#this is more or less just a bit of fluff setting up something bigger but i like it XD

[blackjackkent]

Ask prompt fill for @astreamofstars and @marigoldbaker from this ask meme: Will They/Won't They Prompts Jaheira/Khalid - [NURSE] after a battle gone wrong, the receiver begins to tend to the sender's wounds, fading adrenaline and rising fear causing them to realize their feelings. Another prequel ficlet to a larger fic I'm working on. Also progresses me to the new stage of brainrot where I'm POVing from the random side characters in Jaheira's story that I made the fuck up. 😂 Hope you enjoy!

-----

Commander Vartan of the Harpers sits in the moonlight at the back of the rattling cart, carefully cleaning the blood off his sword. “It'll be all right, lad,” he tells Khalid gently. “Try and get some rest.”

Easier said than done, of course. Traveling in a wagon full of wounded comrades is not an easy matter, even when the battle they're leaving behind was technically a victory. 

It shouldn't have been a battle at all, Vartan thinks irritably, sheathing the sword with a sudden snap. What was supposed to be a simple investigation into local bandit raids turned out to be an ambush attempt by trained mercenaries - ones who clearly knew far too much about recent Harper activities. Bad intel - and my people nearly paid the ultimate price for it.

“Khalid,” he says again, more firmly. “Do you hear me?”

Khalid stirs at the sound of the commander’s voice, blinking as if coming out of a trance. For nearly an hour now, he’s been sitting on the wagon’s floor among the semi-conscious bodies of their injured comrades, watching intently as if his fervent attention alone was enough to keep them breathing. “I- I’m sorry, sir,” he says unsteadily. “What d-did you say?”

Vartain smiles slightly, although without much humor. “I said you should get some rest. We’ve done all we can for them. When we reach Highburn Pass, the healers can take over properly with the supplies there.”

“Oh. Y-yes, sir.” Khalid nods vaguely. The young Harper’s face and neck are stained with blood from the cut over his eye and his expression is drawn and weary. “I mean - n-no, sir,” he adds after a moment. “I want to- to keep an eye on them.”

Vartan glances over at the younger man - and again, the flicker of a smile touches his lips. Khalid is, of course, worried about all of their injured friends, but it does not surprise Vartan at all to see that he is keeping close to Jaheira’s side. The druid is unconscious and very pale with blood loss; the deep wound in her gut rises and falls with her shallow breathing, barely stabilized by the potions they’ve been able to give her.

And the dark of the moonlit night very nearly hides it but not quite - Khalid is clutching one of her hands very tightly in both of his.

“As you wish, then,” Vartan says mildly. There’s a long silence, broken only by the rumble of the road rolling away beneath the cart's wheels. Then he adds, “I know you care a lot about her, lad. But she'll be all right.”

Khalid's head snaps up, and even in the dimness, Vartan can see that the grey exhaustion in his face has been replaced abruptly by a flood of color. “S-sir?” he squeaks. 

Vartan raises an eyebrow at him. “Oh, was I not meant to know?” 

“N-no, I-- that is, I d-dont know what you…” Khalid trails off, looks down at Jaheira's hand in his. “Her hands were c-cold,” he says awkwardly. 

“Khalid, son… I know all of you think I'm older than the gods, but I'm not blind.” Vartan's smile settles into a rueful grin. 

Khalid's affection for Jaheira has been an open secret in the squad for weeks - as, for that matter, have been Jaheira's feelings for the young Calishite. The only remaining question is how long it will take the two of them to get a clue; Vartan hasn't participated in the betting pool on the subject, out of some lingering sense of hierarchical propriety, but it doesn't mean he's not invested in the outcome. The Harpers don't prohibit relationships among their ranks, and frankly all of the longing looks have been driving everyone crazy. 

“Why not just tell her how you feel?” he asks. 

Khalid frowns sheepishly. “S-sir, I--” He stops, swallows. “I would like t-to… b-but she is so far b-beyond me…” he mutters, half-aloud, half to himself. “And yet…”

Vartan raises an eyebrow and waits, and after a moment Khalid looks up at him with a plaintive, uncertain expression. “For a m-moment today, I thought I had l-l-lost her. It t-tore my heart,” he says shakily. 

Vartan feels an abrupt wave of sympathy for the younger man. There's a question in those words, a plea for help. Khalid has, to Vartan’s knowledge, no family in the city, and no worthwhile family anywhere. He isn't exactly drowning in people to ask for advice. All he has is the Harpers, who took him in and gave him a place, a home. 

“I think you should tell her that,” Vartan says, quietly matter-of-fact.

Khalid swallows, looking down at Jaheira's hand in his again. Then he manages a slight smile. “Is that an order, C-C-Commander?”

“A suggestion,” Vartan says mildly. “Just give it some thought, lad. Life is too short to sit on these things forever. Besides…” He grins crookedly. “You might be surprised at the answer.”

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Red

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.4k

Warnings: sexual assault (not quite rape), angst, feeling uncomfortable by a man touching you, minor fluff at the end

Summary: A mission calls for you to find your inner vixen to get information from a man who is known to be a womanizer. Things don’t go according to plan, so Sam has to step up and take matters into his own hands. When Bucky hears about it, he turns to you knowing you need comfort in the safest way possible.

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Author’s Note: this is a commission fic for the lovely @elegantauthor! go give her a follow! if you'd like a commission, use the link above for more information!

x

The short black dress stares back at you in your closet with a knowing look. You don’t want to wear this. you don’t want to go on this mission. You’d rather spend the night cuddled up next to your boyfriend and watch movies. Instead, you’re going on a mission to essentially be a vixen, not in the literal sense where you have sex with someone but in the sense where you have to seduce the target to get what you want.

It's not ideal but this is the job.

The man in question is a womanizer and is high in the weapons world. He’s one of the most well-known weapons dealers across the country. He mostly deals out of his club but whenever authorities raid his club, they can’t find anything to nail him with. That’s when they called your team to do what they clearly can’t.

You yank the dress off the hanger and quickly put it on. You haven’t worn this since before you started going out with Bucky. You can remember wearing this to the club with your friends.  The material is a bit tighter than you remember but it’ll help you get what you want. You shift your boobs to make them pop more without having them completely spill out the top. You walk to your vanity and sift through your makeup.

Someone knocks on your door before walking in. You smile when you see it’s your boyfriend.

“Hey, baby.” He has a frown etched onto his face, deeper than usual. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t like this plan.” You’re the only one who can get close to Mezzi. Anyone else would just tip him off. “Not that I don’t want you flirting with another man, but Mezzi is bad news. He treats women like shit. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

You set down your makeup brush and walk over to him. You wrap your arms around his neck and his hands automatically settle on your waist.

“I’m a professional, baby, and a really skilled spy. I’ve gotten bigger, more tougher men to talk for less. I’ve done this before. Plus, Sam and John will be there if anything goes wrong.”

The mention of the blonde man makes his frown deeper.

“I don’t like that John is going.”

“You don’t like anything he does.”

“There’s something dirty about him. He’s not a good man.”

You pull Bucky down toward you and kiss him, keeping the kiss short and sweet.

“You have nothing to worry about. I’ll be fine. It’s just another mission.”

Bucky slides one of his hands into your hair and kisses you for longer this time.

“Okay, I trust you,” he whispers against your lips.

“Good,” you grin and peck his lips once more.

You finish getting ready and leave with Sam and John to the car. Bucky leads his own team of soldiers who will wait outside until the cue is given. He would have gone in with you but Mezzi knows Bucky’s face. He would have ruined the entire mission before it could begin.

“Okay, here’s the plan,” you say. “I’ll go in first and distract him while you two go to the bar and pretend to be just like any other customer. Once I’m close, I’ll casually ask how my friend heard about his weapons and would like to buy some. Hopefully, he’ll be drunk enough to say where he keeps them which we would call in Bucky’s team.”

“Sounds good to me,” Sam shrugs.

“We need a safe word,” you say.

“Why?” John asks.

“Because I’m a woman going in to seduce a womanizer who looks like he doesn’t like the word no. So, I need a safe word or I’m not going in.”

“Seems fair,” Sam says.

“Fine, what is it?”

“Red. I’ll work it into the conversation but if you hear me say that, move in immediately.”

John doesn’t say anything but nods in agreement. When you get to the club, you go in first. The place is already crowded with a bunch of people but you push past them all to get to the far end of the club. There is a section separated by curtains and guards which can only mean it’s the VIP section. Through the large slit in the curtains, you see Mezzi sitting back with both arms on the back of the couch.

Bingo.

You walk closer to the VIP section and start to move your body to the music. Sam and John walk in and head to the bar like they’re supposed to while keeping a close eye on you. You look up and meet Mezzi’s eyes through the slit and smirk at him. You’ve got his attention. You run your hands down your body and move sensually to the music. He leans forward and licks his bottom lip, already entranced by you.

He calls for one of his guards and whispers something to him while maintaining eye contact with you. The guard leaves and heads over to you, and you pull your eyes from Mezzi to look at the guard.

“Boss wants to see you.”

“Lead the way,” you grin.

He allows you to pass into the VIP section, and Mezzi leans back with a lazy smirk on his face.

“Up close, you’re even more beautiful,” he grins. “Drink?”

“Don’t mind if I do.”

He gets up and walks over to the mini bar to make your drink. You watch him carefully to make sure he doesn’t put anything in your drink, and you relax when he doesn’t. This place is so secluded from the rest of the club due to the curtains so anything can happen in here and no one would know about it. Luckily, you have Sam and John in your ear so you’ll be able to call for them if things get out of hand.

“Thank you,” you smile and accept the drink. He takes a seat next to you, a little bit closer than your liking. It’s okay. Pretend he’s Bucky. “I have to say, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so handsome before.”

“Oh, baby, there is no one else like me. You’ve come to the right section. I can blow your mind without even touching you.”

“Oh, really? Lucky me,” you giggle.

Mezzi reaches out and runs his hands over your exposed thighs, and you picture Bucky’s hands touching you. This isn’t the first time you’ve had to do this for a mission, but it is the first time since you’ve been with Bucky. You respect him too much to do things like this, but there was no other way to get close to Mezzi.

“God, you’re so sexy. Best looking girl here.”

“You’re just saying that.”

His hands briefly slide up your dress before he moves it back down. “No, I’m not. When I see something I like, I make sure she knows about it.”

“Here’s to new opportunities,” you grin and hold your drink out to him. He raises his own drink and clinks it with yours, but he only takes a sip. He’s careful not to intake too much alcohol, especially when he’s involved in so much illegal shit. “I was hoping to talk to you tonight.”

“Yeah? About what?”

“I have this friend who was asking about you.”

“What friend?”

“Oh, just a friend.” You reach over and dance your fingers across his chest, slightly sliding them through the buttons of his shirt. “He says you have a certain shipment he’d like to buy from you. He wouldn’t tell me more. He says you’d know what I was talking about.”

Mezzi’s attitude switches but it’s very subtle. You can see it in his eyes. He does not like that question. He slides his hand up your body and rests his palm over the hollowness of your throat. Not hurting you but letting you know he can hurt you if you piss him off.

“Well, you tell your friend if he wants something I have, then he should be the one asking for it, not sending his whore after me.”

“Now, that’s not very nice.”

He smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Oh, baby, it was a compliment.”

He pulls you in closer so that you’re practically in his lap, and you suddenly grow uncomfortable. He has one thing on his mind and it’s not talking.

“Out of curiosity, what’s the shipment?” you ask, trying to get his mind somewhere else.

“Enough talking. You clearly came here for one thing and one thing only. I deliver on all of my promises, and I promise to make your time here worthwhile.”

He slides his hand up your dress and rests it very close to the one place you only ever want one man to go: Bucky. He leans in and presses kisses to your neck so lightly, and that’s when you panic. No mission is worth feeling like this. You don’t want to be here anymore.

“Red,” you blurt out.

“What?” he asks and pulls away.

“I like your red shirt. It’s very silky.”

“It looks better on the ground.”

Sam’s earpiece has been bothering him since he got here, so he’s trying to fix it. He should have gotten a new one when he had the chance since it’s not the first time this has acted up. John’s earpiece, however, works just fine. He hears your cry for help yet he does… nothing. He looks toward the VIP section and sips his drink casually.

“My favorite color is red,” you say with slight panic.

John can’t give away their position because Mezzi hasn’t given the location of his weapons yet. If they raid now, they might not have anything. Sam tweaks a few parts before putting it back in his ear. He smiles when it works but it’s lost when he hears your panicked voice.

“Has she been saying this? Why are you just sitting there?” Sam asks.

He gets up to rescue you but John grabs his arm.

“He hasn’t told her where the shipment is.”

“I don’t fucking care. Get your hand off me.”

Sam yanks his arm away and leaves to come to your rescue. John, on the other hand, finishes his drink leisurely.

Mezzi has you pinned to the couch with your dress bunched up at your hips. The only thing separating him from rape is a flimsy piece of cotton. You wish Bucky was here.

“Please stop,” you say, close to tears. “Red!”

He is about to silence you with a hand to your throat when he freezes. Sam places a gun to the back of his head.

“Let go of her.” Mezzi does and you scramble as far as you can get from him. You shake slightly and pull your dress down as much as it can go. “If you don’t want to get your head blown off, I’d suggest you tell us where your shipment is right now.”

“You’re bluffing,” he chuckles.

Sam moves the gun away from his head and aims it at his leg. He shoots once, and Mezzi jerks back in pain. The gun has a silencer on it so no one can hear how much Mezzi is in pain. The music drowns out his shouts of pain, and Sam moves the gun back to his head.

“Am I bluffing now?”

“In the basement, man. In the tunnels.”

“Come in, Buck. You’re up. It’s in the tunnels below,” Sam says into the earpiece.

“Copy that.”

“Are you okay?” Sam asks you while keeping the gun on Mezzi.

“I think so,” you whisper.

“Go. We’ve got it handled from here.”

You don’t think twice about leaving. All you want is to go home, shower, and cry.

“Shame,” Mezzi groans in pain. “She looks like her pussy would be tight.”

Sam rears his fist back and punches Mezzi hard in the jaw. So hard that Mezzi passes out right there and then. Bucky and his men found the shipment and were able to arrest Mezzi and his men on the spot. With that much evidence, no judge would ever think about letting them go. The adrenaline has worn off and the shakes have replaced it. You were almost raped. You were sexually assaulted. You might be a trained spy but that all went out the window the second Mezzi forced you on your back.

The second Bucky heard about what happened, pissed doesn’t even cover what he’s feeling. Sam had to tell Bucky what John did because it was wrong of him to hear your safe word and do nothing about it. Bucky storms into home base and makes a beeline for John. He grabs his collar and yanks him violently toward him.

“You heard her safe word and did nothing about it?”

“I knew she had it handled! He didn’t tell her where the shipment was.”

“I oughta kill you,” Bucky growls. He grabs John’s throat with his metal hand and squeezes. “She’s my girlfriend, you bastard.”

John is no match for Bucky so he doesn’t even try to fight back. Bucky is about to do more damage when Sam walks into the room.

“She’s asking for you, Buck.”

Bucky lets John go, and the latter coughs violently. “Get him the hell out. He better be gone when I get back.�� He leaves the room and walks into your bedroom. The shower is going in your bathroom, and he looks inside to see you sitting on the shower floor with your knees to your chest. “Y/N?” You don’t reply. He knows how scared you must be. “He can’t hurt you anymore, baby.”

Again, you don’t respond to him. He steps inside the running shower and turns off the water, not caring if he has water on his clothes. He wraps you in your fluffy towel and scoops you into his arms. He brings you to the bed and sits you down before going into your closet. He grabs one of his big hoodies and dresses you in it.

The second he has you in his arms, you bury your head in his chest and cry.

“Shh, I’m right here. You’re safe now. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“I was so scared,” you whimper. “I thought… I just wanted you.”

“I’m here now. I won’t let him touch you again. You’re safe now.”

Bucky smooths down your hair and allows you to cry as much as you need to. He won’t tell you what John did because that would only make you feel worse.

“Please stay with me,” you whisper.

“I’m not going anywhere. You can rest knowing you’re protected. You’re safe now.”

“I love you,” you say and snuggle closer to him.

“I love you. Get some rest. I’ll be here the whole time.”

That’s all the comfort you need. He makes you feel safe, and that’s all you can ever ask for.

x

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[fanged-fanfics]

Hi 😊 I'm here to request some good ole' silly / cute Wukong X Reader! I would love it if you wrote some headcanons based off how Wukong would handle his first-ever romantic relationship (and with a mortal no less-)

🧡👑 First Relationship — Wukong x GN Reader 🧡👑

Genres: Romantic, Fluff || they/them pronouns for reader || No warnings needed

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁⋆˚｡⋆୨👑୧⋆˚｡⋆✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖

- Monkey King is way more nervous about his first relationship than you might think. He acts super confident and easygoing about everything, but that's just how he's learned to deal with stuff

- He feels pretty dumb about being nervous considering the amount of demons he's impulsively fought with no problem, but he slowly learns with you to take things easy for real and to just be who he is

- He loves showing you all of the mystic stuff he has, the way you get so fascinated by what to him is just a minor artifact will always make him smile. He loves explaining the complicated tales behind them to you, explaining worlds far above or below your own

- On the flip side, Wukong does find some mortal inventions genuinely very impressive. He loves how creative humans can be, and he loves any moment where you can show him some mortal creations (like fireworks! He loves going on firework show dates if that's something you're comfortable with)

- He does get rather nervous with you at times seeing as you're a mortal. He sees you as more fragile, especially compared to him, and sometimes can be a little bit overbearing with how he wants to keep you safe. He does it out of a place of concern, but it can be a bit much at times

- Communication was probably one of the biggest hurdles. With some time and some long conversations, Wukong ends up being the most vulnerable with you when he feels comfortable. You make all his reservations about it feel much more manageable

- Small milestones like a first date or first time hand-holding are ones Wukong usually takes the lead in. But when it comes to bigger stuff, he lets you set the pace, wanting to make sure he isn't being overbearing or moving too fast

- Wukong occasionally gets into these reflective moods when he thinks back on his life and what led him to where he is now. It's moments like these where he'll gently tell you how much he appreciates you, how you mean so much to him and how he's so glad he met you. And he means absolutely every word of it. He loves every day with you in his life, even if some are rather rocky, and he likes to let you know that

[ipegchangbin]

— heavy lifting

sub!gym buddy!changbin x dom!personal trainer!reader | 8.1k words

♡ … sequel to uplifting After Changbin’s gotten too comfortable around the gym, you needed to remind him of his place. You’re his significant other, sure, but you’re still his personal trainer — and his training is only getting even more personal.

❥ gender neutral reader (they/them pronouns, no specifics). smut. fluff. established relationship. pure porn, no plot.  ❥ bratty perv changbin. petnames “baby,” “coach,” “rat,” and “bun”/“bunny,” semi-public unprotected sex, anal creampie (reader receiving), fingering (changbin receiving), strength kink (headlock), no specifics about y/n’s physique—but y/n is strong.

📝 happy new year bitch!!! i finally fucking finished The self-indulgent fic!!! header art by ME! otherwise, enjoy!

18+ only. minors do not interact.

You and your client — now boyfriend — Changbin were getting ready to go to the gym. Staring at your bathroom mirror together, he flexed his arms as he hugged you close to his body.

One look at the man and you can tell he’s changed.

He’s far from the man you met a year ago, the boy with a thick build that shyly signed you up as his personal trainer. He used to close his big body into itself every time he wasn’t trying to impress you. Shy as he was with you, his crush, Changbin was also confident whenever he had the opportunity to try and make you swoon.

Now that he got you in his arms, you all his and him all yours, he’s a lot more toned now and a lot more open.

You got very clear glimpses of his personality at the gym, but dating him officially was like opening a gate and welcoming yourself into his colorful world. It didn’t take too long to find out that he works as a lifestyle journalist, but it took many months more to find out that his side gig is working as a talent manager for some small-time DJ named CB or something. Whoever that guy is, your boyfriend claims that he’s just as shy as your coworker Chris, hence why he doesn’t show up often.

Changbin opened up more of his life to you just as you gave lots of your life to him. Every date extended from the gym to the cafe next to it, from fancy restaurants in each of your hometowns to humble home-cooked dinners at either his or your apartments. He stutters less and he’s more giggly around you, while you’re definitely not your usual strict self when it comes to cuddles in his bed.

You two allowed your lives to meld into each other and bond, mix in, and create one shared universe that you can both breathe in. He loved you and you loved him and that never seems to end anywhere.

