#i have to explain every thought i have about her

[no-144444]

confronting- o.piastri

pairing: oscar piastri x fem! Skyf1interviewer! reader

summary: a confrontation in a hotel room doesn't go so well thanks to Franco's loud mouth...

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

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Entertaining the idea of dating Oscar when you knew you’d be gone at the end of the season wasn’t fair. He deserved someone who’d be there for every race, be there for him. You weren’t that person. You weren’t the person anyone should want, you just weren’t like that. 

Qatar rolled around and Oscar won the Sprint, and he was P3 in the race. You were meant to do the interviews. He knew that. That’s why he frowned when he was met with Jenson’s face at the end of the race. 

“Where’s Y/n?” he asked, not holding the microphone up to his mouth. 

Jenson smirked. “Missing her?”

Oscar nodded. 

“She’s with Franco, he was pretty upset after the crash.”

“Oh,” he nodded, and the interview began. 

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It’s not like you were trying to avoid him, it was just… easier that way. And Franco really was quite shaken after the crash, so that part wasn’t a lie either. You just didn’t want to deal with all of the shit the media and people online would give the two of you. You just wanted a nice, clean break from the world of F1, and the people online who shipped you and Oscar would never let that happen. It was upsetting, because he really was a good friend to you, and you thought you were a good friend to him. Maybe it could’ve been something else, if things were different. You sat with Franco, calming him down since he was pretty upset that his second last race of the season was fucked by a silly turn-one incident. 

“What’s going on with you and that model?” you asked. He chuckled. 

“Oh my, you saw it too? It’s so embarrassing,” he sighed. “Even my mother has been asking me about it.”

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” you laughed at his reaction. “We can talk about anything you want.”

“What’s going on with you and Oscar?” he smirked and your face fell slightly. 

“Nothing,” you shook your head. “We’re friends.”

“Friends?” he pried. “You two seem like more than ‘friends’ to me.”

You rolled your eyes. “We’re not. We’re just friends,” you assured him. 

Franco sat up, leaning closer to you. He was so close his breath was on your cheek, his eyes staring longingly into yours. You knew what he was doing.  “So he wouldn’t mind it if someone kissed you, no?”

You laughed, pushing him back down to his previous position of lying down. “Stop being weird. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. He shouldn’t care anyway.”

“Let’s test that,” Franco challenged. “Kiss me in front of him, and then we’ll know. I’ll ask Lando to tell me about it, they’re close, right?”

You sighed, something about it felt a little bit… manipulative. And it’s not like you were looking for Oscar to like you back, he didn’t. That’s what he’d said the last time, it was only a joke, a prank, a mistake. Which was fine with you, of course. It made sense. You couldn’t be there for him while you were supposed to be there for someone else. Someone else on his team. 

Ok, so maybe the move to Indycar isn’t just about Sky starting to cover it. Maybe, they need more European fans, and you have to go over there and sell it to them with a relationship with Pato O’Ward. Maybe McLaren is paying you a lot of money to do that. 

Just maybe though. 

“I can’t do that Franco,” you explained. “It’s not fair. And anyways, I’m kind of… seeing someone.”

“Is it Oscar?!” he questioned. You shook your head. “Lando? Lance? Zhou? Yuki? Who?” “He’s not in F1!” you giggled, watching as Franco freaked out. 

“Who is he?! You have to tell me right now!” he begged, taking your hands. 

“He’s in Indycar, that’s all I’ll tell you,” you smirked and his jaw dropped. 

“Is that why you’re leaving?!” he almost shouted. 

“No! Sky really is just branching out, but yes, it is nice that I’ll actually be able to watch his races,” you chuckled. 

“I’ll miss you,” he frowned. 

“I’ll miss you too,” you chuckled, pulling him in for a hug. “Now, I have to go do my post-race duties, so I’ll see you in Abu Dhabi, alright?”

He frowned even deeper. “Alright,” he mumbled. “I can’t believe you’re leaving me!”

You left the Williams garage with a smile on your face, very much amused by your conversation with Franco. 

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You pulled up to the media pen, really to meet with Jenson and Nico, your co-hosts this weekend, but they were nowhere to be seen. Regardless, you prepared yourself with the running order. 

Lance, Lando, Max, Checo, Zhou, and Fernando. That’s all you had to get through before you got on a flight to Abu Dhabi the next morning. After another few minutes of waiting, Nico and Jenson showed up, acting slightly strange. They weren't really speaking to you, only with each other. It’s not like they were excluding you, just… not asking for your input. They seemed guilty too. 

Lance, Lando, Max, and Checo were all fine, polite and out of there quickly. Oscar didn’t show up. Unsurprising, as you had been avoiding him. Zhou and Fernando went by in a flash, and you were back to your hotel by 2am. 

When you walked into your hotel, you were not expecting to see Oscar Piastri standing outside your door. 

Holy shit. You were so astronomically fucked. 

“What are you doing here?” you questioned. He turned to you. 

He cleared his throat. He’d been thinking of a response to that question since the second he’d started waiting outside for you. What was he doing? This was insane. His plan was to make you stay, but he was much too upset to talk rationally when he got the text from Franco about you seeing an Indycar driver. Honestly, it crushed him. He genuinely thought you’d liked him. “I wanted to… talk? Or something, just to gauge what the fuck is going on here,” he was getting heated, and you understood he was probably angry with you, and it’s not like he didn’t have a reason. 

“What do you mean?” you asked, opening your hotel room door and letting him inside. 

“You’re going to Indycar?” he questioned. “What the fuck?”  

You gulped, hard. “Yeah?” 

“Why?” he demanded. “What does Indycar have that F1 doesn’t? F1 is faster cars, faster drivers, more money, more races, more countries, more-”

“Oscar! Did it ever occur to you that this wasn’t my fucking choice?!” you shouted over him. Silence. “Indycar doesn’t have Sky coverage, but Europeans are interested in the sport and they need a known interviewer to go there and make it easier to sell it to people, and I got picked. That’s it.” 

“So it has nothing to do with whatever Indycar driver you’re fucking?” he scoffed. Your face fell. Your eyes fell to the hardwood floor beneath your feet. “Yeah, I know.”

Your face soured and you looked up again, offended. Who did he think he was? He had no say in your life at all. You’d hated him for 2 years, and you had no real reason to, now you had one. “I owe you nothing Oscar. I’m an adult in a consenting relationship, and yes he’s in Indycar, is that a crime?” 

“Is that why you’re going over there?” he asked, stepping closer to you. You could cut the atmosphere in the room with a knife. “Or are you running away from something here?” 

“Fuck you,” you pushed him back. This wasn't the Oscar you knew. He was different, angry, mean, and rude. You owed him nothing. “Get out.” 

He nodded, and left without another word. 

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mclaren masterlist

navigation for my blog :)

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

taglist:

@anotherapollokid @chelseyyouraverageluigi @suns3treading @patis643 @trees-are-books @stressed-cherry @revrse @awenthealchemist @imdyinghelpplease @successfulgarlic81

[naturesapphic]

I absolutely love ur writing and ive had this fic idea for a while now and i thought only u could do it justice. So i was thinking a fic based on the song all mine by brent faiyaz, where its the bit "you told me your new man dont make you nut thats a damn shame" and its reader is or was in a relationship and they couldnt make her cum so billies so cocky about it and that she could do it like the bit in the song "you come here ill knock your pussy out the damn frame" so yeah billie making reader cum easily. Dom!billie obvi and some strap action if u wouldnt mind. Tysm ly💖💖. If u need that bit of the song starts at 0:56

All Mine

Billie Eilish x fem!reader

Warnings: smut, dom!billie, strap on

“You told me your new man don’t make you nut, that’s a damn shame”

You and Billie have been together now for about six months now and the only thing yall have really done was make out and be handsy with each other. You knew you wanted more but you were nervous about taking that extra step with her. In past relationships, which were with men, they never got you to cum. It embarrassed you to no end, never having that sweet release that you always gave your exes and never experiencing yourself. So the thought of having sex with Billie was making you extremely nervous.

Which is stupid because you knew Billie was very experienced and could make you easily cum but it still scared you nonetheless. So when things were getting pretty heated you held yourself back and Billie could sense it. She asked you about it and even though you were embarrassed to tell her, you did anyway. Billie’s face contorted into shock then it morphed into sadness and understanding. After she let you explain, she went into her own bad experiences and relationships where they didn’t satisfy her.

You were surprised and shocked that Billie went through some of the same stuff you did but it made you fall for her even more. She reassured you that if you still didn’t want to have sex that it was completely okay, which melted your heart. With Billie reassuring you and telling you her own experiences, you felt a lot better about it and you wanted to share that special moment with her. You trust her more than anything.

“You come here, I’ll knock your pussy out the damn frame”

Billie was pounding into your cunt like it was nothing. She knew she could make you satisfied, she always knew. That’s why she’s always so cocky all the time. She knows that she’s better that your exes and she knows she about to make you cum. It only took her about five minutes to get you this way, your body squirming and your hands clawing at her skin. You were moaning her name so loudly that you wondered if anybody near would hear you. You knew Billie to be cocky, you sensed it but you knew that was gonna get worse as she knows she can fuck you better than anyone who’s ever tried.

“But I’ll love you better if you let me.”

You felt the tightness in your belly and you knew you were about to cum any second. The smirk on Billie’s face grew more and more as she knew you were about to climax. White cum covered Billie’s fingers and you felt your body shake in ecstasy as your orgasm washes over you. Billie pulled her fingers out of your pussy and plopped them in her moan, moaning softly at your sweet but tangy taste. “I’m so proud of you babygirl. I knew I would get you to cum less than five minutes. How are you feeling?” She said softly as she moved some hair from your face, making you smile at her. “Thank you bils….i feel amazing. Like im floating on a cloud.” You replied happily.

Billie giggled at your comment and leaned down to place a sweet kiss on your head. She helped you up and y’all started aftercare which was now one of your favorite things to experience with Billie. She was so kind and gentle with you and made sure to reassure you every second she could. When the aftercare was over, the two of you went into the bed and Billie pulled your body on top of hers. “I love you so much y/n. Thank you for letting me making you feel good and loved.” Billie whispered against your ear and placing a kiss on it. “Thank you Billie and I love you so much too.”

A/n: thank you anon for this request and I hope you enjoy it! I hope everyone else likes it too! Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! Take care of yourselves. I love y’all! :)

[aaplecore]

Falling For You (Literally)

(Agatha Harkness x fem!reader)

Summary : Wanda Maximoff hires you to do a landscaping job for her, and her neighbor is absolutely not subtle.

Warnings / tags : smut (18+ !!): oral (a!receiving), pet names (hon, dear, dollface, darling), public(ish) sex / almost getting caught

Notes : first of all: this entire post is inspired almost entirely by @evgar ‘s art !! I hope this is okay that i’m posting this, and everyone should absolutely check out their art it is so amazing <33

Second : should I write a part 2 for this w/ another day on the job? idk yet :)

side note: THE TITLE IS SO CHEESY IM SORRY

Recently, Wanda Maximoff had hired you to help out with some landscaping around her house. Vision thought it was about time they had a change up in the fliers now that they weren’t trying to prevent Sparky from eating whatever they planted.

It was a pretty short job, only a few days of re-doing their front lawn to keep it pristine and perfect. It would be a super easy job. That is if they didn’t have the most distracting neighbor possible.

Constantly, you saw this gorgeous older woman passing through her kitchen, always sipping what seemed like tea from a different mug each time. And god damn, was she beautiful.

The first time you saw her, she was wearing nothing but a black, silk robe with purple flowers and long green stems. The lowest v-neckline you could imagine revealed just a little bit of her cleavage and before you knew it, you were tripping over a bag of fertilizer, landing with a face plant in the dirt. As soon as you were up, you looked back to see her briefly snickering as she turned away. You noticed that her long, wavy hair seemed to sway a bit with her hips as she walked. It was embarrassing… but it seemed like she paid a little bit more attention to you after that day.

A few days after that little incident, you were working out front, hauling around a wheel barrow of fertilizer to finish up a row of Azaelas while you sipped an iced coffee. As per usual, you were glancing over to the woman’s window every now and then, although she hadn’t shown up yet. You were silently hoping that was just because it was still pretty early.

And… you were right. Only a matter of minutes later, she was walking into the my tv hen. This time, she was in a long purple robe, with no tie in the middle… revealing her only wearing a matching set of lacey purple underwear. The bra was pretty damn close to see through, too. Your jaw literally dropped, along with almost dropping your cup of coffee.

And of course… she had to choose that exact moment to look over at you.

Immediately, you looked forward to see you were already stepping into a hole. Before you could really gauge what was happening, you were—again—falling face first into the dirt, now landing in your wheelbarrow, knocking you over with it. The coffee flies out of your hand, splashing all over Wanda’s lawn.

“Ow, fuck…”

You mutter, pulling yourself up and out of the wheelbarrow and brushing dirt out of your hair. As you’re running a hand through the tangles, you hear a voice coming from behind you. Of course, you turn around to see the woman standing there.

Her long hair falls over her face just so… and she’s still not tied her robe. She was standing over you. Half naked. Glaring.

“Are you stalking me?”

She asks bluntly, her hands on her hips. That makes you stop in your tracks. She thought you were a stalker. Shit.

“I’ll have you know, I’m a very powerful woman and you don’t want to fuck with me.”

Her glare is intense as she watches you stand up, looking you up and down—and not subtly at all.

“What? No! Why would I be stalking you?”

You try to explain quickly, reaching over to pick up your coffee cup from the ground.

“I’m doing landscaping for Wanda!”

It seems at your attempt at explaining yourself, the woman’s face softens.

“Oh… I see.”

She mumbles, now crossing her arms. You couldn’t help but glance down at the way it made her cleavage more visible.

“You were staring at me. Why?”

“You’re standing half-naked in front of the entire neighborhood.”

You explain, tilting yo head to the side. Was this behavior just normal for her?

“Yes. It’s my house. I don’t see why that’s an issue.”

The woman shrugs, looking at you like that was the most obvious thing in the world. You open your mouth to argue that it’s not exactly normal when she’s standing in front of a massive window facing her neighbor’s house but she just interrupts you.

“Well, come inside.”

She sighs, turning to head back to her house before you can even question why the hell she’s inviting you inside.

“What? Why- i’m on the job. And I don’t even know you.

You try to argue, looking between the fallen wheelbarrow and her. She turns back to you, looking at you again like you’re some kind of idiot.

“I’m Agatha Harkness. Now you know me. Plus, you spilled your coffee.”

She points out, motioning to the empty cup in your hand.

“I’m not coming out here to make you a fresh cup.”

She shrugs, cocking her head to motion for you to follow.

“Come on, hon, I don’t bite.”

Her sarcastic tones gives away the fact that she’s smiling a little… despite having called you a stalker minutes ago. For some reason though… you follow her to her house.

“Don’t mind the mess.”

She mutters, picking up a singular out of place mug from her coffee table as you enter. The vibe of the house isn’t exactly what you expected. It’s messy… but in a somehow organized way. Like everything is exactly where it’s meant to be.

“Come on, i’ll fix you a new cup. D’you take sweetener, dear?”

She asks, calling from the kitchen where she’s already disappeared.

“Uh… yeah. Sweetener would be nice.”

You mumble, following after her. Her kitchen is just as nice, with a big window facing Wanda’s house. There are very obviously curtains, but she could clearly care less.

“I- uh, I wanted to apologize. For staring earlier.”

Your tone has turned a little big softer, your nerves getting the best of you. Just watching her move around the kitchen in nothing but her bra and panties with a dressing gown is making you a stuttering mess.

“Nonsense. Don’t apologize.”

Agatha shakes her head, facing away from you, getting the coffee maker all set up casually.

“I can’t blame you, dollface.”

She smirks back at you, pressing start on the coffee maker and turning back to face you. Her arms are crossed and, again, she’s very obviously looking you up and down.

For a moment, there’s just quiet between you. You’re leaning against the island in the middle of the kitchen, while she’s leaning on the counter in front of you. It’s a struggle not to look down at her body. All the noise in the kitchen is the sound of the coffee maker slowly brewing your cup.

After a few more seconds of silence, Agatha finally speaks up.

“Why don’t you come over here, hon?”

She asks, something in her tone… sultry. Lower than it was before. Without even questioning her, you push off the counter to stand in front of her, your bodies mere inches apart.

“Why?”

You ask quietly, looking at her. Her smile is damn near predatory. It looks like she’s almost taunting you.

“I think you know why.”

She replies quietly, reaching out and pulling you in by the waist. Her hand is not even grabbing you, but somehow, her grip is firm and her hands are steady. For a moment, you wonder what they would feel like on you. Or in you. Either way.

“You’re just so… cute, hon.”

She murmurs, bringing her free hand up to cup your cheek, turning your face as if she’s examining you. For a second, you very obviously see her look down at your lips. And your faces are only centimeters apart. You swallow hard, feeling your heart pounding in your chest. And… she’s just smiling. Like nothing is wrong.

She pulls your face in just a slight bit, slowly moving… until you just give in and kiss her. With you having taken the initiative, she’s shocked for a moment. But, after a second, her grip on your hip tightens and she’s pulling you flush against her. The way she’s kissing you back is almost messy, and your body is already heating up. Quickly, her hand moves to tangle in your hair, pressing your face against hers desperately, getting somehow more pressed up against you.

Already, you’re reaching your hand down to her underwear, tracing your fingers gently along the hem of the purple lace. The little noise she makes is absolutely hypnotic and you just want to hear more of it. Slowly, you start peppering kisses down her jawline and neck, gently sucking marks into the curve connecting her shoulder to her neck.

“Wow, you’re quick, hon…”

She mumbles, smiling down at you proudly. She’s gotten exactly what she wanted. You bite the side of her neck as a response to her teasing, trailing your free hand up her side. A quiet gasp comes from her when you bite down, she’s honestly astonished that you’re willing to be so bold with her.

“You’re already gasping.”

You mutter against her neck, moving your hand up to cup her bra, causing her to let out a strained moan.

“And moaning.”

You point out, moving your lips further down, kissing down her collarbones and chest. At this point, you have to bend your knees to kiss her, needy to taste any bit of skin you can. You’re nearly kneeling in front of her already. And Agatha’s living for the sight of you under her.

“You say that like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing.”

She scoffs, her hand still tangled in your hair, humming softly when you kiss around the curve of her breast. Slowly, you’re moving further down, leaving marks as you go, only fueled by the little moans and hums coming from Agatha when you kiss a particularly sensitive spot.

Before you know it, you’re kneeling in the ground in front of her. Agatha is still leaning up against the counter, while you’re hidden behind the island underneath her. You pepper gentle kisses all around her thighs and stomach, up until you’re kissing the fabric of her underwear right over her clit. Even the slight pressure causes Agatha to moan again.

If you had the resistance, you’d tease her more but, after hearing that noise, you hook your fingers under her panties and pull them down until they drop to the ground. Now it’s just Agatha, standing in her bra and dressing robe, her pussy naked in front of your face. The smirk on her face is still proud but you can tell she’s a little bit weakened—there’s a slight furrow in her brows.

“Come on, darling, I don’t have all day.”

She murmurs, her voice strained. Of course, you don’t hesitate to finally start kissing her. Her core is already practically dripping wet. When you press your tongue up against her, licking a line up to her clit, she lets out a loud moan. Even the slightest touch has her writhing. To keep her still, you firmly plant your hands on her thighs. Again, you lick her, just to watch her head roll back, her hand in your hair tightening.

