scene recently; was wondering if you could write me a quick smutty club bathroom/dancefloor blurb!!! have fun with it, i love ya <3 :3

fulfilling the fantasy.

A/N: i had so much fun writing this, holy shit. this is dedicated to all of the harry & ashton fans in the world (and on the internet!), i see you and i believe you have taste.

gif credit.

summary: in which, you and your boyfriend go out to celebrate a successful first tour gig and the adrenaline seriously heightens emotions. ~ featuring ashton irwin of 5 seconds of summer.

content warning: smut (semi-public p-in-v sex in front of a mirror, voyeurism, threesome (???), dirty talk (degradation + praise), oral sex (male receiving), some hair pulling, daddy kink.) this work is intended for those 18+ and should be read by mature audiences only.

word count: 2.7k+ words.

The post-concert adrenaline hadn’t wavered in Harry’s veins, that much was evident. When you looked at him, all you could see was the radiance of energy and purity of happiness; evergreen in his eyes, the rose color in his lips, the blackness of ink that shone underneath the arctic hues of blue and white in the nightclub you and Harry had ventured to in the darkness of the evening. It was risky going out, especially at a time where One Direction fans were probably having their own adventure, still riding the high of seeing their favorite band perform live, but you nor Harry seemed to care.

Tonight was all about him, all about celebrating a successful first show and the beginning of the On the Road Again tour. The rest of the boys had preoccupied themselves with their own forms of fun, leaving you and Harry by yourselves. Upon entering the venue, you beelined towards the bar, your hand in Harry’s with your heads bowed to try and keep your identities a bit of a secret. You’re in the middle of ordering a round of vodka shots for you both before you feel a gentle tap on your shoulder. You turn your head to get a glance at who could have tapped you, though you’re already suspecting it was a fan. 

You were wrong.

“Holy shit, Ashton?” You exclaim, eyebrows furrowing at the man in front of you. Harry’s eyes widen a bit at your words, turning his body fully to face the drummer, abandoning the bartender and the prospect of alcohol. It had been a while since you’d interacted with Ashton in person, only really communicating via text or video chat since you last saw him a year ago. Of course, it had been far longer for Harry; One Direction had 5 Seconds of Summer on tour with them in 2013 and 2014 and they all grew quite close during that time, but their communication had fizzled out due to how busy both bands became. 

“I knew it was you!” Ashton grins, hazel eyes glimmering with excitement as the pair of you take each other in. The buzz of chemistry between you and the Australian was palpable – palpable enough for anyone to notice it, including Harry. 

Harry’s lips twitch up into a small smile at the interaction taking place in front of him, yet an ugly, gnawing feeling in his gut is slowly beginning to grow; he knew you were attracted to Ashton when you’d met back in 2013 and that Ashton reciprocated those feelings once you both had gotten to know one another. However, you and Harry had just begun dating and knew that nothing would come of your little crush on the drummer. Still, a deep-seated insecurity nestled its way into his bones and, apparently, hadn’t quite left. 

Maybe it was the adrenaline coursing through his veins, but the unsettling amount of jealousy your boyfriend was beginning to feel made his evergreen eyes go emerald; hard, darkened. “We’re celebrating tour,” Harry cuts in, instinctively wrapping an arm around your shoulders, “the first show was earlier on.” 

“Yeah, I heard through the grapevine,” Ashton replies playfully, “Niall. Niall’s the grapevine. He asked if the boys and I could catch the show, but we were busy. Will you be in Australia for a bit?”

“Yes! Yeah, we’ll be in Australia. 1D has shows in Brisbane and Melbourne.” The words tumble out of your mouth and it sounds as though you’re a walking advert for your boyfriend’s band. Clearly, Ashton finds it cute because he’s chuckling at your unfiltered enthusiasm the minute you stop rambling. 

“Well, it was great to see you guys. I didn’t mean to intrude.” He smiles, though his words are a slight dig at your boyfriend; Ashton could tell Harry’s guard was up and the jealousy that he exuded was crystal clear. At least, it was to him.

You, on the other hand, were too wrapped up in excitement to truly take note. 

The drummer leaves you and Harry at the bar, going back into the atmosphere of the club. You spot him joining a group of friends at a table. Part of you wishes he’d stay and chat more, but the evening wasn’t about socializing, it was about basking in the glory of your popstar beau. 

Everything seems to return back to normal; you turn your attention back to the bar and order that round of vodka shots for yourself and Harry. The two of you are two shots deep before his gaze falls on you, “D’you want to fuck him?” 

You choke on the alcohol, sputtering slightly with wide eyes at the incredibly unexpected question. “W-What? What the fuck are you- are you talking about?” You speak between breaths, trying to regain composure. Harry wasn’t usually so direct, this only happened whenever sex was involved, so why he was so upfront confused you a bit. 

“Do you want to have sex with Ashton?”

“Harry,” You look at him incredulously, “don’t be ridiculous. No, I don’t want to sleep with Ashton.”

“Don’t lie, Y/N. You’ve always fancied him, we both know that.”

“So what? I’m with you, I love you. Want you, not him. It’s just a little celebrity crush, H. You know I’d-”

“Darling,” Harry interrupts with a chuckle, amused by your immediate instinct to reassure him that you’d never entertain infidelity. He knew how committed you were to him. “S’ not what I mean. I know you wouldn’t cheat on me. M’ askin’ if you’d ever thought about fucking him.” 

You weren’t sure whether to be truthful or to set aside your feelings. On one hand, he was only asking you if you’d thought about it or had ever fantasized about it, yet on the other hand, a part of you was sure that if you answered with the truth, he’d get angry with you. However, Harry had never been the type to get angry over honesty. In fact, he preached being truthful. 

“I’ve… thought about it, yeah. It isn’t really a fantasy about him fucking me, though. It’s more- well, it’s more about you and him.”

Your boyfriend blinks, “A threesome?”

“Kind of? I- I guess you could describe it that way. You, uhm.. You take turns.”

At this, the popstar is silent. His eyebrows knit together as he thinks for a brief moment. 

“We share you.”

You cringe at Harry’s words. The lewdness of his sentence lingers and makes you feel queasy, “When you put it like that, I sound like a slut. I hate how that sounds.”

“Baby, there’s nothin’ wrong with wanting to explore having more than one sexual partner. ‘Spose it is a threesome you’re wanting. I…” He trails off, pearly teeth nibbling at his lower lip as he starts to think deeply once more, diving head first into the depths of his head. 

“Yeah?” You coax, eyebrows raising slightly.

“I’ll be honest, m’ a bit jealous about it- the idea of another man takin’ you. But, if it’s just a one time thing, I think I could be okay with it.” Harry replies sincerely, green eyes meeting your own briefly. “One night only, the two of us makin’ you ours for an evening.”

Those words go straight to your core and your brain begins to conjure up filthy images of Ashton and Harry taking turns pleasing you. Your thighs squeeze together in order to quell the heat beginning to bloom in between them. “Please?” You ask quietly, gazing up at your boyfriend with faux innocence; a little look like this tends to send Harry into dominant overdrive. 

He smirks, “Text him and tell him to meet us in the bathroom, love.”

Within eight minutes, Ashton is tapping on the club’s bathroom door before swiftly entering and locking it behind him. His hazel eyes glance over at Harry, then at you. “Are you sure about this?”

You’d texted the drummer about the situation when your boyfriend had told you to, not leaving any important details out of it. It was made clear: you, Harry and Ashton, fucking in the club’s bathroom. The only opportunity you’d ever get to have both of the men you deemed incredibly fit and had the most chemistry with. 

You nod confidently, “I’m sure, I promise.” 

Like a switch had flipped, Ashton’s gaze meets Harry’s again, but there’s a haze in it; his once bright hazel eyes are clouded with desire. Some silent conversation is had between their eyes, maybe it’s both men agreeing to the terms – whatever it is, they both exude an aura of dominance that has your heartbeat increasing. You’ve never wanted to be on your knees this badly before.

The feeling of Harry’s lips brushing against your ear brings you out of your reverie and a short gasp leaves your lips as they trail downward and press a deep kiss to your neck. Ashton walks forward, one of his hands cupping your cheek as he brings his lips to yours, sealing your fate. 

The affair becomes a blur of quick movements and kisses shared as time progresses. The soft clink of belts being unbuckled and heavy breathing fills the room when you’re finally brought down to your knees, eyes feigning innocence as you look up at Ashton. His hand is wrapped around his cock, the tip of it right at your lips. 

“Go on, baby. Show Ashton how much of a good little slut y’ are.” Harry encourages you, leaning against the sink with his hand tugging slowly at his length. Without much else, your lips wrap around the drummer’s dick, your head bobbing up and down in order to take more of it in.

“Fuck,” Ashton swears through gritted teeth, his free hand weaving itself into your hair, gently guiding your movements, “so good, doll. Keep goin’ just like that for me.” 

You do, you allow him to guide your movements with each tug on your hair, furthering his cock into your mouth. It’s sloppy; tears are welling in your eyes whenever he hits the back of your throat, your saliva is coating his dick and your chin. “She’s such a slut for it, Styles. Damn, you got lucky.” Ashton groans low in his throat, which makes Harry smirk.

“Bet you’re absolutely dripping, aren’t you baby? Adore being used, don’t you?” Your boyfriend taunts you, evergreen eyes watching you suck off his friend. All you can do is look at him as validation for his statement. 

Ashton’s fingers wrapping in the strands of your hair becomes slightly fiercer, pulling and pushing your lips up and down his length as he chases euphoria. “Fuck, I’m close.” He warns, hazel eyes shutting as he tries his damndest to hold on for just a bit longer.

Your eyes flit towards Harry, who’s still watching you give Ashton a blowjob, his hand tugging at his cock lazily. A devilish grin has throned itself upon his lips, “Cum for her, Ash.”

The drummer’s fingers twitch momentarily, then still. A guttural groan leaves his lips as his head tilts back and his cock throbs in between your lips, emptying himself into your mouth. Eagerly, you swallow what he gives you – and it’s a lot; thick streams of cum paint your tongue white.

Ashton pulls away from you once his cock starts to soften, tucking himself back into his trousers and gently helping you up from off your knees. “That was- shit, that was really fuckin’ good.”

“I- uh.. I’m glad you enjoyed it.” You reply a bit bashfully. “Now, do you mind if Harry and I…” You trail off, hoping he’d take the hint that you wanted to be alone with your significant other.

Thankfully, he does. Ashton turns to look at himself in the mirror above the sink, straightening himself out before saying goodbye to you and Harry, then asking your boyfriend to text him. He unlocks the door and disappears into the club. 

You make quick work of locking it once more, then face your boyfriend. Harry gestures you over to him and the minute you’re standing in front of him, both of his hands grip your waist. He wastes no time in undressing your lower half and bending you over the sink, one of his hands reaching to pull at your hair so your eyes are focused on your reflections in the mirror. He’s being rough, but you hadn’t expected much else; whenever he got really aroused, his dominant side would peak significantly. 

“Did you like having Ashton’s dick down your throat, darling? I know you did, I can feel just how wet you are.” He teases you, the head of his length pressing up against your entrance. “I think you enjoyed it a bit too much, Y/N. D’you need to be reminded of who you belong to, baby?”

You swallow thickly, eyes meeting his through the mirror, “Yes.”

“Sorry? Didn’t quite hear you, love.”

A shaky sigh leaves your lips, “Yes, Daddy.”

The feeling of Harry’s cock stretching you out overwhelms your senses, your nails claw at the sink as he bottoms out. “Have to be quick,” He grunts as his hips start to move, thrusting in and out of your dripping pussy at an unrelenting pace, “but I’ll make damn sure you know who you belong to once m’ finished.” 

You can’t speak, your lips are parted as heavy breaths and choked moans roll off of your tongue as your boyfriend takes you. Harry’s right hand finds your clit, the pads of his fingers start toying with the sensitive pearl. “Look at you, takin’ my cock like the perfect slut that y’ are. Should fulfill more of your fantasies if this is how bloody good you’ll be.” He growls in your ear.