But it all starts at the gym, you figured, and it always goes back there; he hasn’t signed out of being your client and technically still pays you to help him work out.

“Y/N,” he said with a smile on his face. “Wait first, please? I’m not ready to go to the gym yet.”

You raised an eyebrow at him and struggled to look back as his arms engulfed you. “First time I’ve ever heard that from you. Why?”

Changbin is always more than eager to go to the gym, so the request set you back. He giggled and you could feel his chest pump against your back. He smiled at your figure in the mirror.

“What are you plotting?” You squinted your eyes back at his reflection. Changbin smiled dumbly in response.

You almost asked again until he leaned down to kiss your cheek from the side. It wasn’t a peck at all, his lips solidly planted on the apple of your cheek for a bit longer than two seconds, and it ended with an audible smooch at the pucker of his lips.

“Heh. I love you, bun.”

The smile on his face returned bigger and brighter. His cheeks heated up and his ears turned incredibly red at his own actions even if he was supposed to leave you melting; well, you were, definitely relaxing in the hold of his biceps at the simple display of affection.

But you’re stronger than him, at least emotionally, and he knows that.

“That was it?” You faked dissatisfaction in your tone and it turned him back into the shy guy you met a year ago. “Gonna delay your gym appointment for just a little kiss?”

His eyes didn’t leave your figure in your bathroom mirror. Changbin’s body heated up and you could feel every bit of him collapse slightly as he stared at your face.

To him, you’re still as handsome and as pretty as the time he met you, if not significantly more beautiful now than ever. Even when you were intimidating.

“I don’t think my coach minds if I’m late,” he attempted a smirk.

Changbin grabbed your wrists with a swiftness and held them against your back. Holding them with two hands, he made sure that you were unable to separate your arms, teasing you with one of his strength displays.

“Coach probably wouldn’t mind, especially when they’re late too.”

He wasn’t just planning on locking your hands there. He was feeling bold and you could feel it in the strong hold of his hands against yours.

But you’re physically stronger than he is.

You raised your arms and his hands together over your head, catching Changbin off-guard, twisting your wrists and your body so that you finally faced him. With his hands in the air, you grabbed him by his wrists this time, holding your shocked boyfriend’s hands together and slamming his frozen body against the wall.

You had his hands over his head, locking him in a far more vulnerable position. A blush ran through the apples of his cheeks and painted his ears red. He looked most delicious with his eyes wide open, mouth hung ajar, and pretty little head racing endlessly with thoughts.

“And what makes you think your coach would excuse this unnecessary tardiness?” You asked him with an ear-to-ear grin and half-lidded eyes.

“I’m not saying they’d…allow it…” Changbin bit his bottom lip for a second to ease his stammering. “I’m saying I don’t mind the punishment.”

You chuckled at his weak response. “Where’d you get this boldness?”

“From you, bun.”

You leaned in impossibly closer to his face, tightening the grip on his wrists. Your thumbs massaged the peaks of his palms as your gaze drilled into Changbin for making moves that you never thought he’d do. The man felt so much smaller under you, his biceps clenching suddenly at the tense atmosphere that he initiated.

You stepped away, releasing his hands, and softly smiled. “Binnie, you owe me a hearty dinner tonight.”

Changbin blinked. “Is that my punishment?”

“Yes and no,” you tapped his bicep and squeezed at his muscles. Your sultry voice returned briefly. “Why, do you want more?”

Changbin nodded almost a little too quickly to be subtle.

You turned around to face away from him and smirked.

“How about we go to the gym and find out?”

The trip on the way to the fitness center went on as it usually did, full of banter and tight hand-holding. Your boyfriend was extra giddy in the driver’s seat — he insisted on driving — and seemed way too excited for something just a little less special than a date. After all, this was your work, and he’s still your client.

That didn’t stop him from wanting to be yours for a day.

You both greeted Chris, your coworker, and Changbin’s right-hand man, and Minho, Changbin’s left-hand devil. They were both sparring until you two entered the picture. After handshakes and smiles, they noticed the subconsciously possessive hand of yours snaking around your boyfriend’s back.

They always had knowing grins and your boyfriend always looked like a bullied little dog whenever they teased him.

Whatever it was between you or the two friends, you shrugged it off and headed to the semi-private training room that Changbin liked. It was a four-walled room full of mirrors and equipment, almost always reserved for you and him, your personal training all upgraded to something much more personal now that everyone in the gym knew the both of you.

Shutting the door behind you, your boyfriend let out a giggle. You turned to see him hiding a smile with a dumb look on his face as if he was aching to tell you a joke. You lightly tapped his cheek and he shrugged it off with a downturned smile.

“Anyway, silly boy, we’re here to work out your upper body and arm strength,” you headed over to set up the equipment, yet Changbin’s eyes wouldn’t stop following your figure as you spoke. You could feel the stare right onto your ass, his favorite part of your body, and it felt nasty yet comfortably familiar.

“Binnie, please pass me the—”

“Hmm…” Changbin crossed his arms, pretending to stand inattentively.

You blinked. Tapped your shoe to grab his attention. Nothing worked, and your boyfriend — your client — just looked at his reflection in the mirror, biting back a grin with sharp teeth.

“Bin?” You called out to him. “Baby.” No response. “Bun, bunny.” The eyes that were once on your ass seemed to look away, settling for your impending reaction.

“Seo Changbin.”

He whipped his head your way, feigning surprise, but you didn’t miss the way the corners of his lips turned upwards for a split second. He loved hearing his name, loved it so goddamn much that he’d tease you this way just to hear it fall from your lips, no matter how stoically you called him. If it meant that you would succumb just to say his full name, a sign that you were his, then that meant he won in his own book.

“Mhmm? Oh right, what’d you say?”

If he was going to play some stupid game again, you were definitely catching on, and you were going to fucking win it.

“Put the bench down here.”

Changbin’s ears were impossibly red again at the sternness of your voice, but he scoffed, appearing like the overconfident self that he wanted to be to you. He grabbed the bench, sure, but he hovered it just above the spot you wanted him to place it on.

“I said put it down.”

He dropped the bench down with a loud thud. His eyes shifted back and forth between you and his pathetic reflection in the mirror.

You smirked at yourself after watching his natural obedience shine past his antics. “How about we try something?”

Changbin shook off his nervousness to listen to your inquiry.

“Plank with me underneath.” Your voice was stern, eyes all strict on his figure; if an outsider was watching, they wouldn’t know that you were looking at your very own boyfriend.

He merely scoffed in response.

“Extra bossy today, huh?” Changbin smirked at you, the shit-eating grin leaving your heart burning.

You’ve seen that smile before: he flashed that smirk often, teasing you especially whenever he sent you mirror selfies from his apartment with suggestive follow-up voicemails. It made you laugh every single time how tough he tried to look, flexing whatever muscle he wanted and texting like he was going to ruin you; only to look like a piece of dumb melted mess whenever you teased back with the promise of breaking his cock.

And now, of all times, you couldn’t back down. “Of fucking course. Aren’t you forgetting who’s boss?”

Changbin wiggled an eyebrow, knowing he was pushing exactly the right buttons. “You already know.”

“I don’t care. Remind me who your personal trainer is,” you sternly said.

A whisper left his lips. “It wasn’t supposed to be you,” he subtly said, but you unfortunately picked up on it.

The dark stare you gave him was all he needed to realize what he had done, mouthing “oh shit.” All he could do now was expect you to double down on whatever you were already doing.

He fucked up, pushing the one last button too early — but he loved that he did, and maybe you did, too.

“Who’s your trainer?” You walked behind his figure on the weight bench. The reflection of your menacing stance in the mirror in front of Changbin left him nervous, his heart skipping a beat as he watched you trace a hand down his back.

You grabbed him: one hand pushing his upper back down while the other hugged his hips upwards. With full force, you caught your boyfriend off-guard by making him fall on all fours on the bench in one singular motion.

“Who is it?” You reiterated, ignoring the long whine that escaped him.

“…Y-You, babe. I-It’s…you—” The words left his mouth all chopped up in stutters.

“I need a name.”

“Y/N,” Changbin whimpered before biting his lips to smile again.

“Seo Y/N.”

If he hadn’t pushed enough, then he did now. It was your job to tease but he was catching on. “Don’t play with me.”

“You know you l-like it. You love my name—”

His response earned him a sudden and firm slap on his ass. The boy cried out, his smile replaced by a scrunched face, his giggle replaced by a full moan.

“Filthy little gym brat,” you hissed.

You grabbed a fistful of his curly hair, forcing him to stare up at your reflection in the mirror alongside his pre-fucked-out face. “That’s what you are. Some dumb little workout junkie who thinks of nothing but their trainer’s ass.”

Changbin subtly turned his head in an attempt to look at your actual face. “You’d do the same if I was your trainer.”

“That’s what you think, rat.” You spanked his ass again, this time allowing it to sting through his thin shorts. “At least I’m not a weak little submissive toy of a man like you.”

He whimpered again, this time sounding pained. You thought it was from the spank itself but immediately figured that he was attempting not to leak precum in his shorts. His cock strained against his pants painfully. How cute.

“Y/N! Please, please!” Changbin hissed.

In a twisted attempt to worsen his situation, you sneaked your hand under his shorts to grope one of his ass cheeks, your nails digging into the spank mark. “Please what?”

“F-Fuck…” He attempted to speak straight, holding back drool from spilling out of his mouth by biting his lips back. He stared at you through the mirror with glossy eyes. The hearts in his pupils shined through his bangs, affecting you as if they were aphrodisiacs.

“Please fuck me?”

Without a doubt, his bratty antics were getting to you, but you merely smirked back at him. The same grin he flashed you earlier now pasted on your face, mirroring everything he did from the ego boost down to the annoying scoff that left his mouth. Only yours was more sadistic, infuriating, yet all sorts of hot and addicting.

Changbin anticipated your response, the brattiness leaving him, faux fear inching close to his heart.

“Do you really think you deserve that?”

He tried to whine but nothing could escape his mouth. He was incredibly hard and his poor little fat dick couldn’t take it anymore. Maybe if he didn’t rush his flirtatious antics before you two got into the gym, he would’ve changed into looser shorts that could actually give his cock some breathing room.

What’s worse is that you probably knew this but never gave him — nor his cock — the mercy to breathe.

Changbin settled on shaking his head, his scalp stinging a little from the hold of your hand on his curls. At his response, you forcibly let go of the hand, pushing his head down slightly, making his head bow in painful humiliation.

A delicious whimper made its way out of his mouth.

“I’m here to train you,” you said, your other hand still firm on his ass, “I will train you to be patient, hmm? I’m not your partner now.”

You squeezed his ass one last time before removing your hand from his shorts. “I’m your coach for now, you’re my client, yeah? I’ll fuck you if you’ve been good enough.”

Changbin simply nodded his head eagerly. You chuckled darkly, impressed at your brat’s sudden obedience.

“Now, where were we?” You slapped your palms on his round and bouncy pecs. “Oh right.”

You got on your knees down to meet his eye level, him elevated as he was supported by the bench. You looked like you could kiss him, or if he stood up then you would suck him off, or maybe eat his ass in that position — but you simply grinned, laying down with your back to the floor and front facing up under Changbin.

“Do a bench plank with me underneath. One minute and thirty seconds. Go.”

Poor guy had the most agonizing minute and a half of his life.

The sight of you, winning at the game he set, and teasing him with the nastiest curl of your dark smile left him struggling when he usually never did. He could’ve gone on for possibly two minutes or more, he never tested the limit, but maybe he hit it when he was forced to stare at you.

“Thirty. Thirty-one. Thirty-two.” The husky timbre of your voice rang in his head as you counted the seconds down, a daunting timer right underneath him. He couldn’t believe himself, that he tried to become an annoying brat — and he never expected such a return.

But what was he supposed to expect from you — the partner he bagged through fucking in the very same gym he was struggling to work out in.

Changbin’s cock was straining, raging boner only ever getting harder while staring at you and your body that he loved so much. He couldn’t say a word, mutter a single word of worship even if he wanted to; he was still keeping up the act, refusing to succumb to the game he was still trying not to lose.

Maybe he already did, but he’s stubborn, just as you found him out to be.

“Fifty. Fifty-one, fifty-two…”

Flowing through his popping veins, his blood heated up his entire body when he was just planking, a simple warm-up exercise, as he fell into the pit of disbelief that you held the reigns and all the power even while being physically under him. He felt humiliated, less than the confident man he wanted to be, feeling smaller and significantly less strong than he actually was.

“Eighty-seven, eighty-eight, eighty-nine…”

At some point, he felt like giving up, like bucking his elbows and letting go of the bench. That unfortunately meant that he would drop onto your body and crush you, losing the game and, more importantly, hurting you.

It was beyond a game at that point. His nerves were fighting themselves, he wanted to cum, to drop onto your hips and just be fucked by your body. He was so ready to admit defeat, but he couldn’t at the cost and real fucking risk of crushing you.

Crushing the body he so loved. The collection of parts that made up the whole that is you, the one he fell in love with. The curves and sharp edges that framed your plush skin and contours, the hairs that grow in directions that flatter you. There’s something in the way the sight of your body places him in a trance; perhaps because it is the very body that houses the person he loves, his coach, the one who loves him, the one who knows how to love him. And god, you were strong, strong enough to bear his weight, but his anxiety boiled all the way down his crotch.

Can’t crush the body he loves.

He didn’t want that. Of course, you wouldn’t want that. He shut his eyes and listened to your voice instead of the thought. His sweat dropped from his forehead and neck down to your cheek, making you chuckle. The lightness of your laugh relieved him a little, but also made him harder, his hips wishing to line up against yours.

Of course, you noticed. Of course, you knew how badly he wanted you. You pulled your knee up and brushed it against his crotch.

“One hundred!”

Changbin yelled loudly at the action and your last count, failing to realize that he had gone ten seconds past a minute and a half. He tensely let go of the bench, only to catch himself painfully with his elbows and propping his body just inches above yours.

He flinched more at the fact that you barely flinched rather than the last-minute save down on your body.

“Good job, Binnie. You went beyond the time limit!”

Cock aching between his legs, Changbin resisted to call for a restroom break as he knew you would’ve humiliated him. He would want that, but not in the way he truly needed. He craved your validation in the form of proper disciplining, wishing to bring out that side of you, his coach.

But lord was your praise music to his ears.

If he had a tail, he’d be wagging it then.

The workouts went on for what seemed like hours of agony and his cock wouldn’t soften at all.

He did more reps on the pulldown machine than usual. It didn’t help that you hovered over him with your ass just above his hips as his back ached and arched at each pull. He looked beautiful, *fuckable,*especially when he complained slightly about doing another set at your command.

“Another?”

“Why, can’t do it?”

“What if I said no—”

You pulled the bar down with his arms in a sudden burst of strength, stretching his entire upper body, making Changbin groan so loud it might’ve echoed beyond the private room.

“You’re doing it anyway, that’s a demand.”

Then he got on the bench press while you hovered over his crotch. You counted the reps as he tried to focus on the heavy barbells. Your ass teased him, luscious hips just above his own in a way that made him feel like throwing the weights and pushing you down on his cock instead.

Turns out that wait is more tiring than weights.

Then you commanded him to use the sit-up machine while your lips were dangerously close to his every time he curled up. Then you took him to the chest press and forced him to stare at you, not your ass in the mirror behind him. Every single other exercise felt like another lap down the circles of hell.

He also did elevated push-ups on the bench as you sat on his lower back. The tease of your ass against the back of his hips drove him insane.

You spanked his ass again and he almost came then and there.

He was heaving, not just from the muscle soreness, but also from the thought that you could just fuck his ass in this position if you could — but alas, you held it over his head, and he was just a “filthy fucking gym brat.”

You could feel your veins popping as he smirked at you upon accomplishing his last set, only to feel satisfaction when he ducked his head and pouted when you raised an eyebrow at him.

“Don’t get too cocky, rat.” Your hand found his right bicep and held the firm, exhausted muscles.“How about I check your progress, hmm?”

A finger ran across the grooves of his shoulder blades and defined collarbones. “Oh, this rat did so well after all.” You ran your knuckles against the firm skin, feeling his biceps flex under your bones. Changbin shuddered at the touch, affecting him mentally and physically.

But god was your lovely voice making it so much worse. “Body got so much prettier.”

So was your teasing. “And you’re still so eager.”

You pointed straight at his erection while your other palm squeezed his strong forearm. He hated the teasing, or loved it; he isn’t too sure. Before he could say anything, feel the humiliation creep in for being a huge pervert, you bent down — and intentionally showed the curvature of your ass — to pick up a bottle.

“Does my baby want a treat?” You offered the treat in the form of a bottle of his favorite energy drink, still all cold even after being sat on the floor throughout the entirety of the workout.

The boy was thirsting, sure, but he wanted to quench a different kind of thirst. If the short yet thick tent on his crotch was any indication, then it was the darkened gaze that suddenly flickered in his eyes when he stared at you.

“No.”

A bratty side was returning and you hated that same lopsided smile on his small, puffy mouth.

“I want Y/N.”

You fiercely grabbed him by his cheeks, pinching your thumb and index finger down onto the softness of his cheeks. Your boyfriend’s luscious lips puckered at the pressure, but he tried to look less cute in your hands with a little tinge of failure.

“Demanding now, are we? You’re gonna have to train more if you think you deserve me.” You dug your nails harder into the skin of his cheeks. “What are we here for again?”

No response. Your nails sunk in more, making your boyfriend whimper. “Answer me.”

“Training.”

You let go. “Good. Training for?”

“M-My body.”

“Yes,” your voice softened. “For your pretty body.” You felt up his muscles, fingers walking across the thin fabric of his shirt and dancing around his firm, sweating skin. The threads were cool due to his sweat yet his skin was warm under your touch, the blood of a full-body blush creeping just within his veins, flesh reddening where it’s most sensitive — which is everywhere your hands graced.

“Such a glorious thing. So thick. So firm. So smooth, so beautiful.” Fallen into a trance at your warm words and touching, Changbin grew lightheaded, losing sense of thought almost completely even if he was feeling all sorts of emotions at once.

With a dark voice, you asked him an important question. “My baby worked out so well. But you’re missing something, why are you really here?”

Everything had to be mustered up for him to even reply. “To be…a good boy.”

Dumbing down, he felt his head spinning at your touch. He couldn’t form full sentences as he grew dumb, but he tried, and you could feel him trying. He still wanted to impress you but you had him drunk on the thought of you.

At this point, his poor cock had been edged past his record limit, but he hadn’t backed down to rub one out even in the private room with you.

Even if he wanted to. God, it would be nice, being sat with his back laid flat on the bench while your glorious ass cheeks bounced on his fat cock—

“I don’t think we’re done though.”

Feeling the grooves of his well-carved muscles, relishing in the subtle instinctive flexes, you felt a burn inside your heart just above the chest. Changbin was shaking ever so slightly, judged by the mere touch of your fingertips, a lovely little tactile feeling all contrasted with the flaming intent of your actions.

“I want more from you. How much can you lift again?”

Dryness caught itself in Changbin’s throat. “M-More than…130 kilos…”

“How about we see who’s stronger?”

“Baby—” Realizing how deep your pupils seemed to drill themselves into him, he changed terms of endearment. “Coach, what do you mean?”

“I lift you, then you lift me. Let’s see who’s stronger then. Got it?”

The matter-of-factly tone of voice and hands on your own hips got Changbin reeling. He especially loved seeing your displays of strength, something you were ironically subtle about even as his own trainer.

Is it bad that he got more excited to watch you outdo him than to prove you wrong? He hadn’t realized yet, but he was losing his own game.

This gym session was going overtime.

“You gotta be stronger than me to pass.”

Squatting before him, you looked up at him with shiny eyes as you readied yourself to carry your big boy.

He thought he would look unattractive from the lower angle however you digressed. His tummy became more apparent, one of your favorite parts of his body, alongside his ass.

It was no secret that the both of you were obsessed with each other’s bottoms. He wanted yours in a way that a hungry man would want to savor the food he’d finally get. You wanted to finger his as if his plump, round, and firm cheeks weren’t an invitation to be violated.

Maybe you should finger him.

Maybe you’d do it after lifting him off the ground.

“Holy—woah, Y/N, woah woah! Put me down!”

“Ah. Won’t put you down for a minute, I kind of like the heaviness.” You lifted him up by snaking a strong arm around his hip and supporting his heavy upper body with your other arm. “You weren’t this big before.”

