#I was trying to figure out when this fic was set and now that I’ve had the thought how could this not be set in early 2000s

[gingerwerk]

The real reason I refuse to have fics set in current years are so that I can slip in a believable Mapquest direction Snafu if needed

[ponderingmoonlight]

Hello!! I hope you’re doing amazing!!! I really like your megumi works, so id like to request a fic where him and the reader have a very under cover secret relationship and yuji,nobara and gojo try to figure out why fushiguros been acting so weird. I’d love to see it! And more megumi works 🙏🏽. It’s just a request it’s totally okay if you don’t want to!! Hope you have an amazing week!! 💗💗

Okay, I probably never laughed this much while writing a fic lmao, this right here is ridiculous y'all

Keeping your relationship with Megumi a secret until you can't anymore

Pairing: Megumi x fem!reader; pure comedy friendship with Nobara and Yuji lol

Word Count: 3k

Synopsis: Megumi Fushiguro’s secret relationship with you has been going smoothly—until his friends start noticing his odd behavior. Yuji and Nobara grow suspicious, launching a hilariously relentless mission to uncover what he’s hiding, while Gojo sits back, amused by the chaos. Will the two of you finally confess?

Warnings: y'all, I almost died writing this hilarious piece of work lmao, I never praise my own work but that bonus has me rolling, if you're looking for a bandage for your broken heart there it is, fluff fluff fluff

Please let me know what you think! If this does well, I might write some more about the chaotic trio lol

You never thought keeping a secret would be this much fun.

Your relationship with Megumi started quietly, just like most things with him. There was no grand confession, no dramatic kiss in the rain. It was slow, understated, like the way shadows stretch out under the setting sun. You had been drawn into his orbit naturally, like you’d been waiting for it to happen all along.

Still, it wasn’t exactly planned. One moment you were sitting next to each other in silence, and the next you were sitting a little too close. Your fingers brushed. His eyes lingered. The air between you became charged with unspoken things, and soon enough, stolen moments were the only thing keeping you sane. The decision to keep it quiet came easily: neither of you had any desire to deal with the chaos that would break out if anyone found out. And besides, it was kind of thrilling.

But now it’s starting to get tricky.

It’s a normal Wednesday when the subtle shift in the atmosphere begins. Megumi is acting just a little too normal - stiffer, as if he’s hyper-aware of everything. He’s not good at this, at pretending everything is fine when there’s something simmering underneath. And unfortunately, it doesn’t take long for his odd behavior to catch some unwanted attention.

“Hey, Megumi,” Yuji calls from across the room, his eyes squinting suspiciously.

“You’re acting weird. Are you okay?”

Megumi doesn’t even flinch, though his eyes are literally glued to the ground.

“I’m fine.”

That’s it. Flat, simple, closed. He’s good at short answers. It should be enough. It’s not.

Yuji leans over the back of the couch, brow furrowed in confusion.

“No, you’re definitely acting off. You haven’t been sarcastic all morning. And usually by now, you’ve threatened to hit me at least twice.”

Megumi sighs, fingers twitching in his lap, the only outward sign of his discomfort.

“I’m fine, Yuji. Maybe you’re just imagining things.”

Yuji is definitely not convinced. He glances at Nobara, who’s lounging nearby with her arms crossed, already suspicious. She had been eyeing Megumi the second he walked in, catching onto his strange energy faster than Yuji had.

“Yeah, I’ve noticed it too,” she adds, voice sharp.

“Something’s up. You’ve been... I don’t know, distracted?”

“Seriously, I’m—” Megumi starts, but Nobara cuts him off, grinning.

“You’re not hiding anything from us, are you, Fushiguro?” Her eyes gleam with mischief, and you can tell she’s just playing around.

For now.

“Oh, I think I know it!”, Yuji suddenly announces with his arms stretched in the air.

“Do you really, idiot?”, Nobara remarks.

You almost lose your cool, cold sweat dripping down your neck while waiting for Yuji’s next words. He didn’t catch it, did he? Not when you’ve been carefully avoiding being too close to Megumi while they’re around since you first joined Jujutsu High. He simply can’t know it-

Megumi’s eyes flick to you, a barely noticeable glance paired with his reddened cheeks, but it’s enough. Too much. Your heart skips in your chest, and you quickly look away, hoping no one else caught it. But then-

“Oh.” Yuji’s eyes widen in realization, a slow grin spreading across his face.

“Oh, I get it now.”

Megumi’s spine visibly stiffens.

“No, you don’t.”

But it’s too late. Yuji has already decided he’s figured it out.

“You’ve got a crush on someone, don’t you?” Yuji practically shouts, leaning forward in his seat with excitement.

“That’s why you’ve been all weird lately!”

Nobara sits up, clearly intrigued by this new development. “Wait, what? Megumi has a crush?”

“I do not,” Megumi says, but he’s starting to lose his calm now.

You can tell by the way his hand runs through his hair a little too harshly, as if he’s trying to ground himself.

You bite back a smile. Megumi can be as composed as he wants, but when it comes to things like this, he’s terrible at hiding it.

“You’re totally lying,” Nobara declares, standing up and crossing the room to get a better look at him.

“Who is it? Do we know them?”

Megumi groans, pressing his fingers to his temples as if he’s already getting a headache. You’re trying hard not to laugh because if you do, they’ll turn their attention to you. You’ve been careful this whole time to stay out of the line of fire, just a silent observer to this chaos.

But you know it’s only a matter of time.

“I’m not lying,” Megumi grumbles, clearly regretting every decision that led him to this point. “There’s no one.”

It’s almost convincing. Almost.

Yuji leans back, a teasing glint in his eyes.

“Nah, you’re definitely lying. You’re terrible at it. You get all tense, like right now.”

“I’m always tense,” Megumi shoots back.

“True,” Nobara agrees,

“but this is different. You’re acting sketchy.”

Megumi shoots her a flat look, but Nobara only smirks back. She’s having way too much fun with this.

“Is it the one we’ve met at that pizza place yesterday, the one with a big ass and those nice hair?”, Yuji shouts into the conversation.

“The girl from yesterday?”, you repeat before you can stop yourself, arms crossing in front of your tightening chest.

“You guys are gross.”

Megumi’s gaze meets yours, panic shimmering underneath the surface while he fumbles with his own hands.

“What? No! It’s not that one!”

“Oh, not that one, huh? Who is it, then?”

“Fine,” Megumi says, standing abruptly.

“I’m going for a walk.”

Before they can say another word, he stalks out of the room, leaving you alone with Yuji and Nobara. You let out a quiet breath of relief, grateful they didn’t notice you.

Yuji turns to Nobara, eyes wide.

“This is huge. Megumi’s got a crush.”

Nobara hums thoughtfully, rubbing her chin.

“He’s never shown any interest in anyone before. It must be serious.”

“I wonder who it is,” Yuji muses, glancing around the room as if expecting the answer to jump out at him.

Your pulse quickens. If you stay here any longer, you’re going to blow your cover.

“I’m gonna grab some water,” you announce quickly, standing up.

You manage to make it halfway to the kitchen before Nobara’s voice calls after you, filled with sudden realization.

“Wait a minute. You were with him all morning, weren’t you?”

You freeze, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Weren’t you two on a mission yesterday?” Yuji adds, piecing it together far too quickly for your liking.

“And last weekend, too?”

Panic rises in your throat, but you manage to keep your expression neutral when you turn back to face them.

“We’ve just been on a few missions together. That’s all” you say, voice steady.

Nobara narrows her eyes, scrutinizing you.

“Uh-huh. And you didn’t notice him acting weird?”

“Not really. Maybe he’s just worn-out” you lie, doing your best to stay calm.

Yuji tilts his head, still unconvinced but willing to drop it for now.

“Yeah, maybe.”

But Nobara isn’t so easily swayed.

“You sure? Because you’re looking a little-”

“Nobara,” you interrupt,

“you’re overthinking it.”

For a moment, there’s silence. Then, with a final hum of suspicion, she shrugs and lets it go.

But just as you think you’re in the clear, a new voice cuts through the tension.

“Well, well, what do we have here?”

Gojo saunters in, sunglasses perched lazily on his nose, a knowing smirk already playing on his lips. He must have been eavesdropping because he’s grinning like he’s just hit the jackpot.

“Don’t tell me you’re trying to figure out what’s up with Megumi,” he notes, voice dripping with amusement.

“That kid’s an enigma even to himself.”

Yuji perks up at the sight of Gojo, excited to rope someone else into their investigation.

“We think he’s got a crush.”

Gojo pauses, grin widening.

 “Oh, is that so?”

You stand frozen in place as Gojo’s eyes slowly slide over to you, lingering for a beat too long. He knows. You don’t know how he knows, but he knows. He’s always been good at reading between the lines, picking up on things that most people miss. Megumi that traitor, did he really leave you all alone with these two and now even Gojo?

His smirk deepens.

“Well, well, well,” he drawls, leaning casually against the wall, clearly enjoying this far too much.

“I wonder who it could be.”

You’re going to kill Megumi. You’re both dead. This is it. The end of your secret.

But before Gojo can say anything else, Megumi walks back into the room, his expression darkening as he notices Gojo’s presence.

“What are you doing here?” Megumi asks, his voice flat.

“Oh, just catching up with the kids. They were telling me about your little crush” Gojo replies innocently.

Megumi’s eyes dart between you, Yuji, Nobara, and Gojo, clearly calculating his next move.

“There’s no crush,” he replies, exasperation creeping into his voice again.

“Yuji’s just being an idiot.”

“Hey!” Yuji protests, but Megumi ignores him.

Gojo chuckles, pushing off the wall with an exaggerated stretch.

“Well, I think I’ll let you all handle this. Good luck with the investigation.”

He winks in your direction before sauntering out of the room, leaving you tense and trying to avoid Megumi’s gaze.

Yuji and Nobara are still watching him, and you can tell they’re not going to let this go anytime soon.

“So,” Nobara says, crossing her arms. “Are you going to tell us who it is, or are we going to have to follow you around until we figure it out?”

Megumi pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly fed up. “There’s no one.”

“You’re such a bad liar,” Yuji mutters, shaking his head.

Megumi’s about to respond, but then his phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it out, glances at the screen, and his expression softens for just a split second before he tucks it away again.

You know who it is. He knows you know.

You’re barely holding back your laughter at this point, trying to keep a straight face. You can feel the heat rising to your cheeks, and you have to look away before anyone else notices.

But Megumi, in his ever-stubborn way, is still trying to salvage this mess.

“I’m going for another walk,” he announces abruptly, clearly done with this interrogation.

“Uh-huh,” Nobara calls after him, grinning like a cat who just caught a mouse.

“Sure, go clear your head, lover boy.”

You can’t help but chuckle quietly as Megumi shoots you a helpless look before heading out the door.

As soon as he’s gone, Yuji leans over to Nobara, whispering loudly.

“Do you think he’s texting his crush?”

Nobara grins, leaning back in her chair.

“Definitely.”

You bite your lip, doing your best to keep your composure while peeking at your phone.

Sorry for the mess. Meet me later in my dorm?

This is going to get much harder to hide.

Later that night, when you and Megumi finally have a moment to yourselves at his dorm, he sighs heavily, dropping down onto the couch beside you. He looks exhausted, and not just from the missions. The day’s events have clearly taken their toll.

“This is getting ridiculous,” he mutters, rubbing his temples.

You smile softly, leaning into his side.

“It’s kind of your fault, you know.”

Megumi groans.

“I know.”

There’s a moment of silence as you both sit there, the weight of your secret relationship pressing down on you. But it’s not a bad weight. It’s more like a blanket, warm and comforting, something shared between the two of you. Something that’s just yours.

Still, you can’t help but tease him.

“You’re really bad at lying.”

Megumi turns his head to look at you, a small, exasperated smile pulling at his lips.

“Shut up.”

You laugh quietly, resting your head on his shoulder, feeling the tension melt away as his hand finds yours, fingers intertwining. For now, it’s just the two of you, and that’s all that matters.

“Maybe we should tell them,” you suggest softly, half-joking.

Megumi’s body stiffens for a second, but then he relaxes, a soft hum escaping his throat.

“Maybe,” he murmurs, voice low.

“But not yet.”

You smile, content with the secrecy for now. It’s your little world, and as chaotic as it is, it’s yours to navigate together.

And for now, that’s enough.

Bonus:

The decision to finally tell them wasn’t exactly well-planned. In fact, it wasn’t planned at all.

It happened after another long day of training. Yuji had been particularly insufferable, constantly pestering Megumi about his “mystery crush,” while Nobara was fuming over how Megumi wouldn’t let her in on the secret.

You and Megumi exchanged looks all day, the unspoken question hanging between you both: Should we just tell them?

By the time the sun set and everyone was lounging in the common area, the atmosphere was thick with anticipation. Nobara was pacing the room, practically radiating with frustration, while Yuji sat on the edge of the couch, watching Megumi like a hawk.

You were sitting next to Megumi, trying not to laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. You hadn’t expected the pressure to mount like this. They’d been relentless for days now.

“Okay, I’m done!”

Nobara throws her hands in the air, eyes narrowing at Megumi.

“I can’t take it anymore! You have to tell us. Who is it?”

Yuji nods rapidly, his eyes wide and pleading.

“Please, man, just tell us! The suspense is killing me.”

Megumi lets out a long, exasperated sigh. He’s been handling this for a week now, and it’s clearly taken its toll. He shoots you a quick, sideways glance, silently asking for your input.

You shrug with a small smile, mouthing.

“Your call.”

With another sigh, Megumi straightens up and clears his throat.

“Fine,” he says, his voice firm.

“I’ll tell you.”

Both Nobara and Yuji freeze, their eyes going wide with excitement.

“Finally!” Nobara yells, nearly vibrating with impatience.

“Okay, okay. Who is it? Is it someone we know?” Yuji questions, leaning in closer.

Megumi looks at you again, and you give him a reassuring nod.

Then, with a small smirk tugging at his lips, Megumi casually slips his hand into yours, right there in front of them.

At first, there’s silence. Complete, deafening silence.

Yuji’s mouth falls open, eyes flicking between your joined hands and your faces, his brain clearly short-circuiting.

Nobara, on the other hand, just stares. Blinks. Then her hands slowly rise to cover her mouth, her eyes growing impossibly wide.

“Wait—” Yuji finally speaks, voice squeaking a little.

“YOU—YOU AND—”

Megumi sighs.

“Yeah. Me and (y/n). We’ve been dating for a while now.”

That’s when all hell breaks loose.

“WHAT?!” Yuji practically screams, jumping up from the couch and pointing at your intertwined hands like they’re some sort of mythical creature.

“NO WAY! This whole time? You guys were dating this whole time?!”

Nobara just starts shrieking incoherently. It’s a mix of disbelief and outrage, her voice a high-pitched wail as she dramatically collapses onto the couch like she’s been personally betrayed.

“YOU HID THIS FROM US?!” she yells, clutching a pillow like it’s the only thing keeping her grounded.

“HOW COULD YOU?! I THOUGHT WE WERE FRIENDS!”

You burst out laughing, unable to keep it in any longer. Megumi pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly regretting every choice that led to this moment.

Yuji is pacing now, running his hands through his hair, still trying to process everything.

“How did I not see it? I mean, I thought you had a crush, but I didn’t think it was… this!” he gestures wildly between the two of you, eyes wide with disbelief.

“Oh my God!” Nobara yells again, standing up suddenly.

“This is insane! You’ve been sneaking around this whole time? That’s it. I demand details! Right now. How long has this been going on?”

“Yeah!” Yuji chimes in, pointing accusingly at Megumi.

“How did you manage to keep this a secret from me of all people?”

You laugh again, raising your hands in surrender.

“Okay, okay, calm down! It’s been a few months. We just didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”

“A few months?” Nobara shrieks, grabbing Yuji’s arm like she needs to hold onto something before she passes out.

“That’s practically a year in relationship time! How did you keep this from us? I’m so offended right now.”

“I knew you were acting weird!” Yuji exclaims, throwing his hands in the air.

“All those times you disappeared, Megumi! I knew something was up!”

Megumi groans, running a hand through his hair.

“You guys are overreacting.”

“Overreacting? This is the most exciting thing that’s happened all year and you hid it from us! You’re for the streets, Fushiguro!” Nobara echoes, voice high-pitched with disbelief.

Yuji nods, agreeing way too quickly.

“Yeah, we need details. Dates, first kiss, how did it start, everything.”

Before you can answer, a familiar voice interrupts the chaos.

“Oh, you guys are just figuring this out now?”

You all turn to see Gojo leaning casually against the doorway, a smug grin plastered on his face, arms crossed like he’s been watching this unfold for a while.

“What?” Nobara screeches again.

“YOU KNEW?!”

Gojo shrugs like it’s no big deal.

“Obviously. It wasn’t exactly hard to figure out.”

Yuji’s jaw drops to the floor.

“You didn’t tell us?”

Gojo tilts his head, grinning.

“And ruin the fun of watching you two idiots freak out? Why would I do that?”

Nobara looks like she’s about to combust.

“So, you just let us suffer, while you were sitting there knowing the whole time?!”

Gojo shrugs again, completely unbothered.

“You’re welcome.”

Yuji groans, dramatically flopping onto the couch beside Nobara.

“I can’t believe this. I feel so betrayed.”

Nobara crosses her arms, huffing.

“Yeah, same. This is worse than the time Yuji ate my fries.”

“Hey, that was an accident!” Yuji protests.

Nobara glares at him.

“It was not an accident.”

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[katsukistofu]

PLEASE (if you feel like it) WRITE FOR AIZAWA! A SICK READER TROPE MAYBE?

Btw ur fics are so good and are part of the reason why I’ve gotten back into mha <333 I love ur writing style sm and ur hawks fics??? That was amazing

hi my love! thank you so much omg that’s so sweet, i’m happy i helped you rekindle your love for mha again lol! <3

sick (but never of you)

contents ౨ৎ ⋆ s. aizawa x fem reader. fluff. cursing. 997 words ★ your husband insists on taking care of you when you fall ill, despite your protests.

Not this shit again. 

You groan as your eyes flutter open for the second time after you said you were fine, then proceeded to dramatically faint in Shota’s arms in the middle of your patrol and sit up, hurriedly tossing the pile of soft blankets off your body.

You shiver despite the warmth radiating from the heater nearby. Shota must have brought it out for you after getting you home.

“What do you think you’re doing?” 

The disapproving voice of your husband floats over, and there he is, leaning on the doorway with a steaming bowl of something in his hands. You perk up despite yourself. Miso soup? 

“I don’t have time to sleep off a little cold, Shota!” Your arms tremble as you try to force yourself off of the plush king-sized bed. “It’s already past nine, I have to head to the agency.”

“Don’t care, didn’t ask.” Shota wraps his arms around you to trap you in place, ignoring your insistent budging. “You’re staying home today with the cat.”

“But—But they need me…” You weakly mumble in his firm grip. It was no use trying to break free, and you’re not sure if you even want to anymore with how nice he feels against you.

“And I need you here.” His stern gaze doesn’t waver, and his hand guides your head from the back of your hair, which you’re certain looks like a disaster zone right now, to rest on his chest. “It’s my job to make sure you’re safe, happy and healthy.”

Shota brushes a hair from your face and tucks it behind your ear. The little beads of sweat on your skin don’t bother him in the slightest.

“So let me do my job.”

“Are you using your teacher voice on me?” You grumble into the dark fabric of his sleeveless shirt. He smells warm and like all things good, as if he just came out of the shower. 

“I vaguely recall someone commenting that it was ‘hot.” Shota’s gravelly voice teases your ear and his stubble tickles your cheek as he smirks, knowing he’s won the battle when he finally feels you melt in defeat against him. 

He brushes a soft kiss to your forehead. “Stay in bed, sweetheart, I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.” You say in a tiny voice, weakly slumping back into the sheets. 

Shota comes back with a spoon and a folded piece of paper. A hint of a smile tugs at his lips as he holds it out to you.

“Looks like I’m not the only one that wants you to stay home.”

Your eyes widen as you look at the get-well card in your hands.

feel beter soon!! lots of loove, eri it said, with millions of tiny hearts doodled around your name. You choke back a sob as your eyes fall onto the little stick figure drawings of you pushing the little gray-haired girl on a swing set. 

It looked just like the one from the playground nearby that you would often take her to on your days off.

us when youre not sick anymor! :D

“Shota, give me that damn soup.”

He chuckles deeply and scoots closer on the bed to feed you. You squeeze your eyes shut as a sharp throb suddenly pierces through your head.

“The room’s spinning again, that’s not normal is it?”

“No. No, it’s not.” Shota’s forehead creases in concern, bringing the spoon of warm soupy goodness up to your lips while his other hand holds yours.

You part your lips to drink it, letting the rich, comforting flavor of miso spread across your tongue.

Letting out a little sigh of relief, you’re about to lean back before Shota sets the bowl down on the nightstand to prop up the pillows behind you, making sure you’re comfortable before he picks it back up again and holds up another spoonful to your mouth.

“Come on, one more for me sweetheart.” 

“Not hungry anymore,” you huff, turning your head away from his outstretched hand.

He lifts an eyebrow. 

“We can cuddle after you take your medicine.”

“...Can you rub my tummy too?”

“You know I will.”

You sniffle and reluctantly open your mouth to sip a spoonful of the soup once again.

“Atta girl.” Shota smooths a kiss on your forehead, rubbing circles against the back of your hand. 

He reaches over to the nightstand to grab your medicine he picked up from the local pharmacy earlier, and hands a small cup of what he pours to you. 

You grimace at its cherry-colored contents and tilt your head back to drink it in one go like a shot.

“Good job. Now come lay on me.” He didn’t need to ask you twice, but Shota’s hands are already on your waist to gently flip you over him as he takes your previous position on the bed, setting you down to rest your head on your usual spot on his chest.

He strokes your hair gently, arm snug against your back while he presses you to him. “How are you feeling?”

“A little bit better,” you mumble, absentmindedly tracing the outline of his abs under his shirt. It's always been soothing to you.

Shota’s chest rumbles as he lets out a husky laugh. “Are you just saying that so you can keep tracing my abs?”

“Maybe.” You giggle against him, which turns into a cough and he firmly pats your back. His hand slides under your pajamas to rub gentle circles on your tummy like he promised. You softly squeal at the ticklish feeling of his hard-earned callouses against your skin, and Shota tenderly kisses your cheek once, twice.

All your senses are numb, but you can still feel the overflowing love behind them.

“Go to sleep, sweet girl. I got you,” he murmurs into your hair.

“Okay.” You comply easily this time, nuzzling deeper into his chest. “Goodnight, Shota.”

“Goodnight, angel. Love you.”

“Love you too,” you mumble before drifting off to sleep in the safety of his warm arms.

Maybe being sick wasn’t all bad.

[daydreams-after-dark]

Free Use Jail Cell, Part 1

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Police Officer Skz ot8 x female reader

Premise: you're arrested and held for 24 hours by 8 police officers at the local police station / reader has her fantasy play out.

Word Count: 3k (part 1)

Chapter Summary: Officer Seo Changbin arrests you and has some one on one time with you before taking you to the station. You meet the other officers. (This chapter is Changbin focused, but a little bit happens at the end with the other officers.)

a/n: This fic will be in multiple parts because I get too impatient not to share what I’ve written so far. There will be two, possibly three installments turns out it will be more like 6 (tag list is open).

I refer to the officers as “Officer Hyunjin”, “Officer Minho” etc just to make it quick to identify the characters. 

The whole premise is planned and explained in the fic. The story is purely fantasy, but please be mindful of content warnings, as it has potentially triggering content. I want you to be safe here on my blog.

CW: planned fantasy role play, police arrest, nudity, unprotected sex in a semi public space, pain kink, roleplay pain, anal play, blow jobs, cum eating, name calling (both praising and degrading), reference to sexual acts, imprisonment, restraints (handcuffing).

🚨🚨🚨🚨

The lights of the police patrol car reflect in your rear view mirror, signaling for you to stop your car.

“Dammit.” You sigh as you pull your car over to the side of the road.

You watch in your side mirror as a police officer emerges from his patrol car, and your heart rate increases when you see the well built figure approach your window. 

“Everything okay, Officer?” You say innocently.

“I’m gonna need you step out of the vehicle, Ma'am.” He says sternly.

“But I wasn’t speeding.” You protest as he opens your car door and pulls you out.

“Ouch! You’re hurting me!” You writhe against him, but he’s too strong.

“No. But you’ve just resisted arrest, so you’re in big trouble little bunny.” He slams you front first against the side of your car and proceeds to handcuff your hands around your back.

“You’ve got the wrong woman, Dude!” You cry.

“That’s Officer Seo Changbin, to you.” He tears you away from your car abruptly and tugs you towards his police car. “In.” He throws you in the back of the car like a rag doll.

“But my car!” You wail, as he slams the door and hops into the driver’s seat.

“Shh. It’ll be impounded. Now not another word.”

“But you haven’t read me my rights! You can’t do this!”

But Officer SEO Changbin ignores you as he drives away.

After half an hour of you demanding he explain what you’ve actually been arrested for, and half an hour of being met with silence, Officer Changbin pulls off the main road and parks his car in a deserted space under a bridge.

Alarm bells go off in your head as you look around. The area is absolutely deserted. You frantically try to formulate a plan to escape. But even if you did escape, you’re fucking handcuffed.

The Officer opens the back door and slips in beside you, holding a tablet and stylus. “Y/n. Twenty five. Female. Submitted a ‘free use jail fantasy’. That is you, is it not?” He quirks an eyebrow at you. 

You stare at the man, but remain silent. Isn’t that one of your rights?

Changbin sighs. “This is your contract. I need you to understand the terms of our engagement.”

He holds the tablet in front of you so you can read exactly what you signed yourself up for. 

I, y/n, agree to being held prisoner in a police station setting, where eight men have the right to use my body how they see fit. This includes: degradation, humiliation, spanking, oral sex, vaginal penetration, anal penetration (includes use of fingers), double penetration, rough sex, use of props and restraints. 

Please read below for further details.

You scroll through the rest of the pages. Details of the acts that may take place, photos of the men and their role, special interests and skills. They are fucking handsome as hell too.

What the fuck have you signed up for? It sounded good in your head. It sounded good when you applied. But now it’s real.. You gulp and look at the Officer. 

“Sign here.” He points to the space at the bottom of page 12.

“Umm…”  you nudge your head towards your restraints.

“Oh yes of course.” Changbin releases your cuffs, opting to secure them in front of you instead. You take the stylus and sign on the dotted line.

You only live once right?

“Great. So as of now you belong to us. Well, for the next 24 hours.” He says matter of fact.

You suck on your lower lip. “So, like right now you could get me to do…things?” You say in a small voice.

“Yes, that’s right. I could instruct you to do things. Or, I could just do things to you. Free use, remember?” He takes the tablet from you and places it next to him in the seat. Your eyes fall on his thick bicep and you feel an ache between your legs. He sits back, slouching against the backseat, and his eyes drop to your bare leg.

A heavy silence fills the car. 

Changbin reaches out to squeeze your thigh, just above your knee and you hold your breath as his hand slowly slides up under your skirt.

“Show me your panties.” He whispers, lifting your skirt up. You open your legs for him. 

His plush, pink lips part slightly.  “Take them off.” He instructs.

You shimmy your panties off and wait for your next instructions. 

“Unbuckle my belt.”

The chain of the handcuffs rattling, and his heavy breaths are the only sounds as you bring your hands to his belt. “Uunzip my pants and take out my cock.”

Your heart begins to race, and your mouth becomes dry, as anticipation and fear bubble in your stomach. Your fingers shake as you unzip his fly and pull his length through the opening of his boxers. Fuck, he is so thick. Your eyes flick up to his.

“Suck it.” He says, staring at you.

You take a deep breath and bring your mouth closer to the fat tip, wondering you you’d even be able to stretch your mouth around it. You kiss the slit. Changbin hisses. “Don’t tease.” He says with a gravely tone. 

You swirl your tongue around the tip, then along the shaft, moistening it up. But Changbin is impatient, and he presses his hand on the back of your head, indicating that he’s had enough of your chaste ministrations.

You stretch your mouth around his girth and sink your head down over him. God, he’s not going to fit. You’re going to choke. 

“C’mon, deeper.” He pushes your head, coaxing you to take more of him. Your eyes immediately water, but you do your very best to suck him enthusiastically.

You feel his hand slide down your back and over your ass. You whimper when he lifts your skirt up and he spanks you on the ass. “Deeper.” He moans. 