“Yes- yes, please!” You mewl, the prospect of exploring more of your desires with the man that you love makes you more aroused, your pussy clenches around his cock at the thought. “I- I love being your p-perfect little slut.”

“I know, angel. So fuckin’ perfect f’ Daddy.” 

A whine leaves your lips, “God, Harry, I’m gonna cum.” 

“Not before you tell me who you belong to, baby.” 

Another whine leaves your lips; he’s playing a game with you and if you don’t obey the rules, you won’t get to orgasm. You need to orgasm. 

“Yours, Harry. I- I’m all yours.”

He gives a particularly rough thrust and his teeth scrape at your ear, “Who’s pussy is this?”

You gasp, “Yours.”

“That’s right, angel. Now you can cum f’ me.” 

Harry’s fingers on your clit continue to rub quick circles, his eyes fixated on your features twisting up in pure ecstasy as your orgasm hits you hard; jaw slack, eyes pinched shut, pussy throbbing around his cock. 

The feeling of you squeezing around him like a vice triggers his own orgasm. He buries his face into the crook of your neck to muffle the loud groan that reverberates in his chest, his stomach clenching as he empties himself inside of you. 

“Holy shit.” You chuckle breathlessly as your orgasms begin to dissipate. Harry’s hand falls away from your clit and he gingerly begins to pull out of you, eyebrows furrowing a bit at the feeling. 

“Are you alright?” He asks, helping you steady yourself as you straighten up. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m alright. I do have a question for you,” You begin, just as you both start redressing, “were you being serious about fulfilling more of my fantasies? Or was that the testosterone talking?”

Harry grins, “Definitely not just the testosterone. We’ve never actually discussed what sexual fantasies you’ve had.”

“Do you have any?” You ask curiously, quietly wracking your brain for a possible answer he might give.

“Not very many, but I do have a few. Don’t think we should begin discussing them now, darling. We’ve been in here for a long time.” He replies, taking a quick glance at himself in the mirror, then wrapping an arm around your waist. 

“Right,” You giggle, “we should go.” 

Harry reaches to unlock the bathroom door and leads you back out into the club, the both of you exiting with smug expressions on your faces and one shared thought…

If this was only one of your fantasies, what else could you both explore?

#harry styles imagine #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #lhh!harry #1d smut #1d imagines #harry styles fic #harry styles filth #harry smut #ashton irwin imagines #ashton irwin #ashton irwin x reader #ashton x reader #ashton irwin fanfic #ashton irwin one shot #ashton irwin smut #5sos imagine #5sos smut #harry styles x y/n #ashton irwin x y/n #harry styles blurb #ashton irwin blurb #harry styles smut

[tswhiisftteedr]

ANYTHING Lute x Reader, i just need to see more of this perfect gal whose had like 3 minutes total of screentime

Girls ☆ One Shot

☆ Lute x Human Soul!Fem!Reader:

After having met you on your first day in heaven, your life and lute’s would change for the better as you had found your other half despite your original predicaments.

Words: 4228

Warnings: Mature Content, Explicit/Graphic Language, Honestly Nothing Kinky, It’s just plain girl on girl smut. Homophobia. Lute might be ooc. NOT PROOFREAD.

Notes: Okay right off the bat, some bullshit logic about angels being able to tell if someone is queer, also lute is gay but has some major internalized homophobia so for a good chunk of this she’s rude to the reader just because they’re gay.

☆ more under the cut. ☆

Frankly, the scenario felt weird, especially given the fact that both of you were, well, 'you.'

From a logical standpoint, it didn't add up, not in the slightest. However, in the grand scheme of things, ‘does love really need to make sense?’

The response to that question was unquestionably, no, when observing your relationship with Lute.

It all began when your seemingly stable life abruptly crumbled. While crossing the street, mind you, at a red light, fate took a dark turn as a truck with faulty brakes struck you, ending your life on the spot.

There was no reincarnation into another world after this encounter with truck-kun; you were flat out dead.

In the blink of an eye, you found yourself standing before the gates of Heaven, where Saint Peter meticulously inspected his book, akin to the VIP list of an exclusive nightclub – or so it seemed.

However, instead of the typical club scene with artificial lights, drugs, unpleasant odours, drunk individuals, and a sense of desperation, you were enveloped in a heavenly realm. Fluffy clouds, savoury food, sweet fragrances, joyful company, and an overwhelming sense of acceptance surrounded you.

This was truly paradise, and you were relieved that your life wasn't too problematic. After being shown your potential residence—a beautiful house with a spacious garden—and touring 'Heaven city' with a friendly Angel couple, you enjoyed exploring your surroundings.

However, the perfection took a turn when you accidentally encountered the first unfriendly 'individual' in Heaven.

"Watch it," the woman with white hair warned you, and after scanning you from head to toe (much like her golden-winged companion), she remarked, "I guess they really let anybody in these days, even people like you."

With those words, she walked away accompanied by the non-human-looking 'man,' which seemed to be the norm in this place. However, you couldn't shake off the unease caused by her reference to 'people like you.'

Soon, you discovered the meaning behind her comment. Apparently, angels here could distinguish between cis-straight and queer individuals.

The reason of ‘why?’ remained unknown to you, but what became clear was that, in her opinion, you didn't deserve Heaven—not based on your actions but solely due to your sexuality, ‘and that pissed you off.’

You had planned to confront her the next time your paths crossed, and that moment arrived three months later, long after you had moved on from the incident;

Now, you were patiently waiting in line to sample drinks at the recently opened smoothie bar. The atmosphere was serene and heavenly, as expected.

Just as it was about to be your turn to order, you were rudely jolted by the announcement, "Move it, bitches, Adam’s in the houuuse."

You found yourself pushed aside, forced to witness the obnoxious Angel now placing his order.

Midway through his order “Pineapple smoothie with extra pineapple, tapioca, grass jelly, make it an extra-large with extra sugar, then she’ll have-“ it suddenly dawned on you that he was the guy with the white-haired companion from last time. Before you could fully process it, you turned around to find the white-haired woman right beside you.

Upon noticing you, she shot a disgusted glare and 'tsk' your way. Frustrated, you thought, 'That rude bitch- Not only did she cut in line, but she also gave you a look like you were a turd on the incredibly clean streets of heaven!'

This time, you were determined to speak your mind to her;

"Whats your problem?" you question her with frustration evident in your tone.

"Excuse me?" she retorts, disdain dripping from her voice.

"I'm asking, what's your issue with me? Our first encounter, you flat out implied I didn't belong in heaven. Seriously, for what, for being gay? Firstly, that's bullshit because my worth as a person shouldn't be based on my sexuality. Secondly, it's just plain homophobic. Isn't heaven supposed to be all about accepting thy neighbour? So instead of treating me like I'm beneath you, how about an apology for our last interaction, Miss off-brand Kanade?" You lay it all out, determined not to let her disrespect slide this time. She was to blame before, but allowing it again would be on you, ‘and that wasn't going to happen.’

"Oooooh, cat fight!" remarked the golden-winged Angel, treating your dispute as some form of entertainment. Also 'cat fight', was he fucking serious?! That term left you thinking, 'misogynistic asshole!' in response to his words.

"Do you even know who you're speaking to?" the woman questioned, exuding a sense of superiority.

"Yeah, tear that bitch a new on, Lute!" the golden-winged Angel chimed in.

"I don't 'lute,' and if you were truly that significant, I would’ve. But it sure as hell doesn't seem to be the case!" you retorted with a touch of spite, placing extra emphasis on her name.

The shop as a hole gasped at the mention of the ‘H word’.

"I’ll have you on that I hold the title of Lieutenant of— in the Heavenly Army. And as one of God's warriors, I deserve respect from someone of your, let's say, slightly above dreadful mortal soul status," she declares, almost slipping up and inadvertently revealing the existence of exterminators.

"Sure thing, 'heaven warrior.' Firstly, when did we ever need an angel like you? It's been peaceful here. Secondly, I couldn't help but notice that slip-up. I don't know your real occupation, probably still military judging by your mannerisms, but certainly not some simple member of this 'heaven’s army,'" you respond, now sure that she's concealing her true job from most of Heaven's population.

"You insolent, miserable, lower life form! Consider yourself fortunate that your meager good deeds in your pathetic human life landed you here. Otherwise, I would have had the pleasure to—" she began, but was abruptly interrupted by her 'companion' or perhaps 'boss.' "Chill out, danger tits," he calmly stated in a tone vastly different from his earlier goofiness. The shift in his demeanor was genuinely unsettling.

And her attitude swiftly transformed; she composed herself and turned to face him. "I apologize, Adam, sir. I allowed my emotions to take over and stepped out of line," she said, directing her apology not to you but to her boss.

With that, the two individuals departed, leaving you to independently apologize to your fellow angels for the disturbance.

Was that the final occasion you heard or saw them? No, because not even a month later, here you were;

Another fun aspect of heaven was its schools, designed for souls who aspired to study on Earth but lacked the opportunity or had their lives cut too short to complete their educations.

Another facet of this scenario allowed the souls of teachers or individuals aspiring to aid in unfulfilled dreams to volunteer for assisting with the children's education.

That's why you found yourself present today, supporting Miss Asiimwe with her fourth-grade anglophone class during a spelling bee. Just as the classroom door swung open, an unmistakably loud and obnoxious voice rang out, "What up turds, big bro Adam's in the house!"

Your day took a turn from a wholesome one contributing to kids' education to a shitty one, because if that ‘pompous jerk Adam was here, she sure would also be—‘ "Oh, it's you again," Lute remarks to you, her voice less harsh than the last encounter but still carrying a hint of bitterness.

Truly, ‘It was a waste for her to be so beautiful with that kind of attitude’. Despite her rude remarks about your sexual orientation, you may or may not find her attractive—perhaps not the wisest choice, and you were aware of such. But hey, after all, dominatrix existed, and they get paid handsomely to insult people. So, ‘is it really that unconventional to be into her?’

Yes, it very much so was. However, before having the chance to delve into those thoughts, Lute abruptly snapped her fingers right in front of your face to divert your attention.

"What are you doing here?! And a quit staring at me like that!" she demanded, replacing her fingers with her face, now uncomfortably close, and you could feel her breath on your face.

"Um, well— I'm assisting this classroom's teacher, something I've been doing since week one in heaven, so you're not kicking me out," you replied with a defensive tone, slightly taken aback by her question but drawing from your previous interactions.

"I never claimed I would, chill out, mortal soul. You shouldn't project the stress of your inadequacy as an inferior being into this classroom's atmosphere. Stress spreads easily, and you wouldn't want it affecting the children," she declares with authority, though her tone and gaze had some gentleness in it.

Truth be told, she might have found herself drawn to you. It was a difficult pill to swallow, given her blatant homophobia and the fact she found the thought of ‘her’ being attracted to a woman absolutely absurd.

Upon initially glimpsing your figure and sensing a certain fire within her, her instinctive response was to be rude to you.

"You mentioned you've been assisting here since your first week. How frequently do you come by?" she inquires, attempting to initiate casual conversations with you. By now, she had acknowledged that you weren't to blame for her attraction. While you might be the source, her draw toward women wasn't dependent on whether she found you hot or not.

"Well, I try to stop by at least twice a week. I believe having familiar faces during learning helps children feel safer and more supported," you admitted, surprised that she's engaging in small talk.

"I completely agree. Having a trusted adult present during learning builds a strong foundation for children's education, especially for the younger ones," she adds, gazing ahead at the classroom where the children have transitioned from spelling to playing with Adam.

"Leave it to the man-child to get along with kids," you joke to yourself, watching how effortlessly Adam bonds with the children. They're engrossed in a game involving knights and kings, with Adam, of course, playing the role of the king.

To your surprise, Lute chuckles at your remark before quickly composing herself. "Well, he is the father of humanity," she states, a faint smile appearing at the corner of her lips.