You spanked his ass one more time, watching the jiggly form recoil, until you held it firmly in your hand.

“Now, I’m sorry Binnie, but I can’t resist you.”

While holding him up, you slammed both of your bodies against the wall, making sure not to break the mirror behind Changbin or hurt him in the process. After realizing that it had only gotten his cock pulsating in his shorts, you made the wise decision to pull it down.

The yelp that Changbin let out was to die for.

You hastily pulled his shirt all the way up to his mouth, forcing him to bite onto the fabric as his belly and chest exposed themselves to you with the prettiest subtle bounces. They had been freshly worked out, skin glistening and glowing from his sweat. Each form of his pecs and the round firmness of his tummy was detailed enough to make you admire it even more than when it would naturally be while relaxed.

Every side of him was attractive, whether or not he worked out, but the view of his exposed body made your core tingle with delight.

Tracing a finger up his stomach, you felt up his skin until the dip of his chest. His cleavage was extra prominent, especially in the way you squeezed his body between your own and the wall. You played with the space before your fingers settled on pinching his nipple.

Of course, you were aware of his sensitivity around his chest, and that made you intentionally tease him even more.

Changbin let out a muffled cry, drool pooling in the fabric of his shirt where his mouth clamped on it. You still held him up, but this time, you adjusted your hold by throwing his leg up and over your arm. He shuddered at the action and then at the realization of what was to come.

Before he could even think, your finger dug into his exposed asshole, and prodded it open.

Changbin bit down and cried, writhing in your arm and attempting to grab anything. He settled on holding onto your shoulders as he felt your finger enter him even deeper.

His cock seemed to move painfully on its own. It twitched rapidly as the heavy dick was left unattended but his ass clenched around you in the same way.

Figuring that your boyfriend already had enough stimulation going on in your little game, you decided to make it worse by sucking on the nipple you pinched earlier.

At this point, Changbin’s mind had gone completely hazy, all thoughts fogged out as he could only focus on the pleasure on opposite ends of his body. Your tongue swirled around his hardened nipple as your lips sucked around the skin of his tit. Your finger was joined by another digit, slowly going as to let him adjust to the sensations. His prostate was getting violated, used, and abused, but it only spurred the both of you on to keep going.

And then you went merciless on him.

Your fingers curled against his sweet spot before getting pulled away, only to push back as soon as Changbin attempted to whine; his subconscious obedience proved itself to manifest as he dropped the bratty act and kept his mouth clamped around his shirt. He made muffled noise after muffled noise, tearing up and drooling, wishing for his cock to be satisfied. He was close, dangerously so, and you could feel it in the way his balls started to grow heavy against your wrist.

Denying him relief, you moved on to suck on his other nipple, picking up the pace in which you fingered your boyfriend.

He threw his head back against the mirror with a loud thud but he could care less. Your other arm’s hold around his body kept him in place but also flexed enough to make him feel all of you.

Maybe it was subconscious possessiveness. Maybe it was the need to keep his melting body up. Maybe it was the lone sensation of being surrounded by muscles and also being penetrated by muscles that made Changbin—

“No, you’re not cumming yet baby.”

Your lips left his chest with a pop and your big boyfriend ducked his head in response. You pulled the shirt off his mouth and dragged it down while your other arm set him down on the ground.

Still shaky, Changbin grew confused and frustrated — not at you, but at the denial of relief once more.

“Time to show your strength Bin. Show me what you got—”

Changbin hastily pinned your body to the mirror wall as well, breathing heavily while holding your body by the hip.

Just as you held him practically with one arm only, he did the same, this time using the other to pull your own bottoms down to reveal your ass.

“Please, Y/N, p-please, ‘m so needy.” Changbin was out of breath, brain still jumbled from being fucked mercilessly in the ass. “Can’t take…anymore…please, please…”

He mustered up every single bit in him to form sentences. The poor thing’s bicep wrapped around your ass as if he could never let you go. “Wanna fuck coach, please, let me fuck you.”

It would’ve been a grave sin to detach from you at any moment. His hunger for your body had grown past his primal instinct and now he had been craving you like crazy.

“What’s gotten you so horny?” You had to ask, shocked at the drooling, sweating, blushed-up mess of a man that you still proudly call yours.

“Couldn’t…stop staring at you. Since earlier. S-Since last night. Since yesterday. Couldn’t get my mind off you.” The words that fell from his mouth graced your ears as slowly as possible yet tasted sweeter than ever.

Praises and worship left his mouth at a rapid rate as he felt up your body lazily with his free hand. “You’re just…so strong…Y/N, you drive me crazy.” Changbin kissed any inch of skin he could get. “I really love you, you know that?”

“Of course. I love you too and you are mine.”

Your response made Changbin shiver, evident in the breathy whine he let out. “I promise I’ll be your baby b-bunny forever. Your strong bunny.” Your boyfriend shook as his mouth left love bites on your neck. “I’m obsessed with you, I love you, I love you, I—”

You shushed your boyfriend’s mindless mumbling with a deep kiss, one that Changbin had been craving for hours. He relished in anything that was you, felt like you, tasted like you, and he couldn’t bear to bring out the bratty act once you finally planted your lips on his.

Sighing into your mouth, he shuddered, leaning into your touch and pouting again to receive more of your love. You smiled in response, teasing ever so slightly, before returning the favor with a dart of your tongue.

Changbin’s arms shot up to hold onto you for support, the strong man crumbling under you. What was better was that you held him up, your own arms circling his body again, the grip from every inch of your body around his putting him steadily in his place.

Then you squeezed.

“Fuck, coach, you—” Then you pinned him down on the bench. “Y/N!”

“Hush, boy, aren’t you so excited?” You chuckled as you repositioned yourself and him. “Wanna fuck your coach so bad?”

“Please! Please, I tried to be good!”

Adjusting your hold on him, you gently laid him down on the bench and abandoned your bottoms completely. “Aw. Not so much of a brat now, are you?” You shuffled your hips to hover over his thick, desperate cock.

“Deep down you’re just a pathetic little boy, yeah?”

“Y-Yeah,” Changbin whimpered mindlessly. “Couldn’t be a brat!”

All you could do was laugh while lining up the entrance of your ass with his tip. “So why’d you try?”

“Because…” He choked on the lump in his throat.“Y-You’re so hot when you’re strict, Y/N…”

You shoved your ass down onto his cock in one fell swoop, enveloping your boyfriend whole.

It was known ever since the beginning that he loved anal; your first bit of sex in the very same gym was telling enough, but he loved giving and receiving in both ways. He loved the dirtiness but also the fact that the both of you prepare and clean yourselves well for it “just in case” it comes up.

This scene was one of those emergency moments that you were glad you both prepared for. Otherwise, you would’ve had the worst time adjusting to Changbin’s sheer girth.

His size was something he had never truly believed to be astounding, but even with your strength, you couldn’t help but lose a bit of yourself to it. The girth was to die for: even if his cock didn’t reach deep, it was heavy, loaded, and big enough to stretch your ass wide. As you lifted your ass before slamming it back down, the feeling of your behind being opened and filled despite the tightness felt amazing.

Changbin felt like crying at your first strokes. He always loved it when you two fucked or made love, but shit, he basically edged himself the whole time in the gym. He had never done such a thing, most especially while putting up a brat act, but every single morsel of thought flew right out of his head as your ass picked up the pace and took him whole.

Somehow, you’d both become sopping wet as you both met in the middle once, twice, thrice, four times — you’d lost count, unable to keep the seconds and rounds of body slamming as you would’ve earlier.

You couldn’t help but moan from the pleasure, making Changbin hold you using all of his limbs with the last bits of strength in him. The both of you knew that he wouldn’t last.

A heat was pooling in your stomach as well, sliding all the way down to your crotch just in front of your ass. While his cock hit the sweet spot in your hole over and over, you could feel your own orgasm building quickly alongside your boyfriend’s.

Neither of you could care less about the mess you were about to make.

Quickly picking up the pace, you slammed your hips down over and over again and pressed your hands against his chest, rubbing his nipples and soothing the sore muscle. The stimulation grew far too much and too fast, but Changbin was so lost in the ecstasy that he couldn’t complain, and he grew so physically tired that he couldn’t hold you off.

Despite the hurt in his cock he still didn’t want to stop you.

“S-So fucking…close…holy shit, Y/N, gonna cum!”

“Cum inside me,” you demanded.

Fully shaking, Changbin dug his fingers into your thighs with all his remaining might and held you in place, shooting load after load from his poor, aching cock deep into your plush walls.

He was so warm, his release filling you with a certain nastiness that you loved so much. You could tell how much he saved all of it from the amount he shot into you. It even started spilling despite the fact that you stilled in place, unable to move from the force of his hands pulling you down. Maybe his training on the pulldowns earlier helped him with it.

But you were both far from done.

You kissed Changbin on his plush lips and sighed in faux contentment. “Binnie baby, you filled me well…” He could only mouth “thank you” in reply.

Then you pulled his sore body up after pushing yourself off his sore cock. “But I want more.”

His eyes widened in a mix of surprise and fear at the prospect of you using his spent cock more than he intended. This might’ve been the punishment he wanted, but it was nothing like what he’d expected.

Making matters worse, you sat behind him and suddenly wrapped your arm around his neck. The other hand found his cock and both arms squeezed, locking Changbin in your hold.

The boy moaned the loudest he had ever done in his entire life.

“Gonna fuck you like this,” you said as you pumped his cock at a rapid pace, “I’ll milk you dry.”

Your words left Changbin gasping, moaning, whimpering, and whining like a trapped dog. The tears in his eyes flooded down as he struggled to adjust in your arms, but god, you were far stronger than you displayed earlier. He barely had any strength left to push you off, to wiggle out, to even form a coherent enough sentence or word.

Was it bad that he liked it this way?

Changbin could only tremble. He moaned your name deliciously over and over as your hand pumped his fat cock from the tip all the way down to his balls at a breakneck pace. You softened the headlock slightly to make him breathe, but the flexing of your forearm drove your boyfriend past the point of self-control. He was overstimulated in every single way.

Again, it was the strength display. The fact that you were putting such a huge man like him in his place. You rendered him unable to function, tired him out until he became putty in your arms, and now you had him caged like a real rat. You flexed your forearm again and Changbin let out a severely choked out whimper.

He couldn’t take it anymore. He came non-stop with his head rolled back to your shoulder, curly bangs covering the fucked-out face he gave you from the sheer amount of pleasure.

Overstimulation sent him over the edge though, making him cum again and again. You could even feel the vein on his cock pop and pulsate under your palm. The lone fact that it only seemed to soften after a few more shots of cum on Changbin’s own belly and on your hand made you feel powerful.

“My tamed brat, my good boy.”

The praise made Changbin see stars. You saw the hearts in his eyes as he struggled to look back at you.

Wholly dumb and unable to move, your boyfriend simply lay in your arms and you both sat there for a moment. You pet Changbin’s fluffy hair with one arm and rubbed his belly with the other, playing with the cum on his tummy before you two shifted in your seats.

A year or so ago, you two had been in the same dilemma and position as you were. You and Changbin were both sweaty and exhausted, his head rested on your shoulder, unable to move. The both of you relished in the glow of being fucked nasty in the gym with your clothes barely hanging onto your bodies, soiled with sweat and cum — it sounded disgusting, but it was the reality that you two had to face with your puffy cheeks.

Lord knows how agonizing the cleanup would’ve been if you weren’t going to do it with your boyfriend at least.

Guilty at the mess he made, Changbin kissed your face everywhere and mumbled to “take care of it” as he attempted to stand up — only to groan in pain after the soreness hit all of his muscles at once. You laughed and supported his weight with your own. Unable to register how you’re still managing, you guided him up and took mops, towels, and bottles of isopropyl alcohol.

Everyone knew you two were lovebirds, but nobody could use this room after you tainted it with an atmosphere of pure sin.

It’s funny though, you thought; Changbin’s goofy self returned in full force, albeit in a tired body, but still entertained you enough to keep your spirits up while cleaning the room. He hummed, giggled at you, nudged his face into your arm, and even sniffed at you as a joke.

It was your silly signal to take a break in a shower together within the adjacent locker rooms that, somehow, were empty then.

Perfectly enough, you two took a single stall together and showered together just as you two were accustomed to doing. This time was a little more special, the deja vu of the first meeting settling in as you happily scrubbed your boyfriend’s once-sweaty scalp. He was too tired to do it to himself he returned the favor by cleaning you too. The rest of the shower was quiet save for a few “I love you’s” and light chuckles.

He gave your back a peck before drying it, relishing in your natural scent and the aroma of the post-shower lotion. You dressed him up in your extra clothes the same way that he dressed you up too, feeling at home even in a slightly public space.

Home was wherever Changbin was, in the same way, you were his home as well.

Back to the reality of the messy room, you handed him a mop and he grimaced.

“Hey, Y/N, slap my wrist next time I try to act bratty. That’s not really me.”

Your reaction must’ve been funny, as your face earned Changbin a hearty giggle.

“Then who might this just-as-handsome asshole-ish guy be?”

“I’m thinking Changbin would be a fitting name.”

“Ew.” You grimaced in the same way he did earlier. “And you should be jealous of him?”

“Nah. ‘Cause I know you love The Seo Changbin only.”

You snorted at him and threatened to swipe his leg with the mop. He laughed and snorted back. He liked the idea of poking fun at you with his own name so much that he pulled it thrice.

“Say, I owe you dinner tonight, right bun?” He huddled closer to you, the comfortable distance only growing warmer. It was touching to know that he remembered your silly claim from earlier, softening your heart. You got excited to listen as his ideas for hearty food were always right, a privilege you unlocked by having a lifestyle journalist wrapped around your finger.

“Mhmm. Gotta heal from that ass-kicking I gave you.” You bumped the side of your hip onto him, but he blushed as the slight memory of half an hour ago flashed before his eyes.

“Anyway! I know a cozy restaurant just downtown that serves banger seafood. It’s the side branch of that beachside bar I told you about.” Changbin went on to describe his recommendation.

Your eyes lit up at the idea. “Wow, your lifestyle writing really takes you places, huh?”

“Yeah, but actually,” Changbin raised his index finger, “I discovered it through my side gig’s talent, Chan—I mean CB.”

You paused and raised an eyebrow back. “…Interesting. Tell me about it.”

“How about I just show you?”

As if on cue, you both heard a punch, then a comically loud groan that sounded like Minho. Following it was an even louder apology from Chris. The other end of the gym must’ve been busier than you two, you thought.

The laughs that escaped both of your chests filled the air of the private room. It was one of many beats in your relationship that you shared with him often but it’s still an unconfined joy to have with him. You could live in the banter and tiny conversations forever, even the bratty behavior he displayed only cemented how much you loved the man even if he made your heart burn and filled your ass up.

Brats used to be off-limits until you brought him to his limit, and now it’s all you could ever think about.

Changbin expected punishment but only got rewarded with your love and warmth in the end. It’s a mission he successfully failed and a game you aimlessly won.

As you two walked out of the fitness center, wobbling in your steps back to the car, you fought over who’d be the driver. You won again, and Changbin fell asleep angelically in the backseat. At least then you’d wake him up with the hearty meal he recommended.

Even after all this time, your client — and boyfriend — never changed the love he had, has, and always will have for you. He might as well renew his gym subscription under your name even after the gym closes.

taglist: @toastyseungmo @hobihearteu @biddes-enthusiast @snow-pegasus @subby-kpop @myrandomthoughtsandhobbies @eggielix @turnipfizzle @hanniecheesecake @chrisbahng @laylasbunbunny @ppiri-bahng @he-they-heathen @chriscentric @svintsandghosts @starryoong @bbyquokka @abiaswreck @suengmi @fun-fanfics @fairylouist + @stupidshitsworld @compersian @skz-hell @certifiedwootiny @xcookiemonsteer @lino-jagiyaa @imrllytootiredforthis @straykidsholicleigh @wonhosmistress @fruitcakebin @jisvngc0re1 @silentreadersthings

very special mentions to @meivida for proofreading and editing my fic (and for indulging in my nonsense). please wish them good health this year!

header art is mine! have a great new year everybody :))

thank you for reading ! consider reblogging and leaving feedback if you loved my work 💗 artwork and writing © ipegchangbin. no reposts and translations.

[simpxxstan]

i’ve just finished reading your wonwoo!fics from the 550 followers event and i decided i need to request something myself because they were just TOO GOOD

given that, i thought about police officer!wonwoo (or mingyu, i wouldn’t mind—) who’s like super handsome and hot and all but also super nice and helpful and loves cats and—

and maybe he’s living in the same neighbourhood as y/n and they just feel drawn towards each other? idk, i’m not really good at making up scenarios 😭😭

it can go both ways, starting fluffy and then get smutty or angsty, everything’s gonna be fine <3

all i know is that i need to read something from you again 🫶🏼🫶🏼

THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST! so firstly, I apologise if I disappoint you because instead of wonu, I did mingyu, because I had this wildest fantasy about him but I hope you like it still!! And I also added a few twists in the plot, because I wanted to spice it up a bit. I really pray you'll enjoy my version too!

this is part of my 550 followers celebration event! find the rest of the content of this event here!

also, thank you to everyone who's interacted with the event <333 your enthusiasm is so so much appreciated! the event is still on till the end of this month so you can still send in requests, my inbox is open hehe :) also to those who have sent in requests, T_T i am SOR SORRY for making you wait but honestly i am trying my best :((( i will answer your request as soon as i can, thank you for your patience <3

genre: strangers to lovers, police and criminal au, smut, fluff, neighbours au

word count: 5k words

warnings: 18+ NSFW MINORS DO NOT INTERACT police officer!mingyu, discussions of illegal racing, gangs, criminals, criminal activities, gambling (but nothing is explicit except the racing activities). smut warnings: unprotected sex (please please do not do this irl), almost public sex, oral (m. receiving), making out, usage of pet names, size kink, mingyu's a perv for reader

It's been six months since Mingyu has shifted to this town, and he's not regretted it a single day. it's a wonderful, quaint little town, on the edge of the city, that's close enough to the hustle but far enough to not be a site for trouble. The people are lovely and they've really accepted him with a full heart- the old ladies who bring him their delicious cooked food during his lunch breaks, the young boys who follow his gym routine meticulously, the mothers who either shamelessly flirt with him or try to set up their children with him, the fathers who pat his back proudly after a long day of work, the children who run around his clean police station with curious eyes.

After his busy five years in his posting at the city, this feels like heaven to him. He had joined the force in his craving for adrenaline and his innate nature of being helpful to everyone had driven him deeper into the profession. But he's twenty-seven now, and maturity has dampened the fire within his soul, although not his desire for social peace and justice- hence his choice to shift here.

It's not a town renowned for crime, and most of his days are peaceful with minor reports of petty theft or pickpocketing. But Mingyu has his fair share of excitement- being on the outskirts of the city, the edges of the town are less tame than the heart of it. It's a den for many gangs- all linked by the illegal racing grounds outside the town. Mingyu doesn't have any way to reach the gangs- they're being pursued by the force in the bigger cities with far more resources than sanctioned to his police station. But he tries to ensure the gangs and their dirty business doesn't get into his town. And Mingyu has his hands full with it.

But being busy keeps Mingyu happy. He's loved by the townsfolk and he's found a kind of peace here, different and yet beautiful. It's a slow town, and he's fallen into a routine that's good for his slowing-down body and his slowing-down mind.

So it's been a long, long day of work and at the end of the week, he's tired and ready to fall into his bed after eating anything that's in the fridge. But when he's walking up the stairs of his apartment building, his eyes meet a scene that's out of routine.

"Hello? Can I help you?" Mingyu walks up quickly as he sees you struggle to pull up two suitcases up the stairs, along with the clearly heavy rucksack on your back. "No! Thanks, no, I'm fine." "Please allow me, I live right here on this floor." And Mingyu casually picks up the suitcases, with a smile on his face. He doesn't miss the ways your body relaxes instantly and your eyes light up. "Umm, I'm here on this floor too. Just moved in into 309." "And I'm in 311. Right across your flat!" "I'm so happy to meet a neighbour already. I'm Y/N." "And I'm Mingyu."

And Mingyu feels the exhaustion of the day wear out when he sees your whole smile- not a tight-lipped smile, but the one that shows your teeth and your dimples. Well, dimple. There's only one big dimple on your left cheek, and it's a beautiful smile that stays on Mingyu's mind long through the night after you disappear into your flat and Mingyu goes into his own.