You lift off and take a big breath before taking him back in your mouth, forcing yourself to take even more of him. His fingers finds your pussy, sliding them  through your wet folds. He gathers some of your arousal and brings the pad of his finger to your asshole. 

“Hmm… you feel like you’re gonna be so tight. The boys are going to have fun stretching out this little thing. You won’t be able to sit for a week.” He chuckles. 

You moan at the thought, excited to be used.

Changbin’s finger breaches the tight ring of muscle as he presses inside. It’s just to the first knuckle but it’s making you hungry for more.

“That’s enough for now.” He decides, withdrawing his finger and pulling your mouth off his cock. You sit up whining at the loss. “Are we going to go to the police station now?” You inquire.

Changbin scoffs. “Greedy little thing. Can’t wait for what’s in store for you.” He strokes your tear stained cheek. “We’ll go soon. But not until you ride me. Climb on.” He nods towards his cock. “I want first feel of your pussy.”

You straddle Officer Changbin, wrapping your still cuffed hands around his neck, and he holds his cock steady for you as you lower yourself down on him. “Fuck!” You squeak as you feel the tip against your entrance. “You’re so big Officer. I’m not sure I can take you.” 

You swallow, looking into his eyes. There’s lust there. You can see it. He looks like he could hurt you, but there’s a kindness in his expression too, and you wonder if the other men will be like him?

“If you can’t take my cock, how are you gonna take two at once?” He whispers. “Sit on it. I want to feel your walls wrapped around my dick.”

“What if I say no? What happens?” You challenge him.”

“‘No’s not your safe word.” He grips your hips and slowly lowers you down onto his length. “Just keep your eyes on me, sweet thing. Shhh. I know Binnie’s thick.”

You shake your head. “It’s too big.” 

“It’s gonna feel good. I promise. Let me stretch your tight little walls.” He breathes against your cheek.

You feel yourself stretching for him, slowly relaxing to accommodate his size. Inch by inch you feel him fill you. 

“You are tight aren’t you? Fuck, like a vice.” He closes his eyes and tries to steady his breath.

You push yourself down all the way and pause. 

Changbin opens his eyes again and lifts your skirt so he can see where you’re impaled on him.

“See. Look at that.” He says in awe. Your eyes follow his as you lift up slightly and lower yourself again, watching him disappear inside you. 

“Bounce on me. Show me what a good little girl you are, and I’ll put in a good word in my report.”

He digs his hands into your ass cheeks, spreading them and using his grip on them to bounce you.

“I need you to scream for me. No one’s gonna hear you, but I want you to scream your lungs out anyway.”

He grips you tighter, and as though you weigh nothing, he lifts you up and slams you down. You cry out. “Again!” He growls as he slides you up his cock, and drops you back down. “Scream.”

You cry out, screaming loudly.

“Hurts doesn’t it, bunny?” He uses his hips to fuck up into you ferociously.

“N-no…feels goo-”

“Say it hurts. Scream like it hurts.” He growls and throws  you off him and pushes your face into the car seat. He lifts your hips to meet his cock and thrusts into you forcefully. Every thrust is deep and hard. Your pussy feels stretched to its limits. 

He’s relentless, pounding into you harder and harder. The sound of your bodies colliding filling the car. The windows are steamed up, and you're certain the car is rocking wildly.

“Stop… please… too hard…it hurts…” you scream. But you don’t use your safe word. It actually feels incredible.

“Is Binnie too much, hmm? Poor little cunt struggling to fit me?” He mocks you.

You scream louder. He picks up the pace. 

“Fuck…I’m coming!!!” You let out the loudest scream your lungs can muster, as you clench your walls around Changbin’s cock.

“That’s it, so nice and loud for me.”  He helps you ride out your orgasm and then withdraws from your still quivering cunt.

“Good, compliant little bunny. Come, drink up.” He strokes your hair as he helps you turn around so you can wrap your lips around his cock again. He pumps the length a few times until you feel his hot, thick cum coat your tongue. 

“Open. Show me.” The tilts your chin as you present to him your mouth full of semen. “Swallow it up for me.”

You keep your eyes locked on him as you swallow the thick, salty substance, and then open back up to show him.

“Good girl. We need to get you into your cell.” He smirks and gets back into the front of the car.

🚨🚨🚨🚨

It’s almost dark when you get to the police station and you’re feeling incredibly nervous about what lies ahead. 

Changbin helps you get out of the vehicle, leaving your panties on the floor, and escorts you up the front steps of the building. It actually looks like a real police station too, and you wonder how on earth they managed to have access to this place.

The seven other men are waiting for you. They eagerly stand up from their desks as Changbin walks you past until you reach the cell at the far end of the room.

“In.” He grunts, removing your handcuffs and pushing you inside and slamming the door closed behind you. You quickly take in your surroundings. There’s absolutely nothing in your cell except a mattress with two folded blankets on top.

“So this is the sweet thing we have to break?” One of the men jeers. 

“This will be fun.” Another adds.

You turn back towards the men, who are all lined up on the other side of the bars. They watch you. So many eyes. On you. Some look mean. Others look kind. You recognise each of them from the photos, and you know from your research you need to watch out for the ones named Seungmin and Minho. 

“Y/n. Come meet the officers.” The Chef, Chan you believe his name is, says firmly.

You take a step forward.

“No.” He stops you. “First, strip.” 

“Oh!” You squeak. You hesitate. Are you really ready for this? But there’s something thrilling about this situation, and you know, deep down, even though you’re nervous, scared even, you don’t want to stop. Your hands tremble as they grasp the hem of your top and you pull it over your head. Leaving your top half In merely a flimsy sheer bra.

“Fuck. She’s hot.” One of them men whistle under his breath.

“The skirt too..” Chan barks.

“B-but-“ you remember you’re not wearing underwear.

“Skirt. Off. I don’t like repeating myself.” Chan snaps.

You lower your eyes as you peel your skirt down and let drop it to the floor.

“No panties. What a slut.” Minho smirks.

You can feel all eyes on your bare pussy. 

“Look at the officers before you y/n.”

You lift your head and look at the men.  

“For the next twenty four hours these men own your body. They want your cunt? You let them have it. They want to fuck your ass? It’s theirs. They want to take you two at a time? Tie you up, use restraints? You do not resist. They feel they need to punish you? You take it willingly. They want to degrade you, humiliate you?” 

Seungmin laughs at that.

“They can. If they want to treat you nice, be sweet, they’re allowed to do that too. But you don’t come without permission. They control your orgasms.”

Chan basically recites  your submission request back to you.

“Alright. Come forward to meet the officers who will be taking good care of you over the next twenty four hours.” 

You take a step forward. “On your knees.” Chan corrects you.

You drop to your knees, the floor is cold and hard, and you crawl over to where the men wait.

The one named Minho comes forward and presents his erect cock to you, sliding it through the bars. “Come say hello, kitten.” He says coldly.

You look up at him as you wrap your mouth around him, and he immediately takes hold of the back of your head to keep it still while he fucks your mouth. You hear several belts being unbuckled around you.

So this is the introductions then?

“Changbin and I will leave you to it.” Chan informs the group and he and Changbin leave you with the remaining six officers.

From what you can tell from the way Minho holds your head and watches you with intense eyes, is that the man can read your limits. He pushes in just enough to make you gag, but not quite making you choke. His rhythm is smooth and consistent, and when he cums you know he’s holding back a pretty moan. He’s definitely a dom, but one that really understands a sub.

Felix, the pretty and gentle blond, is careful with your face, he doesn’t push too far, and he lets you use your hand on him. But there’s a glimmer in his eye that tells you he doesn’t mind the kinkier side of things, or that he might like seeing you in pain.

Hyunjin. He doesn’t even have to speak and he’s got you blushing. Just the way he’s looking at you, his tongue licking his pretty lips, has you dripping down your legs. The man is beautiful, sensual, and  the way he’s working with you as you work his cock, moving with your mouth and hand, makes you believe he finds sex to be about connection. You’re not entirely sure how that will play out.

Jeongin. Seems sweet and innocent, but his entire expression changes to demonic once his tip hits your throat. You’re not sure what he has in store for you, but you know it’s not going to sweet, and you find yourself imagining all sorts of scenarios with him.

Jisung is next. Confident, demanding with his cock. Mumbles “slut” a few times, and thrusts his hips erratically. He’s unpredictable, and you splutter when he pushes far too deep for you. A flicker of fear and concern crosses his features, and you get the urge to help him stay in the character he’s trying to portray. You moan enthusiastically, and he quickly recovers, fucking you without restraint.

Seungmin is last. He’s cruel with his words, and careless with his thrusts. He’s energy is cold, and you know that if you need to be punished, he’s the guy to give it to you. That is until he comes back with an oversized shirt and a tray of food, and asks you if you have any questions about the agreement.

🚨🚨🚨🚨

You sit alone in your cell and eat your dinner, wondering what the night will hold. You don’t have to wait long though, because Chan is walking towards your cell. 

“Y/n. It’s time for your interrogation with Detective Minho and Officer Seungmin.”

Fuck.

↣↣ up next, interrogation time with 2min here

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[peachdues]

GASOLINE ON FIRE

COMPASS ONE-SHOT • bad boy!Sanemi x Reader

A/N: a one-shot from my bad boy!Sanemi gang AU fic, Compass featuring Sanemi and Reader’s first kiss. It technically happened off-page in the first Chapter, so I thought I’d share it with you all now because I’m such a sap for these two.

CW: 1.7k • MDNI • mentions of explicit sexual content • mentions of masturbation • Sanemi’s been thinking about Reader in fun ways • first kiss • fluff/light angst

READ COMPASS HERE

You’re both seated on your floor, pizza box sitting in front of you, half-empty, alongside a couple of empty, discarded beer bottles.

“I’ve never had sex,” you blurt, prompting Sanemi to choke on his gulp of beer.

“What?”

You pause in bringing your own bottle to your lips to glare at him. “You don’t have to be rude about it.”

“I’m not,” Sanemi wipes his lips. “Who gives a shit about that — I mean, where did that come from?”

You take a long, pointed sip of your beer before setting it back down, drawing your knees up to your chest. “I don’t know,” you shrug. “Isn’t it weird that I haven’t? We’re both twenty-one — but I’ve never even had a serious relationship, much less had sex.”

That surprises him. He’d thought about your days in school more than he’d be willing to admit ever since he chose your bookstore to hide in all those months ago. He’s devoted countless hours to wracking his brain, trying to recall every minute detail about you, in a concerted effort to figure out why the fuck he didn’t approach you sooner.

But he’d found that he couldn’t quite recall, and maybe that’s because he never had an excuse.

Still, you seem like you should have had at least the opportunity for love. After all, Sanemi can’t imagine someone worthier of it.

You’re staring at him, now, expectant, and Sanemi distracts himself by reaching for his own beer bottle to inspect it. “’S not weird,” he says after a moment. “You’re young. You’ve barely been out in the world.”

“But you‘ve done it,” you push, taking another swig of your drink.

Sanemi nods with a chuckle, setting his now-empty bottle down. “Yeah, yeah I have.”

You refuse to meet his eyes as you mumble, “And you like doing it.”

“Is that what the rumors say?” He asks drily, concealing his faint grimace by reaching for another beer.

“I don’t care about the rumors. I’m trying to make a point, here,” you scowl, finally lifting your gaze back to him. “I want to do it. I don’t want to be a virgin anymore.”

He glances at you from the corner of his eye. “Noted.”

“I want you to fix it.”

His hand halts midair before it can reach the last unopened bottle, and he turns to stare dumbly at you.

You must be joking — or you’re drunk. In either event, there’s no fucking way you’re serious.

He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it — extensively, for that matter. And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want it just as badly as you seem to — arguably, even more so, given that he can’t stop thinking about it.

He wouldn’t be caught dead admitting that he thinks of you that way often — so much so that he hasn’t been able to get laid in at least two months, because he couldn’t stop picturing you when he was with his designated fling of the evening.

Hell, he’d only been able to get off that last time because he stopped fighting the images in his head. Ones that involved that flirty sundress you loved wearing pulled down to expose your breasts, bouncing as you rode him, or the blush on your cheeks he imagined would form when he settled between your thighs, mouth lowering to steal a taste of what he could only assume was paradise.

Since then, the only thing Sanemi has been fucking is his own hand. And damn, if those little images of you didn’t keep sneaking into his subconscious. And though he always managed to cum fast and hard whenever those fantasies bled into his mind, Sanemi also was left to feel nothing but shame afterward as he wiped his hand and abdomen clean, guilt hanging heavily over his head for thinking of you in such a way.

For daring to think you might want him at all.

But now, here you were, looking at him with all the hopeful expectancy in the world. As though he has anything worth offering you.

Sure, Sanemi knew you were likely asking him to do it for practicality’s sake. You were a virgin and you wanted not to be anymore. And he was there, your only friend, and he was someone known for being rather unrestrained when it came to matters of the bedroom (or, anywhere that offered semi-privacy, for that matter).

He was a convenience; nothing more.

Did that stop him from considering it? Of course not. He was yours to use as much as you wanted, as far as he was concerned. But he’d assumed his usefulness stopped at being an ear to listen to; a companion — not because of anything you did, but because Sanemi had never felt like he held much value outside of what he could do for others.

And really, being used for this purpose — by you, no less — wasn’t too bad of an idea, all things considered.

But he can’t; he won’t. Part of him wants you to save that piece of yourself for someone who deserves it; deserves you. And that sure as shit isn’t him.

Part of him is also acutely aware that you’re tipsy and thus, the boundaries of your consent are blurry, and Sanemi would rather eat and shit glass than dilute them further.

But another part of him hesitates because he knows that if he does give in — gives you what you both want — that he’ll only further distort what remains of the lines he’s drawn in the sand. Lines, he sternly reminds himself, that are not just his means of protecting you, but rules that he is bound to obey as an extension of the Corps.

Don’t get attached.

And yet, he can’t help but wonder; can’t stop his traitorous heart from swelling, or his mind from running with the faint possibility of what life might be like if he just said yes.

What would it be like to be close to you? To hold you, kiss you, whisper sweet nothings in your ear he’d never told anyone else, but had secretly always longed to share? Would you moan or sigh his name? And if he was graced with the chance to see you fall apart — how would you look? Would you cry out, or would your mouth fall open in a silent o, your pleasure so intense that it stole the very breath from your lungs?

Never mind wanting and being wanted in return — what would it be like to have?

You rest your chin on your arms, eyes fixed on him, waiting, and Sanemi feels himself nearly break right there.

It’s nearly impossible to turn you down in a way that won’t hurt your feelings, but he has to. He has no choice.

He never has.

“Sorry, Princess. Don’t think that’s the best idea.” He reaches over to flick your nose before adding, “Plus, you’re a bit too tipsy.”

He hopes that his disappointment isn’t too evident on his face as he watches you; hopes that you cannot see the way his heart cracks under his own self restraint.

Thankfully, you drop your head onto your arms with a groan, concealing your face in your alcohol-tinged shame.

To his dismay, your obvious letdown punches at that soft part of his heart he’s reserved for you. His mouth goes dry. The idea blooms in his head and he’s acting before he can stop himself.

Just a taste. He swears. Just a taste. A little indulgence, so you know his reticence has nothing to do with you and everything to do with the fact that he isn’t worth it.

“Hey.”

You roll your head to the side to peer shyly at him, a pretty blush still staining your cheeks.

“Come here.”

You lift your head from your arms then, cocking it in a question that Sanemi decides to answer by crooking his fingers under your chin and leaning in.

The kiss he shares with you is soft; measured. Your lips feel like silk against his, and it strikes him that never before has he kissed anyone with so much tenderness. The few kisses he exchanged with his flavors of the night were always sharp, bruising clashes of lips and teeth, each party more focused on sating their own needs rather than tending to that of the other.

Then again, Sanemi never felt this way toward those serving as his temporary distractions. He never thought of them as something precious; something to be adored, the way he does you.

You don’t move your arms from where they’re folded atop your knees, and for that, Sanemi is grateful. He knows that were you to move your hands to cup his face or even tangle in his hair, he would lose whatever thread of self control he possessed when it came to you.

So, Sanemi continues to kiss you slowly; indulgently. He never lets himself deepen it, never lets his tongue flick out along the seam of your lips in an effort to part them. He simply moves his lips with yours for a moment longer before he finally pulls away, though his fingers linger under your chin.

Only centimeters separate your mouth from his, and Sanemi can feel the sweet warmth of your breath as he whispers, “We should pick out a movie.”

You nod after a moment, still too stooped in the haze of his closeness to you. Reluctantly, Sanemi shifts away, his hand dropping from your chin. You don’t see how he flexes it over and over when you turn away to fidget with your remote, Sanemi unable to shake off the memory of your skin under his fingertips.

He watches the movie without really seeing it; his mind is far too preoccupied with replaying your kiss, over and over on a constant, never-ending loop.

He’d hoped that the small kiss would smother some of the fire that has been steadily consuming him over the last few months. A temporary respite to the near constant pang of longing he felt in his chest every time he looked at you.

What a stupid fucking idea that had been.

Because, as Sanemi sits beside you, limbs rigid under the incessant buzz thrumming in his veins, urging him to reach over and lay you back against the rug and make you his, he realizes your kiss was only a gallon of gasoline dumped directly over his fire.

And, judging by the way you keep your eyes fixed resolutely on the screen before you despite the persistent heat in your cheeks, Sanemi thinks you might be just as hungry for him as he is for you.

Oh, he’s fucked.

likes/reblogs/comments always appreciated!

[alyakthedorklord]

Omg literally it would be SO cool if you wrote the rest of the playboy bruce trying to kiss the justice league without them realizing it (I know you said figure it out but the way you wrote it was so good and funn I would love it if you gave maybe a couple of scenarios)

Lmao honestly executive dysfunction is kicking my ASS rn and it was intended as a prompt. I will try tho, definitely taking inspiration from the others who responded to the post because I love them.

If you haven’t, go check out the notes on the OG Post above! @britcision, @ivywing, and @help-i-need-a-cool-username all had amazing additions and @foursixtwonineoh-pieces-of-lego wrote a fic:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/48325771

As did @scrapcheck, still in progress

And Devilhorn!

Anyways LONG post under the cut

Hal Jordan

Hal is first to prove a POINT, as @britcision decided. Also because the bastard made it waaaay too easy. Remember- Hal was Joking. He genuinely thinks Batman isn’t going to try, because he’s way too straight-laced boring.

So when he’s at a bar in Coast City, and he sees this absolutely ravishing man lounging casually against the wall, bar lighting making him practically glow (he CALCULATED that) subtle makeup making his bright blue eyes pop as he looks Hal up and down… Well. Hal makes the first move.

Hal: “All on your own, handsome?”

Bruce, with “Mastermind” by Taylor Swift playing in his head, smiling sweetly at Hal: “Care to change that?”

They start talking. Hal doesn’t recognize Bruce Wayne at ALL (canonically he does not know who Bruce Wayne is, a point brought up by @help-i-need-a-cool-username) so all he knows is Bruce is a single father who works at a company he inherited from his parents, which is just (brucie voice) “so much less interesting than a test pilot!”

Bruce, grimacing internally but wrapped around Hal’s arm with the awed and interested eyes in full effect: “you have such a nice voice, tell me more about planes…”

He KNOWS what a fuselage is, thank you, Jordan. Whatever. He gets to gush about his kids, when its his turn to talk, good enough tradeoff. He can survive Hal Jordan’s bad pick up lines and pretend he’s into them. At a certain point Bruce breaks and kisses him just to shut him up. One down.

Diana Prince

I looked it up- kissing in Ancient Greece wasn’t always considered romantic, but also a greeting between two similarly-ranked people. Therefore, I think Diana would be pretty chill with kissing and honestly an easy target at a gala if Bruce plays respectful/clumsy/earnest himbo starstruck with the tall pretty woman, just a peck would make him the happiest man alive. But I wanna go a little more in depth.

Now, I’ve seen Flash and Martian Manhunter save Bruce and/or his kids and Bruce lays one on them, but honestly I think it would work well with Diana too, because she loves kids. Dick and/or Jason (whichever you want to imagine, I want them to team up screw canon) are WAY to excited for this, they’ve got a little script and everything.

WonderWoman, a kid in each arm, delivering them back to their tearful guardian: “Here we are, Mr. Wayne. Whole and healthy.”

Dick, playing into his role eagerly: “Oh my gosh, Bruce! Bruce we got saved by a princess! It’s like a fairytale! Except, you know, the princess is the hero this time, which is so freaking cool!”

Bruce, tears of gratitude rolling down his face (and he knows how to still look perfect while crying, its a skill): “I’m just glad the two of you are safe, Chum.”

Jason, big baby blues in full effect, absolutely asked Wonder Woman to be his mom earlier (to set groundwork, no other reason): “You know, usually the princess and the hero gets a kiss at the end of a fairytale, Bruce. But this princess is both. So how will she get a reward?”

Still choked up with relieved tears and now laughter, Bruce looks up at Diana and smiles: “Well, if the Princess wants a reward… then I would be a fool to refuse.”

Bruce kisses her on the lips, Dick and Jason both kiss her cheeks, Diana leaves charmed and amused by the sweet family. Such a good father, humoring his children and thier little fascination with her, so very respectful…

Two down.

J’ohn Jones

Okay, martians are telepathic. So this goes one of two ways, at some sort of charity or something-

Option 1, Batman is a realist: the charity event is a masquerade, and he wanders over to where MM is while thinking “it would be so funny, give me this.” As loudly as he can. And Martian Manhunter, who appreciates the audacity, gives him a kiss. (I don’t like this one because it technically breaks the rules of the bet, bc MM knows it’s Batman, but eh)

Option 2, Batman is a different breed: he manages to up the ante with his Himbo Persona. Creating a “slippery void” mental facade that blocks of his real thoughts and makes him read as really just that stupid. This would require functioning with two trains of thought at once, and making sure that the Martian can only read the surface level, “oh, this one is pretty” “I really wouldn’t mind kissing him” and other such decoy thoughts, instead of “target is approaching, signs of interest present despite this not being his natural form-“

Bruce also researches and copies Martian courting styles and copies them “by chance,” catching MM’s attention. (He offers him Oreos)

Martian Manhunter: “this man… he is so empty headed and yet clearly kind and willing. I would not take him for a life partner, but for some simple fun as he seems to desire…”

(Edit: Maybe, if B is confident enough, he lets through his loneliness. Missing his parents, wanting affection, an ache so strong it’s like a physical wound. J’onn feels the same ache for his lost family, and decides to try this human’s strategy to fill that void. Either way…)

Batman 3, League 0

Barry Allen

I’m strangely blank when it comes to the Flash let me just spitball and let it snowball

As I said above, people have had him save Bruce, had Bruce seduce him at his workplace while taking a tour, I even saw @help-i-need-a-cool-username have Dick set up a petition for Bruce to kiss the Flash. (An idea that I personally think would also go really well with Superman lmao.)

Anyways, I think it would be funny for Bruce to take it slow with Barry. For the irony of it all. Because Batman is doing this to prove a POINT. So he’s in central city, spots Barry coming his way, and “accidentally” slips right into his arms. Ooh, or covered in coffee, like a wealth disparity drama base script, and Barry’s like “omg i am so sorry let me pay you back.” And bruce is all “this shirt costs (stupid amount of money)”

Barry: (fear)

Bruce, rolling with it rn: “yes, it is horrendous, isn’t it? Hows this- I’m in central city for a day. You can pay me back by showing me around?”

He then proceeds to string barry along on an honest to god DATE for shits and giggles. They go clothes shopping, they go to restaurants, Bruce pays for a big meal bc this is after a fight or something and Barry got hurt, his speedster comrade needs to EAT, damnit.

After all this, he gives a cheeky smile and lightly smooches Barry. “Thanks for the fun day, Mr. Allen.”

Barry, bright red and goo brained: “hah- mmhmm. Yeah…”

Batman 4, League 0

Oliver Queen

This one… Oliver is on guard. He’s twitchy and suspicious, turning down men flirting with him, people are starting to notice. But Bruce? Bruce just walks up at a party while “tipsy” and lays one on him. Straight up. He wants to show just how EASY it is. Because Oliver doesn't even register it. He just laughs and goes: “Hey Brucie! Miss me?”

Batman 5, League 0

Dinah Lance

Of course, immediately after above, he turns and pouts at canary.

Bruce: “Dinah darling, you are a saint, I don’t know how you put up with the mess he’s got on his face. He was so much nicer to kiss when we were in (fancy private school name drop) together and didn’t have all this nonsense.”

Dinah, laughing at Ollie’s offended noises: “Oh, I don’t mind it. He’s a good kisser.”

Bruce: “Of course he is, I taught him. Care to compare?”

Dinah: “Don’t mind if I do.”

Batman 6, league 0

Clark Kent

For Clark, Bruce is originally talking to Lois before he turns his eyes on a quiet Clark and croons: “So, Miss Lane, does this lovely specimen have his own questions, or is he arm candy? And if he’s the latter, can I either tempt him off you, or secure an invitation?”

Lois, an excellent friend who will absolutely set Clark up with the hottest bachelor in Gotham: “Well, Mister Wayne, I’ve got all I need. Clark, take a page from my book and honeytrap a good quote out of him, hm?”

With an obnoxious wink, she pats a spluttering Clark on the shoulder, and leaves him with a very smug Batman.

(Bonus Superbat- Clark and Bruce’s conversation is going REALLY WELL and to the point where both of them seem on board with more than a heavy makeout when Bruce puts a hand on Clarks chest.

Bruce: “Stop.”

Clark, freezing immediately: “I’m sorry, did I go too far-?”

Bruce: “No, no. I think I might be though. See, I have all of you now, and I’ve won the bet.”

Clark: “What are you- oh. Oh- HUH?”

Cue sudden and shocked revelation, Clark’s mind going a hundred miles an hour, and then skidding to a stop on- he only did this for the bet. He’s not really interested. He stopped because I went too far-

Bruce: “You only consented to a kiss without knowing my identity. Right now, I’d like to do more, if you’d let me.”

Clark has the dial-up tone ringing in his ears, he has no idea whats going on anymore, the hot billionaire and his reclusive teammate aren’t quite slotting into place, because he wants both but rhey’re so different but they’re the same but-

“Yes.”

Lois doesn’t get Clark back that night and she is delighted.)

Anyways, final results:

Batman: 7

League: 0

Reveal:

Batman talking shit about their secret identities again, Green Lantern is scoffing about it again, says something along the lines of: “You still think you’re sooooo great, huh? Hows the bet going, spooky?” Fully expecting Batman to get huffy with him.

Instead, Batman smirks.

He leans in

And purrs: “So you didn’t notice?”

The League freezes. The implications are dangling over their head. Did he… did he really?

Green Lantern, absolutely terrified: “No. no, there’s no way…”

Batman: “Oh, there absolutely was a way. I’d say you were a good kisser, but honestly? I think it might have been the euphoria of getting you to shut up.”

He turns on the rest of the league, still smirking. “I have kissed every single person who consented at least once in the time since the bet was made. Two of you with tongue. And no one has called me out on it. Now that you know it’s happened, you should be able to figure me out, so whoever can tell me my real name first, wont get thier story used as an example in the brand new “how to avoid honeypots” seminar.”

(If bonus superbat, B shoots Superman a Look and goes “except for you, superman, because I told you my name.” Which just ends up distracting everyone else until they get THAT story)

Diana wins bc she matched up the boys to the robins. Everyone else gets their stories told in excruciating detail. Batman rates them by kissing ability and how obvious he was on his approach. Oliver gets docked points for “texture.” Dinah gets docked points because “i griped about the exact same thing in and out of costume, how did you not notice-“

(Different reveal below)

@chaos-n-kindness @she-went-that-way @geekonaleash @redh00dsbf @howabouticallyou

[glitter-epoch]

Hiii, always love to see people obsessing over love and deepspace (bc I'm addicted too), can I please request zayne fic about his hands and fingers? Can be suggestive, can be pure smut, up to you lol, ok thanks byee

HIII yes i can!!! i can't believe my first request is a zayne's hands request this feels like a gift. thank you for requesting i hope you like!!!

[ there’s a part 2 now :) ] ☄. *. ⋆ gn! reader | 2.8k words | suggestive, not smut | zayne gives reader stitches but it's deliberately not described in detail/no mentions of needles/blood

“my lunch break ends in fifteen minutes,” zayne had said, staring past your head in thought. “it would be a waste of time to check you in.” 

you stood there in the bustling lobby of akso hospital, one paper-towel-bound hand pressed to the sliced skin over your hipbone, and waited. surely he wasn’t telling you to just leave. you were only friends, so it’s not like he had an obligation to you; but he was your primary care doctor, and...

and. there was, is, an and. you’re not sure what exactly to call it, and zayne is so adonis-like you’re embarrassed to even suggest he might like you.  