"I guess I can't argue with facts," you reply, your own face lighting up with a smile at the sight of the joyful children.

After that day, your meetings with Lute became a regular occurrence. Whether it was the joyful atmosphere of children immersed in learning or something else, she grew quite friendly with you over the course of two months. Your interactions even extended beyond the school, evolving into outings to cafes and amusement parks.

Today was one of Lute's off-duty days. You weren't exactly sure why heaven required an army, but you refrained from probing too much, especially during your hangouts, which were focused on enjoying each other's company rather than discussing work.

Currently, you were at CheeLand, the largest amusement park in all of heaven, offering rides for both the faint-hearted and adrenaline junkies alike.

You leaned towards the gentler side when it came to this type of amusement, while Lute embraced the thrill. That's why you found yourself anxiously gripping your seat’s restrains as the cart ascended the rails, anticipating the impending drop.

Your white-haired friend had successfully egged you on, convincing you to join her on the ride. Despite calming yourself in line, once the ride began, all your anxiety rushed back;

Lute, growing excited as the carts continued to climb up, remarked, "This is going to be so fucking fun! Can't believe you were such a baby about it in line." Her teasing tone shifted as she noticed your terrified expression.

Softening, she grabbed your hand and reassured you, "Listen, you'll be alright. The rides are completely safe and secure. Plus, I'm here with you." Her last sentence was emphasized by a comforting squeeze of your hand, prompting you to turn and look at her. "And worst case scenario, you're already dead, so there's nothing to be truly afraid of," she joked, easing the tension slightly.

But then came her next words, reigniting panic. "Okay, get ready, we're almost there." Glancing forward, you realized, "Oh, shit." She was right, and in an instant, the drop arrived. Both of you screamed at the top of your lungs throughout the entire ride…

You emerged from the ride, your head still a bit foggy and your voice hoarse from screaming, with Lute holding your hand.

As you both walk towards a nearby bench for a moment of composure, she remarks, "See, wasn't so bad."

"The fuck it wasn't!" you retort. Just as she's about to tease you for your reaction, you abruptly pull her into a tight hug in a serge of emotions. "But thanks for being with me. I doubt I could have even mustered the courage to join the ride lineup if you weren't here. I'm really grateful you're with me," you whisper softly.

She was startled by the contact, causing her to freeze momentarily. Although her initial instinct was to pull away due to nervousness, she recognized this as a vulnerable moment for you. Awkwardly, she hugged you back and gradually melted into the embrace.

After 5 minutes, the reality of the position hit her, and nerves kicked in. "You're welcome, now get off me, you weirdo," she insists, pulling away from the hug. However, all you can do is smile at her. Despite her attempt to maintain a front, she can't help but crack a smile too. 'She actually enjoyed how close you just were,' but that was something she kept to herself.

At some point in time, you had even overheard her referring to you as her friend to her boss, Adam, who questioned her sudden shift from his side to yours. Her face turned beet red as she defended you—a sight you wouldn't have expected from her at all.

However, that flushed look she harbored became increasingly frequent over time. You had become accustomed to her mannerisms and the way she expressed emotions, often lashing out due to difficulty in self-expression.

You had grown familiar with what brought a smile to her face, what upset her, and especially what left her flustered. By then, you had realized she liked you based on her behaviours, yet it seemed she hadn't recognized the romantic nature of her feelings.

Aware of her confusion, especially considering her upbringing and training, you knew the absence of romance in her education left her clueless about such emotions. Despite this, you chose to let her navigate these feelings on her own. It wasn't your place to impose that you were better aware of her own emotions than she was.

Yet, you played a role in guiding her toward this realization by incorporating more physical gestures, of course, always within her comfort boundaries: holding her hand more often, offering more frequent hugs, ensuring there was some form of touch between you two.

A common occurrence was when you walked together, either with your arm around her or your pinkies linked.

Her flushed face became so habitual that seeing her without it seemed unusual; the red tint became her typical expression when spending time with you.

Take, for instance, that day when you visited the newly opened restaurant on 'Holy Avenue.';

Opting for a Caesar salad, Lute aimed to play it safe in case the other offered dish didn't appeal to her taste. However, as she munched on her food, her gaze kept wandering to your dish, which seemed quite appetizing.

She attempted to deny her desire for a bite, but after spending so much time together, you had become adept at reading her emotions.

Acknowledging her unspoken request, you picked up a small portion with your fork, gesturing for her to join in. Initially embarrassed, she hesitated to refuse, but a single pleading look and she relented.

Her face flushed from the intimate gesture, the question of ‘why was she getting so worked up over your friendly act’ lingered in her mind as she finally took the bite-size food portion. The fact that she found you visually pleasing wasn't the answer she sought. Her feelings were deeper than mere physical attraction.

This realization was further confirmed as she spent the entire night unable to sleep, her mind consumed by thoughts of your hangout and the fact that you had fed her.

Tossing and turning, she found herself questioning the nature of your relationship: were you friends? Yes, that was obvious. Were you a couple? No, definitely not. Did she want you to be more than friends, an item perhaps? "Uuh, fuck," she groaned into her pillow as the realization hit her that she had developed feelings for you.

By now, it seemed like everyone and their mothers were aware of Lute's feelings, evident in her actions toward you. Not only had she begun reciprocating your physical advances, but she also initiated some herself.

Whether it was greeting you with a warm hug after a week apart, including you in her imposed outings with Adam, or playfully wrapping an arm around your waist during these occasions, her actions spoke volumes.

She'd whisper sweet jabs about her boss into your ear, leading to fits of laughter. Adam, in response, would roll his eyes at your intimate gestures, teasing Lute for being too obvious about her affection.

Despite her embarrassment and denials of any romantic feelings, you knew better than to take those at face value.

Yet besides the deep connection you shared, she struggled to express her feelings toward you. Accepting that she liked you had already been a significant challenge. Therefore, the idea of asking you out was currently off the table.

She needed to communicate her sentiments without uttering a word, and that's where today came into play—Valentine's Day.

Lute had dedicated the entire previous day and night to baking the perfect sweet, chocolaty treat for you. Not being accustomed to baking, she faced numerous trials and errors before getting it just right. Now, the moment had arrived for her to present these treats to you.

Having texted you to meet her at 'Wings Caffe' around 10, she patiently occupied a table since 9:30 a.m. following your confirmation text.

Initially, her plan was to simply hand you the chocolate, letting you make assumptions and agreeing when you eventually concluded that she liked you. However, things didn't go as planned, and nerves took over;

"Aww, that's so sweet, Lute. Thank you, really. I didn't get anything today, since y’a know, single as a Pringle," you remarked, pointing to yourself. "These chocolates mean a lot. By the way, they look fantastic. Where did you get them? I'd love to buy more for a snack," you inquired, holding the heart-shaped box.

"Made them," she mumbled, visibly embarrassed by your compliments.

"Really? Wow, I didn't know you baked. Maybe I'll come over to your place more often and have you whip something up for me," you begin. The implication of spending more time together tugs at Lute's chest, but your last sentence hits her hard. "I'm so grateful to have a friend who's skilled at baking and willing to make me things," you say as you start munching on the treats.

'Friends'—that's right, nothing more. It appears she couldn't rely on the heart-shaped box or the chocolate with words of affirmation in pink sprinkles to convey her feelings. If she desired more than friendship, she would have to be honest about her feelings this time.

However, true to her defensive nature, instead of clarifying the true reason behind giving chocolate on the day of love, she merely went along with your characterization of it as a friendly gesture.

"Yeah, I guess you're lucky to have a friend like me, someone so good at everything," she boasted, her voice proud, yet her expression betraying a hint of sadness.

Noticing the inconsistency, you set the box down on the table to free your hands and gently took hers. Meeting her gaze directly, you squeezed her hands for reassurance. "I wanted to let you work things out at your own pace, but we're not making any progress," you began, and she looked at you wide-eyed.

"I like you, Lute, and I know you like me too," you stated frankly. Before she could employ her defense mechanism, you added, "I'm not saying we have to start dating right away. I understand if you're not ready for that. But please keep in mind, as long as you don't outright reject me, I'll keep trying to pursue a relationship with you."

Upon hearing those words, Lute sensed the release of all the built-up stress and fear of rejection.

A newfound confidence surged within her, making her bold enough to grab your face and plant a bold kiss in plain sight for everyone at the café to witness. "Fuck yes, I'll be your girlfriend," she declared as she pulled away.

With a simple "Now, let's get out of here," the two of you stood up from your seats, leaving the café behind as her apartment became your new destination.

Upon reaching her place, things escalated rapidly—like, really rapidly. Mere seconds after stepping through the door, she was all over you.

Passionate kisses, hands exploring every inch of your body, fingers grabbing at whatever they could find. Nails scratching and digging, teeth occasionally biting at your skin when her mouth left yours.

Given the speed with which she undressed you, it seemed like she had envisioned this scenario for quite some time.

Before you knew it, you were lying on her bed, completely devoid of clothing, and that's when she began to work her magic;

Squirming within her grasp, she held your thighs down while eating you out. Breathless, you questioned, "I thought you were a homophobe before we met. How are you so good at this??" The overwhelming sensation of her tongue left you in awe.

You can practically feel her grin against your lips as she responds, "Yep, I was. But after developing a crush on you, I did my homework. Figured it be useful at one point or another. Though, ‘didn't think I'd be that good on my first actual trial.”

"Please don’t stop" you croak out between pants.

“Don’t worry, I won’t." she promised, increasing her rhythm and pressure.

As she continued to please you, you couldn't help but wonder what changed in her. This was way different from her usual flustered self. ‘Was it the time spent together? Or maybe the touch? The combination of both?’

Regardless, you decided to focus solely on the present moment, losing yourself in the sensations coursing through your body. Lute showed no signs of slowing down, proving her dedication to satisfying you.

Eventually, you reached climax, shouting her name as you finally released, your wings fluttered and your essence coated her tongue. Her response? She swallowed it down greedily, moaning around your pussy. When you finally fell back onto the bed, panting heavily, she climbed up beside you, her breasts pressing against your chest.

"That was... intense," you managed to utter between breaths.

"Glad you enjoyed it," she whispered, nibbling on your earlobe.

As you settled down together, Lute traced gentle circles on your stomach before trailing her fingers along your inner thighs. Her thumb brushed against your sensitive folds again, teasingly circling your tight entrance. "Do you want more?" she asked softly, her voice husky with desire.

You nodded weakly, unable to speak coherently yet.

Without further delay, Lute positioned herself between your spread legs again, positioning her own pussy just inches away from where she had been earlier. Lowering herself slowly, she began to rub your clits together, creating a new wave of pleasure that reverberated throughout both of them.

With each thrust of her hips, she increased the pace until you were moving in sync, your moans growing louder as you neared another orgasmic peak.

Your bodies intertwined, united in shared ecstasy, leaving neither wanting nor regretting your decision to explore the concept of a sexual relationship together.

Lute's hands grabbed onto your hips, holding you steady as she picked up speed, driving them both closer to climax. Your nails dug into her shoulders, leaving shallow crescent marks in the soft flesh; evidence of your shared intensity.

You could feel the familiar buildup starting again, your entire body tensing up in anticipation. With one final powerful thrust, Lute groaned loudly, her orgasm crashing over both of you like waves crashing onto shore. In response, you let out a high-pitched cry, joining her in blissful release.

Breathing heavily, you stayed in the same position for several moments longer than necessary, savouring the afterglow of your passionate union.

Eventually, you separated, both panting heavily. Lute rolled off of you, lying next to you on the bed, her chest heaving rapidly.

"That was... incredible," she panted out, reaching over to grab a nearby water bottle and handing it to you.

"Yeah, it was... Although I have to admit, having sex on the first day of making it official is pretty needy," you playfully tease her.

"Oh, shut up," she retorts before planting a kiss on your lips once you've swallowed your sip of water.