“Fuck, doll, just like that. Faster, baby.”

She commands. Again, you listen without hesitation, dipping your tongue into her folds, applying more pressure when your tongue circles her clit. Her knuckles are turning white as she holds the counter, her eyes practically rolling back into her head. And damn she’s vocal. It seems like she’s already close just from you circling her clit with your tongue.

Speeding up your pace a little, you feel her hips bucking into your mouth a little, until she suddenly stops her movements, clearly tensing up.

“Fuck… Wanda.”

She groans. When you look up—still licking her, your hands planted firmly on her thighs—you see that she’s smiling and waving, trying to look as normal as possible. But of course, you see your opportunity. You bring your tongue up to her clit and start flicking it quickly, making her moan even louder, unable to hold it back.

Meanwhile, while Wanda waves to Agatha through her kitchen window—her lower half hidden by the island—her face turns to confusion. She’s not used to seeing Agatha looking nervous. Yet now, it looks like she’s sweating. Agatha curses internally, praying for Wanda to just leave already so she can stop smiling like a lunatic.

Eventually, Wanda walks away and Agatha groans, looking down at you with a glare—although you can tell she’s not exactly angry—as her hand tightens its hold on your hair.

“Brat.”

She mutters, rolling her head back with a strained ‘fuck’ when you press up against her clit. You know just how to shut her up. And you know she’s close because her hips are bucking up into your face again.

“Just a bit faster, doll.”

Agatha moans, the sound strained between moans. You put some pressure over her slit, sucking on it to get her over the edge… until she’s practically screaming, her hips bucking into your face as her thighs shake.

Slowly, you help her ride through it, licking up the slick from between her thighs, although she’s still damp even when you come back up to stand in front of her. There’s a little sheen from her come on your lips.

“Who knew landscapers would be such a good fuck…”

Agatha mutters, grabbing her panties from the ground with a smirk.

“I do my best.”

You reply confidently, shrugging. She snorts a laugh at your response, shaking her head.

“I can tell… how about you come back tomorrow? I can brew you some tea.”

She offers, her voice still sultry as she hands you the cup of coffee you’d evidently forgotten. You almost forgot about work. Almost.

“I can’t stay for a bit?”

You ask, pouting as if it’ll be any help.

She scoffs in response, slipping back into her panties.

“I’ve got a meeting in twenty, doll. I’ve gotta get ready. This was nice, though.”

Already, her hands are on your shoulders, guiding you to the door. She’s so… casual about this.

“I’d better see you tomorrow… Now go tell Wanda you had to grab some supplies form your car.”

It’s like she’s doing a business transaction now, waving with her fingers to you as she opens the door.

“I- right. Yes.”

You stutter, realizing now that this was just casual for her… but still, she invited you back. And a win is a win.

She mouths ‘bye-bye’ at you as you walk down her front lawn, watching you from a large brick in the door. You can’t help but keep glancing back at her.

“Oh, and, hon!”

She calls out, snapping as if she just remembered something when you’re nearly halfway back to Wanda’s house.

“Wear something that’s easy to take off tomorrow, okay?”

Even just that little comment causes you to blush again. Seeing the flush in her cheeks makes her smile again, like she knows she’s got you wrapped around her finger. And that’s the last thing you see before she shuts her front door.

[rgwriteshockey]

the next step w/ luke hughes ⇒

luke hughes x gf!reader

summary: luke hughes gets drafted by the new jersey devils in 2021, but after michigan’s heartbreaking loss in the 2023 frozen four, he joins the devils for the remainder of the playoffs. as he navigates the nhl, his girlfriend y/n supports him from afar, and they make their long-distance relationship work.

word count: 2.3k

warnings: light angst

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luke hughes had always dreamed of playing in the nhl. growing up with two older brothers, both of whom were incredibly talented hockey players, it felt like a given that one day he'd be skating on the same ice as them. but no one could have prepared him for how surreal it would feel, standing on the threshold of the nhl draft, knowing that his dream was about to become a reality.

it had been a tough season for the michigan wolverines. they had been one of the top teams in college hockey, and everyone expected them to make a deep run in the frozen four. but things didn’t go as planned. michigan had been knocked out by quinnipiac in a brutal 3-2 loss that left luke reeling. it felt like a punch to the gut. the game was over, and the season that had started with so much promise came to a heartbreaking end.

the locker room had been quiet as luke changed out of his gear, still processing the loss. he sat on the bench, his head in his hands, trying to push away the sting of the game. but even as his teammates comforted each other, his mind kept drifting back to y/n. his girlfriend of two years, who had been there for every game, every high and low. the thought of leaving her behind after this loss hit him harder than he expected.

after the game, y/n had texted him a few times, but he hadn’t been able to bring himself to answer. he needed some space to process everything, and he wasn’t sure how to talk to her about it yet. he felt like he had let everyone down, especially her. she had been so supportive of his dreams, and now, here he was, standing on the edge of the next step, but he wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

when he finally saw her later that night, sitting on the bench outside the rink, her usual bright smile was nowhere to be found. y/n was always there, always so supportive, but tonight, she looked tired. maybe it was the loss. maybe it was everything building up.

“hey,” luke said quietly as he sat down next to her.

“hey,” y/n replied, offering him a small smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

they sat there in silence for a moment, watching the cars go by. luke didn’t know what to say. how could he explain everything he was feeling? how could he make her understand that this loss wasn’t just about hockey?

“you okay?” y/n asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

“yeah, just... it sucks,” luke replied, his voice rough. “we had it, you know? we were supposed to win. we had the talent. but we blew it.”

y/n nodded, understanding that the loss was eating at him. but she also knew something else was bothering him. she could see it in his eyes.

“you’re thinking about leaving, aren’t you?” she asked gently.

luke looked at her, his throat tight. “yeah... i have to. i mean, the nhl draft is coming up, and i know i can’t stay here forever. i’ve worked so hard to get here. but... i don’t want to leave you, y/n. i don’t know how to do this.”

y/n reached out and took his hand in hers, squeezing it gently. “i know it’s hard. but i’ve always known this was part of it. you’re going to be amazing, luke. and i’m proud of you. i’ll support you no matter where you go.”

“but... what about us?” luke’s voice cracked slightly as he asked, his chest tight. “i don’t want to leave you behind.”

“we’ll make it work,” y/n said, her tone full of confidence, even if her heart was breaking a little. “we’ve done long-distance before, right? and look, i’m not going anywhere. we’ll figure it out. we always do.”

luke closed his eyes for a moment, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. “i don’t know if i’m ready for this. i thought i was. but now, with the draft coming up, and everything else... it feels like too much.”

“it’s okay to feel unsure,” y/n said softly. “this is a huge change for both of us. i don’t have all the answers, but i know we’ll make it work, luke. we have to trust that.”

he looked at her, his heart full. “i just don’t want to lose you. i don’t want to miss out on what we have.”

“you won’t,” she said firmly. “i’m right here. i’m not going anywhere.”

the words hung in the air between them, a promise, a quiet reassurance that no matter what happened, they were still in this together. but deep down, luke knew things were going to change. he had no choice but to follow his dream. but leaving y/n behind, even for a while, felt like the hardest thing he’d ever done.

────────────────────────────────────────────

the days leading up to the draft were a blur. luke spent most of his time packing up his dorm room, talking with his family, and preparing for what was next. there was excitement, yes, but also a deep sense of sadness. leaving michigan meant leaving behind a place that had become his home. it meant saying goodbye to teammates who had become like brothers. and it meant leaving y/n behind.

the night before the draft, luke sat on his bed, scrolling through his phone, trying to distract himself from the nerves building in his stomach. y/n had sent him a few texts throughout the day, asking how he was doing, but he hadn’t had the energy to respond. he felt torn—he wanted to talk to her, wanted to tell her everything he was feeling, but at the same time, he didn’t know how to explain the whirlwind of emotions in his head.

finally, he called her. the phone rang a few times before she picked up, her voice soft and comforting.

“hey, you,” she said, a smile in her voice. “how are you?”

“i’m... i don’t know,” luke admitted, his voice sounding more vulnerable than he intended. “nervous, i guess. and sad. everything’s changing, y/n. i don’t know if i’m ready for this.”

“i know,” she said, her tone gentle. “but you’re ready, luke. you’ve worked your whole life for this. and yeah, it’s scary. but i believe in you. i always have.”

“but what about us?” luke asked, his voice cracking again. “what if it’s too much? what if we can’t make it work?”

“we will,” y/n said without hesitation. “we’ve got this, luke. i’m not going anywhere. i love you. i believe in you. and i’ll be here, no matter what.”

the words hung between them, and luke felt a sense of peace he hadn’t realized he was craving. in the midst of all the uncertainty, y/n’s words were a constant reminder of what really mattered. they had been through so much together already. this was just the next step.

“i love you, too,” luke said softly, his chest tight with emotion. “and i’ll make this work. i’ll make us work.”

────────────────────────────────────────────

the next day luke was sitting with tom fitzgerald, the devils general manager, and in front of him was his entry-level contract. jack was also in the room and couldn't contain his excitement, his little brother joining his nhl team.

the night was a blur of flashing cameras and interviews, but all he could think about was what would come next. it was time to begin the next chapter, to step into the professional world he had always dreamed of. but it also meant stepping away from the place he had called home for the past few years—and from y/n, the person who had been there for him through it all.

later that night, after the draft had ended and the excitement had settled, luke sat in his hotel room, texting y/n.

“i made it,” he typed. “i’m officially a devil.”

he stared at the screen, waiting for her reply. when it came, it was simple, but it made his heart swell.

“i’m so proud of you, luke. i knew you could do it. and i’ll always be here. no matter where you are, we’ll make this work. i promise.”

he smiled, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. it wasn’t going to be easy, and things were definitely going to change, but they had made it this far. and with y/n’s support, he knew they could handle whatever came next.

it was the beginning of a new chapter. one he was ready to take on.

[hy6erion]

I love your work ! Spend the weekend reading it all !!💕

Was wondering if I can request something cute with mel shutting up R with a kiss when she talks about nerd stuff

𝐀 𝐏𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬

𝐌𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐞𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐚 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

✰⍣..𝐌𝐞𝐥 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬- 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐮𝐧𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐥.

The night unfolds in slow, luxurious strokes, a painting made of candlelight and the scent of warm jasmine oil curling through the still air. The silk-draped walls of Mel’s chambers breathe in gold and shadow, catching the flicker of the flames in a way that makes the space feel suspended—untouched by time, untouched by anything but the quiet hum of the city beyond.

And in the heart of it, there is you.

Your body is half-curled into the velvet embrace of her chaise, bare feet tucked beneath you, the weight of a thick research book resting against your thighs. You are a scholar first, a seeker of knowledge before all else, and tonight is no exception.

Mel watches you from her place beside you, her body a study in practiced ease—one arm draped along the back of the chaise, the other cradling a glass of wine between her fingers. She is not a woman who moves without purpose. Every tilt of her head, every shift of her gaze, is calculated—designed to disarm, to draw in, to conquer without force.

And yet, with you, she only watches. Listens. Waits.

You have yet to notice.

Your thoughts are elsewhere, carried away on the tide of your own endless curiosity. She can see it in the way your fingers twitch against the edge of the page, in the way your lips part—just slightly—before the words come spilling forth.

“Did you know,” you begin, voice quiet, though threaded with that familiar excitement, “that mana resonance in an enclosed system can mimic organic energy cycles? If properly refined, it could—”

She lets you speak.

Because how could she not?

Your voice moves like water, fluid and untamed, slipping through the cracks of everything structured and expected. You are not careful with your words—not in the way she is. You do not weigh them like weapons or measure them like currency. You offer them freely, without hesitation, without fear of scarcity.

And gods, it is mesmerizing.

“—Heimerdinger’s equations suggest a degradation over time, but I think there’s an alternative model he failed to consider—”

Mel shifts, the movement slow, deliberate.

You don’t notice. Not yet.

“—which, if applied correctly, could lead to a near-zero energy loss in transitional states, but the real question is whether—”

She reaches out. Her fingers find your jaw, the touch feather-light, as if tracing the edges of something fragile, something precious.

And at last—finally—your words falter.

The breath between them catches, uncertain, unfinished. Mel smiles.

“You were saying?” she murmurs, her voice honeyed silk, warm and knowing.

You blink, your mind caught between the unraveling of theory and the sudden, grounding presence of her touch.

“I—I was just explaining that—”

Mel tilts your face up, just enough to catch the flickering glow of candlelight in your eyes.

“Yes?”

The syllable is a whisper, a challenge wrapped in something softer.

You swallow. “That the—”

Mel kisses you. It is not rushed. It is not desperate. It is the slow press of warmth against parted lips, the quiet hum of something inevitable unfurling between the space of a breath.

She tastes of wine and something sweeter, something richer—something that lingers even after she pulls back, leaving only the ghost of her touch against your mouth.

Silence drapes itself over the room like silk, thick and heavy, waiting to be disturbed.

Mel watches you with a gaze too knowing, too self-satisfied.

“Much better,” she muses, the curve of her lips betraying the amusement she does not speak.

You inhale sharply, blinking as though trying to recalibrate your thoughts—trying to remember the shape of the sentence you had been building, the argument you had been forming.

It is gone. Utterly, entirely gone.

“You—” The word is breathless, half-formed. You shake your head, as if that might clear it. “You could have just asked me to stop talking.”

Mel hums, low in her throat, her fingers still tracing lazy patterns along your jaw.

“And deny myself the pleasure of watching you unravel?”

Your breath catches.

The way she says it—the way the word curls around her tongue like something intimate, something meant only for the two of you—sends a flush of heat pooling beneath your skin.

Mel’s smile deepens. Ah. So easy. So devastatingly easy.

She shifts closer, not quite touching, but close enough that the warmth of her presence presses against you like a second skin. Close enough that when she speaks again, her words brush against the corner of your mouth.

“I rather like this method.”

Your pulse is a traitor, betraying you in the way it quickens beneath her touch.

The sharp edges of your mind—so precise, so measured—have gone soft, dulled by the haze of something unfamiliar, something intoxicating.

You are a woman of logic. A woman of reason.

And yet, here you are, utterly undone by nothing more than the careful placement of Mel Medarda’s lips against yours.

She sees it. She sees everything.

And gods, she enjoys it. But she is not cruel.

So, she waits.

Waits for you to find your breath again. Waits for you to find the words you are so used to wielding with ease.

You inhale. You exhale.

And then, very quietly, you murmur:

“…Would you do it again?”

Mel’s breath hitches—so softly, so imperceptibly, that you might have imagined it.

But you didn’t.

A slow, deliberate smile unfurls across her lips, golden eyes gleaming with something deeper, something satisfied.

“Darling,” she murmurs, brushing a thumb over the corner of your mouth, “all you ever had to do was ask.”

And this time—when she kisses you—there are no more words between you.

Only the quiet, steady hum of something waiting to be understood.

[xuchiya]

accidentally have 8 pets || ateez || chapter 4

| genre: fluff. slice of life. small tinge of angst. kind of supernatural(?) | mentions: doctors. vets. needles. adoption. a bit cruel. magic starts. abuse to animals. laws. douyin saving the day. TAGLIST: CLOSED

back to masterlist || chapter 5

I stood outside the facility where the husky—Mingi, as the female vet, Minnie, had named him after an idol she adored and Taehyun agreeing that it looks like him—was currently being held. Taehyun had taken charge of my two feline companions for the time being since this facility was on the other side of the city. It was the best of the best, a place that could provide Mingi with the care he needed.

Still, something in my chest felt heavy.

“Are you Taehyun’s girlfriend?” A soft, curious voice pulled me out of my thoughts. Turning, I found a woman standing nearby, a clipboard in one hand and a parrot perched on her left shoulder. She had a gentle smile, her eyes filled with warmth rather than judgment, as if she were simply waiting—patient and understanding.

“Ah—ah, no, ma’am…” I cleared my throat, suddenly aware of how dry it felt. “I’m here for the husky, Mingi. Taehyun spoke to me about his condition.”

She nodded, already seeming to understand. “I see.” Then, offering another kind smile, she gestured for me to follow. “I’m Minnie, by the way. And this little troublemaker here is my right-hand—Mickey.”

At the mention of his name, the bird let out a soft chirp, tilting his head in a way that almost seemed like a greeting. I chuckled lightly despite the nervous energy swirling inside me.

As we stepped inside, the facility came to life around us.

Birds perched inside their cages—doors wide open—fluttered freely around the room, their wings filling the air with soft rustling sounds. Windows and doors remained open, yet not a single bird attempted to leave. Instead, they circled and settled as if they knew this place was home. Dogs ran freely, some playing with each other, others happily interacting with the veterinary staff. The laughter of the doctors and nurses mixed with the barks and chirps, creating a chaotic yet inviting symphony.

It was unlike any clinic I had ever seen. I found myself staring, awestruck, at the controlled chaos around me. The place felt alive, full of warmth.

But then we reached the double doors. Minnie pushed them open, leading me down a quieter hallway. The moment we stepped through, the noises from outside faded, replaced by an eerie silence that made my skin prickle.

The air was different here.

With every step, the heavy quiet pressed down on me, an almost suffocating contrast to the vibrant life we had just left behind. My fingers twitched slightly as unease settled in my chest. The further we walked, the more I could feel it—anxiety rising, a quiet, agonizing weight that made the walls seem narrower than they were.

“We let the animals roam freely during our break so they can stretch,” Minnie explained as we stepped into a quieter section of the facility.

The room was large, similar in design to the open area outside, yet the atmosphere felt different. It wasn’t empty, yet it carried an almost sacred silence. Unlike the lively chaos of the main area, the animals here chose to remain still, quiet—as if bound by something unseen.

“The doors are open here too,” she continued, her voice softer now, “but they choose to stay inside… each for their own reasons.”

We stopped in front of a kennel. At first, it seemed empty. But then my eyes adjusted to the dimmer lighting, and I saw him—curled up at the very back, a trembling mass of gray fur pressed against the corner.

Mingi.

I barely moved, yet the slight shift in my stance must have startled him. He curled in tighter, his whole body shaking—not from cold, but from something deeper.

Fear.

Pain.

Memories that refused to let him go.

Minnie sighed beside me, watching him with quiet sorrow. “Mingi has been isolating himself, which is… concerning,” she admitted. “Dogs like him may go through trauma, but even then, they usually respond in some way. But Mingi…” She hesitated, as if choosing her words carefully. “We keep trying new approaches, but… it’s been difficult. Progress has been slow.”

Something inside me twisted painfully. The sight of him—so small despite his size, so broken despite being alive—made my throat tighten. The weight of his suffering, of everything he must have endured, felt unbearable.

I could feel it in my chest, a familiar ache pressing against my ribs.

Minnie’s voice softened further, a quiet grief lacing her words. “Unlike the other dogs, his trauma runs deeper. His history of being adopted and returned—again and again, treated the same way each time—has worn him down.”

She exhaled slowly, looking at him with a sorrowful gaze.

“When an animal experiences that kind of cycle repeatedly… it doesn’t just hurt them. It breaks something inside them. And for Mingi… I fear that what’s been broken might be hope itself.”

My breath hitched.

Hope.