“i’m sorry,” you said in earnest, a little surprised by his usual coldness that you’d arrogantly assumed would thaw upon seeing your injury. “i didn’t mean for you to drop everything for me. i should have gone to an urgent care, or something, i just thought since you’re here...” 

zayne looked down from the spot over your head, clearly removed from his pensive mood. his intention to argue with you was clear, but he held his tongue stonily until you finished your rambling. 

“no,” he replied. “you should never go to another doctor. i was just thinking.” 

you blushed like an idiot. “ever?” you mocked. 

“mm,” he murmured, back to thinking again. he brought his forearm to circle the small of your back, not touching, and motioned you forward. “come with me.” 

and now, here you are: sitting on the grey sofa in front of the wall-length window, early afternoon light bleeding white all over zayne’s office. for a few moments, he’s left you alone to gather materials, and you relish in what feels like a small victory. 

i’ve been personally invited to the office.  

not like it’s the first time, though.  

zayne returns with a small kit swallowed by the size of his pale hands; the sleeves of his button-down pinned up to his elbows. you shift, balancing your weight unnaturally on one leg. His eyes snag on you as he grabs his glasses from his desk (far taller than the tabletop, he must lean down to grab those, too). 

“lay down,” zayne commands.  

you blink, glancing around to try to figure out the most convenient position to get into for him to work. by the time he’s come over and sat down on the glass table in front of you, you’re still sitting up. 

“you can put your head on the armrest and your feet that way,” he nods, not a hint of impatience in his deep voice. “i can see you squirming. when you sit up like you are, you’re putting pressure on the wound. it must hurt.” 

“i haven’t even shown you the wound,” you retort, not sure why you’re arguing so much- and swallowing a wince as you turn to prop your head up on the side of the sofa.  

“i see your handywork,” zayne replies. he pulls on a pair of blue latex gloves and they snap quietly against his wrists. he’s clearly careful not to let the noise be too loud. “hm.” 

you frown in place of a (shameful) gulp at the sight of the gloves hugging his hands.  

“is this bad?” you ask. “i’m sorry. i tried not to mess with it too much.” 

zayne pieces through the small kit on the table beside him. even his rummaging is succinct; long fingers deftly parsing through the stack of metal utensils inside. he comes up with two sets of narrow pliers and a cotton round.  

he passes the pliers through his fingers like pencils, balancing them between his knuckles, and pours a solvent that looks like lens cleaner onto the cotton pad. 

“not bad,” he says, eyes on the pliers as he polishes them. “the paper towel is fine. but you got it wet beforehand.” 

“and that’s bad?” 

“you’ll be alright,” he murmurs- or maybe he always sounds like that- and discards the cotton round. the corners of his lips just barely curl. “you won’t die, i suppose.” 

“well, i’d hope not. it’s just a cut.” 

“and what did you do this time?” zayne demands softly, fishing in the kit for what you now realize will be sutures.  

“i had an assignment with xavier and failed to climb a fence.” 

“you impaled yourself, then,” he remarks coldly. “and xavier.” 

he sets a roll of sterile surgical threads on a wider cotton pad and turns his eyes to your midriff, which is still mostly covered by your shirt; wound hiding beneath it.  

“xavier, yeah,” you inhale deeply, mentally preparing for the stitches. “my partner. i’ve mentioned him, i think.” 

“yes, you have,” zayne says. his voice is strained. then he inhales, a whole breath through his nose, mouth closed in stoic secrecy; and nods to your hips. “lift your shirt, please.” 

you’re grateful that he’s given you a task and you don’t have to look him in his eyes after that tiny display of disdain (for your partner? for your hips? hopefully the former?). But as you lift your shirt, the paper towel comes loose. 

“ouch,” you hiss. 

you realize you’re probably stressing him out.  

“it’s not bad,” you add, uncharacteristically hoarse. 

“it’s not,” zayne agrees softly, eyeing the wound with his usual cold stare. his eyes refuse to flicker above or below the cut, which rests just over the shallow ridge of your hipbone, right above the line of your trousers. “but it hurts, i'm sure.” 

you nod. “sure.” 

“sure,” he repeats, almost as if to mock you, almost as if he’s just making sure he heard you right.  

zayne busies himself preparing a cotton round of saline, and in the middle of this, says, 

“you’ll have to unbutton your pants. can you fold the waistband over?” 

your neck is suddenly clammy. “oh. yeah, sure.” 

“if you can’t fold them down far enough, you’ll have to take them off.” 

your eyes blow out like glass. 

zayne, whom you suspected might have been deliberately extending the length of his cotton-round-preparing, is surprisingly the one to smile first. almost wickedly. “i would get you a cover, of course.” 

“oh, how nice of you.” 

he laughs barely, an exhale from his nose. you unbutton your trousers, fabric shifting against metal.  

he inhales at the sound. 

the blue latex over his knuckles catches light from the windows. you watch moments later as he threads the sutures, fascinated by how efficient his hands are. they’re longer than they are wide, and slender, not bear-like; but big nonetheless. and yet his fingers move like knitting needles, never missing a beat, never shaking. “would you like to do it yourself?” zayne asks suddenly. 

his voice is like a hum, always vibrating in his chest. 

you bristle. “god, no.” 

“then why are you staring?”  

you’re hoping he won’t finish on that very word, but he does, and he looks at you with his usual resolve of steel. you decide that no answer is the only good answer, and instead say, 

“okay. good luck. don’t mess up, please.” 

he chuckles and leans over you, the breadth of his sharp shoulders blocking the sun. “i never mess up.”   

the words ‘mess’ and ‘up,’ are foreign on his tongue, like he’d never refer to a mistake so casually, like he’s never made one in his life. he probably hasn’t, you think. 

zayne lifts up the cotton round, which is practically the size of a pea in his hand. “i’m going to clean around it. the solution may sting, but not much. it will be over fast.” 

you nod. “sure.” 

he chuckles again. “sure,” he hums, and then, before he presses down, “here.” 

he swipes the cotton round over your hipbone, startlingly light. goosebumps rise instantly on your flesh. his fingers are icy, even through the gloves; they radiate cold like a lamp radiates heat.  

zayne is kind enough not to mention your instant squirming and moves quickly to start the sutures. 

“this will be fast, too,” he says, looking unwaveringly into your eyes. like he’s trying to will the fear out of you. “not as fast as that, but faster than you’d imagine.” 

you nod. “sure.” 

“there it is again,” he smiles. “sure.” 

you grin incredulously. “i don’t know what else to say. you’re about to stab me.” 

his smile is thin and almost prideful as he grabs his glasses and slips them on. he leans over your hips, then looks up at you; pushing them up the bridge of his nose. 

“aren’t you glad it’s me, at least, and not some stranger?” 

you’re busy inhaling and exhaling like a horse, trying to calm down. “i am glad it’s you, yes.” 

your desperation throws him and his jaw sets like a stone, adam’s-apple bobbing.  

“alright,” zayne says, nearly whispering. “now.” 

he begins the sutures. you gasp, instantly, at first through your nose and then through your mouth; which pops open unwittingly. it’s nearly a whine. 

“i know,” zayne murmurs, leaning back a tiny bit as he works; so his face is visible to you. “i’m sorry.” 

“it’s okay.” 

you bite down hard and screw your eyes shut, but all you do is flinch each time his fingers move. he stops almost instantaneously, like pulling the plug on a treadmill. 

“look at me,” zayne says, deep voice rumbling against your thigh.  

you peel one eye open and then the other. 

“i know it hurts,” he says gently. “but you can’t move. i could seriously hurt you.” 

“sorry, sorry,” you nod. “i know.” 

the pools of his eyes are clear. he’s resolute in his instructions as he speaks, every word confident. 

“breathe the entire time, through every suture. i can work while your stomach moves; i can’t work if you’re flinching away.” 

“okay.” 

his brows lift. “okay?” 

again, you nod. “okay. i’m sorry.” 

“no apologies,” zayne says. 

he presses his hand flat to the side of your belly that’s unharmed, the tips of his long fingers just barely curling around the slope of your waist. you inhale slowly at that, blinking rapidly. his hand is cool as glass.  

you panic, as if he can somehow feel the coil that winds up in your stomach; watching his fingers splayed across your navel.  

“i’m going to try again,” he says. you can feel the words all the way down to his fingertips. then his thumb moves, caressing the skin just over your waistband. “breathe.” 

well, i can’t now. 

“got it,” you grind out. 

“good,” zayne hums. “three, two, one...” 

and it starts again. you bite down, tongue taut to the roof of your mouth. 

“don’t,” zayne warns, stern as ever, but his fingers keep working. “breathe. i can see whether you’re doing it.” 

the coil in your stomach tightens. you peel your eyes open and watch him work, knuckles grazing over the soft, thin flesh that’s been revealed from behind the waistband of your trousers.  

his eyes flash away from your navel as you start to watch. moments later, you’re stunned to see how laser-focused he is, pupils never moving from your cut.  

“do you ever get nervous doing this?” you ask, apt to make the time pass faster by talking. like your mouth isn’t wet just watching him do his job. “are you nervous?” 

“no.” his reply is instant. “i’ve done this hundreds of times.” 

you’re stunned. “i would be nervous.” 

“you are nervous,” zayne murmurs. “close your eyes.” 

the ball of his wrist presses into the juncture of your hipbone.  

“no,” you gasp. too fast. 

zayne’s fingers slow, utensils suspended. he looks up at you, somehow feeling taller still. “no?” 

you shake your head. “i-i don’t like not knowing what you’re going to do next.” 

oh, sure.  

he’s stopped working at this point, watching you like a hawk. “then i’ll tell you what i’m going to do before i do it.” 

“that’s okay,” you exhale. i’m dying. 

zayne’s eyes rove over yours, not unkind, but uncaring about how visible his assessment of you is. clinical, even still. the corners of his lips curl up.  

you’re not sure how it’s possible for your stomach to drop while laying flat on your back, but it does; your ears hot as irons.  

he goes back to work without another word. you’re so embarrassed, you finally shut your eyes and let your head weigh on the armrest until he’s done. 

“alright,” zayne says. “that’s it. don’t move.” 

you keep your eyes shut, nodding. “i really can’t thank you enough, i-” 

“watch.” 

for a moment, you lay there. then you open your eyes, peering down at him, too uncertain to be shocked yet. “what?” 

zayne takes his small kit from the table and places it on your lap. you startle, blink, as he sifts through the contents of it. gloves still on.  

“this is another cleanser,” he hums, his voice uncharacteristically musical. “i’m going to clean around the sutures.” 

you stare incredulously at him. “...okay.” 

he’s not fooled by your aloofness. zayne’s right hand works slow circles with a cotton round around your cut; the other comes down flat to keep the waistband of your trousers from getting in his way. both are cold to the touch; never quite warming.  

your jaws come apart and you barely manage to stop your mouth from falling open as discards the cotton round and takes the corner of your waistband into his hand. 

he buttons your trousers; pulls the zipper up. 

you watch like a fool. then, when he’s done, and you think you’ll have to admit to what you’re thinking, he furrows his brows at your face.  

“did you cut yourself here, too?” he murmurs. 

“where?” you croak. 

zayne shakes his head and slowly peels off the gloves; letting them slide slowly off his fingers. “mm. here.” 

he reaches forward and spreads fingers to cup your temples. one thumb glides over your browbone, low enough that you can see it; four or five times before removing his kit from your hips and leaning back.  

you exhale harshly and move to sit up, wondering if you’ll be able to somehow flee the office without another word. 

“not yet,” zayne says. “lay back again. you don’t have to put your head back; just lean back.” 

and you do it, instantly, because...well, because.  

zayne pulls a rectangular gauze pad with an adhesive border from the small kit. then he leans forward- he'd be positioned between your legs, if you opened them- and pulls your shirt up once more. 

as he presses the bandage over your sutured wound, it seems like even he can’t look at you. but his usually statuesque expression is lifted with amusement, plus something more sinister.  

“you like to watch me work,” he hums. 

his fingers dip under your waistband to smooth the bandage over. 

“shut up,” you bite. 

he leans back and watches you with no further offerings- words or otherwise medically dubious practices- and looks quite pleased. his breath is ragged, though; chest lifting and caving. 

“thank you,” you exhale. your tongue darts out over your lips.  

his pupils are swollen. “sure.” 

you grin, caught off guard by the joke. it sounds ridiculous in his voice.  

“my break will be ending,” zayne says, stony as ever once again as he walks to his desk.  

you stand, smoothing your hair down like something far more scandalous just occurred than stitches. 

“what do i owe you?” you ask. this earns a genuine, icy glare. 

“nothing,” zayne replies, pulling on his white jacket and grabbing his things. “but go to the front desk before you leave. i’m going to call in a prescription ointment for you.” 

you blink at him, thrice. a little dizzy. “oh, wow. thank you.” 

as zayne strides to the door, you think he might genuinely leave you there without another word. but he takes the door handle, and, almost shy, turns over his shoulder and says, 

“i’d like to stay with you, but i can’t. i’ll be working until dinner.” 

“no, no,” you rush, stepping to meet him at the door. “i’m fine. thank you so much, for doing this. i was just thinking.” 

he still can’t look at you, but at that; zayne grins. 

“i’ll call you when i get home,” he says. then, “is that okay?” 

you swallow. “of course.” 

“i want to know how the sutures feel in a couple of hours,” he adds. 

“oh, sure,” you tease. 

his eyes darken, like darts. you’re almost afraid.  

zayne opens the door for you and waits for you to pass by, eyes full of mirth as he looks down at you. “i’m glad i could be of service.” 

he raps his fingers on a clipboard until you look away. you blush feverishly all the way down the hall at how he says ‘service.’ 

☄. *. ⋆

this is not how you do stitches nor how you sterilize utensils. anyways FIRST POST. lol. anon if you or anyone else wants a part 2 of this (nsfw) i wiiiiiill do it lmk

[dunnerlars]

always attract - matthew tkachuk

pairing: matthew tkachuk x fem!reader summary: matthew mistakenly tells your brother that you're his date to his wedding. word count: 5.7k warnings: none? i don't think a/n: this is my fic for @sc0tters for the #the summer fic exchange 2k24 hosted by the wonderful @wyattjohnston! i haven't written in forever so this was fun to dive into- and it's not beta'd because i'm terrified to ask someone to look it over so all mistakes are my own 😅

—

Matthew 🐀: I know its 5am for you but i think fucked up

Matthew 🐀: Will you be my date to your brothers wedding

The text has you blinking rapidly as you check the time, your phone bright in the dark of the room. Why the fuck is he up right now? Squinting, you see it’s just past 5am and groan, falling back into bed and wondering what the fuck Matthew’s even talking about. It takes a second for you to put everything together, mind failing to keep up with the words date, wedding, and brother.

Me: Sorry what??? What are you talking about

Matthew 🐀: we’re at connor’s bach party and leon asked if i had a date yet and i might’ve told connor you were going to be my date

Me: It’s 5AM 

Matthew 🐀: i know we’re heading back to the hotel now but Please b my date

Me: What did connor say?

You huff and roll over, sitting up to turn the light on your nightstand on. Matthew hadn’t responded back yet and you quick to type:

Me: Is he pissed??

Matthew 🐀: its hard to tell w him you know? So what do you say? Date? To the wedding? pleaseeeeeeee

Suddenly a knot forms in your stomach at the thought and despite it not being your fault you feel guilty for Connor thinking you were hiding something from him. Matthew is your friend….He wouldn’t be the worst date. Might as well get something out of it.

Me: What’s in it for me?

Matthew 🐀: literally whatever

Having a favor from Matthew could come in handy at some point, you think. And it could be worth all of this fucking nonsense he’s putting you through at now 5:22am. 

Me: Fine, but you owe me a no-barred favor. I can ask for whatever, whenever I want no matter what.

You pause-

Me: How did this even happen?

Matthew 🐀: i’ll explain tomorrow and we can figure out details!!! Thnks babe 😘

Rolling your eyes, you set your phone back down on the nightstand and sigh. It’s almost too much to think about how quickly Connor and Matthew had become close over the last couple of weeks. You’d thought for sure there would be some residual hate from the Panthers Cup win but then Matthew had invited Connor out to his day with the Cup and it was love at first bro hug or whatever excuse they used. And despite the invites going out months ago, Connor had finagled an invite for Matthew and now here you were.

Ever since your move to southern Florida last year, your growing friendship with Matthew had always bugged Connor so it was funny to you now, seeing the tables turned. 

The vibration of your phone breaks you from your thoughts and you prepare yourself for another text from Matthew only to be surprised to see it’s a text from your brother.

Connor 👼🏻: So Tkachuk huh?

Deciding it was far too early to deal with this anymore, you turn the phone over and will yourself back to sleep.

—

It’s the next day when Matthew requests to FaceTime you, your phone ringing with a video call as you step outside to your backyard and get settled on a patio chair.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Matthew greets, his grin the most endearingly annoying thing about him.

“You don’t have to use lines on me, Matthew. I’ve already said yes,” you remind him, eyebrows raised as you try your best to glare at him. You take stock of his surroundings and frown. “Are you back in St. Louis already?”

“Yeah, I had a charity thing scheduled with my dad for tonight so I flew back late yesterday.”

“Oh.. Hope you’re not too hungover.” 

He shrugs and regroups, sliding his sunglasses up into his curls. “I’m alright. So-,” he starts but you cut him off.

“I need you to explain to me what happened last night before we figure out everything else.” It’s something you’ve tried to piece together and you still haven’t texted Connor back, afraid you might break Matthew’s cover.

“Alright, that’s fair,” he nods, “We were walking back from a bar and Leon asked if I had a date to the wedding, since it was short notice that I was going. And the way he asked- it just really bugged me. Like his tone? I dunno. It just rubbed me wrong. And the guys were making shitty comments. Whatever.”

You know the tone Matthew’s referring to, grateful you’ve never been on the receiving end. Leon was a hard one to crack and it’d taken you at least a year to wear him down. Nodding at him to continue, he shifts his eyes and you can tell he’s embarrassed. 

“So obviously I told them I had a date and they stopped and it was fine- until your brother pulled me back from the group and asked who I was bringing, so he could tell Lauren, and I panicked and said you,” he mumbles the next part, your ears straining to pick up the words, “And I might've mentioned we’ve been dating.”

You pause, wondering if Matthew just said what you think he did and yeah- he did. He at least has the nerve to look sheepish, apologetic. “Dating? Are you… What? Matthew!”

“Look, I was on the spot okay! And drunk! And it’s not like it’s out of the question. You’re one of my best friends. My mom loves you, I swear you talk to my sister more than I do. I can go on,” he shoots you a pleading look.

“Well when you put it that way, sure. I guess.”

“You guess? You know I’m right.”

Sighing, you nod. “Fine. Whatever. Did you give him any details? I can’t imagine Connor didn’t have a million questions, I tell him everything.”

“What do you mean everything?”

“Matthew, that’s not the point. Did he question you at all?” 

“No. Just patted me on the shoulder and we caught up with everyone else.”

“Huh.”

That’s…. Weird. And out of character for your brother, who’s nosy as fuck when it comes to your personal life. Maybe he already thinks it’s all a lie. Or is just actually super pissed, which isn’t any better. Would this even be worth it? How often would a favor from Mattew come in handy? Okay, actually pretty handy. He’s got money, connections. Could be good to have for things you don’t wanna ask Connor for… Ugh.

Glancing up, you catch Matthew waiting for you to say something and his curls catch the back light of the St. Louis sun from behind him, casting an almost halo glow around his head. His eyes are bright, sunglasses still tucked up on the top of his head. Two front teeth catching his bottom lip and biting and God, he’s pretty. 

Maybe this wasn’t the worst idea. What could go wrong? 

“Alright, let’s figure this out…”

—

It’s hours later when you finally work up the nerve to call Connor, lying in bed after a long day. Since he hadn’t questioned Matthew for details, it was easy enough to make up a backstory for you and Matthew: it’s only been a couple of months, things aren’t serious but they’re fun and easy and you both like each other enough that it’s exclusive. Which was all real except that when you hung out, it just wasn’t a date. Because you weren’t dating. Nope.

The call finally connects, sure you were almost going to get his voicemail, and Connor greets you with, “Thanks for letting me know you’re alive.”

It’s easy to tell by the tone of his voice, short, quick and void of any emotion, that he’s disappointed because it’s the voice you know he uses when he loses a game he felt they should’ve won.

“You’re mad.”

“And why am I mad?”

“Because-”

“Because I found out you’ve been secretly dating Tkachuk behind my back, from him? Why did I have to find out from him and not you, my own sister? Was this going on throughout our entire Cup series? Or has it been longer?”

Fuck.

“Matthew lying to me is- It’s whatever. You’re my sister. Why didn’t you tell me? What about telling me made you straight up lie when I’ve asked you about your trips up to wherever the fuck the Panthers play? Or when he’s down there with you?”

Fort Lauderdale your mind supplies but you know it won’t do any good to say so.

“You always made it seem like it was just buddies when you told me you were meeting with him for lunch or whatever, someone that reminded you of home, but I guess that’s what made it so easy, huh?” The heat in Connor’s voice has petered out, like he’s figuring it all out and he sighs. “Fuck. I’m sorry. This is probably why you didn’t want to say anything to me.”

“It really was just friends, Con. I promise,” you tell him. “Then… I dunno. Things just got more real. I didn’t want to see anyone else and he didn’t either. It’s only been a couple of months, I swear.”

“So, through the series, huh?”

“Yeah.”

Connor lets out a long breath, like he’s deciding his next words carefully. “I’m sorry you felt like you couldn’t tell me. I get it. It wasn’t the best reaction.”

“No shit,” you laugh.

“But you’re coming to the wedding together?” You hear someone shout in the background and grin when you recognize Lauren’s voice. “Lauren wants to know if she should switch your escort down the aisle to Chucky.”

“I mean,” you pause, thinking. It would be nice to know who was walking down with you, one of Lauren’s second cousins or something was supposed to be your escort but having Matthew on your arm would be nice. “Yeah, sure. As long as it doesn’t fuck anything up on her end.”

Connor grunts, “As if Lauren would let anything fuck that day up. It’s fine. Let Chucky know for us, yeah? She’s making the calls already.”

“Alright. Thanks, Con. And tell Lauren thank you too.”

“Will do. Love ya, kiddo. Sorry I freaked out.”

You roll your eyes. Brothers. 

“Love you too. I’ll text you once I talk to him.”

Lauren and Connor both shouted their goodbyes as you hung up.

Me: So you’re gonna be my escort down the aisle next week in the wedding 🙂

Matthew 🐀: Fuck you

Me: You wish

Matthew 🐀: well yeah

Of course he didn’t mean it like that- Matthew always down for a joke, and you calm your racing heart, gulping down some water.

So now you not only have a fake boyfriend but also said (fake) boyfriend was going to walk you down the aisle at your brother’s wedding. In a week. Great.

—

You fly into St. Louis. The plan was to meet up with Matthew on the Saturday before the wedding and then you’d fly up to Toronto and drive up to Muskoka together on Wednesday. Trying to keep up appearances, Matthew had said. Thankfully the flight from Miami to Missouri wasn’t too terrible, even if the lady that was sat next to you had a perfume on that made you nauseous. 

Matthew had texted you that he was idling on the curb, waiting, and once you had your bags, you headed outside into the muggy heat. The loud honk of a horn coming from a giant black SUV startles you and Matthew rolls down the window with a laugh, “Come on, they’re gonna make me move again.”

It was tempting to make him squirm but you caught the eye of one of the traffic guards and scurry forward, dumping your bags into the backseat before jumping into the passenger’s side. 

“Hi.” 

“Hey,” he grins, turning on his blinker before merging onto the road. “Seatbelt please.”

The quietness of the truck surprises you as you buckle your seatbelt, having expected some kind of rap music or sports podcast to be playing through the speakers. Or at least that’s what he normally was listening to when you’d meet up in Miami, and he’d pick you up at your apartment. The silence was comfortable though, the quiet hum of the AC and the tapping of Matthew’s fingers against the steering wheel filling the cab. His posture was relaxed, slouched in the driver’s seat.

Matthew swats lightly at your thigh, pulling your attention away from the window, “You should let Connor know you’re here.”

Digging through your bag, you search for your phone and fire off a quick text to the group chat with your brother and parents that you’d made it safely to St. Louis and were with Matthew, heading back to his house.

“So, how was the flight?”

Well it was fine in the sense that nothing went wrong and there weren’t any screaming babies and you managed to fall asleep since you’d been up at the ass crack of dawn to make sure you got to the airport in time but- Well. Your dreams had been filled with flashes of Matthew’s smile and his laugh and how he always managed to make you feel better after a bad day at work and he’d called just to say he was bored and was wondering what you were doing and, and and-. 

Where was this even coming from?

You obviously couldn’t say all of that so you shrug, “It was okay. The lady next to me must’ve bathed in perfume because I almost gagged but I pulled a mask on and managed to fall asleep against the window.”

Matthew whistles in sympathy, “God that’s always the worst.”

Nodding, you chew on your bottom lip and turn to face him in your seat and get a good look at him. “You look nice.”

And he did. There was something different about him and you weren’t sure if it was the glowing tan that covered his neck and arms, the blonde that was starting to weave its way into the curls that sat neatly on his head, or just the ease at which he was holding himself but he looked different. Maybe part of it was the fact that the last time you’d seen Matthew in person was right after the Panthers victory and he’d been dog tired and worn out, bushy beard and clothes hanging off his frame. This Matthew was refreshed and had a Stanley Cup under his belt, carefree and like nothing could bring him down. 

Matthew glances at you quickly, a sly smile overtaking his face. “Yeah? Well, gotta look good for my girlfriend ya know? Figured I’d shower, at the very least.”

Wait.

“Your parents don’t think we’re dating, right?”

Matthew’s quick to shake his head with a honking laugh, “Nah, I explained to them what happened. My mom’s excited to see you again though. And Taryn.”

“Not your dad?”

Pulling off the highway, he chuckles and shrugs. “Big Walt’s not home. He’s on some golf trip for the week.”

It’s hard not to let your relief show. Keith wasn’t your favorite person and taking him out of the equation of this short trip was a small victory you were willing to celebrate. To yourself.

“Cool cool cool.”

“It’s okay that you don’t like him,” Matthew assures you as he pulls up to what you can only assume is his parents home. It wasn’t familiar to you in the way Matthew’s St. Louis home was becoming from all of the play-by-play videos he’s sent during his off time, describing the day he’s had while grabbing his mail, or going for a walk around the neighborhood while telling you about the latest update on Brady’s incoming baby or what he was going to have for dinner.

“I don’t like how he treats you,” you remind him, voice quiet.

It was no secret to Matthew how you felt about his father. You couldn’t even begin to count how many times you’d heard Keith put him down through solo interviews or in passing comments from Matthew or even Tayrn, when she’d call to tell you about another argument the two of them had that she’d overheard.

Matthew nods, grimacing. “Well, we don’t have to deal with him while we’re here. Come on, let’s head in before my mom wonders why we’re sitting out here instead.”

The rest of the day was uneventful. You and Taryn hang out in the backyard with White Claws while she tells you horror stories from her last semester at college and Matthew flits in and out, helping his mom with dinner while also trying to get the juicy gossip. It was comfortable, even if the St. Louis air was sticky with humidity and dinner went by quickly and soon enough, you were back in Matthew’s car heading to his place.

“Well this is nice. Not as nice as the one in Florida but- nice,” you whistle, taking in the coziness of Matthew’s home. There was an overstuffed couch in the center of the living room, a coffee table littered with sports magazines, and further back you could see the kitchen with deep brown cabinets and hardwood floors to match. “Very cozy.”

“Yeah, my mom took care of most of it during the season. I just sent a bunch of pictures of things for her to copy,” Matthew shrugs, nodding up the stairs. “Uh, guest rooms are up there. You tired?”

“Really fucking tired.”

“Come on then, up we go.”

Matthew led the way up the stairs, carrying your suitcase. The temptation to smack his ass was a hard one to quell but you just barely managed when you hit the landing. 

“So,” he points to the left. “That room I use as an office but it’s got an en suite. Bed’s kinda small though.” Pointing to the right, he glances at you before speaking. “That one’s closest to my room. Bigger bed. No bathroom though.”