_

Mingyu doesn't know why he's suddenly choosing to skip his daily gym routine in favour of a run through the town at 5.30 am (nearly an hour before he's ever woken up in his entire life). Maybe one day he wakes up at 5.30 to use the washroom but spots you leave the building in your jogging shorts and earplugs. He joins the dots and his body joins them too- safe to say, he couldn't sleep again that morning. And neither the morning after that, because he's determined to join you on your run.

You don't talk much except brief interactions, and your speed is much faster than him, but he doesn't mind the exhaustion. The wink you throw him every time he lags behind and the bottle of water you offer him right after you drink from it too is enough motivation for him to keep running. Of course it helps that you compliment the way his muscles strain through his tank top and Mingyu's chest blows up even further with pride.

And it's so subtle, but Mingyu feels you slowly open up more to him.

It's in the won't you come in for coffee? I make a mean iced coffee.

It's in the I was shopping for groceries and brought you cooking oil, since you were asking for it yesterday. I thought you may not have had the time to go for shopping, since you're so busy at work.

It's in the see this magnet? my baby cousin made it.

And Mingyu goes to you like a moth drawn to a flame. He's drawn to you when he decides to take you out (for a friendly afternoon outing, he calls it officially, but internally he's treating it as a date). He's drawn to you when you show him around the veterinary where you work. He's drawn to you when he sees you eating ice cream on his couch after he's cooked dinner for the two of you. He's drawn to you when you barely touch his arm and tell him that you really like all your neighbours and the entire community in the town is great, but you're especially glad to have found Mingyu because he's one of the only people here who's near your age. And he's drawn to you when you smile for him, that rich, dimpled smile, after he tells you that you're exactly the friend he's been looking for since he's come here.

After that, Mingyu doesn't know what happens in what order. Do you kiss him first? Or does he kiss you first? Do you climb into his lap? Or does he pull you onto him? Do you bite his lip when his hands wander down to your ass that he's been eyeing for weeks now on every morning run? Or does he bite your lip when your hands weave through his hair? It's a blur, and when you pull back for a breath, your lips swollen, the first button of your shirt open, and a hickey already blooming near your collarbone, Mingyu knows only one thing. How he wants. Wants you. Wants more. Wants now-

"Mingyu, I- I don't know how to say this... it's not like I didn't like this. And I- I- umm. Maybe I should leave? Because if I stay I won't be able to hold back and I want to think about this a little bit?"

And oh, your eyes are so wide and so pretty, and the skin of your arms feel like butter under his touch, but he lets you go. He lets you walk away, a shy smile on your lips. He lets you kiss him on his cheek once before disappearing into your own flat, and Mingyu shuts the door and takes deep breaths as he leans on his door.

He's ready to give you all the time in the world to think, but he's sure that he's already yours. He just knows at the end of it, he needs to make you his too.

_

"Hello, darling."

The tone on the other end is unmistakable, and Mingyu sighs. "Don't try to seduce me, love. It's not gonna work." He's said this before, but the message clearly hasn't gotten through. The honey voice drawls on in a painfully slow pace, "You're late tonight. What's up?" "I was busy," he huffs, his heart still beating fast from making out with you a few minutes ago.

"Busy? Unbelievable." "A police officer can't be busy? Is it so unfathomable?" "No. What's unfathomable is that Kim Mingyu is off his routine. I wonder if there's something new... or someone new?"

The voice laughs, and Mingyu knows it's friendly prodding. His relationship with the person on the other side of the line might be anything but friendly but it's yet again become a part of his routine, and at least the friendly banter breaks the monotony.

"Are you jealous that I talk to women apart from you?" Mingyu smirks, knowing two can play this game.

"I'm jealous that she's taking up my time. You have to show her what's her place, really."

"Don't be rude love. You know I've got my ears on your voice only. Now, tell me if you have any news."

"Oh, getting straight to the point, I see..."

"Oh come on!"

The voice becomes serious instantly. Gone is the sexy drawl, and it's replaced by crisp words that are music to Mingyu's ears. "I've heard Taffy's gang making some noise in the borders. You might wanna come and look at it once for yourself."

"Do you have any more information?"

"Nothing much right now, officer. Look, I'm holding up my end of the bargain but you've got to be patient."

Mingyu groans. It's not good news, and it's certainly not enough news. But he'll take a look himself to make sure he understands the graveness of the situation correctly.

"Okay. When should I come? Tell me when Taffy's men are lurking around the area?"

The voice shifts again into a teasing, seductive tone, making Mingyu jerk at the sudden transition.

"Come tomorrow? Race night."

"Yeah no that's not happening. I'll-"

"Tomorrow, babe. Wanna see you race. A big boy like you likes his fast bikes, don't you?"

The thought of racing sends a spike of adrenaline rushing through his veins, but he knows this is illegal. It's one thing allowing the leader of the races to become his informant so that he can keep an eye on the circuit as well as get key pieces of information that remain hidden to the legal eye. But it's an entirely different thing getting into the centre of the mess himself and be involved in it.

And yet, a part of him wants to feel the thrill again. Tonight, after years, he felt that adrenaline rushing through him when you'd tugged at his collar and kissed him repeatedly. Fuck. It had felt good, hadn't it? One night won't matter, will it?

"I'll be there."

"Fantastic. Can't wait to see you, babe."

_

Mingyu doesn't see you the next morning. He waits outside your door at 5.30, but doesn't knock, hoping you'll come out eventually. But you don't. He doesn't spot you through the rest of the day either, and it makes him worry. But he's decided to give you your space and time, so he will be patient... at least for one more day.

It's a Sunday so Mingyu has a half-day at work. When he's back from work, his mind is still all over the place. Should he even go to the race tonight? He's raced a bit back in college days, but everything pretty legal. Nothing like the den of vice he knows he's going to walk into tonight. But he also knows that this is the best way for him to infiltrate through the layers of middlemen that stop information from reaching his ears.

By the time 8.30 comes around, there's no text from you. Instead, there's a text from his informant, saved under the codename of layla (he knows it's not her real name, but he doesn't care enough to ask about it).

I'll see you at the circuit tonight, darling. Don't be late.

Mingyu's heart speeds up. Is it wrong to feel excited right now? As a conscientious police officer, he should definitely not feel excited. But as nothing more than a man, he feels his blood become warm at the thought of meeting the woman behind that voice he's spoken to for almost three months now. He's almost 100% sure the voice isn't generated by a voice modifier or AI, but it's also impossible for that to be someone's real voice, so there must be some pitch changes or something along those lines. Nevertheless, their conversations has often made him wonder about the woman herself.

She's a shadow- no one really knows who she is. But about four months ago, when she'd called him up herself to supply information in order to buy protection for herself and her racing infrastructure, Mingyu had yielded instantly by weighing his priorities. And since then, he's tried endless times to put a face to the voice, but it's been a search in vain.

Not tonight.

Tonight, he's gonna see the face for himself and put all his wandering thoughts to rest. Thoughts late at night after a particularly long phone call with his informant, that made him wonder whether the flirting was real or all for show. Wonder whether the woman herself would be as sexy as the voice. And wonder what kind of woman she must be in order to be capable enough to singlehandedly run an entire illegal racing system.

Fuck it, Mingyu thinks, after seeing the clock strike 8.45 and still no contact from your end. He wears a black tank top along with a black leather jacket- intending to fit right into the crowd he expects to see there. He just hopes there's no one else there who'll recognise him. And he certainly hopes nothing will happen to make him regret this decision for life.

_

You're such a fool, Mingyu, he thinks to himself. You're such a fool for thinking you'd fit in.

Mingyu may be just twenty-seven but he doesn't feel young at all when he sees the crowd at the race. The people here must be of his age, but they all seem so different from him. Perhaps it's because his job has taken away his youth that he'll always feel perpetually distant from even people of his own age.

And so Mingyu stands there awkwardly, stiff amidst a crowd of half-drunk and half-high people, wearing colourful headbands and smearing eclectic neon colours on their skin. He feels out of place- and yet, a part of him wishes he could fit in. He wishes he could have enjoyed his youth like this- on the edge of the other side of the law. He wishes he could have lived like this for even moment of his life- beyond academics, beyond career, beyond mere survival.

"Hi beautiful, looking for someone?" A woman with a cigarette between her fingers strolls up to him. Her hair is flying in the wind, exposing the tattoos all over her skin.

Before Mingyu can say anything, the crowd around him suddenly erupts in loud cheers, and she quickly pulls his hand and drags him towards the centre of the entire crowd. He sees two bikers mount on their bikes- exquisitely reworked to glow in the dark. A woman hops up on a platform in the middle of the two bikers and lifts a gun towards the sky. And as the crowd counts down, she shoots the gun right after 1 and the two bikers zoom out into the blackness ahead, the crowd going wild with cheers for the biker they support.

The scene makes Mingyu's skin feel alive too- the sheer speed of the two bikes, the sound of the engines revving and the general merriness around him induces adrenaline to flow through his veins. When he turns to look at the woman next to him, he sees her looking at him with a curious smile on her face. "Umm, I'm... I'm not really here for the race."

"You're not? Layla told me you would be." The smile on her face deepens, and Mingyu gasps. "You know Layla?" "I do. But that's not important. Let's get you on a bike, hmm?" Mingyu's somehow missed to noticed how her hand's still on his arm, gently stroking his bicep over his jacket. "No, really I don't want to." She steps right up close to him, "But you can try once, pretty boy." Her eyelashes cast long shadows on her cheeks, but Mingyu doesn't care. "I don't want to try." "Let loose for one night." "I'm not here for fun. I'm here for work-" The woman in front of his laughs. "Yes Layla said that too. Don't worry, she's going to work. But only after you race against her."

Mingyu feels his heart speed up. Race against Layla? Fuck. Now, why does that sound so tempting? It makes him only more curious to meet his informant, because why must she make herself so mysterious?

"Are you her friend?" Mingyu knows that this woman is not Layla, because the voice doesn't match by miles. This woman here has a lisp in her voice, unlike Layla's clear diction, and no amount of pitch changing or machine alterations can change that (Mingyu knows that the hard way).

"I'm her sister. Well, kind of. Now, no more questions pretty boy. Next race starts in a few minutes. Let's get you on a bike!" And Mingyu finds himself in no position to protest as the woman drags him away without hearing him anymore.

_

In the blink of an eye, Mingyu finds himself on a beautiful beast of a motorbike, his entire body drunk on adrenaline. There's so many people he's never even met before, but they're hyping him up. The attention-whore in him goes crazy at the cheers. There's coloured smoke being released into the sky, and Mingyu wears his helmet to prevent it from clouding his eyes. And finally when the smoke fades away, he sees his opponent standing along side him.

Layla.

Fuck.

Still no face to the voice in his head, but it's still an enigmatic visual that draws Mingyu in and reels his mind. He watches the way her black latex pants hug her long legs as she swings her legs over her bike. And he watches the way her helmet covers her face but her hair's still flying in the air. There's something still mysterious about her, and yet so oddly familiar.

But before he can say or do anything, the crowd begins the countdown, and in a second, the gunshot goes off. And Mingyu zooms ahead, revving his engine from 0 to 100 in a moment, a smile spreading on his face as the excitement of the speed injects itself in his veins. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices Layla take a spin around the corner of the racetrack, her stable figure undeterred by the sharp turn. Mingyu may not be a professional, but it's not the first time he's racing. He's done this before and he can feel that familiar thrill returning, as he picks up speed and makes up his mind to defeat his worthy opponent.

It's a long and winding course, but to Mingyu it feels like a few minutes only. The cold night air hits his body and makes him feel like he's flying. Soon the ending flag is in sight, and he sees Layla speed up, hunching over her bike, determined to get there first.

But at the last minute, she steps back, her posture loosening as she sits back and watches Mingyu whizz off ahead of her.

Fuck, he mutters under his breath. Knowing she let him win easily hurts his ego, and he slows the bike down as they drive into the nothingness of the deserted roads ahead. When he finally comes to a stop, he gets off the bike and sees her stand a few metres away from him, her helmet still on her head stretching her legs.

"Hey! Layla! You let me win! I would've won anyway- fair and sq-"

Layla spins around and takes off her helmet, her hair whipping across her face, and Mingyu finally sees the face behind the voice.

_

"Y/N?" Mingyu's eyes are wide, his brain running as fast as his bike was a short while back, as he tries to connect the dots.

The voice is unmistakable, now slightly higher in pitch, and Mingyu wants to kick himself as he realises how big a fool he's been. "We finally meet, Kim Mingyu." There's a beautiful smile on your face, one he's not seen before. There are other things too- there's a nose pin on your button nose, making your features look sharper, and a necklace hanging off your neck, which is odd since he's never seen you wear jewellery before.

"Y/N? H- wh- how?!"

You don't answer him. You simply walk towards him, your hips swaying and Mingyu groans at the sight of your pretty legs in those tight pants. Fuck him for not recognising that ass sooner in spite of being obsessed with it for weeks.

"I thought I should come clean to you, officer, before you make any choices." You casually slot yourself between his legs, as Mingyu leans back against his motorbike. "What do you think?"

What does he think?

He thinks he's a fool for not finding out more about you before falling for you. He thinks he's a fool for maintaining a contact with someone as dangerous as La- you. And he thinks he's a fool for finding you even sexier after discovering this persona of yours.

And he thinks he would be a fool with regrets for all his life if he lets go of you now.

So Mingyu grabs onto your hips, and pulls you closer.

"You've got me by my balls, baby. Got me eating out of your hand. And you know I happen to like it. So it doesn't matter what I think, love. What matters is what you think." His fingers rub against the skin exposed as your crop top rises up as you dangle your hands around his shoulders. You laugh at his words, pressing even closer to him, the air between you two turning to electricity. "It doesn't matter what I think either- because I'd fallen for you ages ago when I first saw you around in town. The new, dashing police officer, Kim Mingyu, enquiring about gangsters and fending himself off prying old ladies at the same time. Since then I've just wanted to make you mine." Mingyu's heart hasn't stopped thumping loudly all night, and at your confession, his body tingles with a dangerous feeling.

"Glad we're on the same page, baby."

_

"This is my office," you whisper to him in between kisses as you drag him to a shady-looking room at the back of the building that's on the edge of the racing circuit, now deserted because everyone's busy at the races. "Office?" Mingyu giggles, because the term is ridiculous. The place is anything but an office- with the way dishevelled boxes are just stacked everywhere, and instead of desks there are more pool tables and boxes of alcohol. It's a small, dingy place, and the single tubelight at the end of the corridor flickers every other minute, but it's a vibe. Mingyu's not unfamiliar with seedy places in his line of work, but it's so novel to think this is where you truly work.

But fuck him if he doesn't think it just makes you hotter. Because there's something about you being the boss of a pack of hundred delinquents associated with even more hardened criminals that makes his dick chub up real quick.

Like it is right now, when your hands make quick work of removing his jacket and throwing it on the floor as you touch his bare muscle. Mingyu carelessly runs a hand through his hair as he sees you push him onto a chair on a desk that's in your office, the room lit only by the mercy of the distant tubelight and the moonlight streaming in through the window panes. "Fuck, you're so big Mingyu. Let me blow you? Please? Wanted to do this for so long." Your eyes are so pretty as you bend in front of him, fingers lazily rubbing into the tent in his pants, making him hiss. "Go on, baby. Whatever you like. Fuck, but kiss me once more."

And you do. You taste like berries, and Mingyu loves it. Mingyu knows he's got it bad, but he doesn't care. You're on your knees and you want to blow him, and if this isn't the mental image to which he's jerked off for days now, he'd be damned. So he pushes you down in between his knees after kissing you to his heart's content, and you quickly take off his pants. "God," you almost drool and Mingyu whimpers when you take off his boxers too. "You're so fucking big, Gyu. Never seen such a big, pretty cock," you say reverently, as you pump it and it twitches in your hands. Your eyes go wide when you lick it and fit your mouth barely against the tip, and Mingyu throws his head back and moans. He's not going to last long, if just this much has got him feeling like this.

Thankfully, you don't tease him much, eager to feel the heavy weight on your tongue too. So you take him as much as your throat allows, and Mingyu feels himself on the brink of heaven. When you bob your head a couple of times, Mingyu reaches down to tug your hair back and you moan around his cock. The vibrations send him over, and he cums into your mouth even as you continue to suck him. When you finally pull off with a pop, another squirt from his dick leaves a string of white cum on your lips and Mingyu feels himself getting hard again.

"That was so hot baby. You're so hot," he says, as he picks you up from the floor and on the desk. It's so easy for him to manhandle you like that, and you pull him close quickly. "You're hotter, Gyu. Can't tell you what fantasies I've had about you in these last few months." Mingyu smirks, his hands removing your beautiful pants, and spreading your thighs apart as he feels his way through your folds. "Umm? Really? Now don't be a bad girl, and tell me what you've thought about me."

You open your mouth to say something but then Mingyu pinches your clit, and any words fall away as you moan out loudly. Your hands steady themselves on his biceps as Mingyu begins to finger you painfully slowly- to the extent that he can hear the squelching sounds, and it drives him crazy.

"Tell me, Y/N."

When your breathing slows down as you feel Mingyu driving two fingers into you at a steady pace, his eyes fixed on yours, biting his lip in concentration, you tell him softly.

"Before I shifted into the flat... I wondered what you'd be like from up close. Because I'd only seen you from afar. And after hearing your v- aaah- voice, it just got worse." You feel Mingyu stretching you, hitting your g-spot repeatedly as he kissed your neck.

"And then when I did shift in... fuck. It was so hard to not give in to you. Whenever you looked at me with your puppy eyes and y- y- your smile- ah, fuck I'm g- gonna cum, Mingyu!" You scream as he fingers you through your orgasm, and he licks his fingers clean once you come down from your high.

"Then who asked you to not give in to me?"

"I wanted to make sure you'd like me in real life and not judge me simply as an informant." Your simple, vulnerable words take his breath away, and Mingyu pulls off your top in one go. "Fuck, you're so cute baby. I'd like you in every form, in every life. You drive me crazy, do you know that?" And Mingyu knows that now, as you hold on to his shoulders as he enters you in one go. "God, you're so tight, Y/N. Tighter than your pretty mouth, fuck." He's trying so hard not to cum right now, but as you grip his hair and moan filthily, a stream of curses falling off your pretty lips, Mingyu lets his adrenaline take over. And he thrusts into you without any hesitance, hips moving fast, his balls heavy as he slams against you again and again. The desk creaks, and you pant in his ears, begging him to go harder, and Mingyu can feel the way your pussy clenches him at every thrust.

"Gonna cum, Gyu. Please-" Your nails dig into his nape, and it drives him over the edge. When you come along with him, there's a sharp buzz spreading through his body and he feels like he's gone to heaven.

He holds you close like that for the next few minutes, unable and uninterested in letting you go. When you both finally feel the high subside, you look up at him, a hazy smile on your face. "I really like you, Gyu. I hope you can like me too beyond who I am in this racing circuit. Trust me, it's.... it's not my entire life. I am a person bey-"

He kisses you quiet. "Stop explaining yourself." You try to protest, but he kisses you again. "You know Y/N, I think I liked you from the first day I met you. And I get what you're saying but... trust me. Fuck. I don't know how to say this. But safe to say if I thought you were amazing as Y/N? I think you're absolutely the epitome of perfection as Y/N plus Layla. So hot, so gorgeous, and I love every bit of you."

And then there's that single-dimpled smile again.

"I also like the nose pin. Why'd you take it off?"

You giggle, "Didn't want it to be a deal-breaker once I had my mind set on you."

Mingyu kisses your nose at the pin itself and you shiver in his arms.

"Nothing about you can be a deal-breaker, baby."

[witchywithwhiskey]

Hey hey! How about...

16. trying something new

With...😏

first-time plant parents

pairing: husband!ari levinson x female reader

warnings: domestic fluff, referenced smut (not really 18+ but i'd always rather minors do not interact!), kissing, little bit of dry humping, non-graphic sex, pet names (sunshine)

word count: 1,500ish

a/n: thank you for sending in this prompt Navy!!! i have no excuse for this except i just think starting a vegetable garden with ari would be neat 🤷🏼‍♀️ this is so so so so self-indulgent but i hope y'all enjoy ♡♡

You were surprised by how good it felt to get your hands dirty, your fingers sinking into the rich soil as you scooped some up and patted it down around the tomato seedling you’d just planted. Sitting back on your heels, you looked down the row of tomatoes you’d finished planting, a sense of accomplishment settling deep into your body and making you smile to yourself. 