The very thing that kept creatures like him—like me—going.

And yet, here he was. A living being whose hope had been stripped away, left in an endless loop of disappointment and abandonment. I swallowed hard, my hands clenching at my sides as I took a small step forward, my heart silently reaching out to him.

Mingi flinched. But he didn’t run.

Tears welled at the corners of my eyes as I lowered myself to Mingi’s level, squatting just outside his kennel. My lips wobbled, my fingers tightening around the cold metal bars—only to feel them shift slightly beneath my touch.

The lock was open. I glanced at Minnie, who gave me a small nod of encouragement. “Go ahead,” she urged gently. “Talk to him.”

A shaky breath escaped me as I reached for the latch, my hands trembling slightly. The door creaked softly as it swung open, “Mingi…” My voice was barely above a whisper, raw with emotion. “Hey, baby…”

Nothing. No flicker of recognition. No shift in his breathing. Just the steady rise and fall of his frail body, as if even acknowledging my presence took too much effort. I swallowed hard and glanced at Minnie again. Her eyes held a quiet urgency—hope, even. She wanted me to keep trying, “Hey, baby,” I tried again, my tone softer, gentler. “You’re okay. You’re safe now.”

Still, nothing.

The weight of his silence pressed down on my chest, but I refused to give up. I knew this kind of pain—the kind that made you retreat so far inside yourself that even kindness felt unreachable. But Mingi wasn’t alone. Not anymore.

I steadied my breath and leaned in just a little closer.

“Would you like to meet my two cats?” No reaction. Not a single twitch of his ears, not even the subtlest shift in his eyes. But I wasn’t leaving. Unlike us, animals don’t know how to process their pain. They don’t understand why they’ve been abandoned, why love was given and then taken away.

They only feel the loss. And if Mingi had no way of fighting through his darkness…

Then I’d fight for him.

“Wooyoung is my first cat,” I began softly. “He was alone, too. He’s scared of the dark and absolutely hates it when I sing.” Mingi’s trembling didn’t stop, but there was the smallest pause in his breathing—just for a second. It was barely noticeable, but I caught it.

Encouraged, I continued, “Hongjoong is my second cat. I found him when he had nowhere to go. He loves dressing me up and gets so annoyed when I wear mismatched socks.” A small chuckle escaped me at the thought, though my gaze remained steady on Mingi.

“Do you know what I love about the two of them?” My voice wavered, but I pushed forward, feeling the weight of my own words settle deep in my chest. “They gave themselves a second chance. Even when everything felt too dark, they never stopped trying to find the light at the end of the tunnel.”

I inhaled slowly, “You’re almost there, Mingi,” I whispered. “It’s never too late to take a step forward.” Silence. And then, for the first time since I arrived, Mingi lifted his head.

My breath hitched as he adjusted his posture, his frail body shifting beneath the weight of his own hesitation. He was thin—far too thin—and his once-lustrous fur was dull and rough. But his eyes… they held something now. Something fragile, but present.

A spark. I smiled, warmth filling the cracks of my aching heart, “Hey, Mingi,” I murmured, voice light with hope. “Do you want some biscuits?”

It took minutes—agonizingly slow minutes—but then, with a shaky inhale, Mingi moved. Wobbly, unsteady, each step uncertain.

And then—he collapsed onto my lap.

My breath hitched, eyes wide in disbelief. A single tear slipped down my cheek, but a soft, airy chuckle escaped me. My hand moved on its own, fingers threading gently through his rough fur, offering the comfort he had long been deprived of, “That’s a good boy, Mingi,” I whispered, my voice barely holding steady.

A quiet, choked sound came from beside me, “… Wow.” I had almost forgotten about the nurse. When I glanced up, she was sitting on the floor, her eyes red-rimmed, her expression somewhere between awe and overwhelming relief.

I let out a breathy chuckle. “I—I’m sorry for that.”

She shook her head, an emotional smile gracing her lips. “No, don’t be. We never lost hope for Mingi, but we knew it would take something—someone—to bring him back.” She exhaled softly, watching the husky nestled against me. “And we’re so grateful that it was you.”

My heart swelled, the weight of the moment settling deep in my chest. I looked down at Mingi, unsure if he had drifted into sleep or if he was simply seeking warmth—seeking comfort. Either way, it didn’t matter. Because for the first time in a long time, neither of us felt alone.

Mingi stayed on my lap for a while, his body still trembling, but less from fear and more from exhaustion. When I gently urged him toward his food bowl, he whimpered softly, hesitant. I didn’t push. Instead, I let him move at his own pace, watching as he sniffed at the food before taking cautious, slow bites.

Bit by bit, he ate. I stayed perfectly still, afraid that even the smallest movement might startle him.

And then—he finished. A wide grin spread across my face as I waited, giving him space to come to me. “That’s my good boy, Mingi! You cleaned your whole bowl!”

What moved me most wasn’t just that he had eaten but the way his tail twitched ever so slightly, his ears lowering at my praise. A small, hesitant reaction—one that spoke volumes, “You deserve a biscuit for being such a good pup for me,” I murmured, reaching for a treat.

The moment I extended my hand, he shrank back, uncertainty flickering in his tired eyes. My heart clenched, but I stayed patient, holding the biscuit steady. Mingi hesitated.Then, little by little, he inched forward, nostrils flaring as he took in the scent—not just of the biscuit but of me.

And then, instead of taking the treat—He licked my fingers. I inhaled sharply, eyes widening as he nudged his snout against my hand, a silent request for something far greater than food.

Trust.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I set the biscuit aside and slowly turned my palm up, letting him sniff, letting him decide. Letting him choose. The moment Mingi nudged his head under my hand, guiding it to rest atop his head, my breath hitched.

“Oh…” I whispered, eyes widening in surprise.

Gingerly, I ran my fingers through his coarse fur, giving him a soft, reassuring pet. His response was immediate—he settled, his body sinking into a more relaxed posture before placing his head in my lap.

A quiet sigh escaped my lips, the weight of the moment settling deep in my chest, “You deserve all the love, baby,” I murmured, my fingers tracing soothing circles against his fur. “You may not understand my words, but I want you to know—you are strong, and I am so proud of you.”

For a long while, I simply sat there, letting the silence wrap around us like a warm embrace. There was no doubt in my heart—this husky wouldn’t have to wait for a new home in a few months. Because I was already here. And I would love him just as fiercely as my two felines would.

“Adopt him. Now.” I barely had time to greet Douyin before he blurted out his demand. His urgency made me chuckle as I glanced down at the adoption papers laid out before me.

“I already am,” I replied, signing my name before stamping it with my personal seal. Mingi sat patiently to the side, his neck still bare—no collar, as the wounds around it were still healing. But he didn’t need one. He was disciplined, and more than that, he was safe now.

After thanking Minnie—the vet Taehyun had spoken so highly of—I stepped outside, Mingi trailing close behind.

“No need to tell me twice, Do. He’s coming home tonight.”

A triumphant cheer rang from the other end of the call, making me laugh. I glanced down at Mingi, who stayed glued to my side as we maneuvered through the bustling sidewalk. His ears flicked at every passing step, his body tense with unease. Without a second thought, I placed a steadying hand on his head, gently reassuring him.

Unlocking the car, I opened the back door and gestured for him to hop in. But instead of climbing inside, Mingi hesitated, his whimper barely audible over the city noise. He shuffled behind me, pressing his body close.

I sighed, a small smile tugging at my lips, “Looks like I’ll need a little help getting him home tonight.”

“He won’t jump in your car?” I hummed in response, watching Mingi carefully. I remained patient, giving him time to adjust. Slowly, he leaned forward, sniffing the seat before—much to my surprise—climbing in on his own. He settled onto the backseat, sitting stiffly but without hesitation.

My mouth hung open. “Well… he climbed in.”

“Either he really trusts you, or it’s that tattoo on your wrist.” Confused, I glanced down—and immediately yelped in shock. An hourglass-like symbol, eerily similar to a loading icon from a computer screen, was now etched onto my skin.

“You gotta see this…” I murmured, my pulse quickening, “Noona… are you cursed?”

I stuttered. “Heh?”

“I mean… Look, I was looking for that in the library the other day, flipping through books on weird ancient symbols that might match whatever’s on your wrist—”

“Wait, wait—Why are you even looking this up? Aren’t you supposed to be in school? Hold on…” I shifted onto one hip, pursing my lips as realization hit me, remembering something big to me. “Prosecutor, huh? When were you gonna tell me that YOU were a PROSECUTOR this whole time? School? Were you in class or in a court trial? Because right now, I’m confused and offended—”

A static and panic sound can be heard at the other side of the phone, “Noona, please calm down! I’ll explain everything when you get home. But seriously, Wooyoung and Hongjoong won’t stop meowing at the door! We’re gonna get noise complaints if you don’t hurry up!” I sighed, running a hand through my hair. 

“Fine, fine. I’m on my way.” Glancing at Mingi, who was curled up on the seat, his body finally at ease, I felt a strange sense of comfort. Whatever was happening, whatever this weird symbol meant, I had a feeling this was only the beginning.

And somehow, I was okay with that. 

What troubled me the most wasn’t just Mingi’s hesitation—it was the way he whimpered and cowered backward as we neared my apartment door—  At first, I didn’t understand. It only truly hit me when we reached my floor, and he outright refused to move— just across mine is the man’s old apartment. Apparently, he got evicted because he didn't pay rent for almost 3 months now. Additionally to his problems, he was sentenced to jail for 6 months to 2 years.

I sigh softly as I look at Mingi. His ears flattened, tail tucked between his legs, body sinking lower to the floor like he wanted to disappear. I sighed, pulling out my phone. “Douyin, I need you to open the door please.”

Within seconds, Douyin was already standing in the doorway, his expression shifting from confusion to realization as he took in the scene. Wooyoung and Hongjoong sat beside him, tails swishing curiously as they watched the whole thing unfold.

Mingi let out a low whimper and lay down on his stomach, pressing himself against the cold floor. My heart clenched, “It reminds him too much of that bastard’s room…” Douyin muttered darkly.

I shot him a look, silently warning him to watch his language, before sighing sharply. “We won’t be able to convince him with treats or anything.” Douyin nodded in agreement, but then something in his expression shifted, like a lightbulb flicking on in his head. Without another word, he rushed inside.

I frowned. “Douyin?”

He returned moments later, gripping a blanket in his hands.

“Noona, I’ll cover this part and try to urge him inside.” With that, he extended the blanket like a makeshift curtain, shielding the door and half of the hallway, leaving only the warm, inviting light of our apartment visible. 

I crouched down beside Mingi, running a soothing hand over his head. “See, baby? It’s safe.” His nose twitched as he cautiously lifted his head, eyes flickering between the dimly lit corridor and the bright, open space beyond the blanket. This was going to take patience, but if it meant helping Mingi take that first step toward healing, then I was willing to wait as long as it took.

I smiled softly, my gaze dropping to Mingi. To my surprise, Wooyoung and Hongjoong were already nudging their heads against him, their small bodies weaving around his legs like gentle whispers of reassurance.

My heart swelled. “Come on, baby, it’s okay.” Little by little, the two felines swerved beneath him, encouraging him to move forward. Mingi hesitated, his large paws pressing into the floor as if the weight of his fears held him back, but with their guidance—and my quiet support—he finally took those steps inside.

The moment we crossed the threshold, Douyin stepped in behind us, immediately draping the blanket over my head before scurrying past me toward Mingi, “Finally! A dog!” he declared, pure excitement in his voice.

I chuckled, shaking my head as I pulled the blanket off and neatly folded it before placing it on the sofa. I barely had time to settle before two familiar heads nudged at my hands, “Hello~” I cooed, scratching under their chins. “Have you guys been naughty to Douyin while I was gone?”

The only response was a pair of playful meows before the two perched themselves on the back of the sofa, their tails flicking lazily. Mingi padded toward me, his eyes holding a quiet trust that made my chest ache. Without hesitation, he lowered his head onto my lap, exhaling softly. I ran my fingers through his fur, smoothing down the rough patches. “Hey, baby, are you hungry?”

Before he could respond in his own way, Douyin flopped down onto the floor beside Mingi, his face twisting into a pout. “Aww, why does he like you more?”

I let out a small sigh, already recognizing the problem. Meeting Douyin’s gaze, I spoke gently but firmly. “It’s because men are what he’s still traumatized about. He’s also not used to having a woman around him—much less one who actually cares for him. Just bear with him, Do.”

Douyin’s expression shifted from playful annoyance to quiet understanding. He nodded, his gaze softening as he observed Mingi. “He must’ve been through hell if even being near a guy is enough to scare him…”

I hummed in agreement, my fingers never stopping their soothing motions over Mingi’s head. “Yeah… but we’ll take it one step at a time.” And in that moment, I promised myself—I would make sure Mingi never had to be afraid again.

Week after week, month after month, Mingi slowly healed—not just physically, but in ways I never imagined. The once fragile husky, hesitant and wary of the world, had transformed into a vibrant soul who embraced the warmth of his new life. His fur, once dull and rough from neglect, now gleamed under the soft glow of our apartment lights, silky and smooth beneath my fingers. The wound around his neck, the painful reminder of his past, had finally closed, leaving behind only faint scars that told a story of survival.

Yet, what Douyin and I hadn’t expected was just how lively Mingi truly was beneath all that past hurt. He was a ball of endless energy, a jolly pup with a heart far bigger than his body could contain. His playful antics outshined even Wooyoung’s, and that was saying something.

I adored the way he would bounce on his paws whenever I stepped through the door after my shift at the café, his excitement practically vibrating off the walls. Sometimes, he would pretend to be a mighty hunter, crouching low before pouncing on my feet like a mischievous pup, tail wagging furiously. Meanwhile, Douyin—drenched from head to toe, thanks to Mingi’s overenthusiastic greeting—could only sigh in defeat.

It amazed me how much he had grown to love Douyin’s presence, something I once thought impossible. Even Taehyun, who frequently stopped by for check-ups since we still have a hard time having Mingi outside our apartment, had earned a spot in Mingi’s heart.

Today was no different. As Taehyun sat comfortably on the couch, he held out a flyer, an amused chuckle escaping his lips. I tilted my head in curiosity, and beside me, Mingi mimicked the action, his ears perked up in confusion.

“A training ground?” I echoed, reaching for the paper.

Taehyun nodded, the corner of his lips twitching at the sight of both me and Mingi reacting the same way. “Yeah, just a few streets down. It’s an open program for all dogs, no matter their background.” My eyes skimmed over the details, noting the program’s emphasis on not just physical training but emotional and mental strengthening.

“This could really help Mingi,” Taehyun continued, his voice gentle but firm. “It’ll build his confidence and independence. You’ve done an amazing job helping him heal, but you don’t want him to become overly dependent on you. Unlike the two felines, he needs to develop trust in himself too.”

I looked up from the flyer, my gaze settling on Mingi, who was already watching me with those soulful eyes, his tongue slightly hanging out. He didn’t understand the conversation, but the trust he had in me was unwavering.

My lips curled into a soft smile. “Okay,” I murmured, giving his head a reassuring pat. “We’ll be there.” And as Mingi leaned into my touch, tail thumping against the floor, I knew this was the next step—not just for him, but for both of us.

If my stunned expression was anything to go by, I could only imagine what Mingi’s face looked like. And oh, how I wished I had my phone ready to record it.

Our gazes were locked onto the chaos in front of us—the training ground was alive with dogs zipping through obstacle courses like lightning bolts. Some leaped effortlessly over towering hoops, others raced up and down ramps with thrilling speed, and a few even rang the towering bells perched high on the boards—so high that even a human would struggle to reach. And yet, here were these dogs, defying limits and expectations.

Mingi, on the other hand, stood frozen beside me, his mouth slightly agape, his ears flicking in bewilderment. If a dog could have a "shocked beyond belief" expression, he was wearing it perfectly.

Clearing my throat, I turned to Taehyun, trying to ignore my own second hand nerves. “Uh… is there something we should know first before we start?”

Taehyun nodded, his professional demeanor slipping back into place as he strode toward one of the trainers. He returned moments later with a sleek, muscular Doberman at his side. The moment Mingi caught sight of the intimidating dog, he immediately cowered, ears flattening as he instinctively backed up against my legs.

Taehyun glanced at me apologetically, a small crease forming between his brows. “As much as I want to stay and guide you two, I’ve got a surgery back at the clinic that I can’t delay.”

I offered him a small, reassuring smile, gently patting his arm. “It’s okay, don’t be late, Doc.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You and your nicknames.” Still, he gave me a brief, warm hug before turning to the trainer and giving him a formal goodbye. “I’ll leave them in your hands, Bangchan.”

With that, he waved one last time before disappearing through the exit.

I turned back to the trainer, who had an easygoing smile on his lips as he extended his hand.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Chris, but just call me Bangchan. And here is my buddy, Yeo.” He gestured to the Doberman, who, as if understanding he was being introduced, lifted his head slightly in acknowledgment.

Mingi, however, nearly jumped out of his skin at the simple movement. Despite him being close with Douyin but with other people— most especially strangers who are men—- were still not in his cup of tea.

Bangchan noticed immediately, his sharp eyes softening with understanding. Without hesitation, he crouched down to Mingi’s level, making himself less intimidating as he kept his movements slow and non-threatening. Mingi’s paws shifted nervously against the dirt, his tail tucked tightly between his legs.

“It’s okay, bud,” Bangchan spoke in a gentle, reassuring tone, his eyes kind. “No one’s gonna hurt you here.” I swallowed, watching the small yet significant moment unfold. This was going to be a big step for Mingi. But as I knelt beside him, stroking his fur in quiet encouragement, “You’re okay, baby.”

"Hey there, bud, it’s okay." Bangchan’s voice was soft, reassuring. He gestured toward the Doberman beside him. "Yeo’s a gentle pup, just like you. You two are probably around the same dog age."

From his pocket, Bangchan retrieved a small treat and extended it toward Mingi. At first, my husky hesitated, his ears twitching as he eyed the offering with suspicion. But then his nose twitched, drawn to the scent, and with careful movements, he took the treat from Bangchan’s palm before immediately retreating behind me, seeking the comfort of my presence.

I smiled at his cautious but brave attempt, my heart swelling with pride.

Bangchan straightened, watching Mingi thoughtfully. “From the looks of it, we’ll start him off with light playground training for now. It’ll help him adjust to the environment and build self-awareness before we work on his confidence. We don’t want to overwhelm him just yet.”

I nodded, glancing at Yeo, the imposing yet graceful Doberman standing by Bangchan’s side. His sleek, dark coat gleamed under the overhead lights, his posture poised and strong. But what caught my attention was the subtle twitch of his nose as he turned his head toward me.

I stilled as Yeo stepped forward, closing the space between us with measured, deliberate movements.

Then, to my surprise, he nudged my wrist—right where my tattoo was.

I instinctively let him sniff my palm, my fingers barely moving as they hovered over his head. Something about the moment made my pulse slow, as if time had briefly paused. And then, as if following some unseen instinct, I let my hand gently settle on his head.

A strange sensation traveled up my arm—not excitement, not fear, but something else. Something deeper. A connection. Yeo's posture shifted, his frame relaxing in a way that felt... familiar. As though he had found something he wasn’t expecting—something even more comforting than the treats Bangchan had in his pocket.