This relationship was going to be wilder than what you had anticipated…

Thanks anon for requesting!

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Tag list for Lute: @sunflower-lilly @charlott30045 (I still used your request because it was one that fit with what I had already received)

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[urgonnaneedabiggership]

Perfume Regret

ExBoyfriend!Miguel O'Hara x FemReader

Summary: A fic inspired by Attention by Charlie Puth. Your ex-boyfriend Miguel O'Hara left you heartbroken and no matter how intense the effect he has on you still is, you're determined to use this party to get even.

Warnings: +18 meaning SMUT AND LANGUAGE MINORS DNI OR SO HELP ME GOD. Also there's angst and good old anger-fueled sex. The ending isn't heartbreaking don't worry.

Word count: 4K

I know that dress is karma 

Perfume regret 

Got me thinking 'bout when you were mine 

Nightclubs had never been your scene. 

While you weren't strictly averse to them, you didn't thrive in that element as much as some of your friends did. Yet, whenever you decided to make an appearance, it wasn't the stroboscopic lights, the promise of a few drinks with friends, or the energizing music that made the night worth it. 

It was the hunt. 

And the preparations began long before you even set foot out of your apartment, from the moment you stood in front of the mirror wearing nothing but a fluffy bathrobe, your face a blank canvas. Getting ready with your favorite, emboldening playlist was usually a luxury but not tonight. Judging by the way you struggled to apply eyeliner over your lids with such shaky hands, tonight, you were in dire need of a crushing amount of confidence. 

So much so that a glass with one remaining sip of red wine stood next to your makeup bag, waiting for you to take that last bit of liquid courage. 

Yes, the mere thought of the chase always made your chest swell with excitement. The stolen glances from across the dancefloor until someone gave in and tried to make contact. Loud music left people no choice but to hold conversations in loud whispers that tickled your ear. The desperate attempts to make themselves worthy of your time and the small concessions you made to make them feel like the most special person in that tiny, packed, overpriced club. Flirting was a tango meant for two, and not knowing what kind of partner you'd be dancing with was exhilarating. 

Not this time, however, you thought as you picked up the glass and poured the remaining wine down your throat. Tonight you were after a much too familiar prey that you'd once been dumb enough to let get away. 

As soon as you got the digital invitation to the Alchemax Innovation Department New Year's Eve party, you knew it was time to settle the score. 

A short buzz coming from your phone interrupted your train of thought as the screen lit up with a text from whom you considered to be your work best friend, Liz. 

Heyy :) u coming? 

Yep. Be there in 20, is everybody there already?

O'Hara is missing. Idk if he's coming, though. 

Oh. 

You felt your stomach drop at the thought of all of this being for nothing. Whatever,. Who cared? You weren't doing this for him. You were doing it for yourself because you wanted to go out and have fun. 

A weak smile tugged at your lips when you couldn't even convince yourself with that blatant lie. God, you felt like a terrible feminist at the moment. Screw you, Miguel O'Hara. 

Those had been the last words you said to him before marching out of his apartment and slamming the door after you. Ever since that week during which he’d vanished from work with no explanation, your boyfriend had started to cancel your dates at the last minute or still be out at odd hours, and when he started to simply disappear and not answer your calls or texts several times throughout the day you began to worry.

When he asked if you could talk about something important, you figured you'd be getting an explanation, not dumped. 

The reason, according to him? He was dealing with some personal issues that he could not tell you about, but he'd single-handedly decided it was in your best interest to just move on with your life, so he'd decided to break things off. His face when he said all of that remained engraved in your brain since that day. Cold. Logical. As devoid of any visceral emotion as a doctor would be when recommending you to give up carbs or red meat. 

Two years of your life you'd given to him. You were planning to move in together. You were happy. For what felt like the very first time in your life, you were in love. 

You took a deep breath to keep tears from running down your cheeks and ruining your mascara. 

Even almost six months later, your heart painfully fluttered at the mention of his name.

Carefully, you dried your eyes with a piece of paper and took another deep, slow breath. Your eyes, beautifully framed by a smoky eyeshadow, slowly traced the reflection of your body in the mirror. A sleek, simple dress with a small slit on the side hugged your figure. You loved the color: a nearly black navy blue that matched your chosen makeup palette. 

At the sound of your phone, your eyes drifted down to the lit-up screen. 

Oh, nvm, he just got here. 

The game was afoot. 

As much as it hurt your pride to admit it, you were decidedly nervous as you made your way into the dimly lit nightclub, your eyes discreetly scanning the crowd in search of a particular set of brown eyes. 

Suddenly, a voice made your face in the opposite direction. 

"(Y/N)! Over here!" Liz called from the bar, waving at you with a huge smile that you returned as you walked towards her after wistfully looking at the busy crowd one last time. It wasn't until you reached the bar that you noticed she was sitting next to a man you didn't recognize. 

"So, this is she," she nearly yelled right next to the man's ear when you got close enough to be heard above the deafening electronic beats. 

"Hi, (Y/N), right?" He said, reaching out one hand, "I'm David. Liz has told me a lot about you," 

"Dave here just joined the team," Liz explained, giving his arm a gentle squeeze, "I thought it would be nice to make him feel welcomed. I'll leave you to it. I have to go say hi to a few people," She continued as she left the bar, not before giving you a certain look that made you realize you'd walked straight into a trap. While David was decidedly handsome, and you could've considered him to be your type under different circumstances, right then, your mind was somewhere else. 

"Sure," You replied distractedly, "So why did you choose to work here?" 

That should be enough to keep him talking for a while about his college education and how all he'd ever wanted to do was work for this company and so on while you focused on the matter at hand. 

Where the hell was he? 

Could it be that he'd just popped in to greet a few people and had left before you arrived? Before the countdown? 

Maybe he was celebrating New Year's with somebody else? 

"Sorry, one shot of tequila, please," You loudly called as the bartender walked past you. 

"Make that two, thanks man," David added with a flirtatious smile that you returned out of politeness, mentally praying for Liz to come back soon, knowing damn well that if she'd done this on purpose, there'd be no way out of this conversation. 

You downed the shot as soon as it was placed in front of you. 

David asked you something, but his voice reached your ears as if he was underwater. For a minute, you wondered if such a small amount of alcohol could make you feel so dizzy until you realized it was something else. Your eyes had landed on the back of a familiar head. Brown, scruffy hair and a hearty laugh that had your hands shaking again as you placed the glass back on the wooden bar. 

"God, I'm so sorry. My head's all over the place right now. You were saying?" You said, leaning closer to David. 

"I asked if Alchemax tends to go easy on the new guys or kick them to the curb at the first mistake." 

You laughed as if he'd just told an amazing joke, your eyes covertly going from his face to your target right behind him. At the sound of your laugh, his back stiffened, and you could see he was about to turn around. Right before he did, you quickly tore your eyes off him and glued them to David's face. 

"Oh, don't worry, you'll be just fine. I'll tell you what, I'll look out for you. How's that sound?” You replied, a more relaxed smile plastered on your face. David's eyes lit up. Poor guy. He probably thought that out of nowhere, his luck had shifted. 

Slowly and without losing the amused grin, you peeked over David's shoulder and found Miguel O'Hara's searing eyes staring right into yours. Unlike you, he wasn't smiling. Instead, he let those same calculating eyes unashamedly scrutinize every inch of your body that your gorgeous dress didn't cover and secretly fantasize about what it did. 

Another loud laughter leaving your lips made him snap out of a trance-like state and look into your eyes. Hunting on grounds you were no stranger to had its advantages, such as knowing what to do and when. And so you didn't look away. You held his gaze, undaunted, as you took David's unfinished tequila and brought it up to your lips to take a sip, barely sticking out your tongue to slowly lick the last droplets off your lower lip. You mouthed an apology to the man before you as you walked away from the bar, both for the stolen tequila and for what was about to happen. 

Trying your hardest not to smile or look at him, you made your way through the crowd straight toward Miguel, whose eyes you knew had remained with you since that intense visual exchange back at the bar. You felt them so intensely that you wondered if he could make you burst out in flames just by looking at you. You clenched your jaw as you got close enough for the scent of his enticing cedarwood cologne to fill your nostrils and travel all the way down to your chest, where your heart beat so strongly that it physically hurted. 

You only had one shot. This was it. 

It wasn't until you walked right past him that you finally acknowledged him, gifting him a faint smile as you stepped around him and walked toward the restrooms. 

As soon as the door closed after you, you found the two stalls were empty. After confirming you were alone, a nervous grin took over your features. Biting your lip, you approached the mirror and distractedly began to comb your hair back in place and even retouched your nude lipstick, your eyes set on the reflection of the bathroom door. 

Almost as if you'd timed it, the second you finished applying your makeup and threw it back into your purse, Miguel stealthily slid inside and shut the door after him. 

A minute that felt like an eternity to him transcurred while you kept patiently tucking strands of hair behind your ears, concealing a smug grin. Something had to give. More often, sooner than later. 

"Mind telling me what the fuck was that?" 

His voice bounced off the walls and reached your ears like a once-favorite song you hadn't heard in months. 

"What do you mean?" You calmly asked, never interrupting your task. 

"(Y/N), stop that and look at me." He commanded, his patience wearing thinner by the second. 

"I am looking at you," You nonchalantly replied, your eyes transfixed on his tense shape in the corner of the mirror as you slowly wiped some smudged lipstick off the edge of your bottom lip. 

Outside, the one-minute countdown began. Neither of you could care less. Inside that dimly lit, empty nightclub bathroom, time was irrelevant. 

In less than five steps, Miguel reached your side and, placing his hands on your shoulders, firmly spun you around to face him. 

"Carajo, ¿Tú no entiendes, verdad?" He hissed, his next leaving his mouth after an ominous pause, "Now look at me."

Not happy with the way you were being handled, you shoved him away and shot him a glare with your arms folded before you. 

"There, I'm looking. What do you want?" 

"I want you to tell me who's that asshole and why you seem to think he's so damn funny," 

"I'm sorry, O'Hara, that's none of your business anymore, is it?" You spat out.

"It was none of my business,' He agreed, wincing at the dry use of his last name, "Until you showed up in here looking like that, laughing like a dumb teen at some guy's dumb jokes, making sure I'm watching after you did some pretty extensive research to make sure I was coming."

Wanting to rebuke that argument, you immediately opened your mouth just for him to interrupt you. 

"What? You thought I wouldn't find out, bonita?" 

Miguel started to move towards you without giving you a chance to explain yourself. Still, you weren't sure of what you would've said had you been given the time. Three seconds later, he was standing right before you, trapping you against the cold stone of the sinks.

"Why are you doing this?" He absentmindedly asked, as if he was actually questioning himself or already knew the answer. Before you could react, he suddenly leaned in, burying his face in your neck and taking a deep breath, taking in the scent of your perfume along with something else that you couldn’t perceive but seemed to pull him forward so violently that he had to use both his strong arms on either side of you to hold himself back. Still, he kept babbling against the soft skin of your neck, “I didn’t want to do it…I didn’t…I shouldn’t have…mi amor, I just wanted to protect you,” 

“Protect me from what?” You asked in a breathy whisper, your self-control flaking when you felt him move even closer until your backside was pressed against the sink and your front...

You pressed your lips together to keep a noise that would be much too revealing from leaving your lips. 

Still, you realized your trials and tribulations weren’t over when his hands slowly moved closer to your thighs until his thumbs were tracing faint circles on them. 

“Do you want me to stop?” He asked in a hoarse voice before burying his nose behind your ear once more. You had to want him to stop. Before you could gather up the courage to tell him off as you should, you leaned forward and feverishly pressed your lips against his in a kiss that was all but sweet. Without breaking the kiss, in a display of both strength and coordination that was new to you, Miguel slid his hands under your thighs and lifted you effortlessly, placing you on top of the sink with a gentleness that contrasted sharply with the way he nudged your legs out of the way so he could grind his lower half into yours. This time there was no way in hell you could contain your moans. 