But it seemed you weren’t the only one to take pride in your efforts, as a warm, familiar voice called, “Lookin’ good, sunshine,” from the other side of the small vegetable garden you and your husband had set up in your backyard. 

Lifting your eyes from the row of tomato seedlings you’d carefully planted, your gaze collided with that of your husband, Ari Levinson, his brilliant blue eyes sparkling in the bright spring sunshine. His grin was wide as he used a hand to push his golden brown hair back from his face, pride and affection shining in his gaze as he looked at you. 

Your smile widened in return, and you raised a hand to shade your eyes so you could see his progress. “How’re the herbs coming?” you asked, your eyes skimming along the basil, rosemary and mint you’d decided to plant. They were in their own planter boxes to ensure they didn’t overrun the garden, and it looked like your husband was done with the task. “They look good.”

You’d never had a vegetable garden before—at least, not one of your own. Your grandmother had one when you were little, your father taking you into the impressively large garden to show you where they’d planted spinach and tomatoes and green beans and rhubarb. 

But with that garden long since gone and both your grandmother and father having passed, you’d told Ari you wanted to try your hand at growing some veggies of your own. Your husband had been excited to try it, even though he had less experience than you.

But he’d jumped into it as eagerly as you, digging up a little plot in your backyard and setting up a fence so that the animals didn’t get to your herbs and veggies. The garden was bigger than the meager crop you’d decided to plant that first year—just the herbs, your tomatoes and some spinach—but Ari said the two of you would grow into it.  

“Do they look as good as your husband?” Ari asked teasingly, drawing you out of your thoughts and back into the moment. 

You couldn’t help but smile as you got to your feet, brushing your hands off on your shorts and picking your way across the garden to your husband. You bent down to look at the planter boxes, making a show of assessing his work in planting the herbs. When you’d drawn it out long enough, you stood back up and looked to your husband, having to stifle a laugh when you saw he’d somehow managed to get streaks of dirt across his forehead.

“They look better than you,” you said, barely contained laughter making your voice waver as you reached up and tried to brush the dirt from Ari’s forehead, asking, “How did you manage to get dirt here?” However, since your hands were also covered in dirt, you only managed to make things worse. Ari laughed at your wince of apology. 

“I think you’ve got a little something, too,” he said playfully, brushing his dirty fingers over the tip of your nose. You were certain you didn’t have any dirt on your nose, which meant he’d just gotten you dirty for no good reason.

Gasping in mock outrage, you jumped back as he reached for your face again, knocking his hand away. “Don’t get me more dirty than I already am!” you cried, but you were laughing as you fended off your husband’s filthy, reaching hands. 

You danced around the garden, trying to avoid Ari and your plants, but after a few moments, you decided to go on the offensive. “Let’s see how you like getting dirty!” you yelled, darting close to your husband and swiping your fingers across Ari’s cheek, leaving behind a new streak of dirt above the line of his beard. 

However, Ari didn’t let you escape, wrapping his strong arms around your waist and hauling you up against his chest. “Do your worst, sunshine,” he challenged, laughing right along with you. 

Since his hands were busy holding onto you and yours were free, you brushed even more dirt on his cheeks, giggling as you got him even dirtier. But it wasn’t long before your giggles died down and the two of you were left pressed against one another, your chests heaving as you caught your breath and stared into each other’s eyes.

You could feel your body warming, which seemed to be a natural reaction to your husband’s closeness, your nipples tightening and heat sinking low to settle in your core. Squirming in Ari’s arms, you could feel your expression change, your eyes turning pleading as an aching need built up in your body.

“Stop looking at me like that, sunshine,” Ari rumbled, a gruff warning in his tone. You could feel his body responding to you, his arousal digging into your belly and making your legs tremble beneath you. “Or I’m liable to take you right here—garden be damned.”

Ari’s words sent new tendrils of heat curling through your body, even as they knocked some sense into you and you managed a playful gasp, pressing a hand to your chest as you pretended to be scandalized. “Not in front of the plants, Ari,” you scolded, your tone more flirtatious than chastising. 

Your husband grinned, squeezing you tighter, and ducked down to capture your lips in a searing kiss that had you melting against his chest. Your fingers dove into Ari’s beard, clinging to him and holding him close while you devoured each other. When you whimpered into the kiss and rocked your body against Ari’s bulge, he pulled away with a groan.

“Sunshine,” he rasped, pressing his forehead to yours and drawing in deep, heavy breaths that pushed his chest against yours in the most delicious way. “If you don’t want our little seedlings exposed to our dirty deeds so early in their lives, you’re gonna have to let me take you inside now,” he murmured in a serious tone, but you could see the corners of his mouth flickering with his need to grin. “Because the idea of seeing you blissed out and satisfied in the garden we made is sounding better by the second.”

“Then take me inside, husband,” you said huskily, a smirk tugging at the edges of your lips, “because you are not fucking me the dirt.”

Wrapping one of his hands around the back of your neck, Ari held you still while he kissed you again, his tongue plundering your mouth until your mind was fuzzy and you’d mostly forgotten where you were. You knew that had been Ari’s intention when his lips trailed along your jaw, nipping and kissing your skin until his mouth brushed the edge of your ear.

“What if I made love to you in the grass?” he rumbled teasingly, bending down to grab your leg and hitch it over his hip so he could press his bulge into the apex of your thighs. His grunt was loud in your ear, but it didn’t drown out the low, filthy moan that slipped from your lips.

Still, you weren’t so far gone that you’d let Ari have his way with you just anywhere. “What about the shower?” you countered, your voice high-pitched and breathy, making your husband chuckle as he kissed down your neck. 

Then you were shrieking in surprise and delight as Ari hauled you off your feet and threw you over his shoulder, carrying you into the house to finish what you’d started. He took you in the shower, the two of you laughing as much as you kissed, taking turns washing the grime of dirt from each other’s skin before sinking into the familiar rhythm of your bodies coming together.

Later, when you were both sated and clean and the sun was sinking lower toward the horizon, you stood in the grass outside the fence of your humble little vegetable garden. Ari stood at your back, his arms circling your waist and holding you close as you both took pride in the work you’d accomplished that day. 

“Do you think we’ll be good first-time plant parents?” you asked softly, your fingers trailing idly through the hair on Ari’s arms. Tilting your head to the side, you wondered if you’d watered the newly transplanted seedlings enough to make the transition easier for them.

“I think we’ll do our best,” Ari murmured, curling his body around yours and pressing a kiss to your temple while he squeezed you tighter in his arms. “I think we’ll give them all the love they need, and I think they’ll flourish because of it.” 

A pleased smile curved your lips and you hummed in agreement, leaning back further against Ari, knowing your husband spoke the truth. After all, you’d done the same with each other—you’d given each other all the love in your hearts and both of you had flourished. Ari was your partner, your husband, the love of your life, and you wouldn’t want to be first-time plant parents with anyone but him.

[devildomwriter]

Mangled Up in Tangled Up Knots | Diavolo x Reader

1K+ words | GN! Reader | CW: none

Summary: Diavolo is good with trees but the lights are a bit beyond him

You were so focused on carefully unwrapping and unboxing the ornaments that you scarcely glanced at the Christmas movie playing.

Diavolo was paying a tad more attention than you as he began to put together the generations-old fake Christmas tree you brought.

You’d been dating a long time now so you finally moved some things into the prince’s room. A few of these things were your traditional Christmas decorations like the polar bear nightlight, Lego nutcracker, light-up llama with a festive scarf, and your old Christmas tree which surprisingly still had needles on it.

Diavolo used his strength to easily correct bent metal branches. They’d caved from the weight of cats and heavy ornaments over the years.

You frowned after finding a broken ornament and set it aside. Diavolo sensed your sadness and looked to see what you’d sat down.

He smiled and with a snap of his fingers, the ornament was in better shape than when you’d first been gifted it. Your eyes sparkled, happy you wouldn’t need to throw something so pretty away.

“Thank you, Dia!” You exclaimed and he smiled and nodded as he sorted the branches by size.

He held two different branches in his hands and looked back and forth between them.

“___?” He asked and you looked up from what you were doing.

“Yeah?”

“Which of these colors is bigger? The brown ones or the teal?”

“Uhh….I think it’s the red ones.”

Diavolo looked it over again and nodded, “Thanks, I believe you’re right.”

You grinned and nodded and began unwrapping more ornaments, setting them into groups based on importance as you weren’t sure you could fit them all on the tree this year.

Diavolo began hooking the tree branches in place and you got to your feet to help him as you enjoyed this part.

You helped keep the tree pole still as he placed the branches in one by one until you were in the way of the bigger bottom ones.

Diavolo stepped back hands on his hips and nodded approvingly at his work.

“I did it, ___! How’s this look?”

“It’s perfect! Now we just have to fluff out the branches.”

“…What?”

You showed him how you moved the tinier branches around so the tree looked fuller and he nodded and began fiddling with it, occasionally itching his arms irritated by the tiny fake pine needles.

“You itch too?”

He laughed and agreed and you both hurriedly fluffed out the tree. Now the metal was barely visible and the tree appeared much more real.

Once again, Diavolo stepped back and nodded proudly. You laughed at how cute it was. Diavolo regularly displayed his magical strength as well as his influence within the realms but he didn’t often have small personal achievements. Doing things all on his own was still a foreign concept he was adapting to, contrarily you were still adapting to having someone else do your chores, cook for you, do your laundry, clean everything. So when you’d show Diavolo how to do these mundane things he was always elated when he pulled it off. Setting up the Christmas tree was another achievement as he’d always had Barbatos do it in past years with excessively large trees.

This tree was perfect for the bedroom you often shared, neatly tucked in the corner without blocking the bathroom or TV, it has its own place to shine.

“Shoot. We still need to do the lights.” You remembered, snapping your fingers like a cartoon character.

Diavolo nodded and opened the box with the lights. He began pulling them out but they were all tangled in knots and he immediately looked to you for help.

You shrugged, “We just have to untangle them. You can use magic.”

“Do you use magic to untangle them?”

“No.”

“Then I don’t need to either.”

You chuckled at his innocent insistence and sat there watching him fiddle with the lights for a good ten minutes, his smile slowly becoming less genuine while doing so.

Finally, he miraculously untangled the lights and immediately asked what to do next.

You showed him how to wrap them around the tree, lightly tossing them onto the branches and spreading them out so there weren’t any gaps in the light. He nodded and plugged the lights in to get a better perspective.

You snuck a photo of your boyfriend holding the glowing lights, it was as cute as it was surprisingly beautiful.

Diavolo began circling the tree with the lights doing as you’d instructed and occasionally looking at the example on his D.D.D.

Without either of you noticing he stepped into a loop of the lights and pulled them with him as he circled the tree. You arched one brow as you realized he felt no resistance due to his strength and was blindly twisting himself up.

“Uh…Diavolo,” you began to speak up when Diavolo stood still and looked down at his legs.

“Oh dear…” he chuckled and quickly began trying to backtrack but he had to be extremely gentle so he wouldn’t break the card with his absurd strength. He looked around more confused as it proceeded to get worse. He threw the remaining lights over his shoulder so he could focus on his feet but now he appeared to have a net thrown over him.

You quickly took another photo and just as you put your D.D.D. away he gave you a childlike frown.

“___…I’m stuck.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your lips. Diavolo protested to being laughed at and pleaded for your help. You quickly came to his aid, telling him to stand still as you unwrapped the lights.

Diavolo sighed in relief and now that he was out of that situation he blushed profusely as you tried to hide your snickers.

“…I think I’ll use magic…” he sighed in defeat and with a twirl of his finger the lights quickly and perfectly rounded the tree.

“That’s amazing, Dia,” you complimented and his embarrassment immediately was replaced by pride.

He hugged you into his side as you looked at the tree you’d put up together. It may have seemed small but in the grand scheme of things, this was the first time you’d put up the family Christmas tree with your future husband. It was a moment you wouldn’t forget, especially with the pictures you took of him.

[dwaekkism0811]

a world of colour

chapter 1

{ reader x seonghwa }

daycare au

ateez members included

single dad hwa, fluff, hurt/comfort, mentions of divorce

. * . * .* . loading . * . * . * .

Waking up in the morning wasn’t always a chore. Usually you gave yourself enough time to run your coffee machine and do your full AM skincare routine. The sun was never up when you rose, which always made it tougher to pull yourself from the warmth of your bed. It was the cost of running your own business, one where you needed to be there to open up shop. While it was a struggle to make it out on time, it wasn’t a chore. Every morning you travelled to your passion project, your dream job. 

The daycare looked a little drab with all the lights off as you parked in the lot outside. It had taken years of hard work in school and then raising the money to get yourself the rental space, but the little daycare was yours and every day was rewarding.

Unlocking the door, you moved inside and flicked all the switches outside the office. The rooms illuminated, all the colourful displays of hand-crafted art and spelling guides suddenly blooming to life. One of your favourite things the daycare did was display copies of their attendees’ creations, hand-print art and colouring sheets and everything in between. Your staff always reported that the kids were proud that they could see their art lining the space they spent so much time in every day, obviously through less and more simple wording.

A bit of time had passed and you had gotten most of the set-up for the day done. It would still be a while before the first parents would arrive and even the staff would only arrive a few minutes before official open. You believed that it was more cohesive and less stressful for everyone if you were the one to handle all that and the attendants could arrive ready for the day.

You really weren’t expecting the knock on the front glass door, the sound of it sending you jumping a little where you were sitting at the greeting desk. After the initial shock, your body started moving automatically, kicking into gear. You could see two sets of legs through the door, one adult and one mini. 

At first glance the man behind the door seemed intimidating. There was something about the energy he exuded. He wasn’t looming over you, meeting you eye to eye, but there was something that made him seem bigger than he was. 

“I’m so sorry, I see the hours don’t start until 7,” Your gaze automatically follow his pointing to the plaque in the window despite knowing it by heart already. “There was a work emergency and I wanted to make sure she got in before the cut-off time- seems like I went a little overboard.” The man’s energy was contagious and you found yourself laughing along. The man moved to rest his hand on his little companion’s head, fingers pressing lightly to her scalp in what looked like a calming massage.

You looked down at the little girl and was pleasantly surprised that she had a familiar face. Her eyes were wide and looking right up at you. Quickly your smile warmed, moving to kneel down to meet her level.

“Hi Seoyeon, good morning.”

She raised her hand to offer a shy wave, turning to press her face into her guardian’s pantleg.

“I didn’t even tell you my name, sorry again. I’m Seoyeon’s… uncle, Hongjoong.”

“You don’t seem very sure of that?” You joke, standing back up. The bell on the door chimes as you open it up and usher the duo in. 

“I’m her dad’s best friend, I just- yeah.”

As they walk back in you feel a little tug at your work apron. Seoyeon’s little hand has grabbed the fabric and she’s turned her wide pleading gaze your way. “It’s okay I get it,” You offer to Hongjoong, then to Seoyeon, “Yes, yes, I’m coming. Don’t worry sweetie.”

You pat lightly at her back, reassuring her that you’re there, guiding them into the playroom. “I can take her early this time since it’s a one-off thing; I hope everything is okay with her father’s work.” Hongjoong thanks you, relief evident in his voice. He signs easily when you turn the drop-off sheet his way.

“Seoyeonnie, what do you think of some early colouring time?”

[lovekz]

only you

syn -> you believe you and ran aren't great together, and he respects your decision to the best of his abilities.

warnings : breakups, angst-fluff, ran is a mess

-

it's a summer wake up at the haitani's big old house, and everyone is laying on the roof watching the sunrise.

it happens at the end of the school year, when school is finally over and summer is getting ready to begin.

every year since middle school, it switched from izana's home, to shion's, to yours, to kokonoi's, then the haitani's.

it's mainly been izana and the haitani's though, as they have the bigger houses.

but you lay on the roofs with tired smiles, staying up all night to watch the sun set and rise.

you all finally graduated high school, applied to dream colleges and researched dream jobs.

it was a new start, and all of you were excited to pursue your dreams.

everything has changed, opening everyone's eyes to the future that was coming by tomorrow.

ran had cut his hair really short, kakucho grew out his own, shion took out his crazy piercings, and you had even changed your style a bit.

izana had only started tying his hair back and rindou cut his into a mullet for the 'trend' (it grew on him).

it was so different but normal it a way. ran didn't want it to change.

right now, there was a blunt in rotation, now being held at the other side of the roof.

you laid next to your long time boyfriend, ran, under his blanket, looking at the sun.

occasionally, he'd look over at you and kiss your hand just to wake himself up even a little bit.

izana and rindou had began laughing at something ran didn't catch onto, though everyone else did.

he laughed along with them anyways, only because shion's ragged laugh always doing it for him.

"ran, we should break up." you airily say out of the blue, not making eye contact with ran.

ran doesn't respond, just tucks his hands under his back to push himself up a bit.

it's a good while before he says anything, and you believe it's because he was thinking about the idea.

but in reality, it made ran's whole future crash.

everything he believed he had and wanted to do seemed to have little question marks around them, and a blurry face was there.

it used to be yours, you made up his whole world.

but you wanted out.

"why?" ran questions, holding the hurt in the back of his throat and itching his leg away from you.

and the response was horrid to him.

you had merely shrugged at him, pursing your lips and closing your eyes in thought.

ran took a little glance at you, and for some reason you were even more beautiful than before.

was it because you weren't his anymore?

you speak before him though, opening your eyes and looking at him.

he only knows because he feels a certain way when it's you staring at him, from the side or even in front of him.

"we've been with each other forever, ran. wouldn't you want to meet other people?" you bring up, looking at him.

ran doesn't know what to say to that.

he's got a hundred things going through his mind right now, and none of them are 'please stay' exactly.

why do you want to leave exactly? what made you think like that?

how long have you thought about asking him this to have such a straight forward response?

but he doesn't voice his concerns to you because at the end of the day..

you don't owe him an explanation.

so ran nods, and accepts it.

his heart aches at the fact that he'll have to see you for the rest of the time that you're here.

-

ran doesn't see you for another 2-3 years after you leave his house.

he's almost finished college, and doing really good academically.

mentally? not so great.

ran grew his hair back out, eats much less and drinks more water, keeps his room clean when rindou tells him to, and smoked two times the amount he used to.

he doesn't sleep, and when he does, he dreams of you and how happy the two of you were together.

he wakes up crying after that, so he tries to stay up as much as possible.

his hair goes back to how it was before it was cut, because hair supposedly holds memories.

ran doesn't want to forget you, ever.

he tries to reach out by texting and calling, but you never respond and you never answer.

it hurts, but he knows you're probably healing just like he's trying to.

or well, he thought so.

rindou holds a surprise party for him when the two find out he’s graduating early.

he got his undergraduate bachelors in psychology and mental health with flying colors.

so who wouldn’t surprise their older brother with his favorite alcohol and his favorite people?

obviously rindou didn’t get the memo.

-

ran walks into the house holding his fresh bread and keys.

rindou told him go out really quick so he could make the two sandwiches, and ran complied.

he doesn’t walk with his phone anymore, doesn’t think it really makes a difference.

but he walks with a airtag, just in case rindou ‘mothers’ too much for a moment.

it’s funny, he remembers being in rindou’s place and rindou being in his.

only difference? rindou wasn’t as disturbed as ran was now.

he manages to get the door open, with a bit more struggle, but it’s open.

shuffling around the house starts, and ran can only assume rindou was in his room trying to rub one out while he was gone.

ran doesn’t chuckle at the thought like he usually would, just blinks and makes his way to the kitchen in darkness.

the shuffling doesn’t bother him a bit.

he places the bread onto the counter and suddenly the lights are on.

people begin to scream in his face, standing around the counter and the tables.

he recognizes some, recognizes most, and not so much of others.

there’s a banner that reads ‘did it in three, congrats!’ over the doorway.

“thank you.” ran says, forcing a smile on his face as he looks at everyone.

he knows it doesn’t sound genuine, and it doesn’t sound nice, but it’s the best he could muster up.

the attention is all on him, but he feels like he needs to throw up.

and his making a face, so rindou is tugging him off to some empty room.

“are you drunk? or high? …both?” rindou asks, tilting his head to the side.

and for once, ran has been sober all day.

he’s unsure why, but it’s probably why his thoughts have been so fucking loud.

ran shakes his head, leaning against the wall with a frown.

rindou studies the look, and doesn’t know what to make out of it.

he knows his brother has been like this for a while, and he’s spoken to him many times.

he’s even gone as far as to speaking with his personal therapist to see if he should get ran one himself.

but ran has always refused to, and you can’t give someone help if they don’t want it.

so all he could do is watch.

but he doesn’t wanna watch anymore, he’s worried.