“Well obviously I’m taking the bigger bed.” You nudge his arm with yours, taking the suitcase and heading towards the room. “So, plans for tomorrow: Taryn said something about getting lunch? I don’t know if you’re invited. Also you’ve gotta take me to that bakery here you’ve been talking about for months so I can judge the almond croissant you’ve deemed better than the ones from True Loaf. Which are the best. Obviously.”

As you dig through your suitcase in search of pajamas, you glance up to see Matthew leaning against the doorway with a weird smile on his face as he looks at you. “You good?”

“Yeah, just-,” he pauses, crossing his arms over his chest. “Glad to have you here. It’s been a while.”

“Happy to be here. Boyfriend.” You shoot him a wide grin, hoping it covers up the clear nervousness you’re feeling now that you’re settling in. Sleeping in his house.

Matthew snorts, shaking his head. “See you in the morning.”

—

The rest of your time in St. Louis was kind of great, all things considered. Matthew was an attentive host and Taryn and Chantal were eager to fill your time- from gossiping about the league, to things you needed to check out the next time you were in town. And Chantal had made you promise that you would- come back, that is, on your last night in St. Louis with the four of you crowded around the table in the backyard of Matthew’s house, sharing a bottle of wine and embarrassing stories.

You’d had to double, and triple check, with Matthew to make sure his mom or sister didn’t think the two of you were actually dating, especially when promises were being made to come back.

He’d just shrugged and said, “They just like you. I like you. Jeez, do people not tell you they like you?”

You were kind of bummed to be leaving as you packed your bag the morning of the flight up to Toronto, Matthew’s obnoxious singing ringing loudly throughout the house. After combing through the room a third time, you deemed it free and clear of your belongings and headed down the stairs, rolling your suitcase next to Matthew’s and chuckled at the sight before you as you turned towards the kitchen.

Singing horribly out of tune with Dancing Queen blasting on his phone’s speaker, was Matthew dancing like an idiot around the island in the center of his kitchen, eyes closed and belting the lyrics.

“Matthew.”

The live concert comes to an end, Matthew scrambling to pause the music. “Sorry,” he replies, ears tinged red in embarrassment. 

“Hey no complaints from me, but Taryn’s gonna be here in a minute,” you remind him, the fond smile on your face giving away far too much.

Matthew pockets his phone, nodding. He holds your gaze for a second before asking, “Come here?”

As soon as you’re a couple of steps away, Matthew pulls you into his chest and you go with a surprised oof.

“Thank you. For doing this.”

You turn your head into his chest, ear pressed against where his heart was and find comfort in the timed beating while you nod. “You’re welcome,” you mumble, turning your chin up and glancing at him.

Your gazes lock, his blue eyes searching yours. For what, you’re unsure but he seems to find the answers he’s looking for a short minute later, because he gives you another squeeze and steps back, letting out a breath. 

“I’ll grab the bags if you can shut the lights off?”

You’re already on it as Matthew walks away, flipping the switch in the kitchen and checking the backdoor to make sure it’s locked. The living room lights are next, and you meet him at the front door, catching Taryn’s car parked on the curb waiting. 

The drive to the airport is short, the early morning hours more forgiving with traffic and after giving Taryn a quick hug and a promise to text her when you both landed, you stepped away to give her and Matthew some privacy while dropping your bags at the kiosk outside. 

“Ready?” He asks, as you both wave goodbye to Taryn as she pulls away from the curb. 

“Let’s do this.”

The flight is smooth for how short it is, 2 hours passing by quickly. Arriving in Toronto is a nightmare, as usual, and Matthew spends over 30 minutes at the rental car desk trying to figure out where your reservation went. Eventually it gets sorted out and you’re on the road, tucked into the passenger seat of a sports car that you didn’t ask for. 

“If I fall asleep, don’t get mad at me please,” you yawn, pulling your feet up under you to get comfortable and leaning on the center console.

“Want me to turn the radio down?” Matthew doesn’t wait for your answer, his hand going for the volume knob but you stop him, your fingers wrapping around his wrist.

“No, it’s good. I know it helps keep you awake.” Pulling your hand away from his slowly you tuck it underneath your head and nudge your forehead against his arm. “Thank you for driving, by the way.”

“Happy to, honestly. Driving helps me clear my head,” he tells you, glancing down and shooting you a grin.

You’re tempted to ask what’s going on with him- he’s been acting a little out of character since this morning but sense that he’s not ready to talk about it, so you just hum in acknowledgement and turn into your arms, willing for sleep to find you.

Thankfully you manage to fall asleep on the ride up, a small 2 hour nap doing the trick because you wake up feeling rested.

The cottages were set on the lake in Muskoka where everyone would be staying for the wedding and you and Matthew were set to share one with your parents with Connor and Lauren next door in the one they own and spend his off season in. 

Your mom and dad are sat on the front porch in a set of rocking chairs as Matthew pulls up and  you’re quick to jump out of the car once it stops, calling out to them as they wave to you in greeting while he grabs the bags out of the trunk, “Long time, no see!”

Once hellos and introductions are done, with your dad and Matthew bonding what feels like instantly and your mom hugs you so hard you almost can’t breathe, the four of you make the small trek over to Connor and Lauren’s for dinner after dropping your bags off.

Dinner is comfortable, Matthew sat on your right with his arm draped across the back of your chair the whole time. Connor doesn’t give you two any weird looks and you count it as a win as you settle down for the night, avoiding talking about the fact that there’s only one bed in the room while you both brush your teeth. 

“I forget how involved these things are,” Matthew says, leaning against the counter watching while you finish washing your face.

“Weddings? Yeah, I mean. I think this is a little different, though,” you laugh, pat drying your face. “Lauren’s dialed everything up to a thousand for it.”

Matthew nods, thinking about it. “I’ve noticed,” he finally answers with, nudging you out of the bathroom. 

“And there was one bed,” you dramatically announce, sweeping your arms around the room and Matthew honest to god giggles which causes you to start giggling, both of you falling into a heap on the bed, trying to catch your breath.

Clearing his throat, Matthew grunts, “We’re adults, we can share a bed. Right?” His head turns towards yours and you swallow, realizing how close the two of you are. 

If you scooted an inch closer, you’d be able to tilt your head up and press your lips to his and- No.

“Right,” you finally manage to mumble out.

The air is stilted while you both turn down the bed, shuffling under the covers once the light is out and you make sure to stay tucked to your side of the bed, legs curled under you and knees almost hanging off the bed.

This was going to be a long weekend.

—

From morning yoga to late night barbecues, swimming and then rehearsals, you were exhausted. Not to mention keeping up appearances with Matthew: hand holding, arms wrapped around waists, and too many forehead kisses to count were wearing on you. It was starting to feel real and thinking about what was to come when the weekend was over and you’d go your separate ways was overwhelming.

If you were being completely honest with yourself, which was hard enough, was that the last week or so with Matthew had been nothing short of amazing. You didn’t date, really ever. It was hard enough being Connor McDavid’s sister and trying to figure out if someone actually wanted to be with you vs. wanting to know your brother and the perks it comes with but, with Matthew that didn’t exist. You didn’t have to question why he wanted to be around, and while yes, you know each other because of Connor, you were friends in your own right.

The morning of the wedding came quickly, finally managing to get a solid amount of sleep and it was easy to figure out why when you accounted for the fact Matthew’s chest was beneath your cheek when you woke up. So far you’d both managed to keep separate throughout the night, at least as far as you could tell since he was up before you most mornings so this was surprising. 

Matthew shifts beneath you and you peer up as he blinks his eyes open, gaze catching yours. “Sorry,” you mumble, about to roll away when he catches you by the waist to hold you tight to him.

He groans deep in his chest as he stretches out and settles back against the pillows, content with a smile. “Mmm, don’t apologize. This is nice,” he tells you, thumb rubbing against the bare skin of your arm.

You hum in agreement before catching the time on the alarm clock opposite of you and sigh. “It is, but I’ve gotta get up. Bridesmaids duties call and if I’m late, Lauren will murder me and I’ve been having a nice time so I’d like to not ruin that.”

“I have too,” Matthew agrees, “I was nervous at first but it’s been kind of- fun? And having you around hasn’t been too terrible either.”

You pinch him in the side at that and he squawks, shuffling away. “Alright, alright. Damn,” he laughs, jumping out of bed. “I ruined the mood, I get it.”

A knock sounds on the door, your mother’s voice ringing out on the other side. “Sweetie, Lauren just called to make sure you’re awake. We’ve gotta head over soon.”

“I’ll be down in five,” you call back, throwing the covers off and shooting Matthew a glare. 

His hands come up in surrender and you laugh, closing the bathroom door behind you.

You don’t have to do much before leaving, since the ladies are getting ready over at Connor and Lauren’s cottage and the guys are coming here. Washing up and grabbing your bag, you blow a sarcastic kiss to Matthew on your way out and he rolls his eyes and catches it before you leave and your mother just laughs, teasing you for how cute the both of you are. 

The wedding is beautiful, as expected. The guest list is full of people who you’ve known most of your life, who have supported Connor throughout his career, and you’re immensely proud of the person he’s become.

You stand at the altar among Lauren’s best friends and watch your brother get married, near tears, seeing how happy he is. How happy they both are- you’re gaining a sister in her and it’s all kinds of crazy magical, how everything’s come together and that includes having Matthew as your date because he’s been kind of the best. 

Once dinner is done, the cake is cut and the happy couple has come through and been announced and their first dance out of the way, the dance floor opens up and everyone lets loose. The DJ is fun and plays throwback after throwback and Matthew keeps close to you, offering to refill your drink or ask if you need a break when slow songs come on. Eventually you do, toeing off your shoes and hiding them under your chair before slumping into the table. 

“I am pooped,” you whine, blowing your hair out of your face and groaning into your arms. 

“It’s a little early to be tapping out, babe,” Matthew chuckles, finishing off his beer. 

“God, I know. Lauren will kill me if I leave early,” you glance around the dance floor for her and see Celeste behind her, arms wrapped around each other's necks and you smile. “Are you having fun? I’m not keeping you from anything? I know the guys are around here somewhere.”

Matthew’s quick to shake his head, nudging his knee with yours. “Nope, nowhere else I wanna be.” He licks his lips and you track the movement, mesmerized. “And yeah, lots of fun. You’re not too bad of a date.”

You snort, “Thanks. Really appreciate that.”

A few songs later and a discussion of the rest of your summer plans gone, you both join the dance floor again when a slow song hits. Matthew’s hands slide low on your waist and your hands clasp behind his neck, swaying to the beat. The music is soft and you can hear the nighttime noises from the woods behind you, the lapping of the lake against the dock that’s not too far away. It’s calming and Matthew pulls you a little closer, your head just close enough to rest against his chest.

“Have you thought about the favor you want when this is all done?” He wonders, keeping his voice low so only you can hear.

Honestly you’d forgotten all about the deal you’d made- it wasn’t exactly a hardship to play fake girlfriend to Matthew because it wasn’t all that different to how you normally interacted with him. But now that you’re thinking about it, maybe there was something you wanted. More time.

You tell him honestly, “Yeah. Later though,” and tuck your face back into his chest and will for the moment to never end.

—

It does come to an end. The wedding dies down a couple of hours later, Connor and Lauren waving everyone off and thanking the guests for coming. You and Matthew are both sober enough to make the small trek back to the cottage next door and he holds your hand the entire way back, using the excuse of not wanting to lose you in the dark. It’s tempting to call him on it but you don’t want him to let go either.

Your parents are already settled in bed when you both tiptoe up the stairs and you sigh in relief when you’re finally back in the bedroom, closing the door and immediately chucking your heels across the room.

Settling in for the last night, you turn over and feel brave, scooting closer to Matthew in the dark. 

“I don’t think I wanna fly back to Miami tomorrow,” you whisper, heart hammering. “I’ve still got the next week off and I was going to use it to catch up on some things around my apartment but I just. Don’t want to. You’re going back to St. Louis right?”

Matthew turns on his side to face you and you feel warmth spreading through your chest at the way he’s taking you in- like you’re something special, something to be taken care of. 

“Yeah, I was planning on it,” he tells you. “What are you thinking?”

“That I’m ready to cash in my favor.”

“Alright, hit me. What’ve you got?”

The look Matthew’s giving you is encouraging and you suddenly feel brave and steadily say, “Go somewhere with me.”

Matthew reaches across the short distance and his hand catches yours, twining your fingers together and asks, “Where are we going?”

[benispunk]

Good Company

logan howlett x reader

hello!!! guess who's back with a new story...I'm actually a bit nervous about it because I haven't (fully) written a reader insert fic in so long and I don't even know if it's a good depiction of the characters😭 anyway keep in mind that it was hard to write that, English is not my first language, and that I also want to write more, but I'm kind of shy around here. Okay enough about me. Enjoy!!

Wade worries that he’s seriously messed up with Logan, thinking he’s done something so bad that Logan might actually want to destroy him. Unsure of what went wrong, he turns to Y/n, Logan’s girlfriend, for advice.

TW: language, and Wade Wilson I guess.

Y/n was enjoying a quiet evening at her apartment, curled up on her couch with a book, when she heard loud knocks on the door. It was so insistent that she couldn’t help but roll her eyes, already suspecting who it was.

She opened the door to find Wade standing there, with a pizza box in one hand and a six-pack of beer in the other.

« Wade? » She raised an eyebrow. « What are you doing here? »

The man in question grinned brightly, shoving the pizza box toward her face as if it were an offering from a royal subject. « Surprise! I come in peace with gifts, for you, your majesty. I know, I know, you’re probably thinking ‘why is my most handsome friend standing at my door on this particular Friday evening, when I could be enjoying some alone time’- but here’s the thing, I was in the neighborhood, and I needed an excuse to come and see you, sunshine. »

Y/n’s skepticism deepened, her eyebrow arching even higher. « You were in the neighborhood? »

He shrugged, unbothered by the disbelief in her voice. « Fine, I was bored and I needed to see you and get away from the apartment. »

She frowned slightly, trying to figure out if there was more to this visit than he was letting on. « Alright, Wade. Come on in. »

Wade didn’t need a second invitation. He strolled into the apartment, setting the pizza and beer on the coffee table before flopping down on the couch with the ease of someone who had done this a thousand times before. Y/n followed, sitting beside him, her curiosity piqued.

« Okay, spill it. What’s going on? » Y/n asked, tilting her head as she studied him.

Wade cracked open a beer, took a long sip, and then let out a dramatic sigh. « First, I did really miss you and I’m so happy to see you »

Y/n softened at that, a small smile playing on her lips. « I’m happy to see you too, Wade. But what is it? »

« Second… » Wade’s usual bravado faltered slightly as he searched for the right words. « You know how Logan’s got that permanent scowl like he’s auditioning for ‘Grumpiest Man Alive’? Lately, though, it feels like he’s been directing all that grumpiness at me. I’m used to him being grumpy—kind of comes with the territory—but now it’s like he’s gone from ‘mildly annoyed’ to ‘seriously, get out of my sight.’ »

He paused, looking down at the beer in his hand, his fingers fidgeting with the label. « And I know I’m an asshole and I annoy him every single minute of his life- like a sugar rush and a headache all rolled into one- but he’s been kind of on the verge of trashing down the place all because of one stupid joke. So I’ve been trying, or at least I think so, to be less…the annoying bitch that I am, but I feel like he’s getting worse with me? I’m trying to laugh it off, but honestly, it’s kind of eating at me, Y/n. You’re pretty much the Logan-whisperer—got any insights? »

Y/n’s expression softened at Wade’s revelation. She reached over and squeezed his arm gently. « Logan’s got a lot on his mind and, as you may know, he doesn’t know how to deal with that. And I think that, because he doesn't know how to express all of those things, and the fact that it takes a lot for him to open up, he might be pushing you away. He did the same thing with me at the beginning of our relationship. It was fuckin’ hard to deal with but I couldn’t let him do that. »

« Yeah, but your his girl. It's different. What if he decides he’s done with me? I mean, who else is gonna put up with my charming personality and endless movie references? » Wade’s attempt at humor fell flat, his unease still evident. 

She chuckled softly, shaking her head.

« Sorry, I just- It’s just that I- ugh. Do I need to pay you at the end of this therapy session, counselor? »

« Go on, Wade. » Y/n urged, her tone gentle but firm.

He sighed, leaning back against the couch. « He’s my buddy. I don’t want to lose him. And I especially don’t want to be the reason he’s leaving me. I would rather have you telling him to stop being friends with me. If he even considers me as a friend…»

Y/n cut him off, her voice firm. « Of course, he does! You’re his friend, Wade. Probably one of the best at that. Never doubt that, trust me. And I’m sorry he has you feeling that way. Those walls he put up around himself, it’s not for his own safety, he truly believes that he’s a danger for others. Whatever he does to you, it’s because he cares too much about you to be a burden in your life. He’s a fucking idiot for that, yes. It hurts even more to know that, yes. And I’m certainly not trying to defend him, but you should know that I had to work hard to break those damn walls. »

Wade stared at her, a mixture of hope and disbelief in his eyes. « You know, for someone who spends so much time with a guy who barely talks, you’re pretty good at this whole talking thing. »

She smiled, her heart warming at the sight of Wade starting to relax. « Takes a lot of practice. »

As they settled into their usual banter, Wade felt a little lighter, knowing that Y/n understood his concerns and had reassured him. Logan might be tough to figure out, but with Y/n in the picture, Wade felt like maybe things would be okay.

He grinned, the familiar mischief returning to his eyes. « I’ll fight for our man »

Y/n laughed, shaking her head in amusement. « You’re ridiculous. »

Wade took another sip of his beer, his grin widening. « Yeah, but you love me for it. »

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the fond smile that tugged at her lips. « Yeah, I guess I do. »

___

Logan found himself standing outside Y/n’s apartment door, hesitating. He could hear muffled sounds of laughter from inside, recognizing Wade’s loud one. With a heavy sigh, he pushed the door open.

Inside, Y/n and Wade were on the couch, a pizza box and empty beer bottles cluttered on the coffee table. Wade was in the middle of an animated story, and Y/n was smiling at him. The sight made his chest tighten. He’d been so wrapped up in his own head lately that he hadn’t even noticed how much he was distancing himself from all of this. 

Wade spotted him first, grinning from ear to ear. « Hey, Logan. Decided to join the party after all? »

Logan grunted, closing the door a little harsher than he intended, making Y/n jumped at the sound. « Didn’t expect to find you here. »

Y/n smile faded slightly, sensing the tension in the room. She moved on the couch, making space for Logan beside her. « We were just hanging out, figured you might want to join us » she said.

Logan hesitated, his eyes lingering on Wade for a moment before he finally sat down. The silence that followed was thick, the easy banter from earlier replaced by a heavy, unspoken tension. Y/n could feel Logan’s frustration radiating off him, and Wade’s nervous energy was practically palpable.

« So… » Wade started, trying to fill the uncomfortable silence. « You, uh, missed some prime pizza. And I even saved you a slice. It’s in the kitchen, waiting for you, like a good little slice of heaven. »

Logan just grunted again, staring at the coffee table instead of acknowledging the gesture. Y/n felt the tension mounting and knew she had to do something before things got worse.

She gently nudged Logan with her elbow, giving him a small, encouraging smile. « Maybe you should eat something. Might help you feel better. »

Logan glanced at her, his hard exterior softening just a bit under her gaze. But before he could respond, Wade cleared his throat, drawing both of their attention back to him.

« Listen, Logan, » Wade began, his usual bravado faltering as he tried to sound casual. « I know I’m not exactly Mr. Sensitivity, but…have I done something to piss you off more than usual? You’ve been, uh, a little more…murderous lately, and I’m starting to think it’s not just my charming personality. »

Logan frowned. « What are you talking about? You’re always fucking annoying, bub. »

Wade forced a laugh, but there was an edge of vulnerability in his voice that Logan couldn’t ignore. « Yeah, I know, but it feels like I’m more of a target than usual. Like, did I cross some line? Or is it just me being my usual, lovable self? »

Y/n squeezed Logan’s hand gently, trying to ground him.

He looked at her, his frustration battling with the guilt that was slowly taking over. Admitting that something was wrong was never easy for him. He sighed, running a hand through his hair, clearly conflicted.

« It’s not…It’s not you, Wade, » Logan finally muttered, though his tone was still gruff. « I’ve got a lot of stuff on my mind and, uh, I guess I’ve been taking it out on you. »

Wade’s expression shifted, a mixture of relief and concern. « Okay, so…what’s on your mind, then? Maybe I can help. Or, at least, I can try to stop doing whatever it is that’s making you want to claw my face off. »

Logan didn’t answer right away, his eyes darting between Wade and Y/n. He could see the worry in her eyes, the way she was trying to keep the peace between them. It only made him feel worse. He wasn’t used to people caring so much, and it unsettled him.

« It’s nothing you can help with, » Logan said after a long pause, his voice softer now. « Just…shit I’m dealing with. Doesn’t mean I hate you, Wade. Just means I’m not great at dealing with stuff. Also, you’re still a pain in the ass. »

Wade nodded, the tension in his shoulders easing just a little. « Okay, I can get that. I appreciate it. But, you know, I’m not exactly great at feelings and all that, but I’m here if you need to… I don’t know, punch something or whatever. »

Logan managed a small smile at that, finally meeting Wade’s gaze. « Yeah, I know that. Thanks. »

Wade grinned, his usual energy starting to return. “Well, now that we’ve had our little therapy session, how about we crack open another beer and watch a good movie? It’s like the ultimate bonding experience. And what’s the best thing for that? A fucking musical.”

Logan’s expression immediately soured. « You’ve got to be kidding me. »

Wade’s grin only grew. « Oh yeah, peanut! »

Y/n laughed, her eyes twinkling with excitement as Logan let out an exaggerated groan, his shoulders slumping as he reluctantly gave in.

Wade chuckled and patted Logan on the back. « Let’s fucking go. »

As they settled onto the couch, Logan couldn’t help but shake his head in amusement. Despite his grumbling, there was a genuine warmth in his eyes as he looked at Y/n and Wade. He found himself laughing at Wade’s over-the-top dance moves and Y/n’s infectious joy.

Logan glanced at his girlfriend, who was practically glowing with happiness as she sang along to the movie’s songs. It was clear he was enjoying himself, even if he wouldn’t admit it out loud.

___

Later that night, after Wade had left and they were alone again, Logan stayed behind at Y/n’s apartment. He was still living with Wade but coming back home after tonight wasn’t the best idea. He needed the calm he found in Y/n’s home. They sat together on the couch, the remnants of their evening scattered around them.

« You know, you handled that pretty well. » she said softly.

Logan let out a long breath, leaning back against the couch. « Yeah, well, didn’t feel like it at the time. »

« But you did, and that’s what matters. » she insisted, turning to look at him.

He looked down at her, his gaze softening as he reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. « I don’t know what I’d do without you. »

She smiled, leaning into his touch. « Lucky for you, you won’t have to find out. »

Logan pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her and resting his chin on top of her head. For the first time in a while, he felt like things were starting to make sense again.

He tilted his head slightly, brushing his lips against the top of her head. She lifted her head up, catching his gaze, her eyes reflecting a mixture of affection and relief. Logan's eyes softened as he looked at her, the weight of the past few days seeming to lift.

He leaned in, pressing his lips against hers, soft and slow, as if she was made of glass. The most precious thing in his heart. Y/n's hands found their way to the back of his neck, pulling him closer as she deepened the kiss.

When they finally pulled back, their foreheads rested together, both of them breathing a little heavier.

Logan searched her eyes, his voice soft and sincere, a contrast to his usual gruff. « I love you. »

Y/n’s lips curled up. « I love you too, Lo. »

For the first time in a while, he felt a deep sense of peace. And as they sat there, surrounded by the soft glow of the apartment, he knew that, no matter what challenges lay ahead, they’d be okay. They’ll always find a way.

xx

Thank you for reading <3

[blackenedsnow]

If you’re lookin’ for requests could we get a continuation of your Beetlejuice fic? Like, what sorts of things does Beej do through the house/apartment to prank you? What’s he do when/if you have to leave to go to work? I imagine he’d tag along incognito sometimes. How would that go? (I don’t send many fic requests so if this is a weird way to do it I’m sorry. But I figured if you’re asking for them I can brainstorm a little 😅)

dead guys got it made

WARNING: None

PAIRING: Beetlejuice x Reader

NOTE: No need to apologize! I love the direction you're taking with this. I'd be happy to continue the story!!

SUMMARY: Chaos ensues, of course

PART ONE: Here

The days after your reluctant agreement to let Beetlejuice stay in your home were, in a word, chaotic. He seemed to take your "don’t destroy the place" comment as more of a suggestion than an actual rule. Sure, he didn’t tear down walls or summon any maggots (yet), but there was plenty of mischief to go around.

You woke up one morning to find your living room furniture rearranged—your couch upside down on the ceiling, the TV somehow playing reruns of sitcoms from the ‘80s, and the floor covered in what looked like tiny plastic insects. You groaned, rubbing your temples as Beetlejuice appeared next to you, a wide grin plastered on his face.

"Pretty good, huh?" he asked, looking up at the couch hanging from the ceiling. "Took me all night, but I think it really adds to the ambiance."

"BJ," you muttered, staring at the mess, "how many times do I have to tell you? No messing with the furniture."

He cackled, snapping his fingers. Instantly, the room righted itself—couch back on the floor, TV back to normal. But the plastic bugs? Still there. "Alright, alright, no more redecorating. But I gotta keep things interesting, babes. Can’t have you getting bored, now can we?"

You bent down to scoop up the bugs, sighing. "I’m starting to think my life was less stressful before you showed up."

"Ah, but way more boring," Beetlejuice quipped, following you into the kitchen as you grabbed a coffee mug. "Admit it, you’d miss me if I wasn’t around to spice things up."

You ignored him, focusing instead on your workday ahead. “I’ve got to head to work soon,” you said, mostly to yourself, as you filled your mug. “You’re staying here today, right?”

“Sure, sure,” he said with a wave of his hand, leaning against the counter. “I’ll be good. Maybe I’ll watch some TV, raid your fridge, haunt your neighbors—you know, normal dead guy stuff.”

You shot him a look, trying to gauge how much of that was a joke. You were still figuring him out, trying to balance how much you could tolerate and how much you liked having him around. It was… complicated. But lately, the thought of leaving him alone in your home was almost more stressful than having him tag along. Still, you weren’t sure you could handle Beetlejuice at work, of all places.

"Alright," you said, setting your mug down, "I’ll trust you. Just… try not to haunt anyone this time, okay?"

Beetlejuice smirked, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Cross my heart, babe,” he said, drawing a line over his chest. You didn’t trust that for a second, but you had no choice but to leave him behind and head out.

At Work

Everything seemed fine at first. You settled into your routine, the normalcy of it all providing a brief reprieve from your unusual houseguest. But then, halfway through the morning, you noticed something off.

Your pen was missing. And not just missing—floating midair, inches from your hand.

"Beetlejuice.," you hissed under your breath, scanning the room for any sign of him. Sure enough, from the corner of your eye, you saw a familiar flash of black and white dart behind a filing cabinet.

Of course he’d followed you. You should’ve known.

“Get back here,” you muttered, glancing around to make sure no one else saw the floating pen.

Suddenly, Beetlejuice appeared right next to you, leaning against your desk with a smug grin. He was dressed in some sort of disguise—a ridiculous pair of sunglasses and a baseball cap that didn’t hide anything. “Nice place you got here, babe. Real lively.”

You groaned, dropping your head into your hands. “I told you to stay at home.”

“Yeah, well, I got bored,” he said with a shrug. “Thought I’d see how my favorite breather spends their day.”

“This is not going to end well,” you mumbled, already dreading the inevitable..

The At-Work Antics

Beetlejuice, to his credit, tried to behave—for all of five minutes. Then the pranks began. It started small: pens going missing, your keyboard typing random words on its own. But as the day wore on, he grew bolder.

At one point, your boss, Mr. Thompson, came by to drop off some news. You tried to stay focused, nodding along as he talked, but out of the corner of your eye, you saw Beetlejuice sneaking up behind him, his eyes full of mischief.

"Don’t," you mouthed, but it was too late.

With a flick of his hand, Beetlejuice made Mr. Thompson’s tie start dancing—literally. The fabric wriggled and twisted as though it had a life of its own, and you watched in horror as your boss froze, staring down at his tie in confusion.

“What the—” Mr. Thompson muttered, tugging at the tie, but it kept moving.