Pleased with the beautiful sounds he was eliciting from you, Miguel’s hands found their way back up to the thin straps of your dress, which he gently slid off from your shoulders before gripping your chin in his hand and tilting your head to the side so he could devour every inch of skin available, occasionally trapping it between his teeth to make sure it’d leave a mark. Even in your haze, you could notice there was something new to the way he was ravishing you. It was as if he was desperately trying to be gentle, to take things slow, just for something primal to take over and coerce him into taking you for himself. 

Once again, you stopped thinking when he pressed the hard bulge in his pants against you, the friction over your barely clothed clit throwing all logical thoughts out the window. 

“We don’t have much time,” You urged him, not even sure if he’d locked the door after himself. However, deep inside, you knew your motives had less to do with the little privacy and more with the way he unhurriedly worshipped your body and peppered kisses all over it, how his hands gently roamed it as if he was trying to commit every detail to memory. It reminded you of what you two had in a way that was still too painful to remember. You wouldn’t lose yourself to the memories of your past and miss out on how good he was making you feel right now. Tonight you weren’t two people deeply in love with one another trying to fight back the regrets of letting go of what was most precious to you, but two strangers about to fuck in the bathroom of a nightclub. 

As if to reinforce that thought, he swiftly pushed you further back onto the sink and pushed your legs apart even more, your dress ridding up almost all the way to your waist. You shivered as new skin was exposed to both the cold beneath you and the heat from Miguel’s skin as he fumbled with the fly of his pants. Meanwhile, you kept yourself busy trying to unbutton his shirt with shaky hands and silently thanked he wasn’t wearing a jacket in the first place. You needed to get him out of as many clothes as possible in the little time you had, needing to feel more of his skin against yours. 

Your desire wasn’t fulfilled until the shirt slid off his tan, broad shoulders, and you were pressed against his bare chest, his hands resting at the curve of your lower back as his head barely slid over your soaked slit, prying a raspy moan out of his throat that sounds almost painful. Still, even when you slid your hands around his shoulders and intertwined your fingers behind the nape of his head, he didn’t move further. 

“What are you waiting for?” You breathlessly asked, arching your back towards him with a huff just for him to move his hips away, escaping your touch, trying to regain some control over himself. 

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” He muttered. Shit. Not right now. Out of the whole night, he had to choose this precise moment? No. He hurt you. He owed you. And now it was his turn to shut up and take it. 

Taking advantage of his low guard, you hooked your feet behind his back and roughly pulled him towards you, another needy moan escaping your lips as you felt him right at your entrance, whatever remaining reluctance keeping him from sinking into you. It took every ounce of willpower to keep yourself from begging. 

“Alright,” He finally says, his hands sliding under your thighs to hold you firmly in place, “If this is what it takes for you to listen to me, bonita, así le vamos a hacer entonces.” 

He accentuated his words by slamming into you and immediately picking up a maddeningly fast pace, the loud music outside hopefully drowning out your endless string of broken moans. 

“I just…wanted you to be happy,” He spoke in a strained voice in between thrusts. 

“Shut up,” You snapped at him. You were happy. And it did nothing but further enrage you to see he was unaware of how miserable you were now without him. Or maybe he was aware because he reached that spot that always made your legs uncontrollably quiver and focused all his energy on it as if he was trying to make up for everything. 

“I love you,” He blurted out as he felt you clenching around his length, his hips stuttering for a second before the sigh that left your lips made him lift your leg further up his torso and slam into you with renewed fire, “God, (Y/N) I love you so much, I can’t do this anymore,” 

“Shut up,” You sobbed, this time as a plead and not an order. Your heart fluttered as you heard the words you’d waited months to hear, and feeling him roughly stroke your walls at this new angle became too much for you to bear. A string of ‘shut ups’ and sounds that resembled his name left your lips as your hands fell to his stomach, trying to push him away while paradoxically needing him to be closer, needing to feel more of him just in case this was the last time you felt him stretch you out in a way you were hauntingly certain nobody else would ever come close to. 

And he wasn’t doing any better. He wanted to pull your head against his chest and wrap his arms around you. He wanted to get on his knees and spend the rest of the night apologizing using his words or his tongue, whatever you wanted as long as you went home with him that night. He wanted you to live a happy, normal life. He couldn’t give you that anymore. Not after that night. Not after the accident. 

But those bad thoughts melted away in his brain when he saw your eyes pressed shut, your beautiful, furrowed eyebrows arching over them perfectly as you chased that high that Miguel knew only he could give you. Something that sounded like an actual sentence left your lips so quietly that he had to lean closer to get it. 

“What was that, bonita?” 

You pressed your lips together, unwilling to repeat yourself until another perfectly calculated thrust pried the half-coherent words out of your mouth. 

“Need you…inside. Please, Miguel, please,”  

Hearing his name being called out like that for the first time in months was all he needed to come undone, his pace faltering as he pressed himself against you, strong arms gripping your waist as he spilled his load inside you with one last labored moan. 

Nothing but extenuated pants could be heard inside the bathroom for a whole, tense minute before you finally moved, taking a few sheets of paper from the dispenser next to the sinks to clean yourself up. 

“What are you doing?” He asked as you straightened your dress and tried to somehow fix your disheveled hair. 

“You wanted to apologize, you did, and I forgive you,” You categorically answered, “But don’t expect me to come running back into your arms as if what you did was nothing,” 

Still, you needed him to know there was hope left for the both of you. So you pressed a chaste kiss to his lips and then his cheek, granting yourself one moment of vulnerability as you looked into his eyes with a gentle smile. 

“I love you too,” You whispered, giving in to the urge to kiss him again. You basked in his shocked look before turning your back to him and going back to the party, where you bumped into Liz less than five minutes later. 

“There you are! Where the hell were you? You missed the countdown!” 

It wasn’t until you looked around at the confetti-filled floor and the large numbers on a screen that you remembered. 

“I went to the bathroom,” You replied, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and reaching out to take a glass of champagne from one of the several trays atop the tables, “Where did your friend run off to?” 

“David?” Liz asked, a deep red blush spreading over her cheeks, “He had to go home. I hope you don’t mind, but we’re getting dinner next Friday,” 

“Don’t mind at all,” You replied with a bright smile, eyes already scanning the half-empty club, once again looking for that same face. The one you knew you’d always look for in a crowd for the rest of your life. This time, thanks to the small number of people left, it wasn’t hard to come across his eyes. Amused, you raised your glass at him with a soft, genuine laugh. He did his best to look annoyed, but the minute you tilted your head and gave him your best apologetic look, Miguel rolled his eyes and shook his head with a reluctant smile that made you laugh again before taking a sip of that cheap champagne. 

This was going to be a great year.

#miguel o'hara x female reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara #spiderman atsv #atsv x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara fanfic

[hxzbinwrites]

Yayyy! Vox was who I wanted to make a request for so I was thinking what if female reader is an overlord who deals with weapons that can kill sinners and hellborn. Maybe she is also an owner of a nightclub? maybe she died in the 1920s and she knew Alastor as well and maybe she’s had a crush on him but he’s not interested in her so then she goes and she dates Vox but then she catches him positioned with Val and she doesn’t know the extent how Valentino is abusing Vox so then fast forward 7 years later and they meet again because she’s helping Alastor and of course that makes Vox jealous and angry and Vox just wants her back and he’ll do anything to show her that he changed and he just wants her back. And maybe he explains how Val treated him and then a happy ending heheh. 🤭 I love your stories. Also maybe reader is badass and is like doesn’t need a man because she got herself but she also loves when Vox protects her? Kinda like that song on TikTok from Olivia Rodrigo that goes “I’m a feminist obviously but I wouldn’t really mind him saving me”

Vox x Fem! Overlord! Weapons Dealer! Reader | Stayed Gone

(A/n): IM BACCKKKK!!! Sorry this is kind rushed, but it was a really fun write!!! I’m promise I’ll get working on more requests but i’m gonna take it easy to slide back into writing after my little break! Thank you to all of those who supported me through this!! ❤️❤️

Warnings ⚠️: Cussing, Vox is OOC, Cheating, Violence, Short (sorry :( )

“YOU SON OF A BITCH!” (Y/n) said, throwing a wine glass across the room, particularly aiming at the TV who was caught in the act with a certain moth.

“(Y/n), babe, ‘ts not what it looks like I swear-“

“Oh really?” She said, a venomous lilt in her voice,”cause right now it looks like you’re getting screwed by your little business partner? Huh? Am I not right on the money sugar? Oh, but where’s that little sarcastic buzzer now?!”

Vox slipped his pants on, zipping up his fly while trying to walk towards (Y/n)

“I swear, you’ve got it all wrong. I’m..this isn’t…we’re not…”

“Save it.” She said,”This, us, is over. Our business deal is over. And if you even try to negotiate or give me some shitty excuse, this little turf you have will belong to my empire and become my next factory.”

Vox was left, standing here, shirt off and wrinkled pants on, watching as the love of his life took the bare necessities and walked out of his life, all while Valentino watched and smirked at the sight.

—————

7 Years Later

“THAT FUCKER IS BACK!!” Vox screamed, his fists slamming down on the table. A month before (Y/n) walked out, the infamous Radio Demon went MIA, and has now returned to the scene, alongside the Princess of Hell, Charlie Morningstar.

“Yeah” Valentino said, in a sultry voice,”I thought he was gone for good too”

“It’s been seven years!” Vox huffed, turning away from the screen, missing a very crucial person who just walked outside to scope the situation of the attack on the hotel.

“You still pissed he almost beat you that time, right before your little angel walked out~?” Valentino teased, rubbing Vox’s digital cheek on his screen, causing a squeegee noise to be emitted

“Uh, fuck you!”

“Just saying!”

“Things have changed a lot since they both left town!”

“That’s for sure”

“I gotta send a message to who’s, really in charge of things now!!”

“Welcome home, I’m gonna make you wish that you’d stayed gone! Say hello, to a new status quo. Everyone knows that there’s a brand new dawn, turn the TV ON!!!”

“Top of the hour, and we’re discussing a certain ‘has-been’ who has been spotted cavorting around town after a seven year absence! Did anybody miss him? Did anybody notice? More on tonight’s program!”

“So the Radio Demon is back in town! Why’s he hanging around? What does that mean for your family? Well handily I’ve got good news, he’s a loser, a fossil, and I don’t mean to sound hostile, but the demon is a coward!”

“You can take that as gospel! Pulling my viewers? Impossible. I’m visual, he’s barely audible! Stop giving him the time of day, don’t listen to a word he’d say! I hope he had a nice vacay, but he should’ve STAYED AWAY!”

“While he rid in radio, we’ve pivoted to video! Now his medium is getting bloody rare!! Hell’s been better since he split! Where’s he been? Who gives a shit!”

“Salutations! Good to be back on the air~!” A familiar, static filled voice responded.

“Yes I know it’s been a while, since someone with style, treated Hell to a proper broadcast. Sinners rejoice!-“

“What a dated voice!-“

“Instead of a clout-chasing, mediocre video podcast-“

“C’mon!”

“Is Vox insecure? Perusing allure? Flitting between this fad and that, is nothing working?”

“Ignore his chirping!”

“Everyday he’s got a new format!”

“You’re looking at the future, he’s the shit that comes before that!”

“Is Vox as strong as he purports? Or is it based on his support? He’d be powerless without the other Vees!”

“Oh please!”

“And here’s the sugar on the cream, he asked me to join his team! I said no, stole his girl, and now he’s pissy, that’s the tea!”

“WHAT?! YOU OLD-TIMEY P-PRICK, ILL SHOW YOU SUF-UF-FFERING!!!!”

“Uh oh, looks like the TV is buffering” A new voice said, mocking Vox’s breakdown. Except it wasn’t a “new” voice, it was (Y/n). (Y/n), with Alastor, at the Hazbin Hotel.”