“ran what’s going on? is this over-“ “please stop talking.” ran cuts him off immediately.

the words are absent, and rindou doesn’t know if he’s talking to him or someone else.

not like there’s anyone else in the room with him to hear it.

rindou had begun losing his patience, and felt greatly annoyed.

it caused his tone to sound as such, and not be as kind as he always tries to make it sound.

ran wasn’t hearing it, and stood up straight.

“I appreciate this, rin. I’m just a little under the weather.” ran smiles, and it’s a bit uneasy.

but it isn’t believable.

rindou watches as he begins to leave, before speaking up.

“I pray for you, you know that?” rindou speaks up, looking away from the mirror.

ran stops, holding his hand on the doorstep.

rindou turns his entire body to face him, and takes another deep breath.

one he didn’t know he was holding.

“I’m not religious, don’t know if god’s real, but I pray for you. because maybe if someone is out there, they won’t take my only brother from me.” rindou heartily says.

ran sniffles, before fixing his clothes that suddenly feel weird.

he nods again, fixing his hair to tuck behind his ears as well.

“I love you, and I thank you. but please don’t say that.” ran whispers, glancing at his brother with a sad look.

ran walks out of the bathroom and into his room, before closing the door and stripping himself of his clothes.

it’s a common occurrence, something he always does after coming in from class.

guess he won’t have to go back now.

he fits himself under his blanket and stares out his big window.

rindou was in here, he could tell.

one of his pillows were folded and the ends of his comforter was folded on the inside.

ran has this horrible headache though, so he won’t curse him out.

he doesn’t realize he’s also slowly breaking rindou down by acting this way.

but he can’t help it. he’s hurt, he’s lost, and he needs help.

he doesn’t want to think about it anymore.

ran forces himself to sleep so he doesn’t have to speak to anyone else.

-

music blasts from the speakers downstairs, but ran doesn't hear or awake to any of it.

the sound doesn't increase, nor does it decrease.

it's at its extremely loud volume, it'll be a miracle if anyone can still hear after leaving the party.

in the man's bedroom, the music sneaks in like a snake, and scurries out as fast as a cat.

someone had entered his room.

they have a seat on the soft bed, resting their warm hands on ran’s skinny pale collarbones.

the bones on his body were almost in view under his pale skin, it was telltale signs of malnourishment.

if no one knew better, or didn't see the rise and fall of the man's chest, they'd think ran was dead.

but he was very much alive.

the smooth touches to his skin woke him from his deep slumber, purple eyes squinting in confusion.

the person stared down at him, a smile so sweet ran could swear he smelt honey.

"good morning ran." you call quietly, shifting your weight in the bed to be a bit more comfortable.

he stares blankly, as though he were shion on the last day of middle school when they handed out finals.

the two of you say nothing, trying to figure out who should speak first and what you should say.

ran doesn't sit up, but he brings one of his long arms up and caresses your cheek.

"you're so beautiful." he whispers, watching you lean into his hand.

you were real, he understands. his forever stood before him flesh and bone, not just a image of a memory.

"i missed hearing you say that." you sniffle, closing your eyes and letting him relish in your perfume.

he pulls you down to lay next to him and holds you in his arms, kissing your forehead soothingly.

you allow him, not caring if his pillows would mess up your hair that took hours to get perfect.

but this was ran you were talking about. the only man you could perfectly imagine marrying.

"damn boy. you fucked up my standards." you joke, burying your face into his cheek to inhale the chamomile and cocoa butter.

ran chuckles for the first time in a while, pulling you even closer if humanely possible.

he wouldn't let you go after this.

-

after the party finished, and everyone went home drunk and tired, ran asked you a serious question.

'if i get better, look better, feel better, will you give me another chance at our relationship?'

you tell him you'll consider it, but he has to try.

and try he did.

he began asking kakucho and rindou for diet plans and workout routines.

he picked up boxing with mucho (got shitted on a couple times, but it was so worth it).

even went shopping for a new wardrobe with izana, who always had the best style out of everyone.

mitsuya was even nice enough to get his best friend's wife to trim the dead ends off his hair for free.

the two of you talk every now and then, catching up about work and school and what not.

you don't see him, but you were nice enough to lend him your address in case he ever wanted to drop by.

he looked so much better than he did a few months ago, more meat on his bones and his muscles coming back tenfold.

now he was out with mitsuya in a flower shop, hands in his pockets as he stared in thought.

"you didn't tell me what we were doing here." mitsuya brings up, rubbing his eyes a bit.

ran glances at him for a split second, before looking back at the flowers in front of him.

mitsuya waits for a second, before kissing his teeth and fixing his posture.

"you can't wake me out of my sleep, dress me in random clothes, and drag me to a shop to say nothing." mitsuya complains, crossing his arms.

ran opens his mouth, hesitates a bit, before the words begin to leave his mouth.

"what do you get a girl you want a new beginning with?" he questions, looking at mitsuya.

mitsuya's jaw drops harshly, before he grows a cheeky smile at the older's obvious blush.

ran has never been embarrassed, nervous, or even worried to the point where he went to mitsuya.

but now? this was a whole new him.

despite mitsuya being single for quite some time, he always had the best advice when it came to women.

so it was only natural he went to find mitsuya right before he goes to see you.

"amaryllis and crocus flowers." mitsuya giggles like a high school girl, nudging the taller male next to him.

and that's what ran grabs.

he also stops to get you edible arrangements, your favorite fruit in the shape of a heart.

people stared as he walked to your house, some even telling him congrats or good luck.

ran appreciated it gratefully, finally having that boost he desparately needed from random strangers.

before he knew it, he stood in front of your door and had already knocked about three times.

you call out a quick 'coming!' from behind it and a lot of shuffling could be heard.

the door swings open and you gasp loudly, eyes blown wide at the pretty bouquet and fruits in his hand.

"ran.." you call out breathlessly, fixing your clothes.

you were in one of his old band tees, one that he swore up and down rindou stole from him.

he knows it's his specifically, because rindou got it signed by the band on the shoulders.

it read 'happy birthday ran, wishing you many more' across the bottom as well.

you quickly take the flowers and fruits from him, placing it on your console table pulling the man into a deep kiss.

he kisses you back, tripping into the house as you tug him back.

“don’t even ask- yes! a hundred times yes!” you laughed, cupping his cheeks.

he grinned big at you, before kissing you again.

his heart pounded out of his chest once you let him go, and he watched as you sauntered around the home with your flowers

it was then that he could confirm, it could only be you to make him feel this way.

[evervigilantnightshade]

The Line - Part One

Reader and John have always straddled the line between playful flirting and taking things further. However when they are forced into a safe house and a secret comes out will they be able to save what they were heading for or is all lost.

Reader x John Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Laswell, Original characters.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, flirting, a bit of light smut. Death and killing on missions. Father of reader's death mentioned. It will get pretty angsty for a bit.

Authors note: I used to write on Tumblr in a different fandom for a long time and then left. Now I'm back under a different name and I hope you like what I have to say.

MASTERLIST

Y/N couldn’t remember a point in her life that wasn’t geared towards being in the military. It ran in her family, going back generations. Her father was one of the most famous marksmen spoken amongst anyone in service. He was made for combat and dreamed of having a son to follow in his footsteps. 

When his first child was born he held his wife’s hand and admired her strength as she delivered their addition to their family. The first moment he looked into Y/N’s eyes he fell madly in love, no longer caring about succession. All he wanted was happy, healthy children. He was then gifted with 4 more girls. 

As she grew up though Y/N showed vast interest in what her father did. Always asking questions, begging him to teach her how to shoot a gun. She kept herself in shape and made sure to do well in school. 

When she turned 15 she told her father she wanted to join the military when she turned 18. He sat for a while saying nothing and she started to feel a bit anxious. 

“Y/N sweetheart can I ask you why you want to join?” He finally spoke

She paused to think about her answer, wanting to convey exactly how she felt.

“It feels right. I want to do something with my life that matters, I want to feel like I’m a part of something bigger than myself. I see the camaraderie you have with the men in your unit and I want that too. It’s in my blood dad, just like it’s in yours.” 

“You do understand that as a female it will be a long hard journey for you?” 

“If I work hard enough though and I’m a good soldier it shouldn’t matter though right?” 

“Oh sweetheart I wish for you that was true. However, almost all the time all they will see is that you're a girl and deem you less than themselves.” 

“Well I’ll just have to prove them wrong. And besides I won’t be doing it for them.” She said with determination in her voice. 

He sat for a bit longer and then reached over and put his hand on hers. 

“Whatever you need I’ll be there.” He said with a smile. 

“I want to do this on my own though.” She explained. “Not saying I don’t want you to be there for me. I just don’t want to rely on your reputation and the family name. I want to prove to myself and to you that I can do this.”

Her dad understood but was still worried for his daughter. 

She joined up at 18 just like she said she would and despite her determination her father had been right. It was hard for her, and there were times when all she wanted to was give up but that wasn’t in her. So she fought harder, trained longer and pushed herself to limits she didn’t even know she had. She was top of all her classes and was the best shooter on base. 

In fact she was so good that she was asked to join a special program in the UK for top marksmen. Again she pushed herself to the limit but it paid off. Her reputation sored and eventually she was recruited by Kate Laswell to join a team that was being put together. The 141 became her brothers in arms and the family she always admired her father for. 

The last time she saw her dad he told her how proud he was of her. She did what she set out to do, all on her own skill and determination. He now felt that the part of him that wanted a successor was fulfilled in ways he could only have dreamed of. 

He died of a heart attack 6 months later and it destroyed Y/N.

Now a year later, Y/N was laying in the mud high above the target zone, the ever vigilant sniper. Ghost was positioned opposite her, giving them both a complete view of any threats that may arise and compromise the mission. 

This year had been rough for the 141. They had been chasing the same target that seemed to elude them no matter what they did. The target was a man named Bako, a once low-level member of a drug empire now turned kingpin. Using violence and betrayal he has taken out anyone or anything that has been in his way. He has plagued the team for far too long and has become an increasingly dangerous threat. 

After all the escapes, near misses and wrong information the team finally got confirmation that he would be here, at this warehouse, meeting with his high-level partners. The plan was to bring the building down on top of them all, ending this once and for all. 

Soap, Gaz and Captain Price were currently approaching the target area quietly in a small boat. Y/N watched through her scope as the three men climbed out of the boat and made their way quietly across a small patch of grass that separated the water from the warehouse. The first thing she noticed is that Price had switched out his usual bucket hat for a baseball cap. Y/N’s core clenched, remembering a deal they had made a few months back.

They had been on a hard mission that had kept them away from the base for three months. After they all had showered, slept, and decompressed Soap was convinced they all needed a good old fashion BBQ to let off some steam. Kate agreed so her wife and her decided to host at their place.

Ghost and Soap were sitting at the picnic table while Y/N sat on a chair in the sun, wearing a pair of shorts and a v neck white t-shirt, trying to get some colour on her unusually pale legs. Beside her Gaz was going on about a girl he had invited that he was excited about. Granted he had only spent one drunken night with her before their last deployment. 

“She’s smoking hot Y/N, and smart.” 

Y/N glanced up over at him, shielding her eyes from the sun despite wearing sunglasses. 

“And you're sure about this one? Cause the last girl you were seeing went a bit crazy when you had to leave on missions. She called the Mexican embassy trying to find you. We weren’t even in Mexico.” Y/N reminded him

“Or what about the girl who was convinced you were sleeping with Bells and then tried to pull her hair out at the bar?” Soap chimed in and Y/N reached up and rubbed the side of her head.

“Took me by surprise. She was lucky I wasn’t armed.” 

“Yeah or that one…” Ghost started but Kyle interrupted him. 

“This one is different. I have a good feeling about her.” He smiled at them and Y/N felt a bit bad for him. 

“I’m sure she’s lovely Gaz.” 

He nodded at her looking proud. She chuckled thinking about the ways Ghost would intimidate her without even trying. 

“Ahhh good times” she mumbled and was about to take a swig of her beer when she froze the bottle half way to her lips. 

Price had just walked in wearing form fitting jeans, a slightly tight, black shirt and an army green baseball hat. He looked fucking amazing. Y/N bit her bottom lip and shook her head. 

Beside her Gaz waved his hand in front of her face and she looked up to see him, Ghost and Soap all looking at her, grinning.

“You ok there Bells?” Ghost grunted smugly.

“Fuck off” Y/N said with a grin despite being slightly embarrassed at getting caught drooling over their Captain. “And in this moment, if you're going to use my call sign, use the whole thing, dickhead.”

“Apologies Belladonna” Ghost said and then raised his beer which Y/N reciprocated. 

She took a long sip of her beer to wash down the heat that was creeping up her neck as well as creeping downwards. 

After putting his beer in the cooler, Price grabbed one and headed over to the group and nodded at them hello. Everyone either nodded back or mumbled a hello. 

“You four are unusually quiet.” Price said reaching over and using the picnic table to pop the cap off his beer. 

“We were just asking Bells…” Soap started but Y/N interrupted. 

“We were actually just talking about the new girl Gaz invited to the BBQ.” 

“You invited a girl here?” Price said and then chuckled. “Is this one, mentally stable at least?” 

Y/N got up, deciding to grab another beer, making a point to walk by Soap and smack him on the back of the head causing Ghost’s shoulders to shake while he silently chuckled. 

Price glanced over at Y/N while Gaz started telling him about his new girl. 

He almost fully turned around to watch as she bent over to grab her beer out of the cooler but then stopped himself. 

“Damn those are some dangerous shorts” He thought to himself and felt his jeans becoming a little tighter. 

He turned back at Gaz who was just staring at him. 

“Jesus Christ, the two of you.” Gaz shook his head and then walked over to talk to Kate. 

Price went over and sat at the picnic table. 

“What’s he on about now?” Price asked and Soap and Ghost exchanged glances. 

“No clue sir.” Ghost said, not wanting to be the one to point out the obvious.

The conversation naturally flowed then into football and the comment was forgotten. About an hour that consisted of chit chat and laughs, Kyle’s new girl showed up with a friend. 

Immediately Y/N got a bad feeling about them. 

Nancy was perfectly manicured, with her makeup and hair done up a bit much for a backyard BBQ. She had on a pair of white capris with a blue sleeveless blouse and wedges. Her friend looked like a copy and paste version of her. 

“Hey everyone,” Gaz announced to the group. “This is Nancy and her friend Becca.” 

For an awkward moment, no one said anything or made a move to introduce themselves to the girls. It was Kate that broke the silence and walked over. 

“Nice to meet you two. I’m Kate. Kyle has told us all so much about you Nancy.” 

“Awe he’s just the best isn’t he?” Nancy said, grabbing on to Gaz’s arm. 

“We certainly think so.” Kate said with a forced smile. “Do you girls want a drink? We have beer in the cooler.” She gestured over to the cooler on the deck. 

“Oh we don’t actually drink beer.” Becca said with her nose scrunched up. 

“Yeah we are wine girlies.” Nancy said in a playful tone.

“Um ok, yeah we have some wine in the house. Do you prefer white or red?” Kate asked. 

“Definitely white.” Nancy said looking over at Becca who nodded. “Yeah we’ll take white.” 

Beside Y/N she heard Ghost mumble “Gods give me strength.” Which caused her to smile. 

She then looked over at Price who was looking at her with a grin on his face and she grinned back. 

“You better go introduce yourself Cap. You are the leader of the team after all.” Y/N teased and he cocked his head at her with an amused look on his face. 

“Only if you come with me.” He retorted and Y/N laughed 

“You’d have a better chance of convincing Ghost to join you.” 

“Don’t even ask sir.” Ghost said, getting up and walking in the opposite direction of the girls just to be sure.

“Go on then.” Y/N sighed and stood up motioning at the girls.

Price stood up and then smacked Soap lightly on the shoulder. 

“You too Soap.”

He groaned but stood up reluctantly.  

“Play nice you two.” He warned and they made their way over to where they were standing.

Gaz’s face lit up seeing them approach.

“Nancy, this is my Captain.” He said proudly. 

Price smiled back and then extended his hand.

“Pleasure to meet you.”

“Oh Captain! That’s a fancy title.” Nancy said and then placed her hand in Price’s facing downward as if expecting him to kiss the back of her hand.

Instead he awkwardly shook her hand while holding on to the ends of her fingers.

“Call me John.” 

“And this is Johnny and Y/N.” Gaz said motioning to where her and Soap were standing.

Nancy looked over at them and then stuck her hand out the same way to Soap, while completely ignoring Y/N

“So many handsome men on your team.” Nancy said while looking over at Becca who was shaking Price’s hand.

“I agree.” Becca said with a smile. 

Y/N rolled her eyes and then turned around without saying a word, walking over to Ghost.

“How was that?” He asked and she just knew he was grinning under his black surgical mask.

“When Gaz makes his way over to you for introductions, and he will, do me a favour and scare them enough so they leave yeah?” 

Ghost chuckled beside her.

“You a bit jealous there Bells?” 

Y/N looked over at Becca who was currently squeezing Soap's bicep.She watched as Price took a slight step back to avoid the same treatment. 

“Got no reason to be.” She said with a satisfied smirk. 

“Because you’re pretty confident those girls aren’t Price’s cup of tea?” 

“Why would that matter to me? He’s a single man who is extremely good looking, and has a nice… everything.” She let out a sign at the last word causing Ghost to audibly laugh. 

“Oh love you got it bad.” But then his voice turned serious.  “Hope you know what you’re doing.” He said cautiously. 

“What does that mean?” She said a slight frown forming on her face.

“Just don’t want ya to get hurt is all.” He said with a shrug.

She took a second to swallow the lump in her throat and then plastered on a fake smile.

“Hey you know what I always say. Can't get hurt if you don’t catch feelings.”

“So it’s purely physical then?” He asked, turning now to face her.

“Of course.” She replied but they both knew she was lying. 

“Y/N…” he started but he was interrupted by Gaz calling out to him.

“Well, it looks like it’s your turn.” she said relieved as she slowly turned and started making her way over to Kate. 

“Don’t you fucking leave me.” Ghost hissed 

“Sorry I think Kate’s calling me, I think she needs help with the grill.” Y/N called over her shoulder and then laughed. 

“You know there are people out there who are scared of me.” He called out after her

“And I’m not one of them!” She called back.

Y/N watched out of the corner of her eye as Nancy and Becca were introduced to Ghost and he made no movement to reach out and take their limp hands. 

When they started grilling him about his surgical mask he stayed silent but when Becca reached over and squeezed his arm, telling how beautiful his eyes were, it was his breaking point and he turned and walked away without a word. Y/N heard Gaz say something about Ghost being shy and Becca giggled.

“I guess we’ll just have to break him out of his shell.” She said in a high pitched voice.

“Ok food is ready!” Kate called out 

Y/N was disappointed because she really wanted to see Becca try. 

They all sat down and ate the amazing food, constantly complimenting Kate and her wife saying it was one of the best meals they had had in a long time. 

After eating everyone was lounging around patting their full bellies. Price was sitting behind Y/N in one of the chairs smoking a cigar and talking to Kate. 

Becca and Nancy approached Y/N who was currently tidying up the picnic table. 

“Hey, you’ve been avoiding us.” Nancy said slurring slightly while pointing her finger at Y/N 

“Have I?” Y/N said, mocking her playful tone.

“You have, but that’s ok. I’m sure we’re going to be great friends eventually. Now we wanted to ask which one of these guys do you belong to?” 

Behind them Price and Kate halted their conversation to pay attention to what was happening now in front of them.

“I don’t belong to anyone.” Y/N answered with gritted teeth.

“Oh don’t be like that, you know what I mean. Which one is yours? We don’t want to be stepping on any toes here. We’re trying to find a match for Becca.” 

“I figured that much.” Y/N replied tensely.

“Yeah, being a soldier's wife would be so cool! And like they’re never home but you get all this respect for serving your country. How great is that?!” 

Y/N was about to tear into her but she felt a hand grab hers. 

“Watch it love. We wouldn’t want to ruin Laswell’s lovely BBQ would we?” Price whispered in her ear and closed her eyes, suddenly very aware of how close he was. 

She clenched her jaw when he let go of her hand and went back over towards Laswell, but remained within grabbing distance. 

“Oh perfect, you’re with the old man! He wasn’t even on our list of candidates!” Nancy said excitedly. 