You shot Beetlejuice a death glare, mouthing “Stop it” as discreetly as possible. He just winked, looking way too pleased with himself, and finally let the tie drop limp again.

Mr. Thompson blinked, bewildered, but seemed to shake it off. “Must be static or something,” he muttered before walking off, completely unaware of the ghostly trickster behind him.

You exhaled in relief. “Beej, I swear…”

“Hey, I didn’t get caught, did I?” Beetlejuice cackled, clearly enjoying himself. “Lighten up, honey. You gotta admit, that was funny.”

“You’re going to get me fired,” you hissed, though you couldn’t completely stifle the laugh bubbling up in your chest.

For the rest of the day, Beetlejuice stayed close, pulling small pranks here and there. A co-worker’s coffee inexplicably turned neon green, another’s stapler kept vanishing from their desk. Every time you saw that flash of stripes, your heart raced in equal parts anxiety and amusement.

After Work

By the time you made it home, you were exhausted. Beetlejuice had finally vanished, likely slipping back to your home long before you could leave. When you walked through the door, he was sprawled across the couch as usual, looking far too smug.

“Fun day at work?” he asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

“You’re a menace,” you muttered, dropping your bag on the floor. “A complete and utter menace.”

“And yet, you didn’t banish me,” he shot back, his grin widening. “So… you really do love having me around.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t quite argue with him. As frustrating as it was having him tag along—and as much as he drove you crazy—you had to admit, life was a lot less lonely with him in it.

“Maybe,” you muttered, flopping onto the couch beside him. “Just… try not to get me fired next time, alright?”

Beetlejuice chuckled, tossing an arm around your shoulders. “No promises, toots. But I’ll try not to ruin your life.”

It wasn’t much, but it was something.

[dira333]

Cupid on a mission - Sugawara x Reader

Featuring: @screamin-abt-haikyuu x Asahi and @6okuto x Akaashi

Tagging: @lees-chaotic-brain can you spot the fic exchange I put in here?

"Whatever you can do, I can do better," you say, chewing at the straw of your drink as you flutter your eyelashes up at Sugawara and Sawamura.

Daichi groans. “Don’t start,” he mutters under his breath, but Koushi’s already leaning in, teasing smirk dancing on his lips.

“Oh? You think you’re better than me? Please.”

“Tanaka and Kiyoko? That was me,” you beam, pointing at yourself with your thumb. “What do you have to show for yourself?”

“Going to Nationals?” Daichi asks only to raise his hands when both you and Koushi turn to send him an unimpressed glare.

“Listen, hotshot,” Koushi’s putting an arm around your shoulders as he speaks. With anyone else, you might think he’s trying to flirt, but this is Koushi. You’d know if he flirted with you.

“Why do you think Kageyama is the favorite Volleyball player in all Karasuno? Among the girls, at least.”

You furrow your brows and pout. “That’s not that hard. You’re working with a quiet canvas here. As long as he doesn’t try to smile, he’s pretty good-looking.”

“You want something ha-”

“Asahi,” Daichi interrupts, “You could try and set up Asahi.”

You turn toward him and Koushi follows, his arm still snug around you. He’s wearing one of those ridiculous cardigans today that make him look like the sweetest little librarian ever, although you’ve learned to fear the prankster behind the facade. It’s also ridiculously soft and you want to curl into it, not that you’d ever try.

“With whom?” Koushi asks, one step behind you. You’ve had your eyes set on a particular pair for a while now, but Asahi is already anxious enough. You don’t want to give him a heart attack.

“I think he has a crush on-”

“Already ahead of you,” you interrupt Daichi and pat Koushi’s hand, slipping out of his grasp. “Watch and learn, young Padawan.”

You feel his eyes on you as you walk on, slip through the open door from the kitchen into the living room, where Nishinoya has challenged Hinata to a dance battle. 

It’s not that hard to spot Asahi when you know what you’re looking for. A quiet spot, away from the spotlight, but where he can keep an eye on either Nishinoya or… ah, there she is.

Zaira’s chatting with Yachi and Kiyoko, wearing a cardigan not unlike Koushi- whelp, no time to think about him, you’ve got work to do.

“Hey,” you greet your friend with a smile, “Sorry, I got distracted. Daichi brought his mother’s Pizza Pockets. Can you play along for a moment?”

“Play along?” Zaira asks, a little confused, but takes your hand. 

“Sorry,” you say to both Yachi and Kiyoko, “I gotta steal her for a second. I’ve got something to prove.”

Yachi’s mouth is hanging open - but Kiyoko just grins, probably because she’s already figured out what this is all about. She knows the Third-Years better than anyone else.

“Where are we going?” Zaira asks as you make your way through the room toward the door to the backyard.

“Asahi, Hi!” You smile, “Wanna come along, get some fresh air?”

He blushes, but nods, eyes flickering between you and Zaira as he steps out into the chill of the evening.

“Oh,” you say as if you’ve forgotten something, “Could you hold this for me, Asahi?”

You look into his eyes and drop Zaira’s hand, small and warm, into his.

His hand closes around hers and they follow along for a few steps until it registers.

Asahi’s face bursts into flames and Zaira stutters like the fool in love that she is. 

“It’s really nice outside, don’t you think?” You say, walking toward the trees in the back where the leaves have turned red and gold. From the corner of your eye, you can see that they’re still holding hands, looking in opposite directions, unable to speak.

And behind them, illuminated by the lights in the house, Koushi’s leaning in the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. He looks cozy and warm and like he might admit that he’s lost this bet.

“I’m sorry,” Zaira rips her hand out of Asahi’s grasp at that moment, ruining your little fantasy of rubbing your win into Koushi’s face. “I didn’t- that wasn’t- I didn’t…”

Asahi’s staring at his hand, completely missing the look of betrayal Zaira throws you as she storms away.

“Why did you do that?” Asahi asks, his voice strangely broken. He blinks at you. 

“I…” 

“Because she knows that you like Zaira,” Koushi announces, stepping closer. “And she’s not above using steamroller tactics to get you two together.”

“But I don’t want that-” Asahi croaks and Koushi has the audacity to wink at you as he wraps an arm around his friend. “I know, I know. Come on, let’s get inside and we’ll talk about it. I do have an idea…”

-

“Koushi’s still in bed,” his mother announces when you show up at his house the next morning. 

It worries you a little that she’s not the least bit concerned about you barging in on her son. Has she too already picked up on the fact that Koushi’s not into you? But who could he be into? Yachi? No, she’s too timid. 

You’re still debating that question when you hammer your fist against his door, wait one second, and then burst through.

Koushi blinks at you, shirtless, hair a mess, with a crease on his cheek from the pillow.

“Am I dreaming?” He asks, voice raspy from sleep.

You stare at him, speechless for a good minute before you catch yourself.

“I need to know what you told Asahi last night.”

“Mhm,” he hums low in his throat, curling into his blanket again. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“I do.” You step closer. 

His room is unusually tidy for a guy his age, not that you don’t know that already. You’ve spent more than enough hours in here, studying for exams. 

On the chair by his desk rests a jacket that looks oddly familiar.

“Is that mine?” You ask, walking over. 

“What?”

“The jacket.”

“I think so. You left it here last time you came over.”

“And you didn’t give it back to me?”

“I was going to, but I forgot about it,” he waves it off like it’s nothing.

“We see each other every day in school and you forget about it?”

“I had other things on my mind.”

“Like what?”

“Graduating, for example?”

You press your lips together. You can’t argue against that.

“What did you say to Asahi, Koushi? Are you sabotaging my plan of getting them together just so you can pretend you’re better than me?”

“I am better than you. At least at this game.”

“Please,” you scoff. “Name one couple you made happen?”

He smiles, clearly pleased that you asked.

“Oh, gladly,” he slips out of bed, grinning when your eyes immediately shoot to his face. It wouldn’t be the first time you saw him in just his boxers, but the last time happened so long ago, it doesn’t really count.

“Takeda-Sensei and the cute Journalist.”

You scoff. “That was too easy. She was basically throwing herself at him.”

“Coach Ukai and his childhood friend.”

You bite down on your tongue. That one was a hard one, you had to give him that.

“Fine, that one was good,” you begrudgingly give in, “But so was-”

“Ah,” he grins, holding up one hand. He’s halfway in his pants and you roll your eyes as you wait for him to continue. 

“Akaashi and that girl that went to Nekoma… what was her name again?” 

“Nia. And it doesn’t really count if you don’t even know her name.”

“Please, they both needed that push.”

“Still-” He interrupts you again.

“And there’s that really cute couple… ah, no, I can’t tell you about that yet.”

“Yet? What does that mean? Who are you- Koushi! Are you planning on setting someone up? Who?”

“Not telling,” he smirks and pretends to close his mouth and throw away the key.

“You’re a menace.”

“You love it.”  You grimace behind his back. He’s right, but you’d rather die than admit it.

-

“Where are we going?” You ask half an hour later when he steps out of the bathroom, hair now just as messy, but in a different way. You wanna drag your hands through it, but you’d rather chew off your fingers one by one than admit that.

“Follow Asahi around as he confesses his feelings to Zaira.”

“What?” You’re on your feet in a heartbeat. “When? Why? How did you manage-?”

“I told you,” he preens, “I am better at this than you.”

“You’re not.”

“Am too. Mom, we’re going out.”

“Okay, stay safe you too.” She pops her head around the kitchen door. “And come over more often. It’s nice having you here.”

“Oh, erm, yes, thank you,” you stammer. This invite might have been cute when you were kids, but now it just feels weird. 

-

“Why are you staring at me?” You ask Koushi. You don’t know where you’re going and he’s refusing to tell you, but that doesn’t mean you won’t notice if he keeps looking at your face for over five minutes. If he’d been anyone else you might have thought he’d finally noticed your beauty or found some hidden feelings for you in the back of his ink-black heart. But this is Koushi, and you know to expect the worst.

“Nothing, just… are your eyebrows uneven?”

“They’re not!” You exclaim on instinct, though grabbing your phone to check. 

“Take a picture,” Koushi orders, and the tone in his voice has you follow through, starting the timer. Usually, when his voice sounds like this, something fun is going to happen.

He leans in, face serious, so you keep yours similar. Then, right when the countdown runs out, he presses his lips to your cheek.

Your heart lurches into your throat and you have half your mind to turn your phone away, not yet ready to examine the face you made.

“What was that about?” You all but whisper-yell, trying to be conscious of the people riding the train with you even though your heart wants to lurch out of your chest and slap him in the face.

Koushi grins and rests his head on your shoulder. “Not telling,” he hums low and even though you try to push him off, he’s staying exactly where he is. A menace, clearly.

-

There is no sight of Asahi whatsoever.

“We’re pretty early,” Koushi guides you toward a coffee shop, the colorful pastries literally screaming at you to get one. “Let’s get breakfast first.”

“I just had breakfast.”

“And now you’ll have it again. You still drink Chai Latte?”

“Yeah, but-”

“Let me guess, the lemon pie?” He points at an adorable little creation, the yellow color brightening your mood just by being in your field of vision. You pout.

“I don’t like it when you know me that well.”

“Sorry, not sorry. What do I like? You know that?”

“Of course,” you boast, “I’ve been forced to be around you for far too long not to know that. You like everything spicy, so I’d get the chocolate chilli parfait for you. And you’re a wuss, so you drink Hot Chocolate.”

“I do drink Hot Chocolate,” he confirms with a smile, “but I think I’d prefer something sweet today.”

“Ah,” you cock your head to the side to look him up and down. “That doesn’t sound like you.”

“Well, but it is me. - Yes, we’d like one Chai Latte, one Hot Chocolate, the Lemon Pie and the Unicorn Roll please.”

“The Unicorn Roll?” You ask him, voice dropped low. 

He smiles in a way that leads all attention back to that awful mole next to his eye. It looks like it’s winking at you.

“Yes, The Unicorn Roll.”

It’s a monstrosity of cream and marshmallows, decorated in colorful sprinkles and topped with a tuft of rainbow cotton candy. You’ve wanted to try it ever since it came into fashion, but just looking at it has your teeth hurt and you can never betray your loyalty to everything lemon flavored anyway.

But looking at it now, sitting in front of Koushi as if it’s just a normal dessert, it wipes everything Asahi out of your brain.

It almost makes you miss the fact that Koushi’s paying.

“I can pay for myself,” you insist, a little too late, but he’s already pushing you forward, a warm hand at the small of your back.

“Can I try yours?” Koushi asks and you’re still a little out of it, pushing your plate toward his.

“You wanna try mine?”

“I- yes…” You blink, before digging your fork in, taking out the left eye of the poor little Unicorn.

“I don’t think this qualifies as breakfast,” you groan once your mouth is empty again, thinking fast how you could possibly get another forkful of this delicacy.

“Doesn’t matter though, right?” Koushi digs his fork into your lemon pie and you take that as an invitation to take out the right eye as well.

-

“You know…” you ask between bites, now taking freely from both plates, “I apologized to Zaira. I said I was sure Asahi was going to confess now, and that I’d give him a little push. I still need to know what you told him so I don’t lose a friend as well.”

“Mhm…” He puckers his lips as he’s thinking, now slightly tinted pink by the cotton candy. “I suppose I could tell you.”

“I suppose you could.”

“I told him I’d confess my feelings if he’d confess his.”

Your fork drops loudly onto the table and you almost toss your cup off it as you try to grab it, trying to look as if you didn’t care about his words at all.

“Pretty… uh, pretty bold of you, don’t you think?”

“Well, not really. I’m pretty confident she feels the same way.”

“Oh, but does Asahi know that too?”

“Well, yes. He said it wasn’t a fair exchange, but he’d still try.”

“And how is he going to do it?” You ask, hand curled around your fork in a tight fist. You don’t want to talk about Koushi confessing. Asahi confessing is a much safer topic.

Koushi checks his phone. “He’s doing it right now. He’s meeting up with Zaira at that little park across from her house.”

Your mouth falls open.

“At the park?”

“Obviously,” Koushi smiles, eyes twinkling. “Do you think he’d confess in the open? Where all the people can see him? No way.”

“But… but why are we here then?”

Koushi’s smile changes to something softer and your heart lurches, slipping into your throat. Breathing is suddenly impossible.

You need to get out of here, fast.

“I need to go,” you manage to push out, grabbing your bag from beneath the table.

You don’t look back, but all the way down the street you don’t hear him follow you. 

Well… it’s settled then. You’ll have to move to Tokyo. 

No way you can show your face again after booking it out of there like this.

Now he’s surely going to think you like him.

-

The swings are vacant, the ground covered in leaves.

You pull your phone out of your bag, not surprised to find a flurry of messages from Zaira, each one of them more ecstatic.

And even though you gave them a push, it’s pretty clear that you’re not the one responsible for her happiness. At least not this time.

“Chai Latte, slightly chilled for the Miss?” A voice asks behind you.

“I’m not in the mood for jokes,” you tell him, not surprised when he still settles on the swing beside you.

“No jokes, I promise.”

You huff, but accept the paper cup of Chai Latte, sipping it instead of looking at him.

For a while no one says anything.

“If you’d confessed first, I’d have won a bet,” Koushi announces eventually, making you halt your movement to turn to him.

“You bet on me confessing to you?”

“First. I bet on you confessing first.”

“With who?”

“My mom,” he admits, blushing slightly. “She called me out on my crush during Junior High.”

Your jaw falls open. “That was when you used to pull on my hair!”

“It looked really cute!” Koushi defends himself. “And you always got all huffy and paid me more attention than anyone else.”

“That’s disturbing.”

“It’s honest. But I… I really like you. And you are better than me in some things. Not all things, but some things.”

You purse your lips. “For example?”

Koushi smiles. “Wouldn’t you like to know? I’m better at kissing though.”

“Prove it,” you hiss and his smile turns into a grin.

“Gladly.”

-

-x-

Dread’s creeping up your spine. 

“Oh no,” you announce to the table, interrupting Yachi and Zaira’s quiet conversation. “Koushi’s getting bored.”

“How can you tell?” Yachi asks.

“Can’t you?” You ask, just as the door opens.

“Baby?” Koushi asks, dragging the syllables, “You’ve not paid me any attention for at least fifteen minutes, that can’t be healthy.”

“You’re a big baby.”

“And you love me. What does that say about you?”

“That I have no taste?”

“No, you have a lot of taste.” He grins, propping his head on your shoulder and squinting down at the table. “Oh, I like that color for your nails. I saw some shoes that would fit really well the other day.”

“We cannot buy another pair of shoes.”

“Mhm, we cannot, but I can.”

You huff and roll your eyes. “You’ll never save money that way.”

He grins and presses a kiss to your cheek. 

“Girls,” he addresses your friends then, “I have to take her away for a minute or two. Important business, you understand. Zaira, Asahi’s in the kitchen. You should join him, maybe, because Tanaka’s trying to talk him into cutting his hair. Oh and Yachi, Tsukishima is-”

“Tsukishima is being annoying?” You interrupt your boyfriend, sending him a glare. He will not ruin your plans for Yachi. “We already know that. You can stay here if you want, I’ll be back shortly.”

“Mhm, not if I have anything to say in that matter,” Koushi announces, dragging you out of the room. The giggling of your friends follows you, but you don’t really think too much about it.

There are other things on your mind. 

Koushi’s hand in yours, or the smile he’s throwing at you, or the fact that he’s not pulling you into the living room or an empty bedroom, but outside, where it’s freezing..

You might love him, but you’ll shove his face into the snow for that.

Tip me?

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Hello!! I'm always looking for fics where Stiles doesn't think he's pack (or is told he isn't pack) until the group tells him how much they care about him. Got anything like that?

Here you go @talldren!

Cuddle Me Pack by AlexTheShipper

(1/1 I 2,540 I General I Sterek)

The pack realizes they have been injuring Stiles on accident, and completely stop touching him to avoid the problem. Stiles is left touch starved and lonely, and feels he's no longer part of the pack.

Welcome to Your Life (There's No Turning Back) by KilledTheQueen

(1/1 I 17,744 I Explicit I Sterek)

The plane banks left and Stiles peers through the small oval window just catching a glimpse of the LA Skyline. He’s home. Well, not home, but in his country of origin at least, in his home state, just a three hour drive to Beacon Hills, to his home and Scott. It’s been over a year since Stiles sat in his home room and listened to a rep from a foreign exchange program wax poetically about the benefits of experiencing life in another country. At the time he’d brushed it off with a ‘hey that sounds amazing but I’ve got hunters and werewolves to deal with’ but then there were EVENTS that took place and one month later Stiles found himself on a plane to London. It’s been sixteen months since he’s has set foot on American soil and all in all Stiles thinks it should feel weirder when he steps off the plane and into LAX.

Flat Tires & Subtle Hugs by XAnima_Bellax

(6/6 I 13,045 I Teen I Sterek)

When Scott and his mom moves away, Stiles stops hanging with the pack. He'd rather be on his own than hang around a pack that isn't his. Everything is fine, except his tires keep ending up flat and random people seem to be hugging him.

Needed by Asterekmess (Livinginfictions)

(6/6 I 16,865 I Teen I Sterek)

Stiles knows he doesn't bring anything to the pack, but if that's true, why does Derek come to him for help?

Pulling the Pieces Together by fireflystiles (cuddlehazz)

(1/1 I 34,295 I Teen I Sterek)

“You never have hurt anyone. Not then and not now. You just made Coach piss his pants and that’s funny shit there.” Jackson told Stiles. They all underestimated how responsible Stiles felt for the Nogitsune and what happened. No wonder he was afraid to go near the pack, not to mention the whole no control over magic thing. He felt Stiles huff out a breath at the part about Coach which was a good start.

Or after the Nogitsune, Stiles keeps secrets, there are new people in Beacon Hills, and the Pack has fallen apart. Stiles starts to figure out his role in the pack, piecing it back together, and trying to keep everyone safe.

[smileysuh]

Filthy

🌙 staring. Joshua & Jeonghan x afab!Reader

🔮 synopsis. There’s something long and hard rubbing against your ass, and you can’t help but pull away from Joshua to drop your favourite lawyer pickup line to the man behind you; “Is that a gavel in your pants? Or are you just happy to see me?” “Both,” Jeonghan practically purs, his mouth hot against your neck. “Think you can handle it?”

tw/cw. threesome, unprotected sex, multiple sex scenes, blow job, shower sex, double penetration, butt stuff, use of a judge's gavel as an anal sex toy, lube, praise, degradation, dirty talk, spanking, cock warming, fingering, hand riding, slight roleplay, beefy/size kink Joshua, polyamory, breast play, masturbation, 'full' kink, etc... I petnames. (hers) gorgeous, baby, filthy little whore.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 6.8k

🍭 aus. Lawyer!Jihan, polyamory, established relationship, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. the Joshua/Jeonghan pairing always does something to me, and now it can do something to you too. special thank you to @junkissed for helping me figure this fic out :)

It’s nights like these where you have to be very secure in yourself to be in a relationship with not one but two of the top lawyers in your city. Evenings spent cooking dinner in the hope they’ll be able to make it home in time to eat with you often end up with you feeling a little lonely and picking at your food, two seats empty at your table.

You have to remind yourself that this is their job, that they try their best, and when they do finally come home, you have to greet them with a smile. There’s no room for blame on nights like these. 

“Sorry we’re so late, gorgeous,” Jeonghan apologizes immediately when they arrive home, setting down his briefcase and opening his arms to pull you into an embrace. One of his hands moves up to cup your cheek, and the kiss he places on your lips lingers. “The litigation team found an entire file of information that’s applicable to the court hearing tomorrow.”

“We just spent three hours going over it,” Joshua sighs, hanging his coat up in the closet.

The younger of your boyfriends looks much more tired than Jeonghan does, but Joshua’s always had a lower tolerance for unexpected turns in cases. You know he must have been seething when they discovered the file, and your heart goes out to him.

“That sounds rough,” you say sympathetically, turning your attention to the beautiful, exhausted man. “What can I do to help?” you ask as you begin to pepper kisses along his jaw, working your way to his pretty lips. “Are you hungry?”

“We ate at the firm,” Jeonghan tells you. “Soonyoung went out and got us all burgers.”

You smile at the mention of your long time friend, he’s one of their errand boys, and it sounds like none of your close acquaintances have had a good night. Sure, a part of you deflates a little- you’d prepared their meals, and the food is still waiting for them in the kitchen, but you suppose that’s easy clean up.

“I guess you two will be wanting to go to bed,” you sigh. “You’ve both got to get up at six, right?”

“I’m sorry,” Joshua matches your exacerbated tone, and he’s frowning while looking down at you. “I know you hate it when we miss dinner.”

“It’s alright,” you assure him, gently smoothing your hands along his broad chest before giving him a small pat and pulling away. “This is part of the job. I’ve got to go put the food away.”

“We should have texted you,” Jeonghan offers, “but it was a mad scramble at the firm.”

“Like I said, it’s alright,” you smile softly. “You’ve had long days, go relax, I’ll meet you in the bedroom when I’m done in the kitchen.”

With a nod, Joshua heads down the hall, but Jeonghan lingers. “I’ll help you clean up,” he tells you after a moment of consideration.

“Thank you.” 

The two of you relocate to the kitchen. It’s late, and like your boyfriends, you’re also moving a little slower than normal. 

It helps to have another set of hands, even if they’re on your hips while Jeonghan presses himself against your back. “Looks like you made a great dinner tonight, gorgeous. I’m extra sorry we missed it.”

“You really don’t have to keep apologizing,” you laugh, carefully putting the food into containers to be put in the fridge. “Besides, you can eat it tomorrow for lunch or something.”

“What would we do without you?” Jeonghan’s lips are on your neck, and the gentle kisses almost tickle, making your smile widen. 

“Eat bad food or starve?” you suggest.

Jeonghan grins against your throat. “Lucky we have you then, hmm?”

“Very lucky,” you agree. 

“Listen, I’m going to go have a shower…” Jeonghan holds you tighter, and you can feel his cock pressing against your ass through his pants. “Want to come join me?”

You push your butt back towards the horny man you call your lover, grinning at his behavior. “What about Joshua?” 

“You know Joshie likes morning showers after the gym. He won’t join us. In fact…” Jeonghan’s nose traces across your throat, his breath hot, “I bet he’s already asleep.”

“You think?”

Jeonghan hums. “He almost passed out in the car ride home. Trust me, we should let him rest.”

“We’ll have to be quiet though,” you point out. “We wouldn’t want to wake him.”

“I can be quiet,” Jeonghan smirks, “can you?” 

You love it when he challenges you like this, and you give a quick nod.

“Good,” he pulls away from your back, giving your ass a light smack. “Meet me in the bathroom, gorgeous.”

You’re just about done in the kitchen, and when you head down the hall to the guest bathroom, Jeonghan already has the shower running. 

The room is filling with steam, and his suit is neatly folded on the sink. Joshua’s forced Jeonghan into the habit of taking care of his clothes, and the sight of your wild boyfriend being neat always makes you giggle.

You’re wearing a cute little ‘housewife dress’ as Jeonghan would call it, and it’s easy enough for you to slip off. The underwear set adorning your body was one you’d chosen with the hope of someone else tearing it off, but you suppose doing it yourself before getting fucked in the shower is a decent compromise. 

Soon, you’re naked and opening the glass door to join Jeonghan in one of his favourite sex locations.

Jeonghan’s always been beautiful, but there’s something almost ethereal about the way he looks when there’s water cascading over his perfect skin. He turns as you enter, eyes scanning over your body as a smile appears on his lips. 

“Hi gorgeous,” he greets you, grabbing your waist to tug you tight to his front, capturing his cock between your bodies.

“I can’t believe you’re already hard,” you giggle, enjoying how easy it is to turn him on.

“I’ve been fighting a stiffy since lunch time when you sent me that picture of the new lingerie Joshua bought you. He might have forgotten about it and gone to sleep, but I’ve been thinking about fucking you all day.” 

“Is that so?” you tease, wrapping your arms around his shoulders while he pulls you half under the spray of warm water. “Is this what you were imagining?”

“I was imagining tag teaming you with Joshua, but when work ran late… this is exactly what I started to have in mind.”

“You like having me all to yourself, don’t you, Hannie?” 

“I’m not gonna lie,” his fingers dig into your hips, “as much as sharing you with Joshie is fun, I do enjoy having you to myself every once in a while.” 

“So now that you have me to yourself, what can I do for you, Mister Yoon?” You press your body forward, applying pressure to his cock. “I know you had such a long, hard day-”

“My day isn’t the only thing that’s long and hard,” Jeonghan smirks at you.

“I’m very aware of that, Mister Yoon. Shall I take care of it for you?” You love playing the part of sexy assistant, and he deserves it after the day he’s had.

Jeonghan lets out a groan. “Have I told you how fucking sexy you are today?”

“No, but I’d love to hear it while I suck you off, Mister Yoon,” you grin, pulling away from him so you can get down onto your knees.

“You always love being praised when you have your mouth full, isn’t that right, gorgeous?” Jeonghan’s eyes are fixed on you as you wrap your fingers around the base of his cock, and his hand moves down to push your hair out of your face.

“Of course, Mister Yoon, love to be praised by you.” 

“Yeah,” Jeonghan sighs as your tongue teases the head of his cock. “I’m the good one, and Joshua always gets to be the bad one with degradation. Are you sure I can’t call you my wonderful little cockwhore?”

“I think that’s still bordering on praise, Hannie,” you grin, breaking your game of assistant to ‘Mister Yoon’ for a moment to appreciate your boyfriend. Jeonghan can never be that rough with you, and his dirty talk always includes praise, even when he’s trying to be more of an asshole.

“It’s just hard not to compliment you,” he says, groaning when you take him into your mouth. “You always feel so good.”  

With your mouth full, there’s no way to verbally respond, but the moan you let out sends a shiver of pleasure through your lover. 

“Fuck, you feel like magic, gorgeous,” Jeonghan tells you, his voice breathy. “Always so good at sucking me off- who taught you how to be so good at sucking cock?”

Technically, he did. Jeonghan’s never been one to shy away from giving you instructions on what feels best, but to be fair, it’s never taken that much for you to get him to the edge either. 

He likes it when you move your tongue along his shaft, and he goes crazy for the sounds of pleasure you make when Joshua fucks you silly while you suck on him. But Joshua’s not here tonight, so you slip your own hand between your legs, rubbing your wet pussy with eager fingers.

“I guess we’re both horny, huh? I can’t complain. We both know I love watching my gorgeous girl touch herself. I’m not sure where to focus, on your mouth, or your hand.” 