“ILL DESTROY-Y YOUUUUUU”

“I’m afraid you’ve lost your signal” Alastor said, taking the mic back before finishing his number.

“Let’s begin~”

“I’m gonna make you wish that I’d stayed gone! Tune on in! When I’m done, your status quo will know it’s race is run! Oh this will be fun!”

Vox could hear Alastor laughing alongside (Y/n) in the background, as his monitors start to flash “no signal”

“FUCK!” He whines

————

The gang was all downstairs, Charlie explaining what tomorrows fun activity would be when a loud banging was heard on the door.

“A NEW GUEST!!” Charlie squealed, stars in her pupils, as she ran to go open the door, only to be met with a very tall TV Overlord.

Alastor’s antlers shot out of his head while (Y/n)‘s weapons were at the ready.

“I come with no harm!” Vox said, raising his hands, before locking eyes with (Y/n). His digital eyes made little heart pupils before blinking them away, embarrassed.

“(Y/n)…” he breathlessly said,”I-I know you hate me…but please, I-“

“Save it Vox.”

“I wish I could explain to you that night, or even today, but I can’t! This….deal has my lips sealed shut my love-I mean (Y/n). I-I just…I cannot explain myself with this contract I have.”

“Wait” Angel Dust said,”You’re Valentino’s little situationship, right?”

“If that’s what you wanna call it….”

“Wait….oh shit” Angel said, walking over to him,”I…I know what it’s like…”

“I know…I see you around his studio…I’m not above owning souls, I have my own, but to work with him…? I’d…..I’d free you all in a heartbeat….”

“Vox?” (Y/n) said,”are you in some sort of deal with Val over your…body.”

Vox could only look at her, not able to give her any conformation.

“Oh Vox…I…I didn’t know…I-“

“I know dear…” Vox said, smiling sadly,”but you have a erm….partner, of sorts, not your finest option but whatever, now and I wouldn’t want to intervene-“

“Oh Alastor? Me and him aren’t in a relationship” (Y/n) replied,”You know him, Mr. Ace in the Hole!”

“A what now?-“

“Ohhhhh, that…that explains so much.” Vox said, looking at the Radio Demon.

“Vox…I-I think we need to go home, talk about this in private….after I squish a bug.”

“Okay…” Vox said, holding (Y/n)‘s hand,”but what about this hotel?”

“I’ll still work here, with everyone, I believe in the cause. I just didn’t think you’d want to.”

“Maybe I can….put some ads on if you’d like-“

“YES YES YES PLEASE THANK YOU MR. VOX SIR ID REALLY APPRECIATE IT!!!” Charlie said, shaking Vox’s other hand,”IM CHARLIE!!”

Vox smiled, a genuine smile for the first time in a while,”Yeah, yeah I think I need to hang here a little more often…detox a little…”

“Good, I can’t have you stressed out too much, I just got you back.” (Y/n) said, rubbing his digital cheek affectionately,”my little trophy husband”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin #hazbin hotel spoilers #hazbin hotel x reader #hotel hazbin #hazbin hotel fandom #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin vox #vox x reader #hxzbin #hxzbinspeaks #hxzbinwrites #vox hazbin hotel #vivzieverse #hazbin hotel vox #vivziepop #the vees x reader #vee #hazbin hotel vees #the vees #the vs #hazbin x you #hazbin x reader #hazbin x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hôtel #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x oc

[devilfic]

I was wondering if you have any hcs for a jealous Selina Kyle? Thank you!

(gn reader please)

❝jealous!selina kyle❞

pairing: zoe kravitz!selina kyle x gn!reader. cw: best friends to lovers, roommates to lovers, jealousy, possessive selina, she's a little toxica but she's too pretty to be mad at about it, author's taste in women is showing, knives, brief mention of childhood bullying. words: 2.6k.

my god, do I ever

first of all, selina wants you to know that she is NOT the jealous type. how could she be? it wouldn't be... befitting of a woman who likes to stretch her legs and coil her tail ‘round whoever she pleases, whenever she pleases

as an orphan who has owned so little, she has evolved past jealousy, past watching the pretty girls with the happy families buy them everything they want

when she wants something, she takes it. and when it's hers? it's hers

so what's there to be jealous of? she gets everything she wants. and if someone tries to take her things... well. god forbid

you knew this, growing up with selina in the system. she had been in plenty of fights with the sniveling little boys who'd pull her hair and steal what little she could get her hands on

but what little she did have, she shared with you

you always felt a sense of pride at being the exception for selina, the only one she'd let get close

you were practically a part of her, joined at the hip everywhere you went. you didn't need to ask for she'd give you everything if she could

as you both got older, selina got faster

when those same sniveling boys would try to take her things, they'd wake up with pin needles in their boots or bleach in their soap bottles

they'd stopped messing with her pretty quick, but it also put selina in the hot seat with the wardens at the orphanage

by 13, selina was on the streets. she'd threatened you not to follow, told you she'd make a real life for herself, and it took all there was in you not to beg her to stay

but she'd sneak through the gates to see you in the courtyard, hiding and giggling in the tree branches together until the sun set

she'd walk you home from school and you'd share your leftover lunch with her (because it wasn't "worrying" about her if you ate too, it was just two friends shoveling cookies in each other's mouths and laughing all the way home)

by 16, selina was working at bars and nightclubs with fake IDs that promised she was 21

you told her how grown she looked in all that makeup and how she reminded you of those supermodels with their sultry bedroom eyes

and when all was quiet, she would sneak in through your dorm window and climb into bed with you, eyes still caked in glitter and lips still glossy red

and you couldn't help but get a little shy when she would kiss your cheek goodbye before sneaking out at sunrise

by 18, she had secured the keys to her first ever shitty apartment, and hadn't let you spend a day out in the real world before asking you to move in with her

and ever since, you have been selina kyle's one and only roommate

if you didn't count the cats

selina never really made it out of the club scene. she'd bounced from bar to bar and eventually landed at the iceberg lounge, her best-paying gig yet

but it also left you coming home right as she was leaving, only ever having the time to hug each other goodbye before you were forced to eat dinner alone

you'd always hoped that with you helping out on rent, selina could finally get a better job. somewhere sleazy dropheads weren't constantly trying to cop a feel

but she had her reasons, and she promised she’d never bring any of it back home to you

the extent of her nightlife, as far as she let you know, was her one little secret. you knew the lounge was teeming with unseemly types, and whatever happened behind closed doors wasn't exactly legal

and the other stuff—the things she did that covered the other half of her rent?—the less you knew, the better

what she did share were the dates

and selina dated. of COURSE she dated. she’d sometimes come home at 4 in the morning and you’d wake up, a light sleeper when she wasn't around, and she’d kick off her heels and slither into bed behind you and reprimand you for asking about her date when you’ve got to be up for work in 2 hours. but she’d tell you anyway, spinning hilarious webs about the strange people she let spend their dime on her

and you’d nod off in her arms as she sung you dreams of lobster takeout she made her date buy you in the fridge, promising to make you coffee before you headed off to work in the morning

and if you were to ask her the next day about her date, she’d blink and ask, “who?”

it really wasn’t a surprise to you how desired selina was

even in the orphanage, she'd been popular. you yourself had been entranced by her plenty of times before, and selina would tell you a million times how many street rats she'd had to turn down over the years because they got a little too attached

if you asked her if she’d ever commit to anyone tho, she'd just smile, “we both know you're the only one who can pin me down”

you didn't want to admit how often you'd imagined doing just that. and other things

you, on the other hand, have been in a constant struggle to hold down a real relationship

most of your prospective dates were kind, maybe a little awkward

but they also never went anywhere

you blamed it on the nature of gotham, a loveless city that made it hard to hold onto something sweet when the next minute was rarely guaranteed

you never came home from your dates with lobster or funny stories, just snuggling into selina’s open arms and swearing you didn't want to talk about it

you’d asked selina once, a little drunk on sadness, if you’d ever find someone to love you

and she’d taken your chin into her hand, forcing you to look her in the eyes, and told you very seriously, “I love you, and none of these bozos know what they’re missing out on.”

and then, quietly, when you had tucked your head back into her chest to hide the way her words had turned you to jelly, added on, “but I can’t say I hate having you all to myself.”

you hadn’t known then, but she really meant that

selina would continue to go on dates and bring you back gifts—things that were intended for her but she always insisted you have. it had weirded you out wearing the pretty bracelets and rings and more that her one-and-done dates would buy her, even more so when she would insist on you wearing them to work or on nights out on the town

but she always got this proud look in her eye when you would show off her gifts

borderline... hungry, even

god forbid if it was a piece of clothing, some piece she'd bought for you on a poor sap's black card during a shopping spree

she’d drape herself against the couch and command you to walk for her in your little living room, her hand brushing your thigh or waist as you pass her by, her eyes glinting as she would order you to twirl or pose or stand utterly still as her fingers drag up your silhouette to examine… something

or she’d come up behind you while you were washing dishes, her fingers plucking one of the rings she'd given you off the kitchen sink and admiring the little soap suds bubbling on the gem, murmuring something about how she should really get on top of dishes more often

or how she’d kiss your ear after climbing into your shared bed for the night, resting her hand on your hip where her fingers would just brush the waistband of your underwear

honestly, it was really hard to remember she wasn’t your girlfriend sometimes

after one too many internal what-are-we’s, you’d vowed to secure yourself an actual partner

and funnily enough, that was all it took

this date was smart, funny, a good listener, and definitely hadn’t killed anyone before

one uncertain date turned into two shaky dates turned into three hopeful dates turned into a month of steady dating

you could see the surprise in selina’s eye whenever you'd tell her that yes, you were going out again and yes, it was still the same person

but then she’d always wish you good luck, promise to break their knees if they broke your heart, and stand alone as you bolted off to see your new not-quite-something-just-yet

morning chats over coffee about the neighbors or the strays selina let wander in through the fire escape turned into "they're just so sweet" and "I really want you to meet them, selina" and "don't you have work in twenty?"

of course she'd grin and bear it when you talked about them. of course she'd pretend it didn't bother her, even if the cats would scamper away from her caress at the mention of your new... thing

you: and they’re really outdoorsy, they promised to take me on a picnic upstate whenever we got time off from work

selina: I bet you’d love that :) too bad your allergies are so sensitive :)) maybe I should take you on a rooftop picnic one day instead :)))

you're always going on and on about how she should meet them, but she never commits to a solid date

but she does want to know everything about them. not their interests or aspirations, but the things that even you wouldn't know

and although she’d never tell you this and you’d never find out, sometimes when you leave for those dates, she breaks into their place

it started out as a necessary precaution, something she told herself she had to do to protect you

there were sick people out there. selina knew that best

but god, if you found out, she wouldn't hear the end of it

it's that little part of her that she keeps secret from you. for your own good

and this too, snooping around your date's bedroom, was for your own good

checking their passport against a list of gcpd's most wanted was for your own good

staying up for you with her hand flicking their butterfly knife back and forth as you tumble through the front door, giggling and- she realizes then that you're not alone. they're here too

the two of you freeze in the front door where selina watches from the couch

"shoot, selina. I thought you had work tonight?"

she eyes you and your meek expression, then the equally bashful look on your date's face. she adores shy on you, adores it even more when she's the reason why, but them... "got off early. hope I'm not... interrupting"

but selina panics through all her bravado, imagines what would have happened had she not been here. would your date have coaxed you to the bedroom—your bedroom—and laid you down, kissed your neck where selina kissed you when she was feeling playful?

or would they have let you straddle them on the couch where selina sits now, windows wide open because they were just so smug that they were taking you from her so easily-

she clears her throat, shoves that thought away lest it get the better of her, and smiles

you look nervously between your date and selina, then very gently tell them that you'd probably have to rain check the rest of the night. you even insinuate to try their place next time, and selina imagines them kissing you on their sticky futon and... oh god, she's gonna lose it if she isn't careful

your date smiles and nods, shrinks back a little when selina rises abruptly to follow them out, and that's when your date notices the knife in her hand still being flicked between her fingers to the rhythm of her pounding heart

"oh, cool. I have a butterfly knife too! you're pretty handy with that." your date praises, sounding a little... shocked

selina smiles tighter, "yeah? you do?"

your date laughs nervously, "almost exactly the same, actually. I-I got it in college. I'm not as skilled as you, though. that one actually looks a lot like the one I have back at my place. that's such a... funny coincidence."

and it's really too much, but when selina thinks back on this moment, she will never truly forget the look in their eyes when she stabs the blade into the door frame right beside their head

if they weren't a little scared of her before, they were now

selina leans in and lets her hand drop from the hilt, "yeah, funny."

your date doesn't look at the knife, or selina, before wishing you a goodnight and bolting down the hallway

"selina, what the hell was that?"