“Not on your list?” Y/N said, her voice slightly raised “He should be on the top of that list!” 

“I mean we totally get it, for you he is but he’s just like not our type.” Nancy replied and Becca nodded.

“Oh but he’s a Captain! You must have amazing benefits! Especially like that death one.” Becca started and Y/N lunged. 

Before she could reach the girls though an arm wrapped around her waist and picked her up dragging her towards the house. Behind her she could hear Nancy and Becca still talking.

“What’s her deal?” 

“No clue, let’s go talk to that scary one again. I bet he’s hot under that mask.” 

She was struggling to get back out to the yard when Price finally put her down in the kitchen. 

“Let me go back out there. I promise not to kill them.” Y/N said while pacing the kitchen, Price was now blocking her only way out. “Just maim them a bit.”

“Hmmm” Price grunted, standing with his arms crossed in that way that Y/N loved. His fingers tucked under his arms, his thumbs pointed up and his hips jutting out. But she didn’t notice, she was too mad. 

“Death benefits! Death benefits. She’s talking about fucking death benefits like it’s the lottery.” Y/N went off still pacing. “They’re just out there looking to sucker one of you into marrying them so they can get your fucking benefits.” 

“Not me.” Price said amused. “I’m not on their list” 

“Yeah that’s another thing, not on their list. How can they look at you and not want you?” 

“Well,” Price said,walking over to Y/N and standing in front of her causing her to stop pacing. “I’m on your list and that’s all that matters to me.” 

Y/N blushed and then smiled slyly.

“And am I on yours?” 

He started slowly walking towards her and she was taking small steps backwards until she was against the kitchen sink. He leaned over and put his left hand on the counter beside her. 

“You are the whole list.” he said quietly and then grabbed the bottom hem of her shorts, his knuckles brushing against the skin of her thigh. “Especially in these.” 

Y/N felt her skin tingle and heat up but also felt a nervousness in her chest. They had never been this close to stepping over the line that separated play and real. Ghost’s words echoed in her mind “Don’t want you to get hurt.” A slight frown formed on her lips and immediately Price started to back up. 

“Sorry, that was too…”  He started but Y/N grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him back. 

“Don’t you dare.” 

He looked down at her lips and then further down before looking back into her eyes. 

“Are you sure this is what  you want? Because we have been playing this game for quite a while and once we cross that line I don’t think I could ever go back.” 

He moved his knee in between her legs and she let out a soft moan as she rocked her hips forward against it. 

“Does that answer your question?” She asked, flattening her hand on his chest and slowly moving it downward. 

“God woman.” He hissed and was about to slam his lips down onto hers when they heard Gaz calling out his name. 

“Fuck.” Y/N cried out and slipped out from in front of Price who moved forward, pretending to be doing dishes. 

Gaz walked into the kitchen and looked at the two of them confused. 

“What’s going on?” He asked looking over at Price who wouldn’t turn around. 

“Nothing, we’re not doing anything?” Y/N replied quickly 

“Dishes” Price added behind her. 

“Yeah dishes. We’re doing dishes.” She then picked up a dish towel to sell the story. 

“Ok… well Nancy came up to me and said that you were acting weird and looked like you were mad at her.” 

“Right, that.” Y/N sighed, relaxing slightly. “Gaz I want you to look at me and listen to what I’m saying alright? Hard no on Nancy.”

“What? But..” He sputtered but Y/N grabbed him by the shoulders. 

“Gaz she was talking about death benefits and how you’ll never be around. She may be nice looking on the outside but on the inside she is ugly.” 

Gaz sighed and then looked out towards the backyard. 

“Could I just enjoy the outside for a bit before I send her packing?” 

“NO!”  Y/N and Price said in unison. 

“Fine. I’ll get her out of here.” His head fell and he made his way back outside. 

Price stepped away from the sink and Y/N handed him the dish towel to dry his hands. She stood still facing away from him, her hands on her hips with her head down. 

“We should get back out there.” She sighed and then looked up at the ceiling. 

Behind her even though she couldn’t see him, Price nodded. 

They were silent for a moment and Y/N felt his hand rest lightly on her hips and leaned over to whisper in her ear. 

“Wear those shorts again for me sometime?” 

“John,” She said quietly and he pushed his hips into her with a moan, hearing her say his name. “You wear that hat again and you’ll see me in a lot less.” 

He groaned and nipped at her ear. They stood there for a minute and then John reluctantly let her go. 

“Ok we really need to go out back.” She said turning around to see John trying to adjust himself. 

“You go, I'm going to need a few minutes here.” 

After that they got busy at work with missions, training, paperwork and stakeouts that took over their lives and they hadn’t had a chance to be alone once. John went back into Captain mode and it was starting to feel like the BBQ was just a fever dream Y/N had. She spent many nights thinking about that moment and what could have come next. It was driving her to the point of insanity.  

But now, seeing John in that hat, she knew that he was suffering just as much as she was. 

“I guess a deal is a deal, Cap.” Y/N said into the coms quietly. 

Price looked up at her direction, smirked, nodded and gave her a quick wink causing her core to clench.

“Eyes on the prize here folks.” Ghost said in the coms. ”I want to get this over and done with.” 

“Roger that.” The rest of the team replied. 

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

Alright let me know what you think. I live off feedback. Should I continue? This is my first fic up so I’m going to need a little encouragement to start posting again.

[pretzel-box]

Tags: Established Relationship, Slight Fluff, Domestic Life Style, Hallucinations, Lucid Dreaming, Paranoia and Angst. Also a tiny bit of violence.

Words: 2,6k

The smell of freshly prepared pancakes wafted through the house, mingling with the divine aroma of coffee and blueberry muffins. It was breakfast time—the most important meal of the day, essential for keeping the mind sharp and the body energized.

This was one of the rare occasions Sebastian experienced such a meal, seated at a fine mahogany table set with golden cutlery and a plate of his own. He squeezed himself into the cramped living space, just large enough to fit him halfway comfortably, though his tail still extended into the living room. The golden utensils felt weightless in his hand, the fork seeming almost comically small as he picked it up. He paused, glancing up.

The clock with its silvery frame, hanging on the wall, ticked softly, showing 11:11 AM. A bit late for breakfast, Sebastian thought.

Then you stepped into the kitchen, wearing a comfortable ocean-blue apron with a bird pattern on the front. You held a small kitchen knife between your fingers, ready to slice the fresh vegetables you must have just picked up.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” you hummed, your voice so sweet it almost rivaled the sugar-coated food on the table.

He could swear, his heart just skipped a beat. It was followed by a kiss on his neck, right between his shoulder.

It only took three things: breakfast, the small comforts scattered around the room, and you, to remind him that he was safe now—living in your home until you both could afford something bigger. Somehow, you two always managed.

The radio crackled to life, filling the space with soft background noise, just like you always preferred during breakfast.

And then, you ate together.

The morning sun streamed through the windows as you shared a quiet breakfast. Sebastian ate slowly, savoring each bite, though still not entirely used to the normalcy of it all. You chatted between bites, your laughter occasionally filling the air, though he remained mostly quiet, content just listening to your voice.

After breakfast, the day unfolded in its familiar routine. Sebastian took to the chores without needing to be asked. He collected the dishes and brought them to the sink, the sound of running water filling the kitchen as he carefully scrubbed each plate and cup. His hands moved methodically, enjoying the repetition of the task. There was something satisfying about watching the bubbles form and then disappear, the dishes gleaming clean beneath his fingers.

Once the dishes were done, he moved to sweep and mop the floor, his tail brushing softly against the corners of the room as he worked. It was something he excelled at—cleaning. Each stroke of the mop was deliberate, leaving the floor spotless and gleaming under the light. He took his time, making sure no spot was missed. The rhythm of his movements was almost therapeutic, grounding him in the routine you had created together.

While you kept him from venturing outside due to the risk of running into too many people, Sebastian didn’t mind. He found comfort in the quiet tasks around the house, feeling useful in a way that kept him from thinking too much. Watering the plants was next. He carried the small watering can through the house, carefully tending to each plant you had nurtured. He had learned their schedules—when each one needed a bit more or less water, and which ones preferred more sunlight. The leaves glistened with droplets by the time he finished, the greenery adding life to the small space.

Meanwhile, you busied yourself with tasks outside. From the window, he could see you trimming the bushes with a precision that matched his own care inside. The flowers you had planted were in full bloom, their vibrant colors adding a lively contrast to the house's neutral tones. He watched as you watered them, your apron fluttering lightly in the breeze, your movements as fluid as his own.

You hung laundry out to dry, each piece flapping gently in the wind. Occasionally, you'd glance back toward the window, offering him a soft smile, which he always returned with a quiet nod. He knew you handled the outside tasks because it was easier that way, avoiding the complications of him being seen. And though he longed to be outside with you, to feel the sun on his skin, he understood. It was safer this way, and he was grateful for the life you had created together, even if it was within the confines of your small home.

By the time you returned from shopping, arms full of groceries, Sebastian had already finished his tasks for the day. The house was spotless, the plants were watered, and everything felt in order. You gave him a playful look, shaking your head as he reached out to help with the bags.

“I’ve got it,” you said with a grin, though he still managed to take a few from your hands. Together, you put away the groceries, slipping back into the easy rhythm you had both grown accustomed to, a dance of quiet understanding.

Though your space was small, and the outside world seemed just out of reach, there was a sense of peace here. You two managed. You always did.

Then you two would sleep, only to wake up for the next day.

Sebastian rubbed his eyes, still groggy, but the enticing smell of fresh pancakes, his favorite blend of coffee, and blueberry muffins quickly pulled him from sleep. A smile crept onto his face as he peeked into the kitchen, his heart light at the sight of the familiar setup. Though you weren’t in sight yet, his attention was drawn to his seat at the table, where golden cutlery and his own plate waited for him. The clock on the wall ticked softly, showing 11:11, the rhythmic sound almost lulling him into a daydream.

Just then, you appeared, breaking the spell. You walked into the kitchen with a soft smile, wearing that blue apron with little birds, carrying a basket full of fresh fruits. The sight of you always made him feel at home, a reminder of the routine you'd built together. Breakfast was the most important meal of the day, you always said, and adding healthy fruits made it all the better.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” you greeted sweetly, your voice as warm as the smell of pancakes in the air. Then his kiss followed, placed on his skin between the neck and the shoulder. After that, you moved with practiced ease, grabbing a kitchen knife and quickly slicing the fruits into neat pieces, your hands steady as you filled a bowl with the colorful mixture.

You placed the bowl in front of Sebastian, the freshly cut fruit adding to the already enticing spread on the table. He mumbled a quiet thank you, still a little sleepy but content. As you turned to flick on the radio, the soft hum of music filled the room, adding that comforting background noise you always preferred during meals.

After breakfast, the day moved into its usual rhythm. Sebastian quietly took to his chores, starting with the dishes. As he reached for the sponge, he noticed the water was cold, the warmth from earlier long gone. He frowned slightly but didn’t complain, plunging his hands into the chilly water, the suds forming weakly as he scrubbed each plate. His fingers worked with precision, despite the cold bite of the water, and the familiar routine grounded him.

Once the dishes were neatly stacked to dry, he moved to the floors. There were wet spots scattered around the house, remnants of water splashes and humidity. He picked up the mop and began moving it across the floor, the soft swish of the mop head the only sound breaking the quiet. The floor seemed more slippery today, perhaps from the condensation that clung to the windows or the moisture that had snuck in overnight. Sebastian worked with steady focus, making sure each corner was spotless, soaking up every last drop of water before it could cause any accidents.

As he mopped away the dampness, he glanced out the window, catching a glimpse of you outside, tending to the garden. The sound of the radio played faintly in the background, still giving the house that soft, comforting hum. You were hanging laundry now, the colorful clothes flapping gently in the breeze. You looked peaceful, and even from inside, Sebastian couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

Once the floor was dry and gleaming, Sebastian set the mop aside. He wiped his hands on a nearby towel, satisfied with the way the house was starting to feel in order again. It wasn’t glamorous work, but it was something he could do to help. He couldn’t go outside like you did—too many people, too many risks—but here, within these four walls, he could contribute. And that was enough for now.

The day had slipped by quickly, leaving Sebastian to drift into sleep beside you, only to be gently pulled from his dreams the next morning by the familiar scent of freshly prepared pancakes and coffee. And then, that unmistakable divine aroma of blueberry muffins. It never failed to get him out of bed.

In an instant, he found himself moving toward the kitchen, eyes lighting up as he admired the spread of food on the table. Right there, next to his plate, the golden cutlery gleamed in the soft morning light. Breakfast was easily one of his favorite parts of the day—not just for the food, but for the way it filled him with energy and set the tone for the rest of the day. More than anything, it was because he got to share that peaceful moment with you.

The clock on the wall showed 11:11, ticking softly in the background. The rhythmic sound was almost hypnotic, but before he could fall into another daydream, you entered the room. You wore your usual blue apron with the birds, a familiar sight that always brought a sense of comfort. This time, you held a basket full of fresh meat, setting it down near the kitchen knife.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," you greeted with a soft smile, leaning in just enough for your lips to brush against his skin. It was the kind of gentle affection that made his mornings brighter. "I picked up some meat for lunch—it was on sale."

Before sitting down, you walked over and turned on the radio, filling the room with a soothing background melody. With the quiet music accompanying your soft conversation, the two of you sat down to eat. You shared small talk, laughter filling the space as naturally as the morning sunlight.

When breakfast ended, it was time to tackle the day’s tasks once again, but those moments spent together over the meal made everything else feel lighter, even the inevitable chores that followed.

After breakfast, Sebastian moved to the kitchen to start his usual chores. The house was quiet except for the low hum of the radio in the background. He turned on the faucet to wash the dishes, expecting the familiar warmth, but the water was cold again, colder than it should be. His fingers tingled as he scrubbed the plates, the icy water making the task feel more tedious than usual. He couldn’t shake the growing sense of unease, but he pushed it aside, focusing on the rhythm of cleaning.

Once the dishes were done, he grabbed the mop and made his way around the house. His eyes caught something unusual—dark red liquid pooled in scattered patches across the floor, smeared slightly as though it had been dragged by something. His heart skipped a beat, but he told himself it was probably nothing. Maybe it was just juice, or some spilled wine from the night before, though neither of you had drunk anything like that recently.

He moved quickly, mopping away the dark stains, but the uneasy feeling clung to him, growing heavier with each stroke of the mop. The house felt darker than usual. The curtains were all drawn, casting deep shadows across the room. He hesitated for a moment before stepping toward the nearest window. The thick fabric of the curtains felt unnaturally heavy as he pulled them open.

Instead of the familiar view of the garden outside, Sebastian was met with a scene that made his blood run cold. On the other side of the glass was a dimly lit hall, stretching far into the distance, filled with looming submarines and figures in hazmat suits. The people moved methodically, their faces obscured by the opaque visors of their suits. They didn’t seem to notice him, but the sight alone was enough to make his heart race.

For a moment, Sebastian stood frozen, his breath catching in his throat. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t his home. Panic welled up inside him, and without thinking, he quickly let go of the curtains, letting them fall back into place. He turned around, his heart pounding in his chest.

“Good morning, sleepyhead.”

Sebastian’s head shot up, startled. His gaze locked onto you standing at the entrance to the kitchen. You were wearing that familiar blue apron, but something was wrong. The little birds that used to adorn it were gone, replaced by the stark, cold logo of Urbanshade sitting squarely on your chest. In your hand, you wielded a kitchen knife, casually slicing through a lump of white flesh.

“Breakfast is ready, and you're just standing there... Still spooked by a nightmare?” you asked, your tone sweet but unnervingly calm.

His heart pounded in his chest as he moved closer to you, his feet almost betraying him, as if they were drawn forward by some invisible force. You gently pulled him into the kitchen, guiding him to his usual seat. The cutlery was silver this time, not gold like it had been before, but it still rested beside his plate, polished and perfect. The table was covered in food that smelled familiar and warm—pancakes, coffee, blueberry muffins—but the air felt off.

You sat down across from him after turning on the radio, filling the silence with faint static. His eyes flicked to the clock. 11:11. A bit late for breakfast, isn't it?

He reached for a muffin, the warmth of the room doing little to calm the eerie chill that crept up his spine. Lifting it to his mouth, he took a bite, expecting the comforting taste of blueberries. Instead, his mouth filled with something cold, tasteless, and wrong. The texture wasn’t soft or sweet, but rubbery.

He glanced down in horror. The muffin was gone. In its place was the same lump of white flesh you had been cutting earlier. Panic surged through him, and he gagged, dropping it instantly. Without thinking, he jumped up, rushing to the sink, bile rising in his throat.

“Not tasty?” Your voice was right behind him now, soft and teasing. “I baked them with love. Or maybe you're just upset I haven’t given you your good morning kiss?”

His hands gripped the edge of the sink as he fought to steady his breathing. He could hear your footsteps, soft but deliberate. Before he could react, you were behind him, leaning in. Your fingers slid through his hair, your touch cold, freezing even. Your lips brushed against the back of his neck, sending a shiver through his entire body.

Then, without warning, you sank your teeth into his flesh.

Sebastian jolted awake, his body trembling. He wasn’t in the kitchen anymore. He was lying on a bed of wet, glowing moss, his breath ragged as he blinked, trying to get his bearings. The familiar, sterile walls of that cursed underwater facility surrounded him. His hand instinctively went to his neck, feeling the tender, raw spot where the teeth had sunk in, the memory of the pain still fresh.

In the distance, he heard footsteps—a wall dweller, scurrying away from him, the sound echoing through the halls. He sat up, the realization sinking in. Had that thing really taken a bite out of him?

Sebastian took a mental note. Staying in the moss for too long wasn’t healthy.

[arislary]

Brewing Chemistry (1/5) Han Jisung x (f) reader

Synopsis: What starts as a clumsy, unintentional encounter becomes the beginning of something neither of them expected. A series of missteps eventually transforms into a slow-burning romance. But will they realize that their connection goes beyond just caffeine, or will fear and uncertainty keep them from brewing something deeper?

Pairing: Han Jisung x (f) reader

Genre: fluff, eventual smut, strangers to lovers, coffee-shop au, non-idol au, meet-cute au

Warning: fluff, smut, unprotected smut (wrap tf up!), slight dom/sub, slight Dom Jisung, slight Sub reader, cute nicknames, spit kink, makeouts (there's probably gonna be more, but that'll be once later chapters are posted).

WC: 1.2k

AN: this could totally act as stand alone drabble, but I enjoyed writing about coffee shop Jisung x reader way too much. If you want to see more too, let me know please and I'll try to set up a taglist. Be patient with me as I do not have a schedule out for chapters yet! UNEDITED

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

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

Part 1 -> Part 2 -> Part 3 -> Part 4 -> Part 5

He’s staring

Staring mad hard. 

But honestly who am I to deny that I wasn’t also staring at him hard. Because who even looks like that! It kind of makes me want to just slap him. 

It was any normal Tuesday, one of the days where I can work remotely and always choose the local cafe, their free wifi and endless supply of caffeine calling my attention. 

Today was different; however, because upon my arrival, a group of three men sat huddled in my usual spot. All sporting a comfortable, yet intimidating look. 

A pout made its way onto my lips but I quickly put a blank look on and faced forward when one of them turned at the sound of the bell above the door. I walked closer to the counter and perused through their bakery selection for today. 

“Hey, _______!”

I look up at Leah coming out from the back. I grin, waving at her and blowing her a quick kiss, wiggling my fingers at her. Leah always gave me the hook up when it came to the baked goods. 

“Leah! My day just got ten times better,”  she laughed and started making my usual drink. She placed it down in front of me, grabbing my card to finish our transaction. I moaned as I took a sip, glancing back down at the baked goods case and back to her. 

“You’re like not even subtle anymore.”

“Hey! I am a paying customer and unofficial taste tester! It’s my right,” Leah snorted, shaking her head at me, and reached inside the case, pulling a blueberry lemon square. She placed it on a plate in front of me, raising one of her eyebrows. 

“I used a new recipe too, so try it and tell me if you like it!” 

I immediately reached for the square, taking my first bite. My eyes shut and a groan left my lips. I opened my eyes and unexpectedly made eye contact with huge brown eyes, wisps of brown hair falling over them. I straightened up instantly, my tongue poking out to lick any crumbs left. A blush spread across his cheeks, his eyes going even bigger. I quickly averted my gaze back to Leah, covering my mouth with my hand to sing her praises. 