My eyes traced over his features, taking in the rich brown of his gaze and the sharp lines of his face. It was then that I noticed the red patch near his left eye. I frowned slightly, curiosity bubbling inside me. I ran my fingers through his silk-like fur, my mind swirling with questions, but before I could speak, Yeo pressed his head closer into my touch.

And that was when a low, warning growl rumbled from behind me.

I turned to see Mingi, his posture still somewhat timid, but his stance firm, his tail raised slightly in agitation. His body language was clear—he wasn’t a fan of whatever was happening between me and Yeo, “Hey hey baby, it’s okay.”

Yeo moved back towards his trainer, Bangchan let out a quiet hum, his expression unreadable, "That’s... surprising."

I blinked, looking up at him. "What do you mean?" He stroked Yeo’s snout gently before giving the Doberman’s nose a small, affectionate bop. Yeo barely reacted, still staring at me with that same quiet intensity.

"Yeo rarely interacts with people," Bangchan finally said, nodding for me to follow him as he led us toward another section of the training grounds. I walked beside him, Mingi staying close to my side. Bangchan continued, his voice calm but laced with something heavier—something sorrowful.

"After he was intentionally left behind in a burning house by his owner, he stopped trusting people. He won’t go near kitchens or anywhere with fire. No matter how much I tried, he never let anyone get this close to him."

My steps faltered slightly as the weight of his words sank in. Yeo had suffered. And yet, here he was, standing next to me—choosing to trust me. I looked down at him again, and for the first time, I truly saw him. Not as just another well-trained dog, not as a mere companion to Bangchan, but as something more.

A survivor.

My mouth fell open as I stared at the Doberman in front of me. Yeo, the dog who supposedly never trusted humans, was standing by my side as if he had known me all his life. Mingi, after his brief display of irritation, softened. His ears twitched, and after a moment of hesitation, he leaned his head slightly toward Yeo as we walked. A silent gesture of empathy.

A small, proud smile tugged at my lips as I ran my fingers through Mingi’s soft fur, feeling the warmth of his unspoken understanding. When we finally reached the facility, I was taken aback.

It wasn’t just a training center—it was a playground. Bright, lively, and filled with various obstacles meant for agility and confidence training. I glanced at Mingi, noting how his ears perked up with curiosity. His tail waved excitedly from side to side, his previous nervousness replaced by pure enthusiasm.

I chuckled and crouched down beside him. “Do you wanna play, baby?”

It was like talking to a child, and the way Mingi’s eyes sparkled with joy was answer enough. The moment Bangchan gave the go-ahead, Mingi bolted toward the playground, zooming through the space like he had just been given a second wind.

Bangchan crossed his arms, watching the energetic husky with amusement. “Well… looks like he loves indoor games.” I hummed in agreement, my gaze following Mingi as he bounded around with boundless energy.

But a small worry gnawed at me. “Will he be able to overcome them?” I murmured, more to myself than anyone else. Bangchan, however, responded without hesitation. “Of course, he will. You just have to believe in yourself and in Mingi. Your connection with him is what strengthens his soul.”

I turned to him, slightly intrigued by the certainty in his voice. “You sound like someone who’s experienced this before.” He chuckled, patting Yeo’s side before the Doberman suddenly ran off to join Mingi. The two dogs hesitated only for a second before naturally falling into a playful rhythm—chasing, teasing, and testing each other’s speed.

Bangchan watched them fondly before shifting his attention back to me, “Believe it or not, I’ve been having the strangest experiences with animals lately.”

That piqued my curiosity. I leaned in slightly, sensing there was more to his words. Noticing my intrigue, he smirked and leaned closer as well, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret, “It started with a tuxedo cat. And trust me, I was never a cat person. But the moment I took care of that little guy, something just… clicked. Like, even though I had no idea what I was doing, it didn’t matter. I loved that cat anyway.”

I hummed, noticing a pattern, “And then,” he continued, his eyes flickering with amusement, “I met this fox.”

I blinked. “A fox?”

Bangchan nodded. “Don’t get me wrong—my family owns a cabin near the mountains, so I knew I’d run into wildlife sooner or later. But I wasn’t expecting to actually take care of one.” His words settled in my mind, stirring something deep inside me. Because lately… I had been experiencing something eerily similar.

I bit my lip, nerves twisting in my stomach as I debated whether to open up. But if Bangchan had experienced something similar, maybe talking about it would help me make sense of this strange situation.

With a small breath, I adjusted my wristwatch and held out my arm, revealing the tattoo on my wrist. Bangchan’s eyes lit up the moment he saw it. “That’s an amazing tattoo. Is it finished?”

I shook my head. “Believe it or not, I never planned on getting a tattoo. But this… it just appeared when I first adopted Mingi—or maybe even before that.” His eyebrows shot up, his entire posture shifting as he turned to face me completely. Resting his arms on the railing, he studied me carefully. “Wait, hold on. It just appeared?”

I nodded, lowering my gaze. “I know it sounds weird, but that’s the only way I can explain it. And honestly… I’ve been struggling to accept this whole situation.” Bangchan was quiet for a moment, lost in thought. Then, with a sharp exhale, he reached up and undid two buttons of his shirt.

My eyes widened, and I quickly looked away. Bangchan chuckled, clearing his throat to get my attention back. “Relax, I’m not stripping,” he teased.

Slowly, I turned back to him—only for my breath to hitch when I saw what he was showing me. On his back, slightly obscured by his shirt, was an incomplete flower, its petals frozen mid-bloom.

Without thinking, my fingers reached out, tracing the delicate lines. The sensation sent a strange tingle up my arm, the same one I’d felt when Yeo first nudged my tattoo.

Bangchan let me observe it for a moment before he pulled his shirt back on. “I almost gave my parents a heart attack when this showed up during my sister’s pool party,” he admitted with a chuckle. “But yeah, it started when I found this baby chick near my home.”

Something clicked in my mind. He said this was his third animal. Just like me.

I swallowed, my voice barely above a whisper. “Do you think…?”

Bangchan met my gaze, and the look in his eyes told me we were thinking the exact same thing.

This was more than just coincidence.The tattoos, the animals—everything felt like part of something bigger. As we turned our attention back to the two pups playing together, something deep inside me stirred. Maybe these encounters weren’t just random.

Maybe they were meant to happen. Maybe… this was a quest. Not just to find them—but because they were destined to find me.

MEET THE (HOT) FRIENDLY DOG TRAINER:

TAGLIST: @soso59love-blog . @yoongisgirl69 . @forever-atiny . @ateezswonderland . @fr34k4c1dr41n . @breadedloafs . @k1xiara . @nkryuki . @beabatiny . @berryguks . @miniverse-zen . @fight-me-uwu . @xh01bri . @eclipwze . @blue-angel24 . @nkryuki . @matchahintonagar . @asyamonet22 . @szakias . @sanaegi . @notyaelly . @wolviejex . @bby-boo4u

[urno1luv]

someone requested for this but i deleted the draft bc it was sooo bad😭anon this is for you🫰

popular girl nayeon x jock fem reader

summary: nayeon denies her feelings for you, but has feelings of jealousy after seeing a bunch of girls swarming over you over the team's latest victory. this leads to her cornering you in your locker room and making you hers🙂‍↕️

cw: smut, kinda dubcon? at first, biting, nayeon kinda talking to herself during the sex scene (this is what good pussy does to you😔)

You always thought Nayeon hated you. Every time your name came up, she'd scoff — flipping her hair and muttering something about "dumb jocks" under her breath. She barely even looked at you unless she was rolling her eyes...

But that didn't explain why she always showed up to your games.

Or why her sharp brown eyes never left you the whole match — following every movement, every flex of muscle under your jersey, every time you bit your lip and ducked your head when the crowd cheered for you.

Tonight's victory feels good — but not as good as the way everyone swarms around you after. You're still flushed from the game, head ducked low as girls crowd close — giggling, touching your arms, calling you so cool, so hot, the best player.

You don't know how to handle the attention — just smiling shyly, mumbling soft thank yous under your breath — trying not to let anyone notice how red your ears are.

But what you don't see is Nayeon watching from across the bleachers — the way her jaw clenches, fingers tightening around her drink until the plastic cup threatens to split in half😬

When you slip away to the empty locker room, you're grateful for the quiet — tugging off your jersey, trying to cool down. But the second the door slams shut behind you, you know you're not alone..

Nayeon’s perfume fills the locker room — sweet and expensive — wrapping around you before you even see her. You freeze when the door slams shut behind her.

The click of her heels echoes through the empty space — slow, deliberate — until she’s standing close enough that you can feel the heat of her body at your back.

"You really like having all those girls on you, huh?" Her voice is low, mocking — but there's something sharp underneath it. "N-No... I didn't—"

"You didn't stop them, either." Her fingers trail down your bare arm — light, teasing — making you shiver. You let them flirt with you... let them put their hands all over you..." Her fingers grip your chin — tilting your head back so you're forced to meet her eyes.

"But the whole time, you were waiting for me to come and put you in your place." Her other hand slips down — nails scratching lightly over your bare stomach — before dipping under the waistband of your shorts. Her fingers dip lower — pressing exactly where you need her — making you choke on a soft little moan.

The lockers dig into your back as she works you open — two fingers sliding deep, curling just right — like she already knows your body better than you do.

Every whimper, every little twitch just makes her smirk harder — leaning in to press hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, before biting down on your pulse point, making you gasp.

You're already close — hips grinding against her fingers, breath hitching with every slow drag — but she stops just before you can fall apart. Her hand tightens around your throat, pinning you in place.

"Say you're mine." Your head spins — tears pricking at the corners of your eyes — but you don't even hesitate.

"I'm yours…"

Nayeon yanks her fingers out of you, leaving you trembling against the lockers — breath shallow, thighs clenching around nothing.

You barely have time to whimper before she's grabbing your wrist, pulling you over to the cold wooden bench in the middle of the room. "Sit."

Her voice is sharp, leaving no room for arguing — not that you'd ever dream of disobeying her.

Your legs feel like jelly as you sink onto her lap, thighs straddling hers, knees pressing into the hard wood on either side.

Her hands slide down your hips — nails digging in just enough to make you shiver. "You wanna act all shy and sweet out there…" she murmurs, leaning in close — breath hot against your ear. "But you're such a needy little thing when you're alone, aren't you?"

You bite your lip, cheeks burning — but she doesn't let you hide. Her fingers tilt your chin up — forcing you to look her in the eyes.

"Don't get all shy on me now, baby." She shifts underneath you — pressing her thigh between your legs — and you gasp at the pressure, hips jerking before you can stop yourself.

"Oh… there she is." Her smirk is pure sin — dark and lazy — as she grips your hips harder, guiding you into a slow grind against her thigh.

"That's it…" Her lips brush against your jaw, soft and teasing. "You're gonna make such a mess on me, baby."

She makes you work for it — keeping her hands tight on your waist, forcing you to grind slow and steady until you're soaking through your shorts, leaving a wet patch on her jeans. "Look at you," she coos, one hand sliding up to wrap lightly around your throat.

"So desperate… just like I knew you'd be."

[dalsrealities]

⌞𝓜ORE 𝓜ETHODS⟢𝓕OR 𝓥OID 𝓢TATE⌝

so, some people asked for the other methods for the void state. i'm gonna try to explain them as detailed as i can.

𓇼 First method:

⤷Lullaby method.

This one is actually super easy, the easiest i would say. you just gotta lay down, as if you were going to sleep. for this method you do have to be a bit sleepy to do it since you'll doing as you drift off to sleep.

once you laid down, relax, close your eyes, you can say some affirmations if you want in the meanwhile of getting sleepy. when you feel your eyelids starting to close, start affirming to enter the void state. "i am", "i am the void state", "i already am in the void state", etc. (i posted more affirmations in my post about the void state)

you're going to feel yourself fall asleep, but your mind is somehow still awake. and when you feel nothing, no touch, no smell, noise, just nothing, you'll now you're there.

𓇼 Second method:

⤷Commanding your subconscious.

This method, at least for me is not as easy as entering the void with no method or doing the Lullaby one. But, i still decided to share it in case someone does like it. I'm going to separate this method in 2 parts.

𝙸. What is to command your subconscious?

Commanding you subconscious is talking to it directly and trusting that it will manifest your desires for you. that's literally just it. your subconscious knows every single thing you want. whenever you desire something or just think of "having" it, your subconscious immediately starts working to give it to you.

now, you might think "but, Dal, if that actually happened, wouldn't i have everything i've ever desired?" uhm, no. first of all, you may think that just by saying something like "oh, i really want this necklace" (or something), that's a manifestation and your subconscious will start working on it. but that's not how it works.

you have to trust and have faith on your subconscious, you have to give it a little talk about what you want to manifest. and if it doesn't work, that's because you applied methods to manifest, but then overthought it and let your intrusive/impulsive thoughts get in the way, and you didn't trust your subconscious at all.

𝙸𝙸. how do we actually do it?

like i mentioned before, it's just talking to it directly. you can do it anytime, aloud or silently. for example; "hey subconscious, i wanna induce to the void state tonight, i know you'll get me there", "hey subconscious, i'm gonna pass my test tomorrow, i know you'll manifest that for me, yeah?". you can do it however you want, talk to it however you want. like it's your friend, just normal, or whatever you like.

once you've commanded what you wanted, all you need to do is have faith and trust your subconscious. but after expressing your desires, don't be insecure, for example; "what am i doing?", "will this even work?" i mean, it definitely won't work if that's how you think...

when you're insecure you're just showing your mind you don't trust on it, so why would it then do the things you've commanded? don't overthink things, let go of all those thoughts. sometimes it is difficult, it happened to me. i had like this annoying chihuahua barking in my ear that it wouldn't work, that what would i do then if it didn't work. just ignore it, as hard as it is at first, just do it.

𓇼 Third method:

⤷Sleep paralysis.

There are lots of ways to induce to a sleep paralysis, and jesus i hate sleep paralysis but someone asked for it so i'll do it for her 💪.

i feel like sleep paralysys and the void are pretty much the same but still different but anyways. i'll explain how to induce to a sleep paralysys.

the easiest way to do this is WBTB. i found this in a reddit post and what surprised me was that it had been posted 10 YEARS ago. like, i didn't know we had been doing this even before 2020.

anyways, how do we do WBTB? what even is it?

WBTB stands for wake back to bed. it basically is going to sleep, setting an alarm to wake up 5-6 hours later, doing something for 20-30 minutes and going back to sleep. this increases lucid dreaming and, sleep paralysis. some posts about WBTB; 1 and 2.

once you've gotten into a sleep paralysis, you can induce to the void state by affirming or whatever you prefer to do.

honestly, at least for me, sleep paralysis feel or are the same as the void, the only difference is that in the sleep paralysis you can open your eyes (i think). but the ways of getting/inducing to them are pretty much similar if not the same.

those are the methods that were mentioned in the void state post, i hope it was helpful!!! so yeah, if you have more questions, you can ask with the little botton to ask things.

(for @urprettyangel888 and @badgalriri-axe)

[chosaraki]

"Why are there so many people in the world?"

————————————

Daniel, Gun, Jake, Gitae, James x R.femele

——————————————————————

You be called : y/n

—————————————————————————

Y/N is a woman with an explosive temperament, zero patience for inconvenient people and a brutal honesty. Her trademark phrase, "Why are there so many people in the world?", reflects her constant frustration with the excess of people around her.

—————————————————————————

Daniel Park :

Daniel parked the car and sighed, looking at Y/N, who was with his arms crossed and a deadly look on his face. He knew something was bothering her.

"Is everything okay?" He asked, trying to break the silence.

Y/N snorted, tapping his feet impatiently. "Why are there so many people in the world, Daniel? Like, seriously! Can't there be only half a dozen people and that's it? Life would be so much easier."

He let out a low laugh. "You say that every time someone annoys you."

"Yes, because there's always someone annoying me!" She grumbled.

Before Daniel could answer, a car next to them lowered the window and an unknown guy smiled smugly. "Hey, princess, your boyfriend doesn't seem to be cheering you up. How about coming with us?"

Y/N turned his head slowly, his eyes shining with a mixture of irritation and fun.

"Do you REALLY want to do this, friend?"

The guy laughed. "You look tough. I bet it's just pose."

Before Daniel could intervene, Y/N took the guy's head by the hair and BANG—hit with everything against the window of his own car. The glass trembled with the impact, and the guy let out a moan of pain.

"Now get out of my way before I really break your face," she warned.

Daniel covered his mouth with his hand so as not to laugh. "You really don't have patience, do you?"

She leaned back on the bench, still with her face closed. "Why are there so many people in the world, Daniel? Explain it to me!"

————————————————

Gun Park :

Gun was standing still, arms crossed, while watching Y/N complain about the excess of people around.

"Look at this, Gun. Why are there so many people in the world? This here looks like a zoo without cages."

He let out a low "hm", finding it funny in her irritation.

It was then that a random man approached, clearly unaware of the danger. "Hey, babe. You seem a little angry. Do you want me to calm you down?"

Gun already knew what was going to happen even before Y/N reacted.

Without hesitation, she grabbed the guy's head and—PÁ!—hit with everything against the glass of a nearby car. The noise of the impact made some people turn around, while the idiot collapsed on the ground, moaning.

Gun sighed and looked at her. "Do you need to be so aggressive?"

Y/N threw his hair back. "Do you think I would let a trash like that breathe near me?"

Gun smiled slightly. "Good answer."

——————————————————

Jake Kim:

Jake and Y/N were walking the streets of Gangbuk when a group of random guys began to face Y/N suspiciously.

Jake already knew how this would end.

"Hey, princess," one of the idiots called. "Do you want to go for a walk with us?"

Y/N stopped at the same moment and turned to them.

"Did you just call me princess?"

The guy smiled. "Are you offended, cutie?"

Jake was already about to take a step forward, but Y/N was faster. She grabbed the guy by the collar, pulled him towards her and—PÁ!—hit his head against a nearby pole.

The guy's friends retreated, shocked.

"Does anyone else want to try?" She asked.

Jake crossed his arms, a proud smile on his face. "I didn't even need to do anything."

She looked at him, still in a bad mood. "Why are there so many people in the world, Jake? Answer me!"

————————————————

Gitae Kim :

Gitae was finishing moving her motorcycle when she heard Y/N snort on the other side of the garage.

"Why are there so many people in the world? My God, this is hell!"

He laughed. "Wat it was now?"

"He was an idiot who thought he could flirt with me. Guess where he is now?"

Gitae looked around. "Where?"

She pointed to an unconscious guy near a car. "There."

He blinked a few times and looked at her with admiration. "You're really rude, huh?"

She crossed her arms. "I don't have the patience for garbage."

Gitae gave a half smile. "That's why I like you."

———————————————

James Lee :

James was in the corner of an exclusive club, watching Y/N with his penetrating gaze.

She was impatient, rolling her eyes. "Why are there so many people in the world, James? I'm almost exploding here."

He just took a sip of his drink. "Don't care about them."

But, of course, there's always a clueless one.

"Hi, beautiful, do you dance?"

Y/N looked at the guy as if he were an insect. "And you breathe?"

The guy laughed. "Of course."

"Then stop breathing."

James already knew it was going to be shit, but decided to watch it.

The guy insisted. "Come on, you look angry, let me cheer you up."

Y/N just grabbed his head and—BANG!—hit against the nearest table.

The silence took over the place.