You’re not sure where to focus either. Part of you wants to lean in to blowing Jeonghan, but another part of you feels so good to be touched after so many hours being home alone. It’s clear you’ve both needed this, both needed a release, and you know it won’t be long until both of you are cumming.

“Fuck, keep doing that,” Jeonghan moans when you swirl your tongue around his cock, taking him deeper into your mouth. “Keep doing that for me, good girl, good girl.” 

You whimper at the praise, rubbing circles on your clit that have jitters of pleasure erupting through your body. 

“I’ve been wanting this all day, gorgeous,” Jeonghan tells you, hips rutting forward to push his cock deeper into the back of your throat. “I’m not going to last long, and I don’t want to be in your mouth when I cum.” 

You pull off his cock, free hand stroking his shaft while you continue to rub your pussy. You blink up at Jeonghan. “Are you going to fuck me, Mister Yoon?”

“Of course gorgeous, now stop touching that pretty pussy and stand up for me.” 

You’re on your feet not a moment later, and Jeonghan gently pushes you so your back is against the wall. He kisses you hard, one hand reaching down to hike your thigh onto his hip, spreading you open for the cock that rubs between your pussy lips.

You whimper when his length brushes by your clit, and your boyfriend smiles against your mouth. “Ready for me?” he asks. “You don’t need me to get on my knees and return the favour first?”

“Definitely not,” you say quickly, “just want you inside of me.”

“You got it, gorgeous.” 

With one quick adjustment, the head of his cock is pressing into your entrance and you’re both letting out moans of pleasure, although yours is much louder than Jeonghan’s.  

“Shh!” he reprimands you with a laugh, slapping his hand over your mouth. “Joshie’s sleeping, remember?”

Honestly, part of you had forgotten. You’d been so enraptured in Jeonghan that Joshua hadn’t even been on your mind. 

You can’t help but smile against your boyfriend’s palm, but when he thrusts into you, your eyebrows furrow and another moan slips out of you, this time it’s muffled by Jeonghan.

“Fuck you’re so wet, and I know it’s not just from the shower,” Jeonghan groans. “Who made you this wet?”

His hand makes your response almost unintelligible, but as far as you’re both concerned, it’s a clear ‘you did.’ 

The feeling of Jeonghan’s chest pressing up against your sensitive nipples, the water from the shower making you both slippery- well, it’s absolutely wonderful. You’ve always loved fucking your hotshot lawyer boyfriend in the shower, and you completely lose yourself in the pleasure he provides.

As he fucks you harder, Jeonghan gets tired of muffling your sounds with his hand, and his mouth replaces it on your lips. His tongue invades you, and the whimpers that escape you are eaten up by your boyfriend.

He’s making his own pretty sounds, and they’re music to your ears. You like to know you make Jeonghan feel good, and his moans and groans have always been a huge turn on.

He breaks your kiss much too quickly for your liking, moving his mouth to your throat. “I’m close,” he tells you, teeth dragging by your skin. “Tell me you’re close too-”

“I am,” you confirm, gripping his wet shoulders tighter as you close your eyes and rest your head back against the cold tile. “You fuck me so well, Mister Yoon.”

“Fuck,” Jeonghan moans, rutting into you even faster. “Rub your clit, want you to cum as hard as I’m about to.”

One of your hands slips between your bodies, seeking out the sensitive nub that makes your whole body tingle. “Kiss me!” you beg, needing his mouth to muffle the sounds of pleasure that are definitely going to get louder now-

Jeonghan kisses you and takes your breath away. You completely give in to the feeling of euphoria that builds in your core, and the way you moan into each other’s mouths tells you that you’re both getting closer and closer-

You know Jeonghan well enough now to know the pitch of groan he makes when he cums, and you reach your highs together, lip locked in your shower while Joshua rests in the bedroom down the hall.

Jeonghan fucks you through your orgasm, and when you’re both done, he helps you put your foot back down on the floor, steadying you with two hands. 

“You’re amazing,” he tells you, as the two of you wash your bodily fluids from your skin under the hot water.

“No, you are,” you insist. “You had a long day and you still fucked me, I wasn’t sure if I was going to get laid tonight.” 

“I live to serve,” Jeonghan teases, turning you in his arms so your back is to his chest. His lips press kisses against your shoulder. “The court case will be over soon, even though this was fun, I know you usually like more,” - and by more, he means threesomes with Joshua - “I promise we’ll make it up to you when we’re done with the trial.” 

Jeonghan always keeps his promises.

The two of you dry up and head to the bedroom wrapped in towels. 

Joshua’s laying on the mattress, under the duvet. He’s adorned in a silky sleeping shirt, part of a set you’d got him for his birthday last year. There’s a sleep mask over his eyes too, and you think he must be in dreamland-

But as you and Jeonghan tiptoe to the closet to get dressed for bed, Joshua lets out a sigh, and one word slips past his lips that makes you realize he’s been awake this whole time; “Filthy.”

You feel like a kid on Christmas morning when your boyfriends arrive back from court after the last day of their hearing. Joshua’s visibly more relaxed than he has been in weeks, and his happy expression tells you that they probably won their case, which is good news for you.

He pulls you into an embrace, cupping your face and kissing you. You can practically feel the emotion pouring out of him, his love for you, his need-

And Jeonghan’s just as eager to get a piece of you, pressing his chest up to your back and grabbing at your hips.

There’s something long and hard rubbing against your ass, and you can’t help but pull away from Joshua to drop your favourite lawyer pickup line to the man behind you; “Is that a gavel in your pants? Or are you just happy to see me?” 

“Both,” Jeonghan practically purs, his mouth hot against your neck. “Think you can handle it?” 

Joshua watches your expression, and he lets out a small chuckle at the way your eyes widen. “He’s being serious about the gavel.” It must be obvious you’re in shock. “I told him not to do this-”

“Nah, she’s going to love this,” Jeonghan insists, reaching into his pocket to pull out the little wooden hammerlike tool that judges use to maintain order in the court and make rulings. “I can use it to stretch you open, you know, get you prepped to take something bigger.”

Jeonghan rubs his cock against your ass again and you realize what he’s suggesting. 

You’re not sure how, exactly, the routine ended up being the way it is, but Joshua always ends up monopolizing on your pussy while Jeonghan fucks around with your ass. Although he’s never fucked around with your ass using a wooden gavel.

“Come on, gorgeous,” Jeonghan teases the tool along your arm. “What do you say?”

“First…” you swallow thickly, “I wanna know where you even got that thing.” You grab at the gavel and Jeonghan lets you take it, testing the weight in your hand.

“A judge owed my family a favour,” Jeonghan says simply. 

“Won’t they get in trouble?” 

The man behind you shrugs. “Gavels go missing all the time.”

“I told you she wouldn’t like it,” Joshua smirks knowingly. “We don’t have to use it if you don’t want to.”

As much as Joshua can be a bit of a dickhead in the bedroom, he still classifies himself as a gentleman in his day to day life, and giving you the space to make choices for yourself is part of that.

“It’s okay,” you assure them, taking a shaky breath. “He can use it on me… we all know Jeonghan quickly gets tired of using toys.”

“See?” Jeonghan grins, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “I told you she’d say yes. What did you call her the other night? Filthy? I told you our filthy girl would let me use the gavel on her.” 

Joshua makes a sound of annoyance in the back of his throat. “I’m pretty sure I called you both filthy. Fucking in the shower while I was trying to sleep- I still haven’t gotten either of you back for that.”

“You’re about to get back at us now,” Jeonghan insists.

“Really?” Joshua’s brows raise. “How’s that?”

“You’re about to be balls deep in the best pussy you’ve ever had.”

“And how does that get back at you?” Joshua presses.

The man behind you shrugs, grinding against your bum. “I only get to enjoy her ass.”

The ‘gentleman’ rolls his eyes. “Key word enjoy. We both know you love her ass.” 

“Okay, I do love her ass,” Jeonghan concedes, “and if we keep talking about it instead of letting me fuck it, I’m gonna be pissed, so how about we take this to the bedroom?”

You look at Joshua, waiting for your more controlling lover to decide what comes next. 

With one final sigh, Joshua bends down and throws you over his shoulder, making you squeal and wrap your hand tighter around the gavel. You thank god for how much he’s been going to the gym before work lately- the manhandling he does always makes you wetter beyond belief, and your panties are already sticking to your core.

Jeonghan follows the two of you to the bedroom with a grin, and you find yourself shaking your head at him. “I can’t believe you brought a gavel home.”

“It’s sexy,” he insists.

“Are you sure about that?” You jokingly bring the gavel down on your hand and Jeonghan audibly moans.

“Yes, your honour, absolutely positive.” 

Joshua snickers below you, and you find yourself grinning at Jeonghan. It really doesn’t take much to get him turned on, and you should have known he’d have a thing for you being a naughty judge of sorts.

“Careful, Counsel,” you tut, using more lawyer lingo on him, “or I’ll sentence you to eating me out before you get your dick wet.”

“Sentence me then, I’m guilty, and I need to be punished.” 

You and Jeonghan release giggles, enjoying the playful banter, but Joshua doesn’t seem so impressed. He tosses you onto the bed, looking down at you with an exasperated expression. “Neither of you take law seriously.”

“We’re off the clock, Josh,” Jeonghan grins, patting his friend on the shoulder. “Lighten up a little.”

“I’m never going to be able to look at a gavel the same way again after this,” Joshua sighs.

Jeonghan’s grin only widens. “That’s the point, popping stiffies in the court room is good for your exhibitionism kink. Tell me I’m wrong.”

“You’re wrong.”  

“Joshua,” you lock eyes with the more stoic of your lovers, “I’ve missed you.”

The lawyer visibly relaxes, shoulders falling as he takes a deep breath. “I’ve missed you too,” he confesses, putting a knee onto the bed between your legs, hands finding the mattress on either side of your head while he presses his lips to your own.

He’s always been a fabulous kisser, and you hadn’t realized how much you’ve needed him in the past few weeks. Sure, he’s fucked you a number of times, but part of his head is always somewhere else, somewhere working.

There’s nothing in the world like having Joshua Hong’s full attention, especially when he’s pinning you beneath his large body-

“So I guess I’m just standing here and watching tonight?” Jeonghan’s voice is laced with annoyance, and Joshua matches the sentiment when he pulls his lips from your own, looking over his shoulder at his friend.

“Be patient,” Joshua snaps. “And I thought you were a vouyer, don’t tell me you’re not enjoying this.”

“Fine,” Jeonghan swings the gavel in his hand. “Maybe I’m enjoying this a little, but I’m tired from working too, and we don’t have all night.”

“We do have all night,” Joshua insists. “It’s not my fault you insisted on waking up early to eat out your precious, little miss gorgeous while I got more rest. If you’re tired you can have a nap.”

Jeonghan narrows his eyes at the man still pinning you to the bed. Then he swings the gavel again. “I’m going to go grab the lube.”

“You do that.” Joshua’s lips are back on yours a moment later, and you find yourself smiling into the kiss. 

You’ve always enjoyed their unique dynamic, the push and pull between the men who have captured your heart. If someone asked you which of the two you like better, you’d tell them it’s impossible to choose, and that’s the truth.

With your legs around Joshua’s hips, it’s as easy as ever for him to grind down against you, and you moan at the feeling. Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging gently to work pretty sounds out of him as well.

“I need you naked,” Joshua tells you, grabbing at the pretty dress you’d worn to celebrate the closing of their high stress case. 

“Then take this off of me,” you suggest, “but please be gentle.”

Your boyfriend smirks. “Only with the dress.” His large hands smooth up your thighs, pushing the fabric up to your hips. “And these cute panties.” His fingers tug gently at the waistband of your thong, letting the material snap back against your skin before he continues lifting the dress from your body. 

Now all that stands between him and you is the set you’d worn, and he takes a moment to appreciate it. A sigh passes from between his lips, and Joshua’s eyes take in your form, hands going to caress your breasts through your bra.

“Look at our pretty little present,” he smiles, pressing a kiss to your collar bone before moving down. “It would be a shame to take this off before Jeonghan sees it.”

As much as the two of your boyfriends bicker, they can still be quite considerate of each other, and it makes your panties even wetter against your core.

“Flavoured lube or regu-” Jeonghan’s returned from where you keep all your sex paraphernalia, and his question cuts off. You can tell he’s as bewitched by your bra and pantie set as Joshua is, and it makes your heart swell with pride. “Fuck, gorgeous, you look…”

“Perfect,” Joshua groans, biting at the lacey detailing of your bra. “How’d we ever get so lucky?”

“Well, I brought her around after a date and you decided you wanted in on the situation,” Jeonghan retorts, making you smile, “that’s how we got lucky.”

“I’m still not going to apologize for it,” Joshua breathes, smiling as he presses more chaste kisses to the swell of your breasts. “It’s not my fault you weren’t satisfying her.”

“Hey!” you and Jeonghan both protest, and with one harsh push at Joshua’s shoulders, he allows you to roll so you’re now on top of him.

“What?” he grins, as if he hadn’t just said anything wrong.

“You know what,” you chastise him, trailing your fingers along his chest before moving to the buttons of his shirt. “Don’t be rude.”

“Sorry, baby, you know I’m only playing.”

“So she gets an apology but I don’t?” Jeonghan tuts, approaching the bed.

“And don’t pretend you’re only playing,” you scold Joshua. “Those were fighting words.”

“Fighting words.” The man beneath you only smiles wider, but he doesn’t try to argue. 

The mattress dips as Jeonghan joins behind you, his lips seeking out your shoulder. “I brought regular lube,” he tells you, going back to the matter at hand. “Unless you want me to get the cherry one and eat your ass.”

When he’d first started saying lines like this one, you’d thought he was joking, then it had seemed something of a threat, but now, you think Jeonghan might actually want to eat your ass, something you’re not particularly interested in tonight.

“Hannie,” you sigh, ditching your task with Joshua’s shirt buttons to reach behind you and thread your fingers through your other lover’s hair. 

“What?” Jeonghan smiles against your shoulder, and you find it almost comical how he and Joshua have so many of the same mannerisms. They’re two sides of the same coin, and you’re so lucky you don’t have to ever choose head or tails.

“Just help me with my bra,” you instruct, grinding down against Joshua and feeling needy beyond belief. 

“You got it, gorgeous.” Jeonghan’s fingers undo the clasp, and the material goes slack. Two sets of hands work to pull it off your body, and then those hands are clashing to get a good grip on your boobs.

Joshua ends up grabbing your left one, and Jeonghan settles for the right. In unison, they go to pinch your nipples, and you throw your head back, releasing a moan of delight. 

“You both feel so good,” you tell them, grinding down on Joshua even harder. 

“Going to feel even better in a minute,” Jeonghan promises, “but we’ve got to get your panties off first.”

You’re in a very difficult position to follow through removing your underwear, as you’re still straddling Joshua, and you go to lift yourself up- only for Jeonghan to reach down and grab onto your thong. 

You begin to tell him off with a “Don’t-” but Jeonghan’s already tearing the flimsy fabric off your body, ruining the panties forever. 

Disappointment floods through you, and Joshua immediately sits up in an attempt to sooth you. 

“You warned me to be gentle with your clothes, but you never warned him,” Joshua reminds you, pressing a kiss to your nipple. “We’ll buy you new ones.”

“Promise?” you pout, steadying your hands on his shoulders.

“Promise,” Jeonghan confirms, reaching around you so he can cup your pussy, fingers teasing past your clit. “You just look so sexy and needy on top of Josh, I didn’t want to make any of us wait any longer.”

“That’s because you’re impatient,” Joshua reprimands him, and it’s a common statement made in your household. 

Jeonghan doesn’t even bother to defend himself, instead slipping two fingers into your wet core. “Ride my hand, gorgeous?”

You let out a frustrated groan, but do as you’re told. 

There’s something so insanely sexy about straddling Joshua while he sucks on your nipples and Jeonghan’s hand presses between your bodies, long fingers buried deep inside of you-

You swivel your hips and moans begin to slip out of you. 

When Jeonghan begins rutting against your ass, aiding you in grinding against his hand, it almost becomes too much, and you whimper loudly.

“Close already? Jeonghan asks, lips ghosting by your throat.

“I’ve missed being between you like this,” you admit, focusing on the pleasure that surges through you at being in the exact position you’ve been deprived of for a little over a week. Their schedules simply haven’t lined up lately, and it feels like heaven to finally be exactly where you’ve always wanted to be; pressed between Joshua and Jeonghan.

“That’s our filthy girl,” Joshua grins, large hand coming up to grope your breast and tease your nipple again. “You look so good like this.”

“Joshie-” you whimper, his praise going straight to your core.

“Love the way you squeeze my fingers when he talks dirty to you like this,” Jeonghan moans, licking at your sweet spot and sending a shiver up your spine. 

“Come on, baby,” Joshua encourages you, “I want you to cum while riding his hand.”

“While he sucks on your perfect nipples,” Jeonghan adds. “I’ve got such a good view.”

You’re so lucky they’re both voyeurs who enjoy watching you get pleased by each other, and you allow yourself to get lost in the feeling. Jeonghan continues to rut against your ass, helping you grind down on his hand while he applies more pressure to your clit with his palm.

More moans of pleasure escape you, and you can feel both men smiling at the sounds. “That’s it,” Joshua breathes, “let go for us, the quicker you cum, the quicker I can be inside you. You want me inside, right?”

“Uh huh,” you whimper, eyes closed as you work your way closer and closer-

“Just like that,” Jeonghan tells you, “you’re so perfect for us-”

It’s the final line of praise that makes the cord in your stomach snap, and you let out a gasp as you find your release. You quiver between your boyfriends, motions faltering, but Jeonghan takes over for you, thrusting his fingers into your core and rubbing at your clit to work you through your high.

All you can do is latch onto Joshua’s shoulders as an anchor and enjoy the feeling of being worshipped, the feeling of being pressed between two men who love you more than almost anything in the world. 

Some part of you is a little bitter that their work still comes first, but this is proof enough that as soon as a case is over, you get to cum too. 

As far as orgasms go, however, this is just an appetizer. Jeonghan’s fingers are great, but they’re nothing compared to having two cocks buried inside of you, and as soon as you’re done cumming, you’re pushing at Joshua’s shoulders for space.

“Lay down,” you tell him, “I need to get your dick out.”

Joshua laughs but does as he’s told, tearing his shirt off before resting back against the bed with a smile. 

“You get his dick out,” Jeonghan says, “and I’m going to lube up the handle of this gavel.”

He can be such a weirdo, but he’s your weirdo, and you love him endlessly.

You’re attention is focused on Joshua, who lifts his hips a little to help you get his pants down, and you let out a moan when his cock slaps up against his abdomen.

You’re not sure what you ever did to deserve two men with such pretty cocks, and it’s almost a shame that in this position you can’t blow him. You promise yourself to give him good head another time soon, for his benefit or your own, you’re not quite sure.

Wrapping your hand around Joshua, you guide him to your wet core. 

Sinking down on him makes you both groan loudly, and as soon as he’s inside, you collapse against his strong chest to press your lips to his.

Joshua grabs your hips, fingers digging into your skin. 

If it was just the two of you, you have no doubt he’d be fucking you already, that he’d be rutting up to meet you and helping you bounce on his cock- but you’re both highly aware of Jeonghan at your rear. 

Any time Jeonghan does butt stuff with you, Joshua settles for cock warming while his friend works you open, and it gives you lots of time to enjoy his pretty lips and the tongue that glides by your own.

“I’ve gotta say it, gorgeous,” Jeonghan sighs, “you’ve got the prettiest ass I’ve ever seen.” 

Coming from an assman like Jeonghan, it’s a huge compliment, and you always appreciate his praise. No man has ever made you feel as proud of your asshole as Jeonghan has, and it’s always a somewhat comical experience, but one you love nonetheless.

“I’m about to ruin this gavel,” the assman at your rear tells you, giving you the space to back out, but you’re much too deep in this to go back now. 

When you respond with a loud moan, still lip locked with Joshua, Jeonghan brings the lubed up tip of the handle to your hole, gently pressing it inside.

You’ve become accustomed to butt stuff while dating these two men, and the feeling is one that you’ve learned to love. Even though it’s just the first inch of the handle, slowly teasing your hole, it feels amazing to have Jeonghan working your ass open while Joshua’s buried balls deep in your pussy.

“Fuck, this looks-” Jeonghan groans, “insane. Joshie, you’re really missing out.”

Joshua only chuckles against your lips, and you wonder if he’s thinking the same thing about Jeonghan missing out on your pussy. 

The handle of the gavel presses deeper into your ass and you feel yourself clench around both of your intrusions. 

Joshua lets out a groan, reaching to cup your bum and spread your cheeks for his friend.

“Shit, yeah, that’s good,” Jeonghan tells you. “This looks-”

“Insane,” Joshua finishes for his friend, pulling away from your mouth to glare over your shoulder, “we know. Hurry up so I can actually start fucking her.”

“I want to play a little more though,” you can hear the pout on Jeonghan’s words. “It’s only two inches deep.”

“Hannie,” you groan. “Please-”

“Just a little more,” Jeonghan insists, pulling the gavel out of your ass only to press it back in. The feeling makes your toes curl, and Joshua lets out a grunt below you when your pussy clenches around him again.

“Fuck,” Joshua cusses, releasing one of your ass cheeks only to bring his hand down on it with a harsh slap. All three of you moan and the flash of pain makes your toes curl again. 

“Joshie-” you whimper, burying your face against his neck.

“Another?” Joshua asks, not bothering for an answer before he’s spanking you again.

Jeonghan moans. “Holy shit-” The gavel is toyed around your ass, and then it’s being removed. “Fine, have it your way.”

You feel the gavel being tossed onto the bed, and then there’s a scuffle of pants and a cap being clicked. You can hear Jeonghan lubing up his cock, and he lets out a hiss at the sensation. “Ready for me, gorgeous?”

“Yes, please,” you whimper, arching your back to make things easier for the assman behind you.

“I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again,” Joshua groans, spreading your asscheeks with two large, warm hands, “You’re both filthy.” 

“Don’t act as if you don’t love this,” Jeonghan tuts, pressing the head of his cock to your hole. The tip slips into you and you cry out, earning a soothing touch of Jeonghan’s hand over your spine. “Relax, gorgeous, this is going to feel amazing.”

It already does, but you focus on your breathing as Jeonghan slides his lubed cock deeper into your ass.

“Okay, okay,” Jeonghan swallows thickly, “let’s start to move.”

“Thank fuck,” Joshua groans, grabbing onto your hips to anchor you above him for his first real thrust-

They move in unison, and the feeling of being stuffed makes you cry out in pleasure, grabbing onto Joshua’s shoulders. 

You love how you don’t have to do anything. Pressed between Jeonghan and Joshua, you give up all control. Their push pull relationship is never more evident as it is now, and they wordlessly work together in a way that has your toes curling and your eyes clenching shut.

“Fuck, fuck-” you whimper loudly and it only makes your boyfriends laugh.

“Hang in there, gorgeous, we just started,” Jeonghan warns you.

“You’re so tight, baby,” Joshua groans, “such a filthy little whore for being stuffed.”

You kind of love it when he calls you a filthy little whore, and your pussy throbs with pleasure-

“Shit, are you going to cum?” Joshua laughs. “Our filthy little whore is going to cum already?”

“It just feels so good,” you whimper. “Feels so full-”

“That’s the way you like it,” Jeonghan says, and you can hear him smiling. Then his hand comes down on your ass and you let out a yelp, clenching again-

“Fuck-” Joshua groans loudly. “If you keep squeezing me like that, I’m not going to last either-”

“Aw,” Jeonghan teases, “is our stoic little lawyer boy going to cum already?”

“Fuck off,” Joshua growls, fingers digging into your hips while he fucks up into you even faster. 

“It was just a question,” Jeonghan insists, but you can hear his own voice faltering with effort. 

“Unlike you, I’ve been focused on the case,” the man below you argues. “Excuse me for being sensitive after not being in this perfect pussy for three days.”

“You chose sleep over fucking, not my fault,” Jeonghan retorts. 

“Please,” you groan, “stop arguing.” 

“We both know if she cums, we cum,” Joshua continues, disregarding your plea. “Don’t act like you’d be able to stop yourself-”

“Hannie-” You turn your attention to the man in your ass, hoping he’ll see reason and end this bickering, but of course he wants the last word. 

“Be patient, Joshie.” 

“Fuck,” Joshua groans loudly, bucking up into you wildly.

“I’m so close-” you whine, needing to draw their attention to you somehow. Besides, it’s the truth, and you can feel your orgasm rising in your core again-

“Shit,” Jeonghan grabs your ass roughly. “Can you hold it?”

“I don’t think so-” you admit, pressing your lips against Joshua’s throat in an effort to distract yourself.

The man under you shudders, and you know he’s just as close as you are to reaching his end. 

“Please, Hannie,” you moan desperately, “I want to be full, please fill me up, please-”

Jeonghan lets out a shaky breath, and when he speaks, his voice is near a whisper; “Order in the court.” 

“Fuck order,” Joshua says, a major statement coming from him, “cum with me baby, come on, cum with me.” 

That’s all it takes for your orgasm to take over, and you let out a strangled gasp as it slams into you. You feel yourself clamp down on both men, and Joshua moans loudly in your ear as he reaches his own high.

His hips falter ever so slightly, and you can feel him filling you up with his cum while Jeonghan releases cusses behind you, fingers digging into your hips as he’s thrown over the edge too.

Being double stuffed is one thing, but being double filled is another, and it feels like absolute heaven. If there’s ever a night to get noise complaints, it’s going to be tonight, as the sound of three people reaching cloud nine together rings through the room.

The two men fuck you until they can’t anymore, until you’re all breathing heavily and nearly overstimulated. 

You’re already collapsed against Joshua’s chest, and Jeonghan slumps down against your back, breath hot against your neck. 

The three of you lay there for a short while, trying to slow your racing hearts. Then Joshua lets out a sigh. “Did you really say ‘order in the court’ during sex?”

“Did you really say ‘fuck order’?” Jeonghan retorts.

God, you love these men.

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! the banter between Jeonghan and Joshua always gets me 😂

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🔮 preview. Maybe Joshua calling you filthy had some merit, only a filthy filthy girl would be in a situation like this. Jacking off your boyfriend, rubbing your clit under his desk while your other boyfriend hides his own cock from your friend in the doorway-

cw/ tw. exhibitionism/sex in their workplace, blowjob, masturbation, Soonyoung walks in during y/n blowing Joshua, head petting, praise, degradation, hand job, voyeurism, mentions of this not being the first time someone’s walked in on them, cum swallowing, finger licking, etc…

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 3.6k I teaser wc. 500

🌙 staring. Joshua & Jeonghan x afab!Reader  

bonus

You’d guessed there was a plan brewing when Joshua messaged you around lunch time to let you know he’d forgotten the meal you’d prepped for him. Out of your two boyfriends, Joshua’s not the type to forget things, least of all lunch, and especially not on a day where he’s not completely overwhelmed by a case.

It would be as easy as anything for him to send Soonyoung out to grab him food, so the fact that he’s messaged you to ask you to come down to the office tells you there will be more to your lunchour than just being an errand girl.

You don’t mind taking a trip down to the lawfirm, and you adorn yourself in a cute dress Joshua always loves fucking you in. Your makeup is simple yet pretty, and you’re confident in yourself when you walk into the tall building your boyfriends work at.

It feels nice to get a few appreciative looks as you head through the lobby, and you even run into another attorney your boyfriend’s work with in the elevator. Seungcheol does his best not to look at your chest, but you catch his gaze dipping once or twice while you make simple conversation and explain to him that “Silly Joshie forgot his lunch” which is why you’re here to visit.

Seungcheol is even so nice as to walk you to Joshua’s office, and you can’t help but think it’s an excuse to look at your ass while you walk in front of him, side stepping litigation team members and waving to your acquaintance Vernon at his desk.  

When you reach Joshua’s luxurious corner office, you and Seungcheol are both a little shocked to find both of your boyfriends inside waiting for you. Joshua and Jeonghan look just as surprised to find Cheol as your escort.

“I uh, bumped into her in the elevator,” Seungcheol explains. “Wanted to make sure she found your office alright.”

You’re all aware that you’ve been here before, you know where your boyfriend’s office is, and Joshua cocks a brow at his friend. Instead of questioning Seungcheol’s motives, however, Joshua simply nods. “Thank you for showing her the way. Is that all?”

“Yeah,” Seungcheol coughs nervously, “I’ll see you both in the boardroom in an hour for our case debrief.”

“See you then,” Joshua confirms.