"nothing! nothing. I was just... playing around. I didn't think they'd piss themselves."

you narrow your eyes at her, "you expect me to believe you didn't know what you were doing?"

"well, if they scare that easily, I'd rather them not be around you anyway"

"selina."

"I mean, come on, pet. I've looked after you since we were kids and you expect me to let just anybody come take you away from me?"

"...selina."

"and I don't care if you've found someone—I couldn't care less, really—but at the very least pick someone with some teeth-"

in her pacing, you catch selina by the wrist and cage her against the kitchen countertop just to force her to look at you, your voice dropping to whisper her name, "selina?"

and she just. cracks

her eyes are wet with frustration and she doesn't want you to see, doesn't want you to see her laid bare so suddenly because she'd always thought.... well, she'd always imagined that this would go a little smoother

dinner over candlelight, rented out restaurant just for the two of you, wine and feeding you expensive sweets and every ruby and emerald and pearl she'd ever bought adorning you. making you shine in her fantasies like a bright light blotting out that nasty little speedbump of a wimp you called your date-

she pushes her lips against yours to stop the spiral, and because you look so pretty that it hurts to look at you for too long and not kiss you

it's quick. a peck, really

she does it to quell the raging storm of desperation in her but when she pulls away and your lip is wet from her kiss, the desperation swells all over again

you look like you're trying to process all those years of friendship, "playful" kisses, touches that you weren't supposed to think twice about

"you... but you... all those dates..."

selina shakes her head, and somehow admitting who she's been every night since she was 13 is a lot less scary compared to her heart bursting in her chest, "did you really think... all those gifts were for me?"

everything did always fit just a little too perfectly on you

you melt into her, dropping your head on her shoulder with the weight of the truth and you feel her laugh and hold you close by the waist

you press your burning face into the crook of her neck, "I never thought... I mean, I'd always kind of hoped that you... that you might feel the same. I'd just assumed I wasn't your type."

you feel her nails glide up your spine, dragging up your neck and causing you to full-body shiver, "baby, you are the type"

"so, the dates weren't real?"

"a few were. not all of them"

"how'd you afford all that stuff, then? penguin can't pay that well"

selina's nails pause in their caressing of your neck

you peel back some, waiting for her reply

gently cupping your throat, selina smiles innocently, "you're into leather, right?"

taglist: @yikes-buddy @alexxavicry @theclassicvinyldragon @marina-and-the-memes @angxlictexrs

#selina kyle x reader #selina kyle headcanons #selina kyle scenarios #selina kyle fluff #selina kyle fic #selina kyle #catwoman x reader #catwoman headcanons #catwoman scenarios #catwoman fluff #catwoman fic #catwoman #dc #mjwrites

[devourable]

☹ the alt kids

sfw | tags : poly!nb!yans x gn reader (only prn used for reader is ‘you’), obsessive thoughts, slight manipulation, mentions of drinking

listen,,, i know melchior / nb demon yan beat these three in the poll but im itching to write about them. this goes out to my friend who wants to get piped by faust + lolita anon. love yall mmmmwah

also for reference, faust is they/he, delta is they/them, and anton is he/she/they !

please rb to support me 🫶

the alt kids were notorious for seeking out club newbies to play with. it was just something they did.

there was just something so adorable about the way someone totally out of their element dipping their toes into their scene! and the three had made it clear that fresh meat was off limits to anyone but them.

it was a simple cycle — someone new would enter the club, they'd swoop in and show them a good time, take them home at the end of the night if they're lucky, and repeat.

they thought it'd be no different when you came along, but...

oh, how wrong they were.

see, faust could practically feel the inexperience dripping off of you the moment you entered the nightclub.

all on your own, your eyes wide as you took in the flashing lights and loud music, the way you cautiously stepped around the sea of dancing bodies in attempt to find some place you could fit in comfortably? definitely another cute little freshie that'd soon join their ranks.

but faust didn't account for the zip of heat that ran through his body when you and him locked eyes from across the club. he didn't expect the unfamiliar feeling of his heart racing, a feeling only comparable to how he felt when he saw his partners — but why was it so much stronger? and when you offered up a shy little smile and averted your gaze, it damn near knocked him back.

who were you?

they had no clue, but they knew one thing. they needed to leave this club with you at the end of the night.

so faust all but ran to your side, appearing by you before you had even noticed their approach. god, you were even cuter up close... the way you looked up at them made their heart want to leap from their chest!

but they kept their cool. faust introduced themself, commenting on how they noticed you from across the bar and how they couldn't just let a sightly little thing like you venture around all on your own. the club could be so intimidating for newcomers — dangerous, even! but you didn't have a thing to worry about with them by your side.

they loved how demure you were, how you held your heating face when he complimented you, how you tried to wave off their advances but seemed to enjoy it just a bit too much to wave them off. were you intimidated by them? or… did you like them back? they wish they knew!

so you joined them, and accompanied them to the bar.

it was there you met one of their partners — a startlingly tall, reserved goth. you saw him well before you even got to the bar! between the major size difference, her icy gaze, and seemingly disinterested demeanor, it was safe to say you were intimidated. so you were incredibly surprised when faust strutted right up to them, pressed a kiss to his cheek, and waved you over to meet her. and it surprised you even further when they took one of your hands in theirs, pressed a kiss to your knuckles, and introduced themself after studying you silently.

unbeknownst to you and faust, anton was feeling that same intense fire in his chest that faust got when they first looked at you. he couldn’t help but let his eyes wander over your attire as you gave your name in turn.

you were so small compared to him. as was most other people, but… it was strangely endearing when he looked down at you. it’d be so easy to just scoop you up, wouldn’t it? and you wouldn’t be able to do a thing about it. he kept those thoughts to himself, but they flickered across his mind every time you came enough for him to take in the difference in your sizes.

the pair bought you drinks, got you a nice seat and showered you in attention. chatting you up, complimenting you, practically treating you like you were part of their polycule already. though they never mentioned it, faust and anton knew they had the same feelings towards you. the intense desire to just… have you. and not just for the night, either. you were so much more than all of their previous flings.

then delta came along. petite, sly delta who liked to play coy when it came to those they were interested in. they had pretended to be too busy dancing the entire time before joining their partners and you at the bar, but they were watching. and after witnessing how their boyfriends were all over you for so long, they had to join in. what were you doing to them?

they walked up to the three of you, pointedly looked you up and down, and… they understood in an instant. man, you were a looker! and even sweeter than the usual folk the three would usually play around with. they easily invited themself to the conversation, taking a seat right on faust’s lap and stuck up a chat with you as if they had been there the entire time.

they loved how flustered you were, so overwhelmed by all the attention the three were now pouring onto you. and despite your overstimulation, you were trying so hard to talk to them all anyway. you clearly had no clue what to do, poor thing… they had no choice but to take the lead for you!

“wanna dance? ..no? that’s fine~ let’s get another drink!”

“it’s so loud in here. let’s go somewhere quieter, yeah? i wanna hear that pretty voice more clearly.”

“aww, you wanna leave? you can sober up at our place! it’d be dumb if you got a ticket you could’a avoided.”

“you’ll stay the night with us, won’t you, darling? we’d hate for you to leave us so soon.”

#🕷️ the alt kids #yandere x reader #yandere boy #yandere x you #yandere x oc #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere x darling #nonbinary yandere #nb yandere #trans yandere #yandere girl #lovesick | ocs #yandere #yancore

[theonion]

LOS ANGELES—Awestruck bystanders at a violent police altercation Thursday reported that one local cop looked like John Wick out there with those unarmed kids. “That cop was like, bam! bam! bam! Just one perfect headshot after another,” one onlooker said as fellow passersby standing amid the dead bodies of innocent teenagers agreed that they hadn’t seen somebody mow down their enemies with such calm and precision since the nightclub scene in John Wick: Chapter 4. 

Full story.

[kdramaladies]

#KDRAMAWOMENSWEEK 2024     —March 25th - 31st, 2024

In celebration of Women’s History Month, we invite you to join us for a week of chatting and getting creative about our favourite women of Korean drama and film. @kdramaladies is excited and honoured to host the event this year, and we’re thankful for the efforts of the folks at @undergroundkdrama, @dramaheroine (who also came up with the prompts), @songkangsbottomteethcirca2020, and @gudongmae for hosting and organizing this event since 2015.

Join us in celebrating by creating visual content (gifs, fanart, edits, etc.) or just talking about your favourite kdrama women inspired by the prompts below. Please tag your posts with #kdramawomensweek and/or #kww2024, so they are easier to find, admire, and reblog.

Monday (March 25th): city girls/country girls

This prompt is all about the women who live and breathe the city life, the women who just feel deeply at home in the countryside or those who have made their escape to either the countryside or the city.

Tuesday (March 26th): female president

Where are the women leaders in kdramas??? Choose your favourite female authority figure. If you cannot think of one, choose a female character who you think deserves to be a big mover and shaker or even perhaps elected President.

Wednesday (March 27th): style + her

This is a sequel to the great femininity and her prompt from 2017. This time round, this is all about characters’ fashion style. What does their clothes/make-up/accessories tell us about the character? How does the character use her style? OR female characters with an amazing fashion sense that you love

Thursday (March 28th): a room of one’s own

Women who live alone, female leads’ homes that you love, inspiring bedroom decor or special spaces that the women in your favourite dramas use often.

Friday (March 29th): in defense of the Candy female lead

Here is a space to show love to your favourite candy female leads, also known as Cinderella female leads. If you have no idea what that means, here is a great definition: “A “Candy girl” is described as a woman who has unfortunate circumstances but is 1) hardworking, 2) cheerful, and 3) innocent. The definition also extends to being able to catch the eye of a wealthy man (or men, for that matter). She’s basically Cinderella without the fairy godmother and with a more complicated life.” (Taken from: K-Drama 101: What is a Candy Girl?)

Saturday (March 30th): ladies out on the town

Think of nightclub scenes, big parties, small parties, late night karaoke sessions, elaborate or not so elaborate dance sequences…

Sunday (March 31st): everything everywhere all at once

Actresses who have starred in more than 2 dramas in 2023/2024 OR women with multiple identities-think of past lives,fake identities or body swapping…

Please also feel free to be inspired by the prompts from previous years (2015, 2016, 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020, 2020 Part Deux, 2021, 2022, 2023)

#kdramawomensweek #kww2024 #kdramaedit #kdramanetwork #kdramasource #asiandramanet #dailyworldcinema #femaledaily #dailywoc #dramasource #dailyasiandramas #girlslovenet #udeokmis #samblr #mostlyfate #userkimchi #useryd #syaring #usereda #userxlh

[cuntess-carmilla]

That person also said that caring whether something is Real Goth or not is silly and ykw, I would agree to that IF actual goth music had a fighting chance against everything else that gets constantly mislabeled as goth, but that's just not how it is. Metal, Industrial, and almost any other form of dark alternative music is much more mainstream than goth and we're constantly fighting against honest to God extinction.

It's not that when you go to a night advertised as a goth night you'll hear an equal amount of goth, EBM, Industrial, Metal and Alternative Rock. It's not even that you'll hear most of those other genres and very little goth. I wish!