James sighed, taking another sip. "I tried to warn you."

She looked at him. "Why are there so many people in the world, James?!"

He laughed low. "I don't know, but you're doing a great job reducing the number."

—————————————————————————

Each scenario shows how she reacts to situations where someone tries to approach her in an unwanted way—and how her partners (Daniel, Gun, Jake, Gitae and James) deal with this chaos. While some try to understand her impatience, others simply accept that she is like that and appreciate her aggressive way of solving problems.

The tone is a mixture of comedy, action and unconventional romance, with a touch of brutality that makes the dynamic between Y/N and the characters even more unique.

—————————————————————————

[louilies]

All that talkin’ on the net, I’m the one that got him pressed.

rapper!reader x cheater!chris (one time only tho) but pt2?

You find out through the internet first.

Not through Chris. Not through a friend. But through some random girl’s Instagram story, where she’s flexing a bracelet that looks a little too familiar—because you fucking bought it. For him.

And just like that, everything clicks.

The late replies. The half-assed excuses. The way he always had his phone facedown when he was with you, always acting like he was so damn busy but still had time to be outside with every girl but you.

You scroll through the comments under her post, and it’s like the whole world already knows. Like they’re all in on the joke, and you’re the only one who didn’t get the punchline.

“LMAO ain’t that Y/N’s man?”

“Guess not anymore.”

“Oh, she’s bold as fuck for this.”

Yeah. She is. And now? You’re pissed.

And when you’re pissed? You make sure everybody knows it.

—

Chris doesn’t even get the chance to explain when you pull up.

He barely gets a word out before you’re already going off. “You’re fucking with her?” You laugh, shaking your head. “That’s embarrassing. Not for me, though.”

"Y/N—”

“Nah, don’t ‘Y/N’ me,” you cut him off. "You must’ve lost your damn mind if you thought I wasn’t gonna find out."

Chris sighs, dragging a hand down his face. "It’s not what it looks like."

You scoff. "Oh, so she just accidentally posted your bracelet? Just randomly started talking about how ‘fine’ you are and how y’all been ‘kicking it’ for weeks?"

He stays quiet. Because he knows. He knows there’s no talking his way out of this one.

And honestly? You don’t even wanna hear it.

You shake your head, stepping back. "You did me a favor, though." A slow smile creeps onto your lips, but there’s no warmth behind it. Just amusement. "‘Cause now? I get to have fun with this.”

Chris frowns. "What does that mean?"

You don’t answer. You just pull out your phone, open up your notes app, and start typing.

—

The song drops a week later.

And you don’t hold back.

You name-drop. You call her out. You call him out. You talk about the bracelet, the lies, the way he was begging for you back just days ago—while she was out here thinking she won.

And the internet? They eat it up.

Chris is in shambles. His DMs are flooded, his comments are a war zone, and all he can do is sit back and watch as everyone clowns him.

And her?

Oh, she's pissed.

Posting subs, trying to act unbothered, but everybody knows the truth. You got her mad. You got her pressed.

And you? You’re sitting pretty, watching it all unfold, laughing. Because they really thought they could play with you.

But they forgot—

You don’t lose.

You win.

And you make sure they never forget it.

taglist: @ishasturnz

[burningembers91]

Money Makes the World Go Round - Suh Seok-Woo x Fem!Reader

tagging: @shittyprofilebutfuckit

Synopsis: Consumed by his role as a Fund Manager, Suh Seok-Woo hires you to care for his daughter and mother. But when you seem to know more about his own family than he does, will Seok-Woo be willing to change? Or will he discard you, his beautiful house keeper, just like he discarded everyone else he's ever cared for.

A/N: Every time i watch this film, I go through a rollercoaster of emotions with this character. He's such a selfish shit in the beginning, but so selfless at the end, and that's the vibe i'm going for.

Suh Seok-Woo was a selfish bastard, unashamedly so. He’d been that way his whole life, for reasons his own mother couldn’t quite fathom. Everything he did, he did with himself at the forefront of his mind. It was why he was so good at his job, why he didn’t flinch when he had to tell people that their life savings had disappeared, simply because the market had changed. “You knew the risks when you chose to invest,” he’d explain, not bothering to keep the bored tone from his voice as he listened to his clients sob down the phone, begging him for help. If people didn’t understand the risks, they shouldn’t invest; it wasn’t rocket science.

 It wasn’t that Seok-Woo didn’t care about people; he was just very selective about those he chose to give his time to. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for his daughter, sparing no expense for her happiness, buying her all the latest toys and tech, making sure all her clothes were designer and bang on trend. He opened his home to his ailing mother, giving her a life of luxury when she’d spent most of hers looking after him. His daughter and his mother were Seok-Woo’s world, and he simply didn’t have time for anyone else. It was why his marriage hadn’t lasted, why his ex-wife had upped and left, demanding half of everything even though he was the one who had worked hard to provide her with the lifestyle she’d become so accustomed to. She’d spent 8 years leeching off him, and he refused to entertain her any longer. That was why Seok-Woo was selfish; he’d learned at an early age that there were people who gave, and people who took. People who gave were fools, taken advantage of and bled dry due to their misguided attempts to be good people. He’d worked hard to get where he was, and he wasn’t sharing anything with those who didn’t deserve it.

Funding the lifestyle he wanted came at a price though. He barely saw his daughter, out of the house before she woke up, and returning home long after she’d gone to bed. It was a small price to pay though, and he was sure Soo-An was grateful for the gifts he often left her. His mother tried to tell him that his daughter needed her father, but Seok-Woo had explained many times that he worked hard to provide his little girl with everything she could possibly want. He even hired the best housekeeper, someone who took care of things day to day, provided only the best care for his daughter and mother, and someone who could help Soo-Ann with her schoolwork and extra-curricular activities.

You’d come highly recommended by the agency, your qualifications exemplary. You kept Seok-Woo’s home in working order, making sure he wanted for nothing. You cared for him family, providing Soo-An with the love and stability that her father didn’t realise was lacking. You loved his little girl, and his mother too, but you couldn’t stand the man who paid you to take care of his home. It astounded you that Seok-Woo couldn’t see his daughter didn’t want the latest gaming console, or the newest pair of sneakers that she’d outgrow in a few months anyway. All she wanted was for her dad to be there for her, to ask her about her day and attend her school performances. He couldn’t see that his mother’s arthritis was getting worse, that some days even the most basic of tasks were near impossible for her. You’d thought a few times about leaving, but if you didn’t look after them, who would?

Seok-Woo was rude, and conceited, so wrapped up in his own world that he didn’t have time for anyone else. Your daily conversations took place each morning and night, where he would tell you what he needed doing, and you’d debrief him on daily events. Sometimes you wondered whether you were his housekeeper, or his personal assistant. He was so cold, so aloof, and yet so strikingly handsome that it floored you every time you looked at him. You couldn’t understand how a many with the sweetest, warmest eyes could be the coldest person.

You often assumed Seok-Woo didn’t notice you, that you were nothing more than a faceless presence that kept his home and family in order; but that wasn’t true. You were beautiful, and whenever he spoke to his mother and daughter, they consistently sang your praises. Seok-Woo often added little bonuses on to your paychecks, to let you know he thought you were doing an excellent job. The extra money never went unnoticed, but it annoyed you that your boss couldn’t just outright tell people that he was grateful for them.

“Thank you for the extra money,” you said to him one night. “No problem.” He was already engrossed in his phone, responding to emails despite fact it was 11pm. “I may be speaking out of line here, but you don’t always need to give people something to show how you feel. Sometimes it’s just nice to hear that you think we’re doing a good job.” Seok-Woo looked at you, confusion plastered to his face. Gifts, money, that’s what people wanted. No one ever got anywhere by hearing something nice said about them. You could see he didn’t understand, so you tried a different approach. “Soo-An would really like you to go to her next recital. She’d rather you were there to watch her sing. She doesn’t want another Nintendo Switch, or a new dress.”

The two of you stood staring at each other, the ticking of the kitchen clock the only sound in the room. You’d overstepped the mark, you could tell, but you’d never met anyone as emotionally unavailable as Seok-Woo. “Sorry,” you mumbled, “I was out of line. Goodnight, Mr Suh.” You headed off into your room, leaving Seok-Woo staring at the space where you’d just stood. No one had ever told him they didn’t want something, especially when it was money. He thought back to all the gifts he’d given Soo-An, all the new Nintendo games, and clothes, and new dolls. She’d always said thank you, but her smile had never reached her eyes. His mother had always been grateful for the jewellery that he given her, but had she really wanted it? When he’d fought with his ex, he’d made it up to her with gifts, but never once said sorry.

Maybe you were right. Maybe it was only him who needed material goods to be happy. But when he’d spent his whole life focused on nothing but riches, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to change.

[lulublack90]

Prompt 28 - Ardent

@wolfstarmicrofic February 28, word count 672

“What do you mean Remus is on a date?!” Sirius said, mouth hanging open in shock. 

“I mean, he and Marlene are currently out by the Black Lake having a date,” James explained calmly. Sirius couldn’t understand how they could all be so calm. REMUS WAS ON A DATE!!!

“I think it’s sweet, Marlene’s had a crush on Remus for forever,” Mary told the group gathered together in the common room. “She was so excited when he asked her. We spent hours getting her ready,” Lily nodded. 

“I’ve never seen her look so happy. She was blushing when they left,” Sirius grimaced at the dreamy looks on the girl's faces. He just couldn’t see Remus and Marlene together. They didn’t fit. Remus belonged with… He cut himself off there, unwilling to think any further about who he thought Remus should be with. 

“What do you think they’re talking about?” Peter asked as he set up the cards for a game of exploding snap. Yes, Peter, Sirius thought. That was a good question. As far as he was aware, Remus and Marlene had very little in common. 

“Oh, I don’t know,” Lily’s voice had taken on an airy air. “He’s probably telling her how ardent his feelings are for her, and she’s blushing in the sunset,” Sirius was horrified. Mary snorted. 

“You been reading Austen again Lils?” 

“Shut up, it’s romantic!” Lily huffed, her own cheeks turning pink. 

“He’s probably tripping over his words and Marlene’s probably tripping over her feet. Give it an hour, and they’ll both be back up having had a perfectly pleasant time and Marls will be soaked through because she tried to stroke the giant squid again,” James told them as he slammed down a card on top of Peter’s. “Snap!” He shouted loudly. An hour. Sirius could wait an hour. 

That hour was the longest of Sirius’s life. Every time someone came through the portrait hole, he sat up straighter. He lost abysmally at exploding snap, though Peter was the one who got a face full of smoke. Finally, Remus and Marlene returned and Sirius felt a rush of relief as Remus immediately walked over to him, leaving a dripping Marlene by the entrance. 

“Giant squid?” James asked. Marlene nodded, and a few Galleons got passed to James. 

“How’d it go?” Sirius asked Remus quietly. Remus leant over and whispered in Sirius’s ear. 

“It was nice,” The little hairs on the back of Sirius’s neck stood up, and he felt a ripple of something shoot down his spine as Remus’s breath tickled his ear. 

“Come on, let's go get you cleaned up,” Mary told Marlene, leading her up to the girl's dormitories. 

“I’m gonna go change as well; the squid squirted me a bit as well when I dragged Marlene out of the water,” Remus told them, heading up the boy’s staircase. 

“You should just tell him how you feel,” Lily said to him quietly, so no one else heard. 

“I have no idea what you’re on about,” Sirius said, confused. They were best friends, always had been. But then the images from the dreams he sometimes had floated into his mind, and the world stopped. His eyes darted up to meet Lily’s all-knowing ones, and he blinked dumbly at her as he figured out what she’d clearly known for a while. He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. “Does everybody know?” He asked her, his eyes darting around the room. 

“Mary might, but everyone else, including Remus, is totally oblivious. Your secret’s safe,” she winked. 

“What do I do, Lils?” His heart was thumping so loudly he wondered that she couldn’t hear it. 

“You tell him, and then it’s his to decide what to do. Though you didn’t hear it from me, as I’ll deny it until I die, but Remus has been in love with you since the day you met,” Sirius’s heart stopped. He looked towards the spiral staircase and, without a moments thought, he was racing across the common room and up to Remus. 

[mellowyellowdaydream]

Mixtapes-

AN: Hi! This is my first fic since I’ve returned to writing, so please be kind. Feedback is always appreciated! Also if anyone wants help explain making links or has a source where I can learn lemme know please! Also I wanted it to be more period accurate to the era that is the 2000’s because I personally love that era for the fashion, music, pop culture! So yeah!

Word count: 9.2K

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader insert.

Rating: Mature themes so mature audiences only. 18+ enter at own risk.

Themes: slow burn???, friends to lovers trope, two knuckle heads being knuckle heads, mutual pining, eventual smut, fluff, time jumps(sorry not sorry) maybe some out of character Dean? Lots of boob talk cause I too love boobies. <3 sorry not sorry <3

Summary: Y/N loves making mixtapes, but what happens when the one she doesn’t want to disappear is the one that went missing. And what happens when she confronts the one who took it.

~~~~~~~~

Mixtape, a way to show one’s love to another through music. At least that what pop culture leads you to believe. Especially in 1996, except they started moving over to mixtapes on CD.

Y/N and Dean share of love for music, now it may be different bands and genres but the love is still the same. Y/N constantly teases Dean about his “vintage” taste when it comes to his music though, so she has taken it upon herself to introduce new eras and bands into his repertoire.

Now she did make sure she included songs he would recognize, whether it be from the radio or from when she showed them to him from her own stereo. She would obviously include Metallica, usually as the first song on the tape just to help cover for him incase John grabbed it, but she did make sure it wasn’t one he would normally listen to so he would switch tapes.

Y/N would almost always include one song that would make Dean uncomfortable, whether that be Closer by NIN or Change in the House by Deftones. Cause she knew those two weren’t just casual listening songs, those were ‘lets get down to business and fuck’ songs. But she also knew Dean and her would never cross that line.

Ever.

He saw her as nothing more than a friend, at least that’s what she thought. She didn’t know that anytime one of those two songs would come on he would start to squirm in his seat cause he started to think about what it would be like to cross that line. He thought about what it would be like to have her underneath him while they listened to those songs together.

Now Sam always thought it was hilarious how he would adjust in the drivers seat and try to turn the music down, so he could push those dirty, dirty thoughts from his head. But seeing as how his younger brother liked to be a little shit he’d turn it back up and compliment Dean on his music taste and tease him about where he got this tape from.

Which Dean would grumble he got it from Y/N/N, and say something about her trying to broaden his music taste. Which then would make Sam hide a small smile and snicker quietly.

“So you let her change up your music, but I can’t even change the tape every once in a while?” Sam would tease.

“Driver picks the music, passenger shuts his cake hole.” Dean would reply without taking his eyes off the road, but if he did he would see Sam mouthing the well known saying along with him.

“So you would say it’s getting pretty serious between you two? Hmm?” Sam teases, obviously loving the reactions he could make Dean have with just barely mentioning the mutual pining you two do.

“Sammy, once again she’s just a friend. Always has been, always will be. When will you learn that?” Dean replied way too quickly.

“Sure Dean. Whatever you need to tell yourself. But if I were you, I’d listen to the music she’s showing you. I think there’s some, uhh, deeper meanings.” Sam mumbled, resting his head against the window. Slowly closing his eyes as the song changed to a more mellow Led Zeppelin tune.

Dean just grumbled and kept driving. Knowing he would need to call you soon about the case they were working on, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to work up the nerve to actually ask you what Sam meant. So he pushed those intimate thoughts down and away. Maybe he’ll ask you one day. Just not now, while everything is so complicated. Maybe many, many years down the line he’ll work up that courage.

But for now he’s more than happy just bring your friend, because that means he gets to keep you in his life and keep you safe.

~~~~~~

Time jump to 2007

“Time to hit the road you two! Let’s go!” Dean bellowed out into Bobby’s living area knowing Sam and Y/N would hear.

“Fine! But I get shotgun!” Y/N responded before Sam could, so when their eyes met she gave him a shit eating grin while he looked at her like ‘why the fuck do I have to be in the back? You’re smaller!’ She just shrugged, zipped up her duffle, grabbed her bags and went out to throw them in the trunk of Baby, finding Dean waiting for them so he could have the trunk set up how he wanted it.

“Sam not too happy about the shotgun situation huh?” Dean asked while a smirk softly rose on his face.

“Who would have thought? The tallest person would be mad about being in the backseat. Shocker!” Y/N quipped.

Dean just shook his head and laughed while he looked down making his hands look busy while Sam took his sweet time to join them.

“He’s probably getting an earful from Dad, should we go save him?” Y/N asked looking over to the porch waiting for it to swing open.

“Nah, he’ll be fine. Bobby knows we will take good care of you and not let you into too much of the action. Shit, I had to promise I wouldn’t let you too far out of my sight or else he was gonna fight me.” Dean answered.

Y/N looked at Dean knowing Bobby had to probably fight the urge to slam him against the wall while Dean made promises about her safety thus making a small snort come out of her nose.

“Well I mean what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” Y/N responded shooting Dean a wink then looked down to fiddle with a zipper on one of the bags he’s been fussing over.

What she didn’t notice is the effect that answer had on Dean. He stiffened because his mind went immediately to the gutter. Cause he would love to do so many filthy things to her but would hate for her father to ever find out because it would be his ass mounted on the wall above Bobby’s doorway. But he couldn’t help it when she came out wearing a skin tight crop top that showed off her breasts like the work of art they were. Not to mention the small bit of tummy that peaked over the waist of her jeans cause no matter how hard she tried to hide her “chubby body”(her words not Deans) it would always find a way to pop out of its confines cause it too knew it shouldn’t be hidden. It should be appreciated and worshipped, cause who didn’t love a little extra padding for when it came down to being intimate it gave something to hold onto and extra area to smother in kisses.

While he was distracted with his dirty thoughts that’s when she noticed a small corner of something poking out of a side pocket, a small rectangular object that anyone who loved music would recognize.

A cassette.

But not any old cassette, one of the ones she made for him. At least that’s what she thinks it is, seeing as how it wasn’t in his special box up front with the rest of the tapes. And she knew he didn’t keep a lot of the ones she gave him up front in fear of John finding them or Sam teasing him about the tapes.

Just as she was about to ask Dean about it Sam came slamming out of the house. With Dean distracted with teasing Sam for taking his sweet time inside, Y/N slowly grabbed the tape without anyone noticing, slipped by the boys loading up Sam’s things and slid into the front seat of Baby.

She looked down at the well loved cassette. Most of the ink was rubbed off, so it was almost unidentifiable. But you could still see the remnants of her writing mixtape numba 69 ;)

‘Oh.my.god. How did he get this one!?’ Y/N thought while blushing furiously at her lap, she thought that she lost or misplaced this one in her bedroom. Thinking maybe it slipped under her bed at some point.

She was so wrapped up in her head and thoughts she almost didn't hear the boys climbing into the car. She quickly shoved the tape between her thighs and hoped neither of them picked up on her being flustered.

“Alright, next stop New Mexico. No stops unless gas or food. Got it?” Dean asked turning the ignition bringing Baby to life.

‘Yep’ and ‘Got it’ were mumbled out by the two passengers.

‘Alright.’ Dean chided and turned the radio up on Led Zeppelin's IV as the all settled into the music and ride.