“Bye, Cheol,” Jeonghan lifts a few fingers to wave at his friend as he leaves you, shutting the office door firmly behind him. “Hi, gorgeous.”

“Hi, you two,” you laugh, practically skipping up to Joshua’s desk to set his lunch down and press a kiss to his lips. “Didn’t expect you both to be here.”

“Originally, I was going to try to get you alone,” Joshua admits, smiling down at you before his gaze shifts to Jeonghan. “But when he heard you were coming with lunch, he insisted on staying.”

“We all know you never ‘forget lunch,’ Joshie,” Jeonghan says simply. “I figured if there was a show going on in here, I’d want to see it. For a man who claims we’re the filthy ones, it’s awfully daring of you to invite our girlfriend to the firm to get your dick wet at lunchtime on a Tuesday.”

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[a-lexia11]

New Beginning

Alessia Russo x reader

Leah Williamson x reader (past)

Word count:2.9k

Summary: After Leah breaks up with you, you and your teammate and close friend, Alessia, confess your feelings for each other.

Based on this request

Note: Okay, I wasn’t planning on posting this today, but Arsenal’s 6-0 win really moved me, so here’s a little fic for you.

The sun was setting as I made my way home after another grueling training session. The late autumn air was crisp, the sky a soft gradient of pink and orange.

Normally, this would be my favorite time of day—the perfect moment to unwind with Leah after practice, laughing about our day and making dinner together.

But tonight was different. Tonight, there was a heaviness in the air, a tension that had been growing between us for weeks.

I walked into our shared flat, the familiar scent of Leah's lavender candles filling the space.

She was sitting on the couch, her posture tense, eyes distant. I knew what was coming before she even opened her mouth.

“Y/N, we need to talk” she said, her voice quiet, almost hesitant.

My heart sank, but I forced myself to stay calm. “What’s going on, Leah?”

She took a deep breath, avoiding my gaze.

“I've been thinking... a lot. And I think... I think we need to break up.”

Her words hit me like a freight train. I stared at her, stunned, unable to process what she was saying. “What? Why? Where is this coming from?”

Leah finally met my eyes, and I could see the conflict there. She wasn’t doing this lightly. “I love you, Y/N. I really do. But I feel like… like I need to figure out who I am outside of this relationship. I need to see other people, to explore what else is out there.”

I blinked, trying to wrap my head around her words. “You want to see other people? Leah, we’ve been together for three years. We’ve built a life together. And now you’re telling me you want to throw it all away because you’re curious about what else is out there?”

Her expression softened, and she reached out to take my hand, but I pulled away. “I’m not trying to hurt you” she whispered. “I just… I need to do this for myself.”

The pain in my chest was unbearable, but I tried to keep my voice steady. “What about everything we’ve been through? Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

Leah looked away, tears welling up in her eyes. “Of course it does. But if I stay… if we stay together, I’ll always wonder what I missed. And that wouldn’t be fair to either of us.”

I stood there, feeling like my world was crumbling around me. The woman I loved more than anything was slipping away, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. “So that’s it then? You’re just… leaving?”

Leah swallowed hard, her voice barely above a whisper. “I think it’s for the best”

The silence that followed was deafening. I didn’t say anything else. I couldn’t. I just turned and walked out of the room, out of our home, needing to escape before the tears started to fall.

——

After the breakup, the days blurred together. I went through the motions—training, matches, pretending everything was fine. But inside, I was a mess.

Seeing Leah every day, pretending we were just teammates and nothing more, was torture.

I needed an escape, someone to talk to who wouldn’t judge me or tell me to just get over it.

That’s when I called Alessia.

Alessia had always been one of my closest friends. We’d known each other for years, and she’d been there for me through thick and thin.

When I told her what happened with Leah, she didn’t hesitate. She invited me over to her place, and from that moment on, she became my lifeline.

“Hey, Y/N, come in,” Alessia said with a warm smile when I showed up at her door. “I’ve already got your favorite wine chilled and pizza on the way.”

I managed a small smile, grateful for her efforts. You know me too well, Less.”

She led me inside, and I collapsed onto her couch, feeling like I could finally breathe for the first time in days.

Alessia sat beside me, handing me a glass of wine and giving me that soft, reassuring look that always made me feel like everything would be okay.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked gently.

I took a sip of wine, the warmth of it helping to ease the knot in my chest. “She said she needed to see other people. That she wasn’t sure who she was outside of us.”

Alessia frowned, her blue eyes full of concern. “That’s… I’m so sorry, Y/N. You don’t deserve that.”

I shrugged, trying to act like it didn’t hurt as much as it did. “I guess she just didn’t love me enough to stay.”

Alessia reached over, taking my hand in hers. “Hey, don’t say that. You’re amazing, Y/N. If she couldn’t see that, then that’s her loss.”

Her words were comforting, but I still felt hollow inside. “I just… I thought we had something real, you know? And now it’s like… like it never mattered.”

“It did matter,” Alessia insisted. “And you’re allowed to grieve that. But you’re also allowed to move on, to find happiness again.”

I looked at her, really looked at her, and for the first time, I noticed something different.

The way her eyes softened when she looked at me, the way her fingers lingered on mine just a little too long.

But I pushed the thought aside. Alessia was my friend. She was just being supportive, nothing more.

——

Over the next few weeks, Alessia became my rock. She invited me to stay at her place whenever I needed to, and we spent countless nights together, just talking or watching TV.

She made me meals, dragged me to the gym to train, and even let me cry on her shoulder when I needed to.

One night, after a particularly tough day at training, we were lying on her couch, cuddled up under a blanket, watching some random movie neither of us was paying attention to.

“Thanks for putting up with me, Less,” I murmured, my head resting on her shoulder.

“Always,” she replied softly, her hand gently running through my hair. “You’re worth it.”

Her words made my heart skip a beat, and I found myself wondering what it would be like to kiss her.

To feel her lips on mine, to hold her close in a way that was more than just friendly. But I pushed the thought away again.

Alessia was my best friend, and the last thing I wanted to do was ruin that.

But the feelings wouldn’t go away. I started noticing everything about her—the way her laugh lit up the room, the way she always knew how to make me smile, the way her eyes seemed to sparkle whenever she looked at me.

And I couldn’t deny it anymore. I was falling for her.

One evening, I decided to surprise her with her favorite takeout as a thank you for everything she’d done for me.

But when I got to her place, I hesitated. I could hear her talking on the phone, her voice muffled through the door.

“I don’t know what to do, Ella” she was saying. “I’m so in love with Y/N, but I can’t tell her. She just got out of a relationship, and I don’t want to make things complicated.”

My heart raced as I pressed my ear closer to the door, unable to believe what I was hearing.

“You have to tell her,” Ella replied. “You can’t keep this to yourself forever. It’s hurting you, and it’s not fair to either of you.”

“I know,” Alessia sighed. “But what if she doesn’t feel the same way? What if I ruin everything?”

Ella’s voice softened. “You’ll never know unless you try, Less. And who knows? Maybe she feels the same way.”

I backed away from the door, my mind spinning. Alessia… loved me? I couldn’t believe it.

But as I replayed all our moments together in my head, it suddenly made sense. The way she’d been there for me, the way she looked at me, the way she always seemed to know what I needed before I did.

I left quietly, my heart pounding in my chest. I needed time to process this, to figure out what I wanted.

But one thing was clear—I wasn’t alone in my feelings. Alessia felt the same way.

——

A few days later, I finally worked up the courage to talk to her. I invited her over, and when she arrived, I could tell she was nervous.

“Y/N, what’s going on?” she asked, her voice laced with concern.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart. “Alessia, I overheard your conversation with Ella the other night.”

Her eyes widened in shock. “You… you heard that?”

I nodded, feeling a mix of anxiety and hope. “Yeah. And I’ve been thinking about it a lot. About us.”

Alessia looked down, her hands fidgeting nervously in her lap. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t want you to find out like that. I just… I didn’t want to complicate things for you.”

I reached out and took her hand, my heart pounding in my chest. “You didn’t complicate anything, Less. If anything, you made things clearer for me.”

Her eyes met mine, searching for any sign of what I was feeling. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… I’ve been falling for you too. Ever since the breakup, I’ve started seeing you in a different light. You’ve been there for me in ways I didn’t even realize I needed. And now, knowing you feel the same way... it just makes everything make sense."

Alessia blinked, clearly stunned by my words. For a moment, she just stared at me, as if trying to process what I’d said.

Then, slowly, her expression softened into something that looked like cautious hope. “You… you really feel that way?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

I nodded, squeezing her hand. “I do. I’ve been so scared of ruining our friendship, but the truth is, I don’t think I can pretend anymore. I don’t want to just be your friend, Alessia. I want more”

Alessia’s breath hitched, and I could see the tears welling up in her eyes.

She pulled me into a tight hug, burying her face in my shoulder. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “But I was so scared of losing you.”

“You’re not going to lose me,” I murmured, holding her close. “If anything, I think we’re about to find something even better.”

We stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other’s arms, both of us soaking in the reality of what we’d just confessed.

When we finally pulled apart, Alessia looked at me with a nervous smile.

“So… what now?” she asked.

“Well,” I said, a smile tugging at my lips, “how about we start with a date? A real one.”

Her eyes lit up, the nervousness giving way to excitement. “I’d love that.”

The next few days passed in a blur of anticipation. We both tried to keep things as normal as possible during training, not wanting to draw any unnecessary attention from the team.

But every time our eyes met across the pitch, there was a spark of something new, something exciting.

When the day of our date finally arrived, I found myself more nervous than I’d ever been.

I dressed in something casual but nice, making sure I looked put together without trying too hard.

I’d planned everything out—Alessia’s favorite restaurant, a walk along the Thames, and then maybe we’d end the night with a quiet moment back at my place.

When she arrived to pick me up, she looked stunning, her usual athletic attire replaced with a simple yet elegant outfit that made my heart skip a beat.

“You look amazing,” I said, feeling a bit breathless as I took her in.

Alessia blushed, giving me a shy smile. “So do you. Ready to go?”

The date went better than I could have imagined. We laughed, we talked, and it felt like the easiest, most natural thing in the world.

All the fears I’d had about ruining our friendship melted away as we slipped into this new dynamic, one that felt like it had been there all along, just waiting for us to acknowledge it.

After dinner, we took a walk along the river, the city lights reflecting off the water as we strolled side by side.

At some point, our hands found each other, fingers intertwining in a way that felt so right.

“You know,” Alessia said softly as we paused to look out over the water, “I’ve imagined this moment so many times. But I never thought it would actually happen.”

I turned to look at her, my heart swelling with affection. “Well, here we are. And honestly, I can’t imagine being anywhere else.”

She smiled, her eyes shining as she leaned in closer. “Neither can I.”

The kiss that followed was slow, sweet, and filled with the kind of emotion that only comes from years of built-up feelings finally being set free.

It was perfect, and I knew in that moment that this was where I was meant to be—with Alessia, in this new chapter of our lives.

When we finally pulled apart, I rested my forehead against hers, both of us breathing heavily. “Do you want to come back to my place?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Alessia nodded, her eyes never leaving mine. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

The rest of the night was a blur of whispered words and stolen kisses. We ended up back at my place, where we spent hours just talking, cuddling, and reveling in this new connection between us.

It was late—early morning, really—when we finally fell asleep, wrapped up in each other’s arms with my head resting on Alessia’s chest

For the first time since Leah had broken up with me, I felt at peace. I wasn’t just surviving anymore; I was living, and it was all because of Alessia.

——

The next few weeks were a whirlwind. Alessia and I tried to keep things low-key, not wanting to rush anything or make the team suspicious.

But it wasn’t long before people started to notice the shift between us. The lingering glances, the private smiles, the way we were always together, even more so than usual.

It was only a matter of time before Leah found out.

I knew it was going to happen eventually, but that didn’t make it any easier. We were in the locker room after a match, everyone laughing and celebrating a well-deserved win, when I saw Leah watching me and Alessia from across the room.

Her expression was carefully neutral, but I could see the hurt in her eyes.

When most of the team had cleared out, Leah approached me. “Y/N, can we talk?”

I nodded, my stomach twisting in knots. "

“Yeah, of course.”

We stepped outside, the cool evening air a stark contrast to the warmth of the locker room. Leah leaned against the wall, crossing her arms as she looked at me.

“So,” she began, her voice calm but strained, “you and Alessia, huh?”

I swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. “Yeah. It just… it happened. I didn’t plan for it, but…”

Leah nodded, cutting me off. “I get it. You don’t have to explain. I just… I didn’t think it would happen so fast.”

“It wasn’t fast,” I said quietly. “It just… felt right. After everything…”

Leah sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I know. And I’m happy for you, Y/N. I really am. It’s just… hard, you know? I didn’t realize how much I’d regret my decision until I saw you with her.”

Her words hit me hard, and for a moment, I didn’t know what to say. “Leah…”

“No, it’s okay,” she interrupted, forcing a smile. “I made my choice, and I have to live with it. I just… I miss you.And it’s hard seeing you with someone else, but I’ll get over it.”

I nodded, feeling a pang of sadness for what we’d lost. “I miss you too, Leah. But… Alessia makes me happy. And I think this is what’s best for both of us.”

Leah looked at me for a long moment, then nodded. “Yeah. I think you’re right.”

We stood in silence for a while, the unspoken words hanging between us. Finally, Leah gave me a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Take care of yourself, Y/N.“

“I will,” I promised.

As Leah walked away, I felt a mix of emotions—sadness for what we’d lost, but also a sense of closure.

It wasn’t going to be easy, but I knew we’d both be okay in the end.

When I returned to the locker room, Alessia was waiting for me, concern written all over her face. “Everything okay?” she asked, her voice gentle.

I nodded, giving her a reassuring smile. “Yeah. It’s going to be okay.”

She smiled back, and in that moment, I knew that no matter what happened, we’d face it together.

We had something real, something worth fighting for. And as I took her hand in mine, I knew that this was only the beginning of our story.

A new beginning, and one I wouldn’t trade for anything.

FIN

[ipegchangbin]

— heavy lifting

sub!gym buddy!changbin x dom!personal trainer!reader | 8.1k words

♡ … sequel to uplifting After Changbin’s gotten too comfortable around the gym, you needed to remind him of his place. You’re his significant other, sure, but you’re still his personal trainer — and his training is only getting even more personal.

❥ gender neutral reader (they/them pronouns, no specifics). smut. fluff. established relationship. pure porn, no plot.  ❥ bratty perv changbin. petnames “baby,” “coach,” “rat,” and “bun”/“bunny,” semi-public unprotected sex, anal creampie (reader receiving), fingering (changbin receiving), strength kink (headlock), no specifics about y/n’s physique—but y/n is strong.

📝 happy new year bitch!!! i finally fucking finished The self-indulgent fic!!! header art by ME! otherwise, enjoy!

18+ only. minors do not interact.

You and your client — now boyfriend — Changbin were getting ready to go to the gym. Staring at your bathroom mirror together, he flexed his arms as he hugged you close to his body.

One look at the man and you can tell he’s changed.

He’s far from the man you met a year ago, the boy with a thick build that shyly signed you up as his personal trainer. He used to close his big body into itself every time he wasn’t trying to impress you. Shy as he was with you, his crush, Changbin was also confident whenever he had the opportunity to try and make you swoon.

Now that he got you in his arms, you all his and him all yours, he’s a lot more toned now and a lot more open.

You got very clear glimpses of his personality at the gym, but dating him officially was like opening a gate and welcoming yourself into his colorful world. It didn’t take too long to find out that he works as a lifestyle journalist, but it took many months more to find out that his side gig is working as a talent manager for some small-time DJ named CB or something. Whoever that guy is, your boyfriend claims that he’s just as shy as your coworker Chris, hence why he doesn’t show up often.

Changbin opened up more of his life to you just as you gave lots of your life to him. Every date extended from the gym to the cafe next to it, from fancy restaurants in each of your hometowns to humble home-cooked dinners at either his or your apartments. He stutters less and he’s more giggly around you, while you’re definitely not your usual strict self when it comes to cuddles in his bed.

You two allowed your lives to meld into each other and bond, mix in, and create one shared universe that you can both breathe in. He loved you and you loved him and that never seems to end anywhere.

But it all starts at the gym, you figured, and it always goes back there; he hasn’t signed out of being your client and technically still pays you to help him work out.

“Y/N,” he said with a smile on his face. “Wait first, please? I’m not ready to go to the gym yet.”

You raised an eyebrow at him and struggled to look back as his arms engulfed you. “First time I’ve ever heard that from you. Why?”

Changbin is always more than eager to go to the gym, so the request set you back. He giggled and you could feel his chest pump against your back. He smiled at your figure in the mirror.

“What are you plotting?” You squinted your eyes back at his reflection. Changbin smiled dumbly in response.

You almost asked again until he leaned down to kiss your cheek from the side. It wasn’t a peck at all, his lips solidly planted on the apple of your cheek for a bit longer than two seconds, and it ended with an audible smooch at the pucker of his lips.

“Heh. I love you, bun.”

The smile on his face returned bigger and brighter. His cheeks heated up and his ears turned incredibly red at his own actions even if he was supposed to leave you melting; well, you were, definitely relaxing in the hold of his biceps at the simple display of affection.

But you’re stronger than him, at least emotionally, and he knows that.

“That was it?” You faked dissatisfaction in your tone and it turned him back into the shy guy you met a year ago. “Gonna delay your gym appointment for just a little kiss?”

His eyes didn’t leave your figure in your bathroom mirror. Changbin’s body heated up and you could feel every bit of him collapse slightly as he stared at your face.

To him, you’re still as handsome and as pretty as the time he met you, if not significantly more beautiful now than ever. Even when you were intimidating.

“I don’t think my coach minds if I’m late,” he attempted a smirk.

Changbin grabbed your wrists with a swiftness and held them against your back. Holding them with two hands, he made sure that you were unable to separate your arms, teasing you with one of his strength displays.

“Coach probably wouldn’t mind, especially when they’re late too.”

He wasn’t just planning on locking your hands there. He was feeling bold and you could feel it in the strong hold of his hands against yours.

But you’re physically stronger than he is.

You raised your arms and his hands together over your head, catching Changbin off-guard, twisting your wrists and your body so that you finally faced him. With his hands in the air, you grabbed him by his wrists this time, holding your shocked boyfriend’s hands together and slamming his frozen body against the wall.

You had his hands over his head, locking him in a far more vulnerable position. A blush ran through the apples of his cheeks and painted his ears red. He looked most delicious with his eyes wide open, mouth hung ajar, and pretty little head racing endlessly with thoughts.

“And what makes you think your coach would excuse this unnecessary tardiness?” You asked him with an ear-to-ear grin and half-lidded eyes.

“I’m not saying they’d…allow it…” Changbin bit his bottom lip for a second to ease his stammering. “I’m saying I don’t mind the punishment.”

You chuckled at his weak response. “Where’d you get this boldness?”

“From you, bun.”

You leaned in impossibly closer to his face, tightening the grip on his wrists. Your thumbs massaged the peaks of his palms as your gaze drilled into Changbin for making moves that you never thought he’d do. The man felt so much smaller under you, his biceps clenching suddenly at the tense atmosphere that he initiated.

You stepped away, releasing his hands, and softly smiled. “Binnie, you owe me a hearty dinner tonight.”

Changbin blinked. “Is that my punishment?”

“Yes and no,” you tapped his bicep and squeezed at his muscles. Your sultry voice returned briefly. “Why, do you want more?”

Changbin nodded almost a little too quickly to be subtle.

You turned around to face away from him and smirked.

“How about we go to the gym and find out?”

The trip on the way to the fitness center went on as it usually did, full of banter and tight hand-holding. Your boyfriend was extra giddy in the driver’s seat — he insisted on driving — and seemed way too excited for something just a little less special than a date. After all, this was your work, and he’s still your client.

That didn’t stop him from wanting to be yours for a day.

You both greeted Chris, your coworker, and Changbin’s right-hand man, and Minho, Changbin’s left-hand devil. They were both sparring until you two entered the picture. After handshakes and smiles, they noticed the subconsciously possessive hand of yours snaking around your boyfriend’s back.

They always had knowing grins and your boyfriend always looked like a bullied little dog whenever they teased him.

Whatever it was between you or the two friends, you shrugged it off and headed to the semi-private training room that Changbin liked. It was a four-walled room full of mirrors and equipment, almost always reserved for you and him, your personal training all upgraded to something much more personal now that everyone in the gym knew the both of you.

Shutting the door behind you, your boyfriend let out a giggle. You turned to see him hiding a smile with a dumb look on his face as if he was aching to tell you a joke. You lightly tapped his cheek and he shrugged it off with a downturned smile.

“Anyway, silly boy, we’re here to work out your upper body and arm strength,” you headed over to set up the equipment, yet Changbin’s eyes wouldn’t stop following your figure as you spoke. You could feel the stare right onto your ass, his favorite part of your body, and it felt nasty yet comfortably familiar.

“Binnie, please pass me the—”

“Hmm…” Changbin crossed his arms, pretending to stand inattentively.

You blinked. Tapped your shoe to grab his attention. Nothing worked, and your boyfriend — your client — just looked at his reflection in the mirror, biting back a grin with sharp teeth.

“Bin?” You called out to him. “Baby.” No response. “Bun, bunny.” The eyes that were once on your ass seemed to look away, settling for your impending reaction.

“Seo Changbin.”

He whipped his head your way, feigning surprise, but you didn’t miss the way the corners of his lips turned upwards for a split second. He loved hearing his name, loved it so goddamn much that he’d tease you this way just to hear it fall from your lips, no matter how stoically you called him. If it meant that you would succumb just to say his full name, a sign that you were his, then that meant he won in his own book.

“Mhmm? Oh right, what’d you say?”

If he was going to play some stupid game again, you were definitely catching on, and you were going to fucking win it.

“Put the bench down here.”

Changbin’s ears were impossibly red again at the sternness of your voice, but he scoffed, appearing like the overconfident self that he wanted to be to you. He grabbed the bench, sure, but he hovered it just above the spot you wanted him to place it on.

“I said put it down.”

He dropped the bench down with a loud thud. His eyes shifted back and forth between you and his pathetic reflection in the mirror.

You smirked at yourself after watching his natural obedience shine past his antics. “How about we try something?”

Changbin shook off his nervousness to listen to your inquiry.

“Plank with me underneath.” Your voice was stern, eyes all strict on his figure; if an outsider was watching, they wouldn’t know that you were looking at your very own boyfriend.

He merely scoffed in response.

“Extra bossy today, huh?” Changbin smirked at you, the shit-eating grin leaving your heart burning.

You’ve seen that smile before: he flashed that smirk often, teasing you especially whenever he sent you mirror selfies from his apartment with suggestive follow-up voicemails. It made you laugh every single time how tough he tried to look, flexing whatever muscle he wanted and texting like he was going to ruin you; only to look like a piece of dumb melted mess whenever you teased back with the promise of breaking his cock.

And now, of all times, you couldn’t back down. “Of fucking course. Aren’t you forgetting who’s boss?”

Changbin wiggled an eyebrow, knowing he was pushing exactly the right buttons. “You already know.”

“I don’t care. Remind me who your personal trainer is,” you sternly said.

A whisper left his lips. “It wasn’t supposed to be you,” he subtly said, but you unfortunately picked up on it.

The dark stare you gave him was all he needed to realize what he had done, mouthing “oh shit.” All he could do now was expect you to double down on whatever you were already doing.

He fucked up, pushing the one last button too early — but he loved that he did, and maybe you did, too.

“Who’s your trainer?” You walked behind his figure on the weight bench. The reflection of your menacing stance in the mirror in front of Changbin left him nervous, his heart skipping a beat as he watched you trace a hand down his back.

You grabbed him: one hand pushing his upper back down while the other hugged his hips upwards. With full force, you caught your boyfriend off-guard by making him fall on all fours on the bench in one singular motion.

“Who is it?” You reiterated, ignoring the long whine that escaped him.

“…Y-You, babe. I-It’s…you—” The words left his mouth all chopped up in stutters.

“I need a name.”

“Y/N,” Changbin whimpered before biting his lips to smile again.

“Seo Y/N.”

If he hadn’t pushed enough, then he did now. It was your job to tease but he was catching on. “Don’t play with me.”

“You know you l-like it. You love my name—”

His response earned him a sudden and firm slap on his ass. The boy cried out, his smile replaced by a scrunched face, his giggle replaced by a full moan.

“Filthy little gym brat,” you hissed.

You grabbed a fistful of his curly hair, forcing him to stare up at your reflection in the mirror alongside his pre-fucked-out face. “That’s what you are. Some dumb little workout junkie who thinks of nothing but their trainer’s ass.”

Changbin subtly turned his head in an attempt to look at your actual face. “You’d do the same if I was your trainer.”

“That’s what you think, rat.” You spanked his ass again, this time allowing it to sting through his thin shorts. “At least I’m not a weak little submissive toy of a man like you.”

He whimpered again, this time sounding pained. You thought it was from the spank itself but immediately figured that he was attempting not to leak precum in his shorts. His cock strained against his pants painfully. How cute.

“Y/N! Please, please!” Changbin hissed.

In a twisted attempt to worsen his situation, you sneaked your hand under his shorts to grope one of his ass cheeks, your nails digging into the spank mark. “Please what?”

“F-Fuck…” He attempted to speak straight, holding back drool from spilling out of his mouth by biting his lips back. He stared at you through the mirror with glossy eyes. The hearts in his pupils shined through his bangs, affecting you as if they were aphrodisiacs.

“Please fuck me?”

Without a doubt, his bratty antics were getting to you, but you merely smirked back at him. The same grin he flashed you earlier now pasted on your face, mirroring everything he did from the ego boost down to the annoying scoff that left his mouth. Only yours was more sadistic, infuriating, yet all sorts of hot and addicting.

Changbin anticipated your response, the brattiness leaving him, faux fear inching close to his heart.

“Do you really think you deserve that?”

He tried to whine but nothing could escape his mouth. He was incredibly hard and his poor little fat dick couldn’t take it anymore. Maybe if he didn’t rush his flirtatious antics before you two got into the gym, he would’ve changed into looser shorts that could actually give his cock some breathing room.

What’s worse is that you probably knew this but never gave him — nor his cock — the mercy to breathe.

Changbin settled on shaking his head, his scalp stinging a little from the hold of your hand on his curls. At his response, you forcibly let go of the hand, pushing his head down slightly, making his head bow in painful humiliation.

A delicious whimper made its way out of his mouth.

“I’m here to train you,” you said, your other hand still firm on his ass, “I will train you to be patient, hmm? I’m not your partner now.”

You squeezed his ass one last time before removing your hand from his shorts. “I’m your coach for now, you’re my client, yeah? I’ll fuck you if you’ve been good enough.”

Changbin simply nodded his head eagerly. You chuckled darkly, impressed at your brat’s sudden obedience.

“Now, where were we?” You slapped your palms on his round and bouncy pecs. “Oh right.”

You got on your knees down to meet his eye level, him elevated as he was supported by the bench. You looked like you could kiss him, or if he stood up then you would suck him off, or maybe eat his ass in that position — but you simply grinned, laying down with your back to the floor and front facing up under Changbin.

“Do a bench plank with me underneath. One minute and thirty seconds. Go.”

Poor guy had the most agonizing minute and a half of his life.

The sight of you, winning at the game he set, and teasing him with the nastiest curl of your dark smile left him struggling when he usually never did. He could’ve gone on for possibly two minutes or more, he never tested the limit, but maybe he hit it when he was forced to stare at you.

“Thirty. Thirty-one. Thirty-two.” The husky timbre of your voice rang in his head as you counted the seconds down, a daunting timer right underneath him. He couldn’t believe himself, that he tried to become an annoying brat — and he never expected such a return.

But what was he supposed to expect from you — the partner he bagged through fucking in the very same gym he was struggling to work out in.

Changbin’s cock was straining, raging boner only ever getting harder while staring at you and your body that he loved so much. He couldn’t say a word, mutter a single word of worship even if he wanted to; he was still keeping up the act, refusing to succumb to the game he was still trying not to lose.

Maybe he already did, but he’s stubborn, just as you found him out to be.

“Fifty. Fifty-one, fifty-two…”

Flowing through his popping veins, his blood heated up his entire body when he was just planking, a simple warm-up exercise, as he fell into the pit of disbelief that you held the reigns and all the power even while being physically under him. He felt humiliated, less than the confident man he wanted to be, feeling smaller and significantly less strong than he actually was.