You can go to any night advertised as a goth night without hearing A SINGLE goth song, from 10 pm to 6 am. And it's not like, a travesty that happens sometimes, it's the norm. The absolute RARITY is going to a goth night that plays a minimum of 45% unquestionable goth music with the rest being debatable or outright not goth at all. I end up jumping in excitement and glee at even the most BASIC goth song being played in a supposed goth night once.

I've said this before but Sisters of Mercy, which pretty much is to goth what Megadeth or Slayer are to Thrash Metal, is touring in NIGHTCLUBS. Fucking imagine Slayer attempting to fit a singular Thrash Metal scene into a small underground nightclub. I saw Two Witches play at a shitty underground BAR. You can argue that they're not as universally liked among goths as Sisters of Mercy and Bauhaus, but they're still legends in the scene who've been active since 1987 non-stop.

The new artists goths get UNIVERSALLY excited for have 55-75k monthly listeners in Spotify at best. Drab Majesty and She Past Away are an exception at... 113k and 223k respectively. Compare that to even Nu Metal revival bands coming out now. Compare that to the most mid Symphonic Metal or EBM bands.

We simply have NO fighting chance if we don't get more territorial and don't literally campaign to not be pushed out and erased. This isn't me bragging; we're a severely underground scene. I wish we weren't! But we are.

Successful goth nights in terms of attendance are PATHETIC compared to the numbers that emo nights pull, and unlike emos, a huge portion of goths actually remain consistently goth throughout adulthood and our subculture is older and more superficially hypervisible. On average goths tend to remain living an alternative lifestyle consistently while most emo adults are at most emo on weekends bimonthly. We either get territorial and firm, or we're fully pushed out and stomped over, and the music we love dies out.

[yourmomsemogarlicbread]

Club Lights And Sex On The Beach

PART 1

Pairings: Josh Kiszka x Reader

Warnings: 18+, alcohol, drinking, one-night stands/hookups, smut, penetrative sex, drunken sex (still consensual), protected sex (don't be silly, wrap your willy!), afab reader, feminine terms of endearment used, pretty much a female reader but you could get away with it not imagining the reader as a woman.

Summary: After a fun night at the club you run into a handsome stranger and his friends. What happens when you end up in his bed?

Authors Note: This is a multichapter series!!!!!!! This is only part 1 but we are gonna get into a full-fledged story pretty soon. I will be posting parts 2 and 3 later tonight because they are both pretty short. If you choose this could be read as a one-shot but I strongly recommend following the series. I hope you enjoy it!!! also, remember that my requests are always open!

you can also read on AO3 here.

PART 2 & 3 out now.

Part 1

The lights came down harshly on your skin, illuminating the dim room just a tad more. The club is decently packed, and a small crowd of people at the beginning of the night quickly turns into a bustling scene full of college girls looking for either a good time or a quick fuck, either way, it’s still fun. Then there were the rowdy frat boys either being annoying or harassing girls at the bar, either way, they were douchebags. 

One type stood out to you though, it was a small group of guys, but they were different. You couldn’t help but notice these men, they were talking with each other at their fancy booth in the back of the club. There were 4 of them, all devilishly handsome you had to admit, but one of them shined particularly bright. You saw him frequent the bar throughout the night, until now. 

You feel a force bump into you from the side, not hard but forceful enough for you to spill a little bit of your drink on the bar. “Oh I’m sorry sweetheart are you ok” you hear from beside you, a charming voice guiding you. And there he is, your mystery man you’ve had your eye on all night. 

“Oh yeah I’m fine don’t worry about it.” You nearly yell above the loud music to him.

“Well it looks like you spilled your drink,” He says, making you look at the reminisce of your drunken reflexes failing you. 

“Don’t worry about it it’s ok” You smile at him, and in return, he looks directly into your eyes. His brown eyes caused a shift in your stomach, piercing your soul while comforting you in a delightful mix of emotions. 

“Well, I can stop worrying about it if you let me buy you a drink.” The clever way to buy a girl a drink. You sigh, “Well crap, I guess I gotta let you buy me a drink now.” You laugh out. “Why thank you,” he says, leaning over the bar and ordering sex on the beach. “Sex on the beach? how’d you know?” he looks back over at you with a smug grin strewn across his face, bewitching you even more. “I saw you ordering it when you first walked in.” Oh. So he was staring at you the whole night, interesting, I guess a smart girl’s intuition never fails. “Well thank you for noticing, Mr-” “Kiszka, but it would be best if you called me Josh.” “Well thank you very much, Josh, nice to meet you.” You smile back at him and for a moment you can feel lust piercing through you like you’ve been shot by Cupid himself. Who knew an arrow through the heart could feel so good? 

The rest of the next 40 or so minutes flew by in a hurricane of lustful glances and drunken introductions set in the brightly dimmed nightclub you found yourself in. Meeting his friends, those 4 guys you kept in mind to be specific. Their names were Jake, who just so happened to be the twin of Josh, (is it bad you’ve always dreamt of having a thing with a set of twins?) and their little brother Sam, accompanied by their friend Danny. And my god were they the epitome of beauty and grace, their suave presence somehow lighting up the dim nightclub. But then the next thing you knew, you were making out with Josh in the back alley waiting for an Uber. 

The ride back to his apartment was tense but uneventful in respect of the poor Uber driver who had probably dealt with enough drunk people tonight already. The sexual tension was overflowing from the backseat where you both resided, his hand on your thigh resting ever so gently with all the passion and care in the world. 

Then the car stopped, his hand quickly unbuckling your seatbelt for you and grabbing your hand, leading you out onto the sidewalk in front of a lavish apartment building, the ones you see celebrities come out of in staged paparazzi photo shoots. You felt his hand snake around your waist leading you into the lobby encrusted with marble and the stench of rich people wasting money because they can. Who were you about to sleep with? God only knows but you know for a fact you got lucky. 

The makeout session in the elevator was heated, so much so that you barely paid attention to the fact the elevator went straight into a hall with only 5 or 6 doors, with Josh leading you down the short hall straight into his apartment, or more so what looked like to be a penthouse. You didn’t get a great look at it though - through the lips on lips and hands and waists it was hard to pay attention to detail. 

He broke your kiss in what felt like hours, arguably the best of your life. You’re led into his bedroom quickly, He playfully drags you into the room, pushing you onto the bed. You spread your legs for him, butterflies swirl in your core. You watch as he starts to slow down, pulling his shirt over his head. He puts his knee in between your legs climbing over you on the bed. Your lips collide once more, desperate and lustful. You moan into it, quickly making work of his pants, pulling them down to his thighs. You can feel him through his boxers, already harder than ever. He slides his hand up your thigh, slowing towards the hem of your dress. He stops briefly, “Can I?” you only respond by lifting your hips and starting to pull it off, he stops you and pushes your hips back down with proximity while pulling it off, throwing it somewhere into the dark room, only lit by the moonlight shining in through the ceiling high window. 

Your body feels like it’s on fire, all you feel is warmth. Josh’s body presses up against yours again, lips and tongues intertwined making your head spiral, hell you had just met this guy an hour ago. This was way more fun than you thought you’d have tonight. A random man named Josh, his 3 best friends are hot - and you got to meet them, this guy is probably rich as fuck, and my god was he good.

He pulls away briefly losing the shorts and boxers. You can see his tip already red and leaking, he leans over you, continuing a loss you had such a brief moment ago. He reaches down underneath your hips and tears your underwear off, throwing it aside. The hold he has on your hips is strong, a sickeningly lustful feeling going straight to your head. He breaks away, “Do you want me to wear a condom?” he asks, almost breathless. “It’d be nice,” you say, catching your breath as well. He smiles and reaches over you to the nightstand grabbing one and tearing it open and putting it on swiftly. You grab his face, pulling him down to kiss you. Josh laughs through the kiss, his chuckle soon turns into a moan as he kisses down your neck. “Can I fuck you?” is all he manages to breathe out. “God, please.” you moan.

Your gut and head both turn to jelly as he enters you, not too slow, not too hard, and not too fast.

God, he’s good.

You feel the vibrations of his moan on your neck, mixed with the vibrations of yours coming from the same source. You can’t help but let it all out, moans and whimpers and all the beautiful sounds of sex fill up this room. His hips are snapping into yours, picking up the pace, brutally. He leans back, never losing stamina. Josh grips your hips, hard enough that you’re sure it’ll leave a bruise. He slides up to your upper thighs, pulling them apart while he kneels in front of you, throwing the back of your knees over his shoulders, making a new angle and another powerful sensation. You feel a coil start to form in your midgut, stronger than anything before it. “Fuck, I’m close-” You’re broken off by another moan escaping you by mistake. You watch as his hips snap back into you over and over, his abs are flexing and covered in a slight sheen of sweat. He takes his thumb and rubs it right underneath your clit, right on the sweet spot that drives you insane. Your orgasm comes crashing into you like a freight train at top speed. You don’t even realize how loud you moan, a headrush almost making you black out. You ride it out, soon coming to, hearing the pretty sound of Josh moaning and letting a slight whimper escape his pretty lips. “Fuck, baby-” he cuts himself off with a loud moan and the stutter of his hips. You feel the warmness in your gut fill you through the latex. He almost collapses on top of you, forearms pressed on the bed bedside. You rest your hands on the back of his neck, slowly caressing him through his post cum clarity. “That was the best sex I’ve ever had,” you admit, and to be completely honest, it was. That had been the best, let alone the best orgasm you’ve ever had. You feel him laugh a little, his head perking up, eyes locking with yours. “Really?” he breathes out, a chuckle leaving his lips, his pretty, pretty lips. God, he was beautiful. “Yes.” You watch as his eyes, seeing the words go straight to his head. “Why thank you, baby, I’m flattered.” he gives you a quick kiss on the lips, a gentle but beautiful gesture.

He slowly pulls out of you, taking off the condom and tying a knot in it. “I’ll be right back,” he gently pats your thigh as he gets up and heads towards the bathroom. Finally, you get the chance to look around and analyze where you are. It’s still dark, the moonlight shining in was still a good enough source though. His bed lies in the middle of the room. His walls are off-white, with unique artwork that just looks expensive. Goddamn, you hit the gold mine in the crowd of the bar tonight. You suddenly hear the bathroom door open back up, looking over you see his stature in the doorway, backlight by the bathroom light. He walks over and comes back up to you with a damp washcloth. “Do you mind if I clean you up?” He asks gently, his voice so calming you couldn’t help but agree to the kind gesture. He takes the washcloth to your upper thighs, cleaning up the stickiness. Gently, with more precision than ever, he glides it over your cunt, making sure not to overstimulate, while also cleaning you well. “Thank you,” you mutter out, now suddenly a bit shy after all is said and done. “You’re welcome, sweetheart,” he says, smiling brightly at you. You watch as he throws the towel in a hamper, turns off the bathroom light, turns back around, and hops back into bed. He offers you to climb under the covers with him, to which you happily oblige.

“Thank you, Josh, this is nice,” you say, making yourself comfortable in his bedsheets. He places a hand on your cheek, leaning on his side to fully lock eyes with you. “Of course, how could I see a beautiful girl like you and not treat her well?” you laugh along with him, thanking him for his kindness. You cuddle into his arms, sleepiness suddenly washing over you. His delightful musk fills your senses, his skin is so soft and gentle. This man is just so…beautiful. And kind. And sweet. And my god you can’t remember the last time, if at all, where you have ever been this happy, especially after hooking up with a guy you met at a bar. Josh brings you in closer, his gentle love lulls you to sleep, as the world around just goes into a comfortable silence.

#gvf #josh kiszka x reader #josh kiszka #greta van fleet #greta van fic #danny wagner #sam kiszka #jake kiszka #josh gvf #gvf smut #jake gvf #danny gvf #sam gvf #yourmomsgarlicbread writes #greta van smut #greta van fleet fan fiction #gvf fic #josh kiskza fanfic #josh kiskza smut #multi chap fic #multichapter