Y/N was able to drift back into her head and wonder how he got his hands on this tape and when did he get his hands on this tape. Which that lead into her figuring out how she was gonna ask him those questions. She subconsciously would gnaw at her lips in thought, most of the time until there was a crack and raw or it was bleeding. She was so oblivious and lost in thought that she wouldn’t notice anytime Dean would glance at her and shift his gaze from her mouth to her eyes, and continue that route a couple times before glancing back to the road, analyzing her concerned face and making him curious about why she was stuck in thought. ‘Maybe bringing her with us wasn’t a good idea, what if she’s too in her head to focus on our task?’ Dean thought.

Sam wasn’t oblivious to his brothers actions though. He took notice and would probably comment on it if he knew it wouldn’t sour the mood for this hunt.

Sam wanted to make sure he came off as supportive to these two as much as he could because he saw the happiness each brought to the other, and he wanted to make sure if he could help it to not put any negativity into their first hunting trip as a team of three cause he knew it could make or break this whole working relationship. And he hates to admit it but he needs Y/N just as much as Dean does, because her lore knowledge and researching would put his to shame. (Which honestly he loves having that older sister role model to compete with when it came to the research and lore. ‘Because if you make it fun, you make it go faster!’ Y/N would say this encouraging the scholar that Sam is. And thus making him not hate to admit to anything.)

They passed through many counties, and one almost two states, before pulling off for gas and some snacks. But made quick work of getting back on the road so they could make it to New Mexico somewhat early tomorrow if they pushed through the night to drive one more state before they could say they made it safely. Y/N let Sam swap for the front so he could stretch his legs better and she could curl up in the back and rest incase Dean wanted to switch at all.

Y/N awoke when Baby slowed down on the side of the road.

“What’s wrong? We there?” She quickly spit out while brushing her hair out of her face, realizing she fell asleep for a few hours. Sam just grumbled and snuggled into his sweatshirt more.

“I need to stretch my legs, my balls are about to go numb.” Dean answered opening the door.

Y/N realized that they had made it to New Mexico but we’re exactly there yet. She also saw the opportunity for her to ask those questions to Dean knowing Sam was sleeping in the car and wouldn’t interrupt. So she crawled to the drivers side passenger door and climbed out once she clicked it open. Which startled Dean who was looking up at the night sky and stars.

Y/N mumbled a sorry while Dean reassured her it was ok. She leaned on the trunk of Baby pulling the flannel closer to her body to keep the warmth in if a breeze came by, while Dean paced infront of her kicking the dirt a bit with his boots.

“How much longer til we’re there? I’m sure you and Sasquatch could use a good lie down.” Y/N said.

“Well we gotta stop one more time for gas soon, but otherwise I don’t see why we wouldn’t be there by 10am. Which we could find a motel, check in, clean up and then start getting research for the-“ Dean said but stopping to make her say what they were hunting again.

“Ghost? You were confused about a ghost?” Y/N asked, looking up at him with the ‘what the hell’ face and raised eyebrows.

“Yeah that. I couldn’t remember if it was that or vampires.” Dean replied.

“They are nothing similar. How did you get those two mixed up?” Y/N teased putting her hands on her waist, exposing her skin tight baby tee that hugged her boobs to perfection. Dean sputtered but couldn’t come up with an excuse and trying to not make it obvious he liked what the shirt was doing for her body. And seeing that little sliver of tummy peaking out just above her high waisted jeans definitely didn’t help whatsoever.

“Can I ask you something Dean?” Y/N interrupted his thoughts, making him shake his head.

Oh no. I’ve been caught checking out my best friend and now she’s gonna fucking hate my guts! Dean thought.

“A question, can I ask you one?” Y/N repeated.

“Uh, sure?” He responded but unsure of what to expect next from Y/N.

“Where and when did you get this?” Y/N asked as she slid the cassette tape out of her the big front pocket on her pants(think more cargo/jnco jeans none of this skinny Jean shit).

Deans eyes widened and he tried to grab the tape from her, but her reaction was far quicker and she pulled it away and held it up over her shoulder while quirking her left eyebrow at him.

“Come on sweetheart, you know that’s one of the ones you gave me way back when.” Dean answered trying to play it off as one of her normal mixtapes.

“No it’s not. This is the one I lost. In my room. 10 years ago. Now how did you end up with it? Hmmm?” Y/N asked again, squinting her eyes at him to try and intimidate him. Which ended up doing the opposite because Dean thought the face was quite cute and had to hold back his smile.

“I have no idea. I honestly thought it was one of the ones you made for me. Let me see it.” He answered reaching for it and snatching from her hands.

“Hey!” She shouted trying to fight him over it and trying but failing to climb up his body to retrieve it from his outstretched arm.

You two were too busy bickering and playing keep away to notice that Sam had half climbed out of the car and was waiting for you fools to finish.

“Can we finish the drive?” Sam said, throwing his voice so you two would stop.

You two stopped, frozen in a weird position. Somehow you had ended up on Dean’s back like a back pack with your arm outstretched to try and reach the tape from Dean’s right hand. But his left hand was down and around your back/waist so you wouldn’t fall. He slowly turned towards the interrupter while you both looked like a deer in head lights sharing the same surprise.

“Uh yeah.” Dean said, you climbing down and readjusting your shirt and flannel while he cleared his throat and held the cassette between both of his hands.

Y/N climbed back into the back seat, her cheeks flaming with some embarrassment but also because she couldn’t stop thinking about how close she was pressed to Dean. And how even though they were stupidly fighting over a cassette he still made sure she wouldn’t fall on her ass while on his back. Thus spurring her into more of a flush because of how stupidly sweet the gesture was.

Once the boys were loaded back in she caught Dean’s eye in the rear view and he had a caught flush still on his cheeks and ears. So she sent him a wink and the I’m watching you hand movements to let him know they weren’t yet done with that discussion.

“You gonna put that cassette in or are you just gonna keep fiddling with it?” Sam asked Dean. Making Y/N shoot forward to lean her arms on the back rest of the front seat so she could be included in the discussion.

“Yeah Dean. Put it in. I’m sure your brother would love to hear that mixtape.” Y/N added, wishing she could add ‘that I made specifically for when I could fuck you in the back seat here and I drunkinly told you about 10 years ago!’ Sam shot her a look with a small smile tugging at the corner on his mouth.

“Nah, I’ll save that one for later. Let’s just put in this one.” Dean responded after fishing around in the cubby on the door for his Metallica Ride the Lightning cassette but also trying to hide the mixtape deep within the cubby so she wouldn’t ask him about it again. And ignored the other two trying to egg him on.

He cranked the radio as he pulled back on the the small highway and drove on. And they drove none of them opening their mouths about what happened outside or why this mixtape was so damn important.

The sun was about to be up right as the pulled into the gas station two hours from their destination. Sam climbed out to go to the bathroom and grab snacks while Dean made quick work getting gas into Baby. Y/N climbed out on the drivers side, stretching her body and letting out a small moan to see how she could make Dean uncomfortable with that sound. Her shirt rising to just below her bra almost popping up over it exposing them. (She knew of his love of woman and their bodies so she would let him ogle cause that meant if she could get his attention then maybe just maybe he might feel the same, right?)

Which the reaction she got was exactly what she wanted, him shifting himself and coughing to cover up the fact the he did ogle and check her out. And he didn’t mind one but what he saw. He actually loved her body, though would never admit it to her. That would be crossing the line and he wouldn’t do that, would he?

“I gotta pee but I want shotgun once I’m back.” Y/N said, shutting the door and walking to where the bathrooms were on the small building in the middle of nowhere.

‘Shit. She’s gonna wanna talk about the tape, and now they are both awake and he’s gonna have input too. Great. Just great.’ Dean thought.

Sam wandered out and Dean told him Y/N’s request to sit upfront. Which Sam was more than happy to oblige if it meant these two would finally talk about that tape or “fight” they had earlier. So Sam climbed into the back and waited for the rest of the team to join until they could hit the road and disperse the snacks amongst them.

As the clock hit 10:23 they rolled into a small motel in a somewhat small town in northwest New Mexico. Y/N hoped that there was either more than one room or a room with two queens and a sofa.

Dean parked and turned off Baby, turned around towards his brother to shoot him a look to make him get out and get rooms for the three of them so that maybe Dean and Y/N could have alone time really quick.

Sam huffed and climbed out. Rolling his eyes as he went into the small reception area of the even smaller, run down vintage motel.

“Looks like it hasn’t been updated in a few decades. Let’s hope they have a good cleaning crew.” Y/N joked looked out eyeing the small building, bits of the stucco crumbling away from the frame work on portions of the motel. She could see a visible line on the building from where they either gave up painting the building or ran out of paint and didn’t want to go back to get more paint to finish.

“Well it’s home until we find the bones, salt and burn them. So let’s hope you and Sam can figure out who we need to talk to or where we need to go.” Dean said in response. Y/N finally looking at him. Still waiting for Sam to come back.

“Dean, we still haven’t finished that conversation we started earlier. I wanna know how you ended up with that tape.” Y/N said, hoping he won’t put up too much of a fight so they can finally ease whatever this tension is between them.

“Y/N look I-“ Dean started but was interrupted by Sam opening up the door to tell them which room was theirs.

“We got one room, 103, 2 queen beds. Sorry guys, the receptionist said that half the building is falling in on itself cause of the high winds and not enough consist foot traffic to keep up with the repairs. He also-“ Sam started rambling and the two in the front seat turned and looked at him like he was crazy.

“What?” Sam asked very confused.

“Seriously Sammy?!” Y/N asked a little distraught that Dean was about to confess something but was so rudely interrupted by his little brother once again. Dean took this opportunity to exit the car and conversation so he wouldn’t have to confess his feelings.

“What did I do?” Sam asked throwing back the same attitude.

Y/N just turned around and climbed out of the car to help unload the trunk so they could settle into the room and get set up to do what they need to.

“Come on you two it’s not like I interrupted something important right?” Sam asked finally joining you two to carry his share of bags.

Y/N and Dean shot him the same look, one that read seriously dude you know what you did. Y/N’s turned into a pout as she trudged over to number 103 and waited for the two to join her.

Sam fumbled with the key, almost dropping it on to the small mat in front of the door.

“Sam take the bed closest to the bathroom, Y/N you're on whatever bedside as long as it’s between Sam and I.” Dean ordered as Sam got the door to open and they all piled through, Sam dropping his things on the bed closest to the bathroom.

“What?” Y/N asked, very confused, coming to a stop between the two beds and brothers.

“Are you trying to get me to sleep with you Dean? Hmm?” Y/N teased deciding to drop her bags right between the two beds to confuse Dean.

“Well you would be protected on both sides. It’s logic sweetheart.” Dean said, coming up with the perfect excuse like he knew they would be in this exact situation.

Sam was gonna use this distraction so while those two started arguing, he grabbed what he would need to freshen up, and slowly and quietly snuck to the bathroom. But he wanted them to know they were alone so he slowly closed the door then as he got to just about latching it, he gave a little more force so it would latch loudly. Alerting the two knuckleheads.

Which startled the shit out of Y/N, making her jump and realize what exactly happened. The water from the shower started rather loudly at this moment. Dean laughed at her reaction but then also realized and they both looked at each other and blushing heavily. Then as quick as they looked at each other they quickly looked away. Y/N once again chewing on her lip and deciding to squat down in front of her bag and fish out her lore books, note supplies and laptop.

Dean was checking out her ass as subtly as he could, making his hands busy in his duffle. Him searching for agent attire to wear for interviews. He couldn’t help but look at it honestly, Y/N should be proud of that ass, the roundness of it filling out the seat of her jeans so well it’s like they were painted on. Y/N shed her flannel then, tossing onto her pile and stood up to head to the small table with two chairs. Dean had to quickly turn himself back to his bag not realizing he watched her move across the room, his upper body turned to angle towards her.

Y/N sat down and glanced at Dean watching him pretend to be busy. He was so easy to read to her, but she did spend years breaking down his walls to let her in. Which took almost a decade, so it was not an easy feat for either of them.

“So Dean, can you answer me now or will we be interrupted again?” Y/N asked, flipping open to the info she had started collecting for this case.

“Not right now. We gotta focus sweetheart. Maybe later.” He answered coming to sit opposite of her at the table.

“Fine. But just so you know I’m holding you to that. You don’t get to just not answer me.” Y/N said point her pen at him to emphasize her point.

“Now so far we know that there’s a spirit who became upset over something or other. Came back and is now attacking its descendants?” Y/N said flipping through the papers.

“But?” Dean asked, knowing exactly what they needed.

“We need to know first of all where they are, or if there’s an item they are still attached to. And maybe we will find out why the hell they decided to come out of retirement to do this.” Y/N answered, smiling proudly at Dean. He obviously couldn’t keep his smile at bay when he say hers.

‘Fuck she’s perfect.’ Dean thought. Realizing he thought that, quickly shook his head and relaxed his face to not show any emotion or inkling of his thought on his face.

Y/N just gave him a weird look and kept digging through her papers and notes.

“Now there is one descendant we can talk to. But he’s a little hard to get a hold of apparently. So maybe you two need to go pretend to be FBI and see if he’ll talk?” Y/N suggested, hoping that maybe she could see him in that delicious black suit, even though it wasn’t tailored for him he still wore it exceptionally well.

“Probably what we were planning on doing, do you have an address or do we need to track it down? And by we I mean Sam and I. I want you to stay here Y/N. Just in case it’s not safe.” Dean said, staring her down, hoping to show her he means business.

“Seriously?!” Y/N answered, ignoring the first few questions. Obviously pissed off.

“Come on Y/N/N. Your dad just wants to keep you safe, same with me. And if I know you are here and safe then that’s one thing I don’t have to worry about.” Dean responded, hoping she understands.

“Dean. It’s a simple salt and burn. How many of these have just you and I done? This isn’t any different. Why are you being so weird all of a sudden?” Y/N asked irritation making her start to get confrontational.

“I-I… Look I care about you ok. However you want to interpret that.” Dean said, throwing the ball right into her court. Stunning Y/N speechless, her mouth slightly opening in disbelief.

“Well, I-uh.” She started but couldn’t finish. Her brain completely short circuiting on the fact the Dean Winchester ADMITTED, openly admitted his care for her.

Y/N blinked a couple times hoping it would get her brain to reboot fast enough to respond. She had to quickly look down as her blush took over her face and chest.

She was unfortunately too slow, Sam emerging from the bathroom. Steam filtering out with him.

“I hope you didn’t use all the hot water!” Dean said, quickly diverting the attention to Sam. Y/N thanked him because she knew she wouldn’t be able to give him the response she wants to in only a short while.

“No. There should be some left. What’s the plan? Cause I know we should do FBI, but having more than two agents out feels weird. Like how often have we seen three working together in the field?” Sam asked. Dean then shooting a look at Y/N, smirking.

“Fine! I’ll stay here but as soon as you know what I need to research, call me. Then pick me up so I can help dig it up.” Y/N said, throwing up her hands and slumping down in her chair. Her boobs being pushed straight into the table's edge and up into her chin, pouting.

Dean got up, hiding his ogling her and that damn cute face she pulls when she’s frustrated.

Stop. He has to remind himself, walking to his bag and grabbing his things to freshen up.

Sam just watched whatever the hell that was and just kept on doing his thing. He then walked over and took the chair Dean was just occupied.

“So, you gonna finally go for it or…?” Sam asked, gesturing between you and the closed bathroom door.

“Come on Sam. Not now.” Y/N answered.

Sam just sighed, hoping that tonight they would finally quit being idiots and just give in. A plan popped into his head, knowing exactly how to pull this off. He waited for Y/N to fill him in on what he would need for the case, giving him the address to the police station where they would find the officer who could then point them to the descendant.

He waited for Dean to finish up so they could head out. Sam decided to take this time to map out his plan to get those two together, alone. Cause he definitely does not want to be anywhere near them when they finally bump uglies.

What he thought he could do was pretend to get food poisoning from lunch(if they figured out what and where they needed to salt and burn), then those two would have to confront what they needed to.

Dean startled the pair by bursting into the room, hair still damp. He was fixing his tie as he walked out.

“We almost ready to go?” Dean asked, not like he was the one taking his sweet ass time in the bathroom.

“Just waiting on you.” Sam answered getting up from the table. Dean just scoffed in response and shrugged his jacket on.

Nice. Y/N thought, openly checking out Dean cause man did he wear the fuck out whatever he was in, whether it be casual, relaxed or dressed up. He made those clothes look like they were made to accentuated his form.

The pants hanging off of his waist to then flow down off of his perky ass, because yes it is perky, to then flow to his long legs. The jacket added to his presence, his shoulders filling it out and making the fabric stretch lightly over the muscles. God damn. Y/N just bit her lip and looked up.

Dean was making eye contact with her now because she was too busy eye fucking him. He just smirked and raised an eyebrow.

Y/N quickly looked away face burning from being caught. Sam just quietly laughed at their antics cause fucking finally. They’ve been doing this little stupid song and dance for over a decade. Neither taking the fucking chance to step in a different direction for their relationship.

“Alright sweetheart, we will see you later. I’ll cal if we find anything.” Dean said making the final pt down of phone wallet keys before they make their exit.

“Yeah yeah whatever.” Y/N said waving them off, opening up her computer.

The boys headed out while she turned it on, and choose to stare down the device instead of making eye contact with either man while they exited. She didn’t want to show how truly hurt she was she didn’t get to play special agent but she understood how it would look weird with three agents walking about.

She quickly clicked her internet open and found MySpace as well as the link she saved pertaining to this case. The former was obviously just to pass the time cause how hard is it not to get sucked into that world.

She didn’t realize how much time had passed until she heard an absurd sound coming from her pile of belongings. Luckily it’s loud enough to hear, but fuck! She walked over and quickly tried to find the smaller object before it stopped its shrill song.

She found it and held it up in success. Waving it slightly before flipping it open and pressing it to her ear.

“Hello?” Y/N asked.

“Hey sweetheart, we got the lead we needed and are gonna head over there after we grab some lunch.” Dean rushed out, the sound of a car honking behind him.

Y/N figured he was taking his sweet time crossing the street making the driver upset enough to honk at him. Which would mean he was stuck in his own little world while on the phone with her.

“Yeah? Anything I can try to find for you two while you’re out?” Y/N asked, hoping maybe she could be of assistance in some way.

“No we got it covered. It seems like a very easy cut and dry case. I’ll give you a call once I know more, ok?” Dean answered.

“Alright well I guess I’ll talk to you later.” Y/N grumbled, obviously a little upset that she was now stuck in the shitty motel room until later.

So she flopped on the bed Dean claimed and grabbed the remote from the nightstand and started pressing buttons until one of them made the ancient tv turn on. She fumbled with it until she could find something that wasn’t too fuzzy or obscure.

She fell asleep and ended up being woken up by the deadbolt clicking and the door squeaking open. She sat up, her hair hanging around her face while she tried to collect herself.

The lights flicked on as the two boys made themselves more comfortable. Sam making a quick beeline for the bathroom once he shed his jacket.

“Morning sweetheart. Sorry to wake you abruptly but it looks like it might just be you and me going to dig up ye old sanders from the counties graveyard. Sammy seems to have eaten something that didn’t quite agree with him.” Dean said pointing to the bathroom as he came and sat on the foot of the bed facing the tv, starting to unbutton his collared shirt. His duffle open enough for him to dig around for his next set of flannel and plain black tee.