“Eighty-seven, eighty-eight, eighty-nine…”

At some point, he felt like giving up, like bucking his elbows and letting go of the bench. That unfortunately meant that he would drop onto your body and crush you, losing the game and, more importantly, hurting you.

It was beyond a game at that point. His nerves were fighting themselves, he wanted to cum, to drop onto your hips and just be fucked by your body. He was so ready to admit defeat, but he couldn’t at the cost and real fucking risk of crushing you.

Crushing the body he so loved. The collection of parts that made up the whole that is you, the one he fell in love with. The curves and sharp edges that framed your plush skin and contours, the hairs that grow in directions that flatter you. There’s something in the way the sight of your body places him in a trance; perhaps because it is the very body that houses the person he loves, his coach, the one who loves him, the one who knows how to love him. And god, you were strong, strong enough to bear his weight, but his anxiety boiled all the way down his crotch.

Can’t crush the body he loves.

He didn’t want that. Of course, you wouldn’t want that. He shut his eyes and listened to your voice instead of the thought. His sweat dropped from his forehead and neck down to your cheek, making you chuckle. The lightness of your laugh relieved him a little, but also made him harder, his hips wishing to line up against yours.

Of course, you noticed. Of course, you knew how badly he wanted you. You pulled your knee up and brushed it against his crotch.

“One hundred!”

Changbin yelled loudly at the action and your last count, failing to realize that he had gone ten seconds past a minute and a half. He tensely let go of the bench, only to catch himself painfully with his elbows and propping his body just inches above yours.

He flinched more at the fact that you barely flinched rather than the last-minute save down on your body.

“Good job, Binnie. You went beyond the time limit!”

Cock aching between his legs, Changbin resisted to call for a restroom break as he knew you would’ve humiliated him. He would want that, but not in the way he truly needed. He craved your validation in the form of proper disciplining, wishing to bring out that side of you, his coach.

But lord was your praise music to his ears.

If he had a tail, he’d be wagging it then.

The workouts went on for what seemed like hours of agony and his cock wouldn’t soften at all.

He did more reps on the pulldown machine than usual. It didn’t help that you hovered over him with your ass just above his hips as his back ached and arched at each pull. He looked beautiful, *fuckable,*especially when he complained slightly about doing another set at your command.

“Another?”

“Why, can’t do it?”

“What if I said no—”

You pulled the bar down with his arms in a sudden burst of strength, stretching his entire upper body, making Changbin groan so loud it might’ve echoed beyond the private room.

“You’re doing it anyway, that’s a demand.”

Then he got on the bench press while you hovered over his crotch. You counted the reps as he tried to focus on the heavy barbells. Your ass teased him, luscious hips just above his own in a way that made him feel like throwing the weights and pushing you down on his cock instead.

Turns out that wait is more tiring than weights.

Then you commanded him to use the sit-up machine while your lips were dangerously close to his every time he curled up. Then you took him to the chest press and forced him to stare at you, not your ass in the mirror behind him. Every single other exercise felt like another lap down the circles of hell.

He also did elevated push-ups on the bench as you sat on his lower back. The tease of your ass against the back of his hips drove him insane.

You spanked his ass again and he almost came then and there.

He was heaving, not just from the muscle soreness, but also from the thought that you could just fuck his ass in this position if you could — but alas, you held it over his head, and he was just a “filthy fucking gym brat.”

You could feel your veins popping as he smirked at you upon accomplishing his last set, only to feel satisfaction when he ducked his head and pouted when you raised an eyebrow at him.

“Don’t get too cocky, rat.” Your hand found his right bicep and held the firm, exhausted muscles.“How about I check your progress, hmm?”

A finger ran across the grooves of his shoulder blades and defined collarbones. “Oh, this rat did so well after all.” You ran your knuckles against the firm skin, feeling his biceps flex under your bones. Changbin shuddered at the touch, affecting him mentally and physically.

But god was your lovely voice making it so much worse. “Body got so much prettier.”

So was your teasing. “And you’re still so eager.”

You pointed straight at his erection while your other palm squeezed his strong forearm. He hated the teasing, or loved it; he isn’t too sure. Before he could say anything, feel the humiliation creep in for being a huge pervert, you bent down — and intentionally showed the curvature of your ass — to pick up a bottle.

“Does my baby want a treat?” You offered the treat in the form of a bottle of his favorite energy drink, still all cold even after being sat on the floor throughout the entirety of the workout.

The boy was thirsting, sure, but he wanted to quench a different kind of thirst. If the short yet thick tent on his crotch was any indication, then it was the darkened gaze that suddenly flickered in his eyes when he stared at you.

“No.”

A bratty side was returning and you hated that same lopsided smile on his small, puffy mouth.

“I want Y/N.”

You fiercely grabbed him by his cheeks, pinching your thumb and index finger down onto the softness of his cheeks. Your boyfriend’s luscious lips puckered at the pressure, but he tried to look less cute in your hands with a little tinge of failure.

“Demanding now, are we? You’re gonna have to train more if you think you deserve me.” You dug your nails harder into the skin of his cheeks. “What are we here for again?”

No response. Your nails sunk in more, making your boyfriend whimper. “Answer me.”

“Training.”

You let go. “Good. Training for?”

“M-My body.”

“Yes,” your voice softened. “For your pretty body.” You felt up his muscles, fingers walking across the thin fabric of his shirt and dancing around his firm, sweating skin. The threads were cool due to his sweat yet his skin was warm under your touch, the blood of a full-body blush creeping just within his veins, flesh reddening where it’s most sensitive — which is everywhere your hands graced.

“Such a glorious thing. So thick. So firm. So smooth, so beautiful.” Fallen into a trance at your warm words and touching, Changbin grew lightheaded, losing sense of thought almost completely even if he was feeling all sorts of emotions at once.

With a dark voice, you asked him an important question. “My baby worked out so well. But you’re missing something, why are you really here?”

Everything had to be mustered up for him to even reply. “To be…a good boy.”

Dumbing down, he felt his head spinning at your touch. He couldn’t form full sentences as he grew dumb, but he tried, and you could feel him trying. He still wanted to impress you but you had him drunk on the thought of you.

At this point, his poor cock had been edged past his record limit, but he hadn’t backed down to rub one out even in the private room with you.

Even if he wanted to. God, it would be nice, being sat with his back laid flat on the bench while your glorious ass cheeks bounced on his fat cock—

“I don’t think we’re done though.”

Feeling the grooves of his well-carved muscles, relishing in the subtle instinctive flexes, you felt a burn inside your heart just above the chest. Changbin was shaking ever so slightly, judged by the mere touch of your fingertips, a lovely little tactile feeling all contrasted with the flaming intent of your actions.

“I want more from you. How much can you lift again?”

Dryness caught itself in Changbin’s throat. “M-More than…130 kilos…”

“How about we see who’s stronger?”

“Baby—” Realizing how deep your pupils seemed to drill themselves into him, he changed terms of endearment. “Coach, what do you mean?”

“I lift you, then you lift me. Let’s see who’s stronger then. Got it?”

The matter-of-factly tone of voice and hands on your own hips got Changbin reeling. He especially loved seeing your displays of strength, something you were ironically subtle about even as his own trainer.

Is it bad that he got more excited to watch you outdo him than to prove you wrong? He hadn’t realized yet, but he was losing his own game.

This gym session was going overtime.

“You gotta be stronger than me to pass.”

Squatting before him, you looked up at him with shiny eyes as you readied yourself to carry your big boy.

He thought he would look unattractive from the lower angle however you digressed. His tummy became more apparent, one of your favorite parts of his body, alongside his ass.

It was no secret that the both of you were obsessed with each other’s bottoms. He wanted yours in a way that a hungry man would want to savor the food he’d finally get. You wanted to finger his as if his plump, round, and firm cheeks weren’t an invitation to be violated.

Maybe you should finger him.

Maybe you’d do it after lifting him off the ground.

“Holy—woah, Y/N, woah woah! Put me down!”

“Ah. Won’t put you down for a minute, I kind of like the heaviness.” You lifted him up by snaking a strong arm around his hip and supporting his heavy upper body with your other arm. “You weren’t this big before.”

You spanked his ass one more time, watching the jiggly form recoil, until you held it firmly in your hand.

“Now, I’m sorry Binnie, but I can’t resist you.”

While holding him up, you slammed both of your bodies against the wall, making sure not to break the mirror behind Changbin or hurt him in the process. After realizing that it had only gotten his cock pulsating in his shorts, you made the wise decision to pull it down.

The yelp that Changbin let out was to die for.

You hastily pulled his shirt all the way up to his mouth, forcing him to bite onto the fabric as his belly and chest exposed themselves to you with the prettiest subtle bounces. They had been freshly worked out, skin glistening and glowing from his sweat. Each form of his pecs and the round firmness of his tummy was detailed enough to make you admire it even more than when it would naturally be while relaxed.

Every side of him was attractive, whether or not he worked out, but the view of his exposed body made your core tingle with delight.

Tracing a finger up his stomach, you felt up his skin until the dip of his chest. His cleavage was extra prominent, especially in the way you squeezed his body between your own and the wall. You played with the space before your fingers settled on pinching his nipple.

Of course, you were aware of his sensitivity around his chest, and that made you intentionally tease him even more.

Changbin let out a muffled cry, drool pooling in the fabric of his shirt where his mouth clamped on it. You still held him up, but this time, you adjusted your hold by throwing his leg up and over your arm. He shuddered at the action and then at the realization of what was to come.

Before he could even think, your finger dug into his exposed asshole, and prodded it open.

Changbin bit down and cried, writhing in your arm and attempting to grab anything. He settled on holding onto your shoulders as he felt your finger enter him even deeper.

His cock seemed to move painfully on its own. It twitched rapidly as the heavy dick was left unattended but his ass clenched around you in the same way.

Figuring that your boyfriend already had enough stimulation going on in your little game, you decided to make it worse by sucking on the nipple you pinched earlier.

At this point, Changbin’s mind had gone completely hazy, all thoughts fogged out as he could only focus on the pleasure on opposite ends of his body. Your tongue swirled around his hardened nipple as your lips sucked around the skin of his tit. Your finger was joined by another digit, slowly going as to let him adjust to the sensations. His prostate was getting violated, used, and abused, but it only spurred the both of you on to keep going.

And then you went merciless on him.

Your fingers curled against his sweet spot before getting pulled away, only to push back as soon as Changbin attempted to whine; his subconscious obedience proved itself to manifest as he dropped the bratty act and kept his mouth clamped around his shirt. He made muffled noise after muffled noise, tearing up and drooling, wishing for his cock to be satisfied. He was close, dangerously so, and you could feel it in the way his balls started to grow heavy against your wrist.

Denying him relief, you moved on to suck on his other nipple, picking up the pace in which you fingered your boyfriend.

He threw his head back against the mirror with a loud thud but he could care less. Your other arm’s hold around his body kept him in place but also flexed enough to make him feel all of you.

Maybe it was subconscious possessiveness. Maybe it was the need to keep his melting body up. Maybe it was the lone sensation of being surrounded by muscles and also being penetrated by muscles that made Changbin—

“No, you’re not cumming yet baby.”

Your lips left his chest with a pop and your big boyfriend ducked his head in response. You pulled the shirt off his mouth and dragged it down while your other arm set him down on the ground.

Still shaky, Changbin grew confused and frustrated — not at you, but at the denial of relief once more.

“Time to show your strength Bin. Show me what you got—”

Changbin hastily pinned your body to the mirror wall as well, breathing heavily while holding your body by the hip.

Just as you held him practically with one arm only, he did the same, this time using the other to pull your own bottoms down to reveal your ass.

“Please, Y/N, p-please, ‘m so needy.” Changbin was out of breath, brain still jumbled from being fucked mercilessly in the ass. “Can’t take…anymore…please, please…”

He mustered up every single bit in him to form sentences. The poor thing’s bicep wrapped around your ass as if he could never let you go. “Wanna fuck coach, please, let me fuck you.”

It would’ve been a grave sin to detach from you at any moment. His hunger for your body had grown past his primal instinct and now he had been craving you like crazy.

“What’s gotten you so horny?” You had to ask, shocked at the drooling, sweating, blushed-up mess of a man that you still proudly call yours.

“Couldn’t…stop staring at you. Since earlier. S-Since last night. Since yesterday. Couldn’t get my mind off you.” The words that fell from his mouth graced your ears as slowly as possible yet tasted sweeter than ever.

Praises and worship left his mouth at a rapid rate as he felt up your body lazily with his free hand. “You’re just…so strong…Y/N, you drive me crazy.” Changbin kissed any inch of skin he could get. “I really love you, you know that?”

“Of course. I love you too and you are mine.”

Your response made Changbin shiver, evident in the breathy whine he let out. “I promise I’ll be your baby b-bunny forever. Your strong bunny.” Your boyfriend shook as his mouth left love bites on your neck. “I’m obsessed with you, I love you, I love you, I—”

You shushed your boyfriend’s mindless mumbling with a deep kiss, one that Changbin had been craving for hours. He relished in anything that was you, felt like you, tasted like you, and he couldn’t bear to bring out the bratty act once you finally planted your lips on his.

Sighing into your mouth, he shuddered, leaning into your touch and pouting again to receive more of your love. You smiled in response, teasing ever so slightly, before returning the favor with a dart of your tongue.

Changbin’s arms shot up to hold onto you for support, the strong man crumbling under you. What was better was that you held him up, your own arms circling his body again, the grip from every inch of your body around his putting him steadily in his place.

Then you squeezed.

“Fuck, coach, you—” Then you pinned him down on the bench. “Y/N!”

“Hush, boy, aren’t you so excited?” You chuckled as you repositioned yourself and him. “Wanna fuck your coach so bad?”

“Please! Please, I tried to be good!”

Adjusting your hold on him, you gently laid him down on the bench and abandoned your bottoms completely. “Aw. Not so much of a brat now, are you?” You shuffled your hips to hover over his thick, desperate cock.

“Deep down you’re just a pathetic little boy, yeah?”

“Y-Yeah,” Changbin whimpered mindlessly. “Couldn’t be a brat!”

All you could do was laugh while lining up the entrance of your ass with his tip. “So why’d you try?”

“Because…” He choked on the lump in his throat.“Y-You’re so hot when you’re strict, Y/N…”

You shoved your ass down onto his cock in one fell swoop, enveloping your boyfriend whole.

It was known ever since the beginning that he loved anal; your first bit of sex in the very same gym was telling enough, but he loved giving and receiving in both ways. He loved the dirtiness but also the fact that the both of you prepare and clean yourselves well for it “just in case” it comes up.

This scene was one of those emergency moments that you were glad you both prepared for. Otherwise, you would’ve had the worst time adjusting to Changbin’s sheer girth.

His size was something he had never truly believed to be astounding, but even with your strength, you couldn’t help but lose a bit of yourself to it. The girth was to die for: even if his cock didn’t reach deep, it was heavy, loaded, and big enough to stretch your ass wide. As you lifted your ass before slamming it back down, the feeling of your behind being opened and filled despite the tightness felt amazing.

Changbin felt like crying at your first strokes. He always loved it when you two fucked or made love, but shit, he basically edged himself the whole time in the gym. He had never done such a thing, most especially while putting up a brat act, but every single morsel of thought flew right out of his head as your ass picked up the pace and took him whole.

Somehow, you’d both become sopping wet as you both met in the middle once, twice, thrice, four times — you’d lost count, unable to keep the seconds and rounds of body slamming as you would’ve earlier.

You couldn’t help but moan from the pleasure, making Changbin hold you using all of his limbs with the last bits of strength in him. The both of you knew that he wouldn’t last.

A heat was pooling in your stomach as well, sliding all the way down to your crotch just in front of your ass. While his cock hit the sweet spot in your hole over and over, you could feel your own orgasm building quickly alongside your boyfriend’s.

Neither of you could care less about the mess you were about to make.

Quickly picking up the pace, you slammed your hips down over and over again and pressed your hands against his chest, rubbing his nipples and soothing the sore muscle. The stimulation grew far too much and too fast, but Changbin was so lost in the ecstasy that he couldn’t complain, and he grew so physically tired that he couldn’t hold you off.

Despite the hurt in his cock he still didn’t want to stop you.

“S-So fucking…close…holy shit, Y/N, gonna cum!”

“Cum inside me,” you demanded.

Fully shaking, Changbin dug his fingers into your thighs with all his remaining might and held you in place, shooting load after load from his poor, aching cock deep into your plush walls.

He was so warm, his release filling you with a certain nastiness that you loved so much. You could tell how much he saved all of it from the amount he shot into you. It even started spilling despite the fact that you stilled in place, unable to move from the force of his hands pulling you down. Maybe his training on the pulldowns earlier helped him with it.

But you were both far from done.

You kissed Changbin on his plush lips and sighed in faux contentment. “Binnie baby, you filled me well…” He could only mouth “thank you” in reply.

Then you pulled his sore body up after pushing yourself off his sore cock. “But I want more.”

His eyes widened in a mix of surprise and fear at the prospect of you using his spent cock more than he intended. This might’ve been the punishment he wanted, but it was nothing like what he’d expected.

Making matters worse, you sat behind him and suddenly wrapped your arm around his neck. The other hand found his cock and both arms squeezed, locking Changbin in your hold.

The boy moaned the loudest he had ever done in his entire life.

“Gonna fuck you like this,” you said as you pumped his cock at a rapid pace, “I’ll milk you dry.”

Your words left Changbin gasping, moaning, whimpering, and whining like a trapped dog. The tears in his eyes flooded down as he struggled to adjust in your arms, but god, you were far stronger than you displayed earlier. He barely had any strength left to push you off, to wiggle out, to even form a coherent enough sentence or word.

Was it bad that he liked it this way?

Changbin could only tremble. He moaned your name deliciously over and over as your hand pumped his fat cock from the tip all the way down to his balls at a breakneck pace. You softened the headlock slightly to make him breathe, but the flexing of your forearm drove your boyfriend past the point of self-control. He was overstimulated in every single way.

Again, it was the strength display. The fact that you were putting such a huge man like him in his place. You rendered him unable to function, tired him out until he became putty in your arms, and now you had him caged like a real rat. You flexed your forearm again and Changbin let out a severely choked out whimper.

He couldn’t take it anymore. He came non-stop with his head rolled back to your shoulder, curly bangs covering the fucked-out face he gave you from the sheer amount of pleasure.

Overstimulation sent him over the edge though, making him cum again and again. You could even feel the vein on his cock pop and pulsate under your palm. The lone fact that it only seemed to soften after a few more shots of cum on Changbin’s own belly and on your hand made you feel powerful.

“My tamed brat, my good boy.”

The praise made Changbin see stars. You saw the hearts in his eyes as he struggled to look back at you.

Wholly dumb and unable to move, your boyfriend simply lay in your arms and you both sat there for a moment. You pet Changbin’s fluffy hair with one arm and rubbed his belly with the other, playing with the cum on his tummy before you two shifted in your seats.

A year or so ago, you two had been in the same dilemma and position as you were. You and Changbin were both sweaty and exhausted, his head rested on your shoulder, unable to move. The both of you relished in the glow of being fucked nasty in the gym with your clothes barely hanging onto your bodies, soiled with sweat and cum — it sounded disgusting, but it was the reality that you two had to face with your puffy cheeks.

Lord knows how agonizing the cleanup would’ve been if you weren’t going to do it with your boyfriend at least.

Guilty at the mess he made, Changbin kissed your face everywhere and mumbled to “take care of it” as he attempted to stand up — only to groan in pain after the soreness hit all of his muscles at once. You laughed and supported his weight with your own. Unable to register how you’re still managing, you guided him up and took mops, towels, and bottles of isopropyl alcohol.

Everyone knew you two were lovebirds, but nobody could use this room after you tainted it with an atmosphere of pure sin.

It’s funny though, you thought; Changbin’s goofy self returned in full force, albeit in a tired body, but still entertained you enough to keep your spirits up while cleaning the room. He hummed, giggled at you, nudged his face into your arm, and even sniffed at you as a joke.

It was your silly signal to take a break in a shower together within the adjacent locker rooms that, somehow, were empty then.

Perfectly enough, you two took a single stall together and showered together just as you two were accustomed to doing. This time was a little more special, the deja vu of the first meeting settling in as you happily scrubbed your boyfriend’s once-sweaty scalp. He was too tired to do it to himself he returned the favor by cleaning you too. The rest of the shower was quiet save for a few “I love you’s” and light chuckles.

He gave your back a peck before drying it, relishing in your natural scent and the aroma of the post-shower lotion. You dressed him up in your extra clothes the same way that he dressed you up too, feeling at home even in a slightly public space.

Home was wherever Changbin was, in the same way, you were his home as well.

Back to the reality of the messy room, you handed him a mop and he grimaced.

“Hey, Y/N, slap my wrist next time I try to act bratty. That’s not really me.”

Your reaction must’ve been funny, as your face earned Changbin a hearty giggle.

“Then who might this just-as-handsome asshole-ish guy be?”

“I’m thinking Changbin would be a fitting name.”

“Ew.” You grimaced in the same way he did earlier. “And you should be jealous of him?”

“Nah. ‘Cause I know you love The Seo Changbin only.”

You snorted at him and threatened to swipe his leg with the mop. He laughed and snorted back. He liked the idea of poking fun at you with his own name so much that he pulled it thrice.

“Say, I owe you dinner tonight, right bun?” He huddled closer to you, the comfortable distance only growing warmer. It was touching to know that he remembered your silly claim from earlier, softening your heart. You got excited to listen as his ideas for hearty food were always right, a privilege you unlocked by having a lifestyle journalist wrapped around your finger.

“Mhmm. Gotta heal from that ass-kicking I gave you.” You bumped the side of your hip onto him, but he blushed as the slight memory of half an hour ago flashed before his eyes.

“Anyway! I know a cozy restaurant just downtown that serves banger seafood. It’s the side branch of that beachside bar I told you about.” Changbin went on to describe his recommendation.

Your eyes lit up at the idea. “Wow, your lifestyle writing really takes you places, huh?”

“Yeah, but actually,” Changbin raised his index finger, “I discovered it through my side gig’s talent, Chan—I mean CB.”

You paused and raised an eyebrow back. “…Interesting. Tell me about it.”

“How about I just show you?”

As if on cue, you both heard a punch, then a comically loud groan that sounded like Minho. Following it was an even louder apology from Chris. The other end of the gym must’ve been busier than you two, you thought.

The laughs that escaped both of your chests filled the air of the private room. It was one of many beats in your relationship that you shared with him often but it’s still an unconfined joy to have with him. You could live in the banter and tiny conversations forever, even the bratty behavior he displayed only cemented how much you loved the man even if he made your heart burn and filled your ass up.

Brats used to be off-limits until you brought him to his limit, and now it’s all you could ever think about.

Changbin expected punishment but only got rewarded with your love and warmth in the end. It’s a mission he successfully failed and a game you aimlessly won.

As you two walked out of the fitness center, wobbling in your steps back to the car, you fought over who’d be the driver. You won again, and Changbin fell asleep angelically in the backseat. At least then you’d wake him up with the hearty meal he recommended.

Even after all this time, your client — and boyfriend — never changed the love he had, has, and always will have for you. He might as well renew his gym subscription under your name even after the gym closes.

taglist: @toastyseungmo @hobihearteu @biddes-enthusiast @snow-pegasus @subby-kpop @myrandomthoughtsandhobbies @eggielix @turnipfizzle @hanniecheesecake @chrisbahng @laylasbunbunny @ppiri-bahng @he-they-heathen @chriscentric @svintsandghosts @starryoong @bbyquokka @abiaswreck @suengmi @fun-fanfics @fairylouist + @stupidshitsworld @compersian @skz-hell @certifiedwootiny @xcookiemonsteer @lino-jagiyaa @imrllytootiredforthis @straykidsholicleigh @wonhosmistress @fruitcakebin @jisvngc0re1 @silentreadersthings

very special mentions to @meivida for proofreading and editing my fic (and for indulging in my nonsense). please wish them good health this year!

header art is mine! have a great new year everybody :))

thank you for reading ! consider reblogging and leaving feedback if you loved my work 💗 artwork and writing © ipegchangbin. no reposts and translations.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Paradigm Shift 2

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: you get transferred to a new position but it’s hardly a breath of fresh air. (plus!reader)

Characters: Loki, Bucky Barnes, this reader is known as Billie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

You finally get access to the calendars and set to work. Thor wasn’t exaggerating. Overlapping blocks, unanswered RSVPs, overdue items. You do your best to sort through it all, ignoring the ache in your knees until you have to reposition on the hard floor. You don’t think this is ergonomically safe work. 

When you get a handle on Laufeyson’s calendar and start on Barnes’ the door to your left swings open and before you can react, the box is on its way across the floor. You’re not quite sure how you managed it, but you saved your laptop before it could go with it. The contents scatter as you hold up the computer and puff out. 

Mr. Laufeyson steps back and huffs as he crosses his arms, “what are you doing on the floor?” 

“Well, sir, I tried to say something before but...” You brace the wall and stand, “I do need a desk--” 

“Yes, yes, find one,” he tries to shoo you with his long fingers. 

“I tried, sir. I don’t see any available down here--” 

“Have them bring your old one down,” he demands tersely. 

“Yes, sir, will do,” you frown. “And er, I’ve got your calendar figured out.” 

“Mm, do you now?” He challenges as his eyes drift by you. 

You turn and look down at your possessions as they lay strewn. Right. You turn and go about collecting it all and shove it back into the box. When you’re done, he’s gone. Great. 

You hitch up the box and stand, blowing out a breath. It’ll take some time to get movers to deal with your desk. Nothing ever happens in a timely manner around here. As you resign yourself to taking up space in the breakroom, Mr. Barnes’ door opens. 

You face him as you hug the cardboard, “sir, I'm working on your calendar. I just need to--” 

“You need a desk,” he says promptly. 

“Yes, sir, I was just going to call the movers--” 

“Nonsense,” he snaps his fingers and signals you to follow him. 

You shut your mouth and nod. You trail after him as he strides down the hall into the bullpen. His long brown hair flicks under his ears and away from his neck, a few strands caught in his collar. He stops and puts his hands on his hips, scanning the room. 

“Hackett,” he points without looking, “pack your stuff. You’re fired.” 

A man with a shining bald head grunt, “sir?” 

“You heard me. You missed that Southeast order. Won’t happen again. So leave.” 

“Mr. Barnes,” the man you assume is Hackett stands, “Southeast--” 

“Your paperwork is down with HR. You can get sorted there,” Barnes overrides him, “clear out your desk.” 

Hackett winces and looks down at his computer, defeated. You stand speechless as Barnes faces you, “there, you got a desk. You’re welcome.” 

“Sir, thank you,” you murmur. 

“Call the movers anyway, they’ll need to move it closer.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Actually, fuck it,” he jabs his finger in the air and marches away.  

You stand dumbly as you are as Hackett packs up and you try not to make eye contact. You hear Barnes low rumble from the hallway before he reappears with Laufeyson at his back. They approach Hackett and the latter swipes his arms to clear off the desk of the small bits and bobs. The terminated employee cries out in horror. 

Barnes rips out the extension cord from the wall and tucks it under. The two men each take an end and lift the desk, balancing the monitor and essentials on top as they carry it past the employees who try not to crane to see. You’re in disbelief, humiliated by the unnecessary scene of your transfer. You could’ve waited for the movers. 

You make yourself move and catch up to them as they plant your desk at the crux of the hallway. You’re the gatekeeping of the domain, sat right where everyone will have to walk by you. Great. 

The plunk it down and clap off their hands. You wonder how long it’s been since they did that amount of manual labour. Laufeyson nods and strides off as Barnes frames his hips triumphantly. 

“I’m a man that gets things done, doll,” he declares, “let that set the tone.” 

You attempt a smile but it probably just looks like a weird twitch, “yes, sir. I’ll have your agenda ready each day before you get here.” 

“You will,” he agrees, “before his.” 

He spins and stops before he can stride away, “coffee. That’s what I came out for. Dark roast, black.” 

“Sure thing, sir,” you set the box on the desk and go to step around it. 

“Ah, not that shit, Roasters’ down on King.” 

You take a breath and grab your purse from on top of the box, “dark roast, black.” 

“Good girl,” he caps off the conversation before he struts off, hands in his pockets. 

Right. They are both awful. This is going to be like pulling teeth. You already miss Odinson’s demands. At least he gave them. These two seem too far up their own asses to bother. 

You take out your phone and check the group chat. Ugh, yes. Drinks. You swear, if there isn’t alcohol at the end of this day, you’re going to cry.