Y/N finally collected herself enough before she peaked out from behind her hair, seeing the naked back on Dean making her straighten her back. Realizing if she had the balls she could reach out and touch his soft freckled back and feel his muscles react to her touch. But she didn’t because she knew she would have to change into something easier to maneuver in if she was gonna be digging up a corpse.

“Sammy hurry up! I gotta change!” Y/N bellowed as she slid herself out of the bed and to her duffle, searching through to pull out a long sleeve crop and some yoga pants. Knowing that most of her clothes matched and she could just throw the same flannel over her new outfit.

Sam came out grumbling and holding his stomach. It was almost too real to be real. Y/N squinted at him knowing he may have been faking.

A topic for another time. She thought, quickly shuffling over to the bathroom to make quick work of his exile. Not wanting to linger too long in his “stinky” bathroom either.

She came out almost falling over trying to readjust her socks so they sat properly on her toes cause nothing was worse then the chaffing of the seam on her feet when she was busy doing shit. And god forbid she had to book it out of the situation.

“Let’s get this over with.” She exclaimed grabbing her boots and flannel to head out to the impala. Wanting to get this night over with. Sam just smirked knowing his plan was working perfectly!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

With the salt and burn finished and the grave filled back in, Dean and Y/N walked back to the impala that was tucked behind some bushes so anyone off the main road wouldn’t see it and be suspicious. Dean opened the trunk, they threw the shovels inside and Dean slammed the trunk closed. They each make their way to the front doors on Baby and climb in once unlocked.

Y/N thought they were sitting quietly while they recovered from the manual labor they just had to do with only two people instead of three-'Thanks Sam, of course you have food poisoning. Not.’ Y/N thought. What Y/N didn’t know was Dean was fishing around in the cubby to find the tape he hid earlier, so he could finally air everything out. He found the one he was looking for, ejected the current one and switched it for his personal favorite. He increased the volume slightly but not enough to drown out what he was gonna say.

The opening melody of Change in the House of Flies by Deftones starts drifting through the air. Dean drove off looking for a more secluded pet of town where he and Y/N could be alone.

“Y/N I just want you to have an open mind for what I’m about to say so please just listen.” Dean rushed out.

“Okay?” Y/N responded very confused by his statement. She watched as he pulled to out of the town and found a small secluded park where he knew no one would look for them.

“Y/N I want you to understand how much we appreciate you and your help with the research and hunts. And I know we’ve had some weird spots you and I but I think the only reason we had those weird spots was cause we’re both too chicken shit to actually admit to each other how we really feel. So when you told me you had a special mixtape for if and when we actually were intimate I just had to jump on that and figure out what exactly you meant. And well Sam did mention one time I should really listen to the songs you put on these to better understand what you were trying to tell me. And well he wa–is right. Right?” Dean rambled. Y/N fidgeted with the tear in her pants by the front pocket. Her teeth playing with her bottom lip.

“Dean, I-I don’t know what to even say. I’m surprised you even remember me telling you that, we were three sheets to the wind off of a few beers. But Sam was right, ya know? I picked specific songs that I would love to fuck to and maybe thought you would enjoy them as well? But I didn’t know you felt the same way as I did so I only made that tape for myself. So I’m assuming you saw it on my desk after I fell asleep and you snuck out of my room? Hmm?” Y/N asked, shifting her body so they were facing one another on the bench seat. Y/N she’s her flannel leaving her in a similar crop top to earlier but this time it was a deep red. She looked so good in red, and fuck seeing her dirty from the grave digging just added to her whole sexual aura.

“Your dad would have killed us if he woke up and we were both in there. I’m wouldn’t be surprised if he killed us if he found out we talked about this topic of you and I.” Dean replied with his devilish smirk. I wonder what she’s got on underneath, it’s gotta be good especially with how supported they looked. He let his rake over her form.

Taking his sweet time to admire her and her beauty. God she really is just perfect. He noticed how her breathing picked up, a grin lighting up her already flushed face. Eyes sparkling with want and lust.

“You want there to be a you and I?” Y/N inquired, her arms crossing under her boobs to cover her stomach so she could squeeze herself for comfort if he rejected her.

“Y/N you are all I want. Fuck, the things I would do to you if you let me. Especially to these songs, cause baby girl you are one naughty girl.” Dean answered as the song flowed from Change in the House to God of Thunder by Kiss. His fists clenching and unclenching trying to figure out if he should grab her hand or play with her hair.

“Oh. Do tell Dean cause we’re both visual learners.” Y/N teased hoping to hide her surprise from his response. ‘He wants me too? Fuck!’ She thought. It didn’t help she thought he was too fucking hot that it should be illegal and she wanted nothing more than to leave marks on his beautiful skin to have reminders of what they were doing secretly.

Dean reached out to her, pushing hair out of her face and rested his arm on the back rest, drawing small circles on her shoulder.

“Babygirl, where do I even start? Do I start with the slow make out, you straddling me in the back seat. Our bodies pressed together so tight you don’t even know if we’re separate people or one whole person. I would love to take it nice and slow with you the first time. We wouldn’t know how to breathe without the other at how connected we’d be, everything would be shared. Our air, our skin, fuck the softness of your skin as I run my hands under your shirt. I’d have a hard time going slow though.” Dean started not wanting to give away all of his thoughts yet.

“Well Baby, who says you would be the lead, whose to say I wouldn’t have you melting under my touch, whimpering for more.” Y/N responded, scooching closer to Dean, noticing the swallow bob his Adam’s apple.

“You’d like that huh? Being dominated? Me in charge?” Y/N teased further. And it took everything in Dean not to whimper because he would LOVE that.

He shook his head, clearing that fantasy out.

“Another time. Tonight I wanna worship you and your fucking glorious body.” Dean said grabbing her by the front of her shirt over to him. Making her fall into his chest, pushing her boobs into him. The melody switching again into Closer by Nine Inch Nails.

“Fuck. Get in the back seat. Now.” Y/N muttered, trying her best to climb back, not ruin the seats with her boots, and also not kick Dean in the face.

Dean too rushed to get back there and get under her cause tonight he wanted to feel every inch of her against him. He grabbed her by her hips and pulled her into his lap. Smacking her left ass cheek, making it sting slightly. Y/N couldn’t help but gasp and thrust her hips down onto him. Feeling the very present bulge in his pants.

Her mouth met his, the soft pink lips smushing together and fighting to each other. Small moans and gasps escaping every once in awhile. Y/N rolled her hips, seeking the friction it brought but also seeking that urge to get closer to Dean. He would every couple of hip rolls thrust to give her a different angle of friction, making her release a shiver and deep moan.

Dean kept kissing her, from her mouth, to her cheek, over her jawline and to her neck. His face smushing into her skin because he didn’t want to leave her skin. Being completely intoxicated by everything she was. His hands worked their way from her ass to her sides to her boobs and god he couldn’t wait to feel them with no layers inbetween. They looked like heaven and felt like heavens and he was more than willing to bet she tasted like heaven too.

“Dean. If we keep going at this rate, I don’t think we’re gonna make it to taking our clothes off. Please baby.” Y/N pleaded, struggling to make a coherent thought. She was high with how he was touching her, his hands rough but gentle against her. Making her completely forget about the fact that she felt undesirable half the time because right now she could care less what others think, cause if Dean was making her feel this way she could forget about all those other mean fuckers out there.

“Ok, ok. Let's just collect ourselves and figure out the next move.” Dean said continuing to grab and massage any part of her body he could touch.

He grabbed her shirt and pulled it off her body, throwing it into the front seat. He grabbed her chin and brought her mouth to his, their teeth clicking with how ferocious it was. He was working on her bra when she went for his shirt to pull off. This time she pulled him to her pressing their naked chests together. Her arms wrapping around his neck and head and he worked his hands around her waist to pull her more flush against him. He took the opportunity to flip them and press her back into the vinyl seat. Adjusting the two of them, now rolling his hips to press the hard, heavy bulge into her way too heavily clothed core. Making her whimper into his mouth as her body shivered with need.

They made quick work of each others pants, her hands working on his belt, button and fly. Working her hands around and over his lower back muscles. Her hands finding his back dimples, then gliding down under the elastic of his boxer briefs and cupping his ass cheeks and helping him roll into her core and clit more. Meanwhile, he was massaging her ass cheeks through her leggings, loving how soft and valumputious it get in his palms. He couldn’t wait to get her bare and fuck her tight pussy. So he grabbed the pants by waistband with the panties as well and yanked down until they were to her knees. She continued to kick until they were completely off but she hadn’t been able to get her boots off so they were currently stuck around her ankles while his had yet to worked off as well.

“I love you Y/N. I need you to look at me baby. You tell me at any point to stop and we will stop. Okay?” Dean said nudging his nose into her temple. Pulling his pants down swiftly before settling a over her, his member at attention and resting on her lower tummy. His velvety tips leaking a bead of precum. She didn’t have the chance this night to actually look at him in all his glory but if she did she would see a perfectly girthy and sized cock. Not being ridiculously huge to where it hurt but enough to get a good stretch and sting. That would settle into pure bliss because Dean was well endowed and he sure knew how to use it.

She opened her eyes to look at him, because now she could finally look at him up close and while they are both awake. Fuck he’s gorgeous. The freckles that accented every feature. His eyes completely blown with lust and admiration. Even with how dark it was where they parked, she could still make out the stunning color of jade. She took her right hand and traced it from his cheekbone, over his brows and nose down to his soft plump lips, taking her thumb to drag it across and down his jaw cupping his face. His one arm caging you into the backseat while the other massaged your breast. Enjoying the weight and softness.

“Baby, I’m an idiot for taking too long to make a move. I love you Dean. I need you inside of me, now.” Y/N confessed. Dean smashed his mouth into her, pouring everything he’s ever felt for her into that kiss, taking his dominate hand and snaking it between the two of you to find you soaking wet to the point that it’s almost leaking down your ass crack onto the seat cushion.

“So ready for me already baby?” Dean asked as middle finger glided into you making you gasp and roll you hips seeking more friction.

“More.” Was all you and your brain could say. Dean adding his pointer to the needy hole. Grinning as he kissed his way along your chest.

“Such a good girl, so needy and wet. All for me.” He mumbled into you collarbone. Fingers working that soft spongy part inside you that when played with just right makes your toes curl and supernovas flash in the backs of your eyelids.

“Dean, I wanna come on your cock not your fingers. Please.” Y/N whined. Dean stopped his ministrations and grabbed his tip to slip through her folds and slick.

Dean then steadied himself to her opening and used his hand to stroke her lips open to find her clit. So as he thrust into her he could ease the stinging sensation with pleasure.

And boy did he bring pleasure.

Every roll of his hips he somehow sunk deeper into her, every stroke of his thumb would ease him in more, and when she was fully relaxed with him, he was deep. They both needed a minute because they both shivered as their mouths fell open in ecstasy.

“Fuck, we should have done this sooner.” Dean mumbled against her lips.

“Mhm, we can worry about that later. Now fuck me like you mean it.” Y/N tried urging him by also rolling her hips to make him move again.

He just pushed up with the hand that isn’t between them and a low grumble almost animalistic came from deep in his chest. Pulling out to just the tip and rolling deliciously back in. Starting to set a pace that would quickly lead to release. He increased the pressure on her clit but started to rub a mix of tight circles and more open slow circles. Trying to bring you up and over the orgasmic edge before him.

You started to squirm underneath him, adding your own roll of your hips to help spur him on, matching the tempo he chose. He threw your leg up higher on his hip, the adjustment causing him to hit a new angle inside of you. Each snap sending a shockwave literally and figuratively up your body. You soft tummy and boobs matching the rhythm of thrusting.

You could tell you were both getting closer and closer to that edge of ecstasy. Y/N reached up her right hand to grasp his arm holding her leg up, wanting more of a connection to Dean while they ride into bliss. Her other hand grabbed her boob, fingers finding her nipple and rolling it. Dean watched on with awe, his pace starting to stutter because imagining Y/N playing with herself is one thing, it’s a completely different thing to watch it happen in person. And fuck was it amazing.

As his pace started slipping he started to collapse over Y/N and brace himself again, but this time pressing her leg down with him. Folding it and making her hold it open for him so he could fully support himself.

His face found its home in the crook of her neck, his small grunts and moans reaching her ears. Spurring her to help him help her cum.

With a few more circles of her clit and rolls of the hips they reached bliss, their orgasms breaching their peak and tumbling over that cliff.

Y/N choked out gasps as Dean moaned deep into her neck, his hips sputtering as his seed coated her pussy from the inside out, her own juices mixing with his adding to the mess. Their heavy breathing also adding to the fog on the windows.

Definitely gonna have to drive with the windows down. Dean and Y/N thought.

“So worth the wait.” Y/N huffed out as Dean slowly peeled their body’s apart, them both cringing as his soft cock slipped from the mess they made between her legs.

Dean couldn’t agree more. He sat back on his haunches and searched for his shirt to try and wipe up the mess of fluids making their escape.

“You definitely get first shower when we’re back.” Dean quipped as he swiped at her sensitive folds, her hissing at the contact on the overly stimulated flesh.

He helped her sit up and find clothes. Dean shimmied his pants back into place. Her handing him the flannel and him handing her a shirt. What they didn’t notice is Y/N handed Dean her flannel instead of his so she ended up with his. Dean helped balance Y/N while she untangled herself from the leggings and boot situation until they were placed back on properly.

A phone started to ring from the front seat breaking the two from their time in the back seat. Dean dived over trying to get to it incase it was Sammy in danger. Y/N stayed in the back, trying to locate her bra and the used shirt to crumple up and hide so she could throw them into her duffle as inconspicuously as she could once they got back.

“Hello?” Dean asked quickly, not even having it pressed to his face in the rush of opening it.

“Dean, where the hell are you guys?!” Y/N could hear Sam ask loudly from the phone.

“Uh we’re almost done? About to load up and head back. We’ll see you soon.” Dean responded way too quickly and then shut the device before his brother could even respond.

“Come on sweetheart we gotta head back. I got a flannel right here for you.” Dean said offering his hand to help her climb up front.

Y/N settled in up front, Dean switching tapes so he could once again hide the special tape. Y/N not knowing that he now cherishes it. She just scootched closer to him and cuddled into his arm, wanting closeness. Dean openly welcoming it and entwining their fingers on the hand that wasn’t resting on the steering wheel.

The ride back to the motel was quiet besides the soft sounds of Metallica playing. Once they pulled in to the Motels lot, Dean parked and shut off Baby. But didn’t make a move to get out. So they sat for a second until Dean decided to break the quiet.

“Y/N, I-I don’t want that to be a one time thing. Or for you to think that.” He said, turning his head to look at her.

“Oh, ok.” Was all she could say, fiddling with the thread that was loose on the end of the flannel.

“Baby I don’t think you understand. I want you. Monogamy, the whole thing.” Dean said, hoping she understood.

“Really?” She asked turning to look at him now.

“Really.” Dean assured her and grabbed her hand to hold.

She just smiled, beaming at him with adoration.

“Comeon let’s not keep Sam waiting. He’s probably freaking out.” Y/N said grabbing the discarded clothes and getting out. Dean following her out and to room 103.

When they turned the key and finally opened the door, they were not expecting Sam to be sitting and waiting at the foot of his bed. When he heard the door opening he straightened his posture and just started grinning wildly.

“What the hell? I thought you were sick?” Dean asked coming in and throwing his leather jacket onto his bed. Y/N throwing the discarded clothes from earlier into her open duffle.

“Nope.” Was all he said, eyeing his brother and best friend. Realizing they switched flannels and their hair was messed up in a way that revealed what they were doing in the back seat.

“Well I’m glad you’re feeling better but it would have been easier with three people to dig his old ass up.” Y/N quipped flopping down onto the bed she chose earlier.

“Yeah well I don’t exactly think it would have been as fun after. At least not for me.” Sam replied, leaning back onto his forearm to eye Y/N.

“I mean seeing as how you both have each others flannels on and the obvious sex hair.” Sam added.

Y/N eyes bulging from her head, not even realizing they somehow switched flannels in the dash to get redressed. And she hasn’t taken the time to fix her hair, nor Deans, to help hide the fact they desecrated the back seat.

“Well um-uh.” Y/N stammered. Trying to catch Deans attention to help her but he was too lost staring down at the bed with a bright blush on his cheeks.

“It’s fine you two. It’s very obvious with how you two are to each other and neither of you were gonna make that first move. So I may have faked being sick so you two could have alone time.” Sam answered, throwing you some help.

Dean finally looked up at Y/N and just smiled.

“Well thanks Sam. Took you long enough to get tired of our shit though.” Dean replied, teasing Sam.

The two brothers started to bicker playfully and Y/N just closed her eyes.

I could get used to this. Y/N thought, relaxing and excited for where this road will lead.

~~~~~~~~

A/N—Thoughts? Not proofread entirely so don’t hate me. Hits been a moment since I’ve written!

[aventurineswife]

Hello!! I'm here to talk about the longest request I've ever made, which is about the gardener reader! (⁠ㆁ⁠ω⁠ㆁ⁠)

Technically it's long because I had to put the meaning of each of the flowers, I must also clarify that the meaning is not 100% reliable for two reasons, first I made that request in the early morning so ┐⁠(⁠´⁠д⁠`⁠)⁠┌

Second, I looked for the meaning on different pages, so I'm sorry for putting a meaning that wasn't there. Now we start talking about the "Dream Declaration" store! (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧

1. | —This reader unlike other readers of my requests. This reader is somewhat quiet and polite, that's why he made a silent declaration to Aventurine because Aventurine was quite attractive and he thought she wouldn't notice someone like them.

2. | —The "Dream Declaration" store, is a play on words, this is done on purpose because "Dream" is used to dream, while Declaration is used to declare a person or something in a general way, if you put meaning to the word it says: "Declaración de en sueño"

3. | —A detail, which is not mentioned but easy to conclude is that the reader has a notebook about flowers, explaining their meaning, how to take care of them and their respective drawing. Also, he has marked the pages that contain the flowers that are related to love.

For now, those are them, since I didn't have much imagination with the reader who owns a garden.

I consider that this reader is like me, a person Introverted and somewhat insecure about romantic feelings, due to his insecurities that Aventurine was the opposite of him, he decided it was best to silently declare his love when Aventurine came to make her usual visit.

-💤🩵 anon

Unspoken Serenade

Summary: In the quiet sanctuary of your garden, you’ve silently declared your feelings for Aventurine, who seems far beyond your reach. Through the language of flowers, you’ve woven a message into each bloom, hoping he might understand what you’re too shy to voice. When Aventurine visits your garden, his sharp gaze and intuitive nature begin to unravel your hidden emotions, leading to a quiet but profound moment of understanding between the two of you.

Tags: Aventurine x Gardener!Reader, Fluff, Slow Burn, Silent Confessions, Flower Language, Introverted Reader, Mutual Pining, Subtle Romance, Emotional Vulnerability.

Warnings: Mild emotional tension, References to insecurity and self-doubt, Mentions of past trauma (Aventurine’s backstory).

The sun had barely begun to dip beneath the horizon when Aventurine made his way to the garden. His steps, fluid and purposeful, were masked by the softness of the evening breeze, carrying with it the intoxicating scent of blooming flowers. There was a subtle elegance to everything he did, his every gesture calculated and deliberate. But as he approached the garden, his usual demeanor shifted to something more akin to curiosity. The garden had always been a place of tranquility, one that he had come to associate with moments of quiet reflection—though he rarely allowed himself to truly reflect.

You, the gardener, stood near the edge of the garden, tending to a patch of roses, your delicate fingers brushing against the petals as if you were in a silent conversation with them. You had noticed his arrival, but you hadn’t looked up. It was not because you were unaware of his presence—how could you not be? Aventurine was impossible to ignore. But you were not one for grand declarations or dramatic gestures. The idea of speaking your feelings aloud was something that made you shrink back in quiet embarrassment. And so, you had chosen a different path—a quieter one. You had made a silent declaration to him, one he would never hear unless he looked carefully enough to understand the meaning behind your every movement.

Your eyes flickered momentarily toward him, only to quickly return to the flowers in your hands. The “Dream Declaration” was more than just a name for your shop. It was your way of slowly revealing something you couldn’t say out loud. Each flower you cultivated, each arrangement you carefully crafted, held its own secret meaning. And today, you had chosen carefully.

The roses you were tending to were white—a symbol of purity, but also the start of something deeper. To some, it might be a quiet whisper of admiration. To you, it was a declaration of your own silent longing, a longing you were too shy to voice. Your hands trembled slightly as you traced the outline of the petals, your mind running with thoughts of what you’d never say aloud to him. How could you? He, the brilliant strategist, the charming, larger-than-life figure, who could see through the motives of even the most skilled con artists. What would someone like him ever see in you, the quiet, introverted gardener, lost in the language of flowers?

Aventurine, noticing the subtle tremor in your hands, took a slow step closer, his keen eyes studying the way you interacted with the flowers. His usual smile, the one that danced in his eyes and tilted the corners of his mouth, was absent, replaced by a thoughtful gaze. He watched you carefully, sensing there was more to you than just your quiet demeanor. He had seen the book you kept close to you—the one filled with notes and sketches of flowers, each annotated with their meanings. He had seen the pages where certain flowers were marked with delicate precision. The ones related to love. It was hard not to wonder what kind of message you were silently sending, especially when he’d noticed you hadn’t looked up at him once since he arrived.

"You know," Aventurine spoke, his voice smooth like velvet, but tinged with a note of curiosity, "these roses are rather beautiful. But I can’t help but wonder... are you telling them something that I’m not hearing?"

Your breath caught in your throat at his words. You couldn’t meet his gaze, too afraid that the vulnerability in your heart would be exposed. Your hand moved instinctively to cover the pages of your book, the ones where the flowers of love were delicately marked, as though you could hide your feelings as easily as you had hidden your heart.

"You… you’re probably imagining things," you stammered, avoiding his eyes.

Aventurine’s smile remained, though his eyes sharpened with the kind of subtle understanding he reserved for his most calculated moves. He took a small step forward, lowering his gaze to the roses you had been tending to. His fingers brushed the edges of a particularly delicate flower, the soft petals quivering at his touch.

"Perhaps," he said, his voice carrying a layer of gentle amusement, "but I’ve learned that when someone tends to something with care, there’s usually more to it than meets the eye."

The weight of his words hung between you, an unspoken tension that neither of you acknowledged out loud. Your heart thudded in your chest as you realized that, somehow, in his quiet way, he had seen through the facade you had so carefully built. He had read you, not with the sharp, analytical mind that made him one of the Ten Stonehearts, but with the quiet, intuitive understanding that he seemed to possess when it came to people.

You remained silent, but in your mind, you wondered if you could really hide the feelings you had nurtured so carefully in the garden. Did he see through the petals and leaves? Could he truly read the message you had woven into each bloom?

"I suppose…" Aventurine mused, his tone light but carrying an undertone of something more sincere, "that sometimes the best declarations are the ones that remain unsaid."

You looked up at him, your heart skipping a beat as your eyes met his. The hues of his gaze seemed to pierce through you, and for a moment, you saw something other than the confident, calculating strategist that everyone else saw. There was a softness in his eyes, a hint of something buried beneath the surface, something perhaps even more vulnerable than what you were too afraid to admit.

Aventurine’s smile returned, but it was different this time—gentler, with an almost imperceptible tilt of his head. "But I think I understand what you’re saying," he continued, his voice quiet and sincere.

Your breath caught in your throat as the weight of his words sank in. He wasn’t just commenting on the roses, was he? No, Aventurine was acknowledging something deeper, something unspoken but undeniable.

"You’ll find," he added with a knowing smile, "that in this game, it’s not always about making a grand declaration. Sometimes, the most powerful ones are the quietest."

And in that moment, you realized that maybe, just maybe, your silent declaration was not lost after all.

[whoredyceps]

“Another word and I'll make you regret it.”

» you've tried everything to get a coworker to stop asking you out. not even human resources can help you. your only hope is din, who offers to play the role of a less-than-savory ex-boyfriend to get the guy off your back. will the punk tactics work?

» pairing: modern!din djarin x reader

» tags: creepy ass coworker, bouncer!din djarin, nondescript f!reader (brief use of she/her pronouns), threats of violence, vulgar language, no beta - we die like men

» author's note: i've been itching to write a modern!din fic and now that i have some level of creativity capacity back, it's over for y'all. i started writing this in a fever last night and haven't stopped.

"It's horrible. He just— he gives me the creeps!" You frowned as you leaned both your arms on the counter. Across from the kitchen bar, Din was at the stove. He nodded as he listened, his attention on both you and the risotto he was cooking.

"Why don't you go to Human Resources? Isn't that what they're there to help with?" Din glanced at you over his shoulder.

"I did! He hasn't actually done anything legally creepy, so there's only so much that can be done. It's like," you huffed as you got wound up again. "There's no reason the man should be passing my office, but he makes it a point to stop by my desk. Plus, he does this weird hand thing."

You hopped down from the kitchen stool to stand beside Din. He looked away from the risotto, just in time for you to grab his hand and hold it up.

"Pretend you're me," you explained. You proceeded to high five him, then wrap your thumb around the back of his hand. In short, you two were holding hands in the middle of his kitchen.

"So he just holds your hand under the guise of a high five?" Din raised an eyebrow. You nodded quickly, an exasperated expression on your face.

"Exactly! I feel like I'm going crazy, Din. Maybe he's just trying to be friendly in his own friendly way but..." You trailed off and pulled your hand away, your arms crossed over your chest.

"But what?" Din lowered the heat on the stove before he fully turned towards you.

For a man who looked like he had won every fight he had been in, you had only seen a softer side of him. Of course you had seen him angry here and there, but he was always friendly with you.

Two of you lived down the hall from each other. With the layout of the building, it was just the two of you on the floor. Din moved in almost a year ago, and you were thankful to finally have a normal neighbor. Over the time he's lived here, the two of you had become good friends.

"Can I be honest with you?" You leaned your hip against the marble countertop.

"Of course," Din assured you. He gave you his full, undivided attention.

"He scares me. Look, I know I'm not in any danger or have to worry that something will happen, but there's just something about him that makes me feel uneasy. I don't care that he wants to be my friend or wants to be pleasant. All I want is to go to work, do my job, then leave. I don't want to be his friend, or his anything." You didn't quite meet Din's eye as you spoke. It was something you hadn't been able to verbalize to anyone, at least not as well articulated.

"Have you talked to him about it?" Din asked. He was always one to be the voice of reason for you. While it was the logical step, he noticed the way you practically curled in on yourself. That wasn't like you at all.

"What if it's all in my head? Maybe I'm just reading into it, and I don't wanna stir up something just because I'm too in my own thoughts," you explained. "You know, maybe I am just—"

"Don't," Din cut you off. "If he gives you the creeps, that's reason enough."

You sighed and nodded. He was right, as he usually was. You watched him finish with the risotto while you grabbed two plates from the cabinet. The two of you worked in silence as you plated dinner and sat at the dining table.

"What if you told him you had a boyfriend? Doesn't that usually work?" Din broke the silence as he popped open a bottle of wine. You nodded, a small pout on your face as you held you glass to him.

"I had a bad morning and he kept pestering me about what was wrong, so I told him I had a crazy ex-boyfriend who came to my place the night before." You glanced out the window that the table was sat next to. It was small, made only for two people. Din wasn't one for company, so your presence always felt special.

"Was it actually a crazy ex-boyfriend?" Din asked. He watched you as you shook your head.

"Not even close. At least not any that live around here. I just had a shit night, but I didn't want to get into it."

You took a bite of the risotto, and your eyes fluttered closed. It tasted perfect. How Din was such a good cook, you weren't so sure. His meals were better than anything you'd had in a restaurant.

There was so much you both did and didn't know about him. He worked as a bouncer at a bar a few blocks down the road, and he slept most days. He had a cat named Grogu, but you just called him the Child. His apartment was clean and tidy while still full of bits and pieces of his life all over.

From what you had gathered, Din had traveled for most of his life and had many trades under his belt. Though he promised early on, when he first moved in, that he was here to stay. He was settled, and he wasn't moving again.

Not that you were complaining.

"Do you need a crazy ex-boyfriend?" Din asked. Your eyes popped open, and you raised an eyebrow.

"Huh? I mean, no. I'd rather not deal with two creeps at once." You looked at him like he had grown a second head. So much for your voice of reason.

Din rolled his eyes and shook his head. He put his fork down, his dinner temporarily abandoned.

"No. Let me rephrase that. I'll come in to your job and scare him off," Din explained. "All he needs is the evidence, right?"

You mulled it over in your mind. As you did, you looked at the man in front of you. At first glance, he did have an aura that would best be described as 'rough around the edges'. Hell, he made you a bit nervous at first. Though it didn't take long for him to show that he was a softie behind closed doors. Doors you were lucky enough to find yourself behind.

"You'd do that for me?" You asked, a soft smile on your lips. Your heart squeezed when he gave a slight smile back.

"Of course. Anything for you to feel safe. That's all that matters to me." Din went back to his dinner, fork in hand as he looked down at his plate.

You felt your cheeks warm as you began to eat again. There was hope yet that you wouldn't have to run your coworker over.

Before you left Din's apartment, the two of you had come up with a plan. You would ask the guy to go with you to get lunch down the block, and Din would be waiting there for you. He'd look at tough and mean, and just give the guy a good spook.

"What if he keeps being weird?" You asked as the two of you stood in the doorway of his apartment. Din was leaned against the frame, his thick arms crossed over his chest. You wondered if he'd ditch the long sleeve to show his tattoos tomorrow.

"Leave that to me. If he's got two braincells to rub together, he'll leave you alone. The first sign of trouble after and you call me." That wasn't a request, and you were well aware of that.

"You got it. Din?" You held his arm as you kissed his cheek. "Thanks again for helping. I knew I could come to you." As you pulled away, you noticed how red the shells of Din's ears were.

"Anything for you. Be careful heading home." You rolled your eyes as he smirked. He said it every time you walked down the hall to your front door.

"Maybe that joke will be funny one day. Odds aren't in your favor today," you chuckled.

"Eh, I'll take my chances."

You gave his arm one last squeeze before you went back home. That night, you slept easier knowing you'd soon be able to go to work in peace. Worry still sat in the back of your mind, but you trusted Din. He knew was he was doing...

Right?

All the next morning, your stomach was in knots. You almost called Din on your way to work to call the whole thing off, but you knew he had probably just fallen asleep. No way you'd ruin his sleep because you were a chicken.

When you got to work, you asked your coworker if he wanted to grab lunch when it came time. His eager smile made your skin crawl. Maybe you were too in your head about it. Still, you just felt icky all over, no other way to put it.

Dread sat on your shoulders as you worked. With every glance of the clock, time seemed to move slower and slower. Finally, just past noon, you shot up and went to find your coworker. He gathered his things, and the two of you set off.

The walk was awkward enough. You tried to engage in conversation, but his intense gaze on you was too much. He brushed against you at one point, and you wanted to jump out of your skin. Instead, you remained composed as you kept moving forward.

You had chosen a cafe with an outside eating area. One that would make it easier for Din to be menacing without causing a scene in a secluded space. Your coworker opened the small gate to the eating area open for you, and you scooted past him. Without seeming to eager, you glanced around.

All at once, you froze. While you were relieved to see Din sat at a table, you still had to play the part. He was in a corner, leaned against the gate with his feet propped up on the wooden table. As soon as his eyes landed on you, he kicked himself off and stood.

For the first time since you met him, Din looked terrifying. He was his usual tall, hulking self but his demeanor was totally different. He wore a sleeveless tank and thick black jeans. You took in the sight—

Did he have snake bites? Did this man re-pierce his lip just for you?

Fuck, talk about dedication.

You were frozen. While it could be read as fear, it was definitely something that twisted your stomach.

"Oh my god, Din? What are you doing here?" Your voice wobbled as you slowly approached him. Din moved with such ease for a man who looked like he could lift a car with his bare hands.

"Who the fuck is that?" Din ignored your question, his finger pointed straight at the guy behind you. His voice was an octave lower than usual.

"He's a guy I work with," you sputtered out. "We're just—"

"Why the fuck are you with my girlfriend?" Din poked his chest and moved closer. Close enough that he almost barreled into you. Before you could catch yourself, he caught you with his free arm. His large hand was splayed across your back as his fingers dug into your side.

"She's not your girlfriend. Are you that shitty ex that gave her a hard time?" The guy asked, appalled at Din's mere presence. You glanced back at him to see a bead of sweat on his forehead. Good, it was working.

"Oh, I gave her something hard last night," Din smirked. As much as you hated to admit it, the vile words out of his mouth made your cheeks grow warm.

"Din," you warned in a low voice. "It was a one time thing. We aren't together." It was easy to fall into the role of the damsel, scared of what her ex-boyfriend was capable of.

"You heard her," your coworker snapped. "Get away from her, and let her go."

Din barked out a laugh, his hand gripped your side tighter. You knew you should feel scared, but truth be told, your brains and insides had turned to mush. He was hot all on his own, but right now? You'd drag him to the bathroom right now if there weren't more pressing matters at hand.

"Come get her yourself, you little piss ant. Wait, is your name Alex?"

Your coworker nodded and took a step back. Everything you had been through felt worth it in that moment, just to see the look on his face. If it wasn't inappropriate, you'd snap a picture to keep it forever.

Din released you, only for him to move you behind him. He stepped closer to Alex until they were practically flush against each other. He was a full head and a half taller than your coworker.

"So you're the one who's been following her around like a fucking freak? What, you think following her around like a sad little puppy is gonna get you in her pants?" His tone was almost humored, he was so astounded.

"Babe," you started, your hand stretched out to grab Din's toned bicep. He didn't hold back as he continued.

"Leave her the fuck alone. Speak another word to her and you'll regret it. If I find out you've been anywhere near her," Din grabbed his shirt and dragged him so close that their noses brushed against one another. "I will break your fucking legs."

"I-" Alex stuttered. He was frozen in his spot, his eyes searching for anything but the face in front of him. You watched as his feet struggled to stay planted on the floor.

"Yeah, that's what I though. Get the fuck out of here, and leave my girlfriend alone if you want both your kneecaps." Din shoved him back, hard enough for Alex to stumble as he was let go.

Without so much as a glance his way to see if he was watching, Din turned and grabbed for your waist. In one swift motion, you were flush against him and his lips were on yours. It was unexpected, but it sealed the deal. You almost heard Alex scuttle away, if you weren't so wrapped up in the kiss.

It seemed like an eternity had passed when you pulled away. Much to your disappointment, you did have to stop at some point. Din's hands still held your face, your bodies pressed together.

"Seemed convincing enough?" Din had a slight smirk once he was sure there was no sign of Alex. He noticed the dazed look in your eyes, the way you watched his lips move.

"If not, he's truly a lost cause," you sighed. Despite his appearance, he was back to your Din. In the blink of an eye, he went from an ex-convict with a taste for blood to the guy you made baklava with last week.

"He was a lost cause from the start," Din finally let your face go. "You okay?" He stayed near you, close enough to feel the warmth of his body. Fuck, that kiss really put you through the ringer.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Thankful I don't have to spend my lunchbreak with that guy," you sighed. Din perked up a bit and slipped his arm around your shoulders.

"Think you can stomach the time with me?" Din asked. You chuckled and leaned into his side.

"You know, my schedule did just clear up," you teased. Every casual touch, every part of you pressed against the man lit your sense on fire. How were you going to be normal now? Now that you knew what he tasted like, how his lips felt against yours?

"Atta girl." Din slipped his hand down to the small of your back and guided you into the cafe.

Needless to say, Alex hadn't looked at you since. If he crossed your path, he went in the opposite direction. You were able to work in peace, no dread from the minute you walked in to the moment you left.

All thanks to Din.

[bedheaded-league]

I find it so hard to believe that Holmes would really let Watson believe he was dead for 3 years because even though he often doesn’t understand how his actions affect others emotionally, he’s definitely smart/empathetic enough to understand how much that would hurt Watson. And I also think he trusts Watson too much to believe that he couldn’t keep the secret of Holmes being alive.

My personal headcanon is that after Reichenbach, Holmes found a way to let Watson know that he was still alive, that he wouldn’t be back for some time, and that Watson needed to keep up the lie that Holmes was dead in order to keep them both safe. Which is honestly just as deliciously angsty to me as the idea that Watson actually thought he was dead for 3 years.

Imagine 3 years of Watson having to grieve a man he knew was still alive. His loved ones comforting him and him not being able to tell them that the reason he suffering so much wasn’t because he knew Holmes was dead, but because he spent every day worrying about his safety. Knowing that the love of his life is out there facing danger without him there to protect him, and meanwhile all he can do is wait breathlessly until the next time Holmes can manage to send him a message to let him know he’s okay. Knowing that at any moment, Holmes might be dying somewhere, and he might never know where or when or how.

Maybe he told Mary, because honestly I get the impression that she’s incredibly good at keeping secrets. Maybe it just came out one night while she was holding him after he broke down sobbing in their sitting room. I think she’d be angry at Holmes at first for causing her husband so much pain, but after Watson explains the whole story, she’d understand. The next time he got a coded note from one of the irregulars with an update from Holmes, he immediately runs to tell her. She’s so relieved to see such happiness on his face, even if it secretly breaks her heart. But it’s alright, in the end. She’s always known that Watson’s heart had never truly belonged to her. Their marriage is practical, almost fraternal, and that’s okay. What they have together is enough. She hopes that one day she can meet someone that she’ll love with the same ferocity that Watson loves Holmes, and she knows that if that day comes, her husband will be more than understanding.

And then Mary gets sick. It’s clear that she’s going to die. And all she can think about is how cruel it is that the two people Watson loves most should be taken from him.

“That man of yours had better come back to you soon,” she says in the weak voice of someone in their final days. “If he doesn’t, I swear that my ghost shall haunt him until he drags himself back to London and apologizes to you in person.”

Startled, Watson laughs. Mary smiles. It’s the first laugh she’s heard from him in weeks.

And then Mary dies, and the one person that Watson could have leaned on for support as he grieved is still lost. And now there is no one else who knows that Holmes is alive, or that Watson spends every waking hour waiting for him.

I do think the part about him fainting when Holmes comes back is true, though. Not from shock, but from pure relief.

Anyway I can’t stop thinking about this sooooo I guess I’m gonna have to write a fic about it. Goddamnit.