I quickly grabbed my items and went to opposite side of the cafe, hoping to avoid further embarrassment. Which honestly, it was just my luck that the second I sit down, and look up, my eyes yet again locked with his. His mouth agape and his back was stock straight. 

I looked down, popping the last bite of my square in my mouth and taking a sip of my matcha latte, pulling my laptop out of my bag. It took me less than five minutes of attempting to complete any work that I realized the doe-eyed man across from me had captured every bit of my attention. 

I looked over to see that at this point his mouth was closed, but his eyes remained just as wide and his head now lay on his hand, continuously watching me. I released a breath. My heartbeat racing, as this attractive man continued to gawk at me in a way I never have been. What was worse is the fact that I can’t even stare at him without making eye contact. I could feel the heat in my cheeks and the back of my neck. 

I downed the rest of my drink, and began to pack my laptop back in its case. Be cute, go slow, don’t rush,because I knew the second I did, I’d eventually trip over myself and make an even bigger fool of myself.

Well hey! He was the one staring, so obviously he’s the one with the problem. Here I am just trying to do my work and he’s the one being a distraction. I furrowed my brow and spun around to face him, his head ducking down to avoid eye contact. Pfft, as if he were so concerned of that before. I began walking over to the three men’s table, watching as he realized just where I was headed. 

“Is there a problem?” I said once I reached his table, my hands coming to rest on my hips as I stared down at him. His blush seemed to bloom even more and his right hand raked through his hair, his other coming to cover his mouth. I rose a brow at him. “Well?”

He shook his head ‘no’ and dipped it towards me before keeping his gaze lowered. My hands dropped and I squeezed the strap of my bag. What the fuck… I turned to the other two men who looked between him and I with confused looks on their faces. Suddenly realizing what I had just done, I squeaked a small “I’m sorry.” And rushed towards the exit. I maintained my same pace, trying to reach my car as fast as possible. What was wrong with me? Why did I think that would be the way to handle it? Jesus. 

Just as I pressed the unlock button for my car, a voice called out behind me. 

“Excuse me! Wait!” I turned around and found brown eyes, jogging towards me and stopping a few feet away. He opened his mouth and then closed it again, his eyes scanning over my face. 

“Okay you gotta stop dude,” he blushed and rubbed his neck, averting his gaze to the side. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stare so much. And for you to have to come over and I know I probably made you uncomfortable, and this is probably even weirder being followed to your car. Fuck, I am not helping myself here, look you’re gorgeous and I just really like looking at you and I mean you just seem so interesting and pretty and cute and I-“

I doubled over, my hand flying to my mouth to try and muffle my laugh. 

“Oh my god, you’re so cute!” His mouth was still open, his eyes wide and blush very evident. I continued laughing as I walked closer to him. I placed a finger on his chin and closed his mouth. “And very attractive. I’m _______.” I smiled at him and tilted my head to the side because man who looks like that? I could see the short circuit happen in real time. He covered his mouth with his hand, the other folded across his chest. 

“I genuinely don’t know how to respond, I wasn’t expecting that.”

I laughed again, my hands coming to cover my own mouth now. “Would you want to get dinner sometime?” 

His eyes went wider than I’ve ever seen within this short time span, a finger flying up to point at himself. “Me?”

“Yes. I’d love to have dinner with you and who knows..” I shrugged my shoulders and smiled up at him, finding him endearing with each passing second. Honestly I wouldn’t mind him staring at me forever. 

[devildom-moss]

I got one!! Lucifer with a GN MC who gets one of those silly chibi plush of him (in-universe maybe Raph made it) and he's low-key jealous they spend more time with it than him. (sfw please!)

I'm going to be honest, there is probably less MC (and Lucifer x reader interactions) in this than expected, but I hope you still like it! It's got a bit of fluff and a lot of jealousy. (Who doesn't love Lose-ifer being all jealous and stupid?) There's also a decent serving of Raphael in this. Oops.

Lucifer being jealous of a plush version of himself

(Lucifer x gn!MC)

(SFW)

Word Count: +1,000

Raphael knew what he was doing, Lucifer convinced himself. That wicked, lousy, no-good, rotten angel was doing this as revenge for something. Maybe leaving him behind during the war? Raphael was aggressive – but petty? Maybe not. No, perhaps he was just charmed by you, too. Now, Lucifer was being replaced.

Oh, no, not by the angel himself, but by some handmade plush – no bigger than a foot long – designed to look like Lucifer. Raphael had given you the plush last week, and while Lucifer had to admit that it was well-made, he didn’t appreciate that you had been carrying that small, poor excuse for a replacement around all week.

 It was embarrassing that Lucifer found himself so foolishly jealous. It was just a doll that looked like him, so why was he so upset about it? If anything, he should have been happy that the doll was crafted in his image. You could be carrying around a small plush effigy of Solomon. That would really piss him off.

What was Lucifer supposed to do with his childish jealousy? Set aside his pride and confront you about his desire for more attention? Admit that he wanted your eyes on him and the fact that you clung to a doll that someone – Raphael, no less – had made for you left him annoyed to the point that he had considered hiding the doll on three different occasions and burning it once – if only the opportunity to pry it from your adoring arms had presented itself? Could you just hold him in your arms for one night instead of that damn doll? Of course, Lucifer thought himself to be above all that honesty nonsense and decided to attack the secondary source of his irritation.

“A minute of your time, Raphael.” Lucifer physically blocked the exit from the House of Lamentation. The angel had been kind enough to drop some fabric scraps off for Leviathan. “Care for a glass of Demonus?”

“Do I have a choice? Are you interested in trying to drink me under the table again?” Raphael looked Lucifer up and down. “Sure.”

Lucifer brought Raphael to his study and poured the alcohol into two glasses. He had selected something a bit bitter – not that Lucifer expected Raphael to be opposed to something bitter.

“Here you are,” Lucifer hummed. There was an off-putting elegance in the gentle motions Lucifer contorted himself into when handing the glass to Raphael. While Lucifer was typically a class act, Raphael picked up on the exaggerated sweetness of it. Lucifer even offered him a polite smile. The Devildom could go through another deadly cold spell before that disingenuous smile would fool Raphael, who waited patiently for Lucifer to take a seat across from him before he responded.

“Thank you, Lucifer.” Raphael smiled and took a sip of his drink. Not half bad. It could be a bit more bitter, though. Then again, perhaps Lucifer is bitter enough. “I take it you have something to discuss with me?”

“About the doll,” Lucifer mused, trailing off to open the way for a confession – to what, he wasn’t sure.

“The one I made for MC?”

“Precisely.” Lucifer set his glass down and crossed his legs.

“I noticed MC has been paying it a lot of attention. What’s the matter, Lucifer? Are you jealous?” Raphael questioned him in a straightforward tone, but Lucifer understood that this constituted teasing.

“Is there a reason it looks like me?” Lucifer slipped around the question.

“That was my intention. It’s obvious that MC clings to you. They adore you. I figured a Lucifer-shaped doll would allow you a bit of space and keep MC from feeling lonely when you are too busy to pay them any mind.” Raphael’s words stung in Lucifer’s ears.

“How considerate of you. Mission accomplished.” Lucifer wished he had put a curse on Raphael’s glass – nothing deadly, just something that would make him feel a bit better about the honesty from Raphael. If only he had pulled a page from Satan and Belphie’s book.  

“Is it serving its purpose too well for your liking? Don’t tell me you’re honestly jealous of a doll, now. Isn’t envy supposed to be Leviathan’s whole shtick? You’re going to give him a complex.” Raphael let out a small laugh and cut it off with another sip of Demonus. “They’d never pick a doll over the real demon himself. Even I know that. As I said before, they adore you.”

Lucifer’s face flushed – and it wasn’t from the alcohol. He was moping, but he needed Raphael’s blunt delivery to knock some sense into him. If only Lucifer had asked, Raphael would have been more than happy to knock sense into him with a spear. That would have been less embarrassing.

“Sorry, Raphael. I forgot that I have business to attend to.” Lucifer stood up and smoothed his vest down. “Please be on your way.”

Raphael’s eyes widened. “I didn’t finish my drink.”

“A shame.” Lucifer smirked. “Next time, perhaps.”

“Based on today’s conversation, I take it that won’t be for a while.” Raphael stood up, glass in hand, and downed the rest of his Demonus. He exhaled sharply at the sudden, mild burn. That was not a chugging drink. “Until next time. Give MC my best.”

“Sure.”

Raphael headed for the door, stopping just short of leaving. “You should try honesty next time. It might save you a glass of Demonus. It was good, though. Thank you.”

With Raphael safely out of sight, Lucifer pulled out his D.D.D. and went into his messages. He couldn’t resist smiling when he noticed the last thing you had sent him was that flapping Blackjack with hearts sticker.

Lucifer: MC, come to my room when you get a chance. I require your presence to put me at ease. I would also like to provide you with a bit more attention than you can get from a doll.

MC: Are you jealous, Luci?

Lucifer: Perhaps. What will you do about it?

MC: I’m on my way, you big baby. I’ll cuddle with you for as long as you wish.

Lucifer: Does the offer extend to kissing as well?

MC: We’ll see.

MC:

Lucifer broke into a large grin, melting at your replies. Maybe while you were cuddling, that plush could just get lost somewhere. Who knows?

[writeforfandoms]

State of My Head - bonus

Find the series masterlist

We all seem to be in a bit of a fun mood tonight so! Have a cute date between Gaz and his cat. 

Warnings: allusions to spicy times, kissing, shifter behavior, fluff, Gaz is the cutest. 

Word count: 721

You'd seen plenty of springtimes, had smelled many flowers and hunted many critters. 

And yet this one right in front of you might take the cake. 

Gaz had shuffled you into a car early that morning, refusing to tell you where he was taking you, only grinning and near-bouncing with energy. You did note the basket he'd set in the back. So wherever he was taking you, he was at least planning to feed you. 

It couldn't be all bad, then. 

"Here we are," Gaz told you, parking the car. In the middle of nowhere. "Just a quick walk to where I wanna take you, yeah?"

You eyed him for a moment and then grinned. "Just a reminder that if you try to leave me here, I will make you regret it." 

Gaz laughed, leaning over the center console to kiss you. "I would never," he murmured, bumping his forehead into yours affectionately. 

"In that case… lead on." You smiled, kissing him once more before you got out of the car.

Gaz carried the basket, leading the way through a nice little wooded area. It was very pretty, almost too idyllic with the spring sunshine filtering down through the leaves, tinting the air faintly green. And the smells were near overwhelming, so much richer than base. 

Finally, though, Gaz stepped out of the woods and you paused, eyes going wide. A field of wildflowers stretched out in a natural clearing, a riot of colors and scents. 

"Here we are," Gaz said, sneaking little looks at you. You were busy drinking in the beauty of the spot and the day and the thoughtfulness of your person. "Do you–?" 

You didn't let him finish the question. You turned and kissed him, throwing your arms around his shoulders to pull him closer. His noise of surprise quickly turned to approval, his free hand landing on your hip. 

The flowers were momentarily forgotten as you enthusiastically showed Gaz just how much you appreciated this. 

Finally, though, you settled down to actually eat. Gaz had packed a nice lunch for the two of you, and let you take whatever you wanted. 

After the two of you ate, he flopped back in the sun, stretching out. He peeked over at you with a fond little smile. 

"'S safe here," he mumbled. "I checked. You can shift here." 

You didn't waste any time, immediately throwing off your clothes (and ignoring Gaz's wolf whistle) before you shifted. 

The world was always bigger from this perspective, but no less beautiful. You sniffed any flower that caught your eye, meandering through the flowers. At one point, the flowers had grown so tall that they were over your head, which was amusing. You bounced up out of that patch, hearing Gaz laugh somewhere behind you. 

And then you found the perfect patch of sunshine and flopped over on your side, purring softly. The grass and flowers made for a nice soft napping spot, and the sunshine was warm on your fur. 

You didn't move even as you heard Gaz move, even as you felt him settle next to you. One long finger gently stroked the top of your head, and you opened your eyes enough to slow-blink at him, purring louder. 

"Knew you'd like this," he murmured, gaze adoring. "You're especially beautiful in the sunshine, love. Suits you." 

You tipped your head to lick his finger, still rumbling with a deep purr. He just hummed, resting there and moving his hand at your insistence so you could continue grooming him. 

At some point you actually did fall asleep, warm and content with Gaz's hand trapped between your front paws tucked against your chest. 

Finally, though, he moved with a quiet apology, and you shifted back. You'd say you didn't care that you were nude, except you tilted yourself in such a way to invite his gaze. 

"Do we have to leave already?" You asked with a little pout. 

"Maybe not quite yet," he murmured, something hungry in his gaze as he leaned over you, one hand planted in the flowers beside your head. "We've got a little time, love." 

"Good." With a wicked smile, you pulled him down on top of you, intent on wringing every moment of pleasure out of the sun-soaked afternoon you could. 

Multiple times, if you were lucky.

[wordsofelie]

Chapter 4

🔥Phoenix and Ashes

Suna Rintarou x f!reader

Summary: “It’s funny how nobody believed that we could make it work.” - “Well-maybe they were right.”

Meeting Suna Rintarou wasn’t part of your plan. Dating him, either. Getting your heart smashed into the palms of his hand, even less.

Content Warnings: High School Setting, Fluff and Angst, Mention of 2 Original Characters, Manga Spoilers, Mention of one Sex Scene

Word count: 3.6k

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9

“She’s changed.”

In the club room of Inarizaki High, Osamu’s voice resonates, it sounds like a whisper compared to his usual chaotic antics. But it’s enough for Suna to stop tying his shoes and look up at his teammate with a surprised face.

“What do you mean?” He does not ask who he is talking about, he knows it’s you. What he wonders, though, is where Osamu’s confidence comes from.

“She laughs more.”

You’re not known to be the expressive type. Suna realised this even before you started dating. When he bumped into you at the entrance ceremony, you did not flinch and get angry at him nor did you look scared by his face which most girls find rude. But as you spent more time together, he discovered how easily you were to amuse, laughing more than people might think. You always put your hand over your mouth when you grin a little too much and your nose wrinkles. He likes that. He even finds himself wanting to keep that special expression just for himself.

So when Osamu makes the same observation as him (because he can’t deny it, you do laugh more), his heart aches slightly. You’ve been more open with people over the past few months. You’ve made friends with the twins and often sit next to Osamu during lunch, girls from your class started approaching you to ask you for help in English, and you’ve even had conversations with every guy on the volleyball team. Suna can’t be the only one to hear your laugh anymore. Though he wishes he were. But he knows he’s being selfish and immature; your smile is so beautiful, it should be shared with the world. He has no right to ask you to hide it.

That’s when it hits him.

He recalls last weekend.

When your skin was burning under him, and your eyes were filled with something bigger than anything he had ever imagined before.

When you called him Rin breathless and your nails dug into his back, where they should belong.

When there were stars on the ceilings and your lips.

And when you looked at him.

It was that face. The first time he saw it he knew he wanted to see it for the rest of his life. Gosh, he felt in love.

So it is true; you may joke with Atsumu, discuss biology with Kita, and share cooking recipes with Osamu, one expression remains his alone. It gives his heart some peace.

“What’s with ya?” Osamu raises an eyebrow, surprised to see his friend smile at the floor.

Suna finishes tying his shoes and stands up, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

“Nothing. Just thought of something,” Suna replies as he walks past his friend.

Osamu is left puzzled. It’s not often he sees him smile, let alone with his full teeth like that.

“There must be a good reason.” He finds himself murmuring before letting out a long sigh, “Man, I’m too tired for that shit.”

It’s cold but you are waiting for Suna outside.

“Rintarou-kun.” You call him when you see his silhouette coming out of the club room.

Without a moment of hesitation, he strides over, and wraps his arms around your waist like he often does. Before you can react, he tilts your chin up and presses his lips to yours, it’s clumsy and a little bit rough and you almost lose your balance. Your chest clashes with his and the wool of his scarf tickles your neck. You feel his lips turn upwards as he deepens the kiss.

When you regain some sense, you push him back a little — not too much as you still grab the collar of his jacket to keep him by your side. Your cheeks turn bright red and you glance around nervously, hoping no one saw. “We’re at school!” you scold him, still flustered.

“My bad.” He teases before brushing a strand of hair from your face. You’re about to take a step back — or a thousand because you’re scared your heart might burst but he takes your hands, his touch warm against your cold skin. “Let’s go,” he says, pulling you along.

“Shouldn’t we wait for Osamu-kun?” You turn to take a glance at the door, expecting said Miya to come out. You often walk home together, especially when Atsumu is not with him, but this time you fear you’ll have to leave him behind as Rintarou seems to be weirdly eager to go home.

“The guy can take care of himself.”

You only nod. You have the right to be selfish this time and appreciate the company of your boyfriend.

“How was practice?” You ask once you’re far enough from the school and Suna has slowed down the pace.

He tells you about it, not with too many details though — Suna is not the greatest storyteller. Kita made them run extra laps because the twins kept on trying weird moves that they never tried before and “Kita-san hates it.”

He is about to ask about your day but you receive a message.

Suna looks at you staring at your screen and answering with unusual speed and intensity. It doesn’t take long to guess who you are talking to, “Chihara?”

“Yeah.” You sigh before putting your phone back in your pocket. He can see worry in your eyes. Perhaps a little bit of sadness too.

“What’s up?”

“Atsumu tried talking to her today after lunch.” Another sigh, “they fought again and she completely ignored him afterwards. And now he keeps on sending her messages, she wants to know if I think she should block him.”

A tension has settled between your best friend and her neighbour for a couple of weeks now. Umi’s attitude changed overnight. It was so brutal it reminded you of summer rain. One day the sun shone bright in the sky and the next clouds turned grey and you were faced with a storm.

It took you days before being able to hold a proper conversation with her as she was avoiding everyone, including Atsumu and the problem now is that she still avoides him.

“They should date.” Suna concludes. Straight to the point, like always.

“Yeah, but… Umi’s life isn’t-“ you’re searching for the right word, “easy right now. She has to take care of her younger siblings, her father is never home. I don’t think she has the energy to be in a relationship.”

“I have the energy to be in a relationship.” He’s getting closer to you dangerously and your shoulders brush each other.

You can’t help but chuckle (you put your hand over your mouth, your nose wrinkles), “you’re such a flirt.”

He says your name, in a serious voice, one you’ve never heard before, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Rintarou.”

When you say his name back, your body warms up, your heart beats fast and you’re convinced about something; Suna Rintarou is the love of your life.

You wish you could stay here, with him, longer but the sight of your house, now in front of you, brings you down to earth.

“I’ll see you on Saturday,” you finally tell him. “Until then don’t go to bed too late and stretch well.”

You're not the type to mother him (not the way Umi did with Atsumu at least), but what’s at stake is way too important.

“Mmh- I will.”

You can sense some stress underneath his confident demeanour. Honestly, who wouldn’t be stressed to play in the nationals? You were not surprised when his team won the Spring tournament but now the challenge is even higher. They can’t lose this time. You’ll obviously be here to cheer for them (for him).

You kiss his cheek and wish him goodnight.

He does too.

Everything’s perfect.

Saturday comes and the air gets colder in Tokyo. You hear the sound of the cheering squads and volleyball slamming against the polished floor from afar.

Inarizaki made it to the second round and the next game is about to start.

“Isn’t she comin’?” Atsumu asked you this morning, you felt disappointment in his voice.

Osamu spoke before you to tease him and turn his brother’s attention away, “donchta have enough girls cheerin’ for ya already?”

“Oi! Come back here ‘Samu!”

You’re thankful for the younger twin who gave you a side grin, he saved you from making up an awkward excuse on behalf of Umi. After that you called her, but she did not pick up. So now, as you stand in the main hall, you desperately wait for her to call you back (even if it might be all in vain).

“Excuse-me.” You turn to see who interpelled you.

A girl is standing in front of you, you don’t think you met her before (you really hope you haven’t because you don’t want to live one of these strange moments when the person in front of you is convinced you know each other when you really can’t recall their faces.)

“Do you know where court B is?”

She looks older than you, she wears a little bit of make-up you and a long black dress, you find her very pretty.

“I’m actually going there. You can come with me.” You offer. You check your phone one last time and decide to give up — Umi will probably come later.

“That’s really nice of you.” She smiles and some wrickles appear under her eyes, you’re now convinced she’s a model (or at least she should consider becoming one, such a beauty cannot be wasted).

You see her look at your shirt as you start walking, “is that your boyfriend’s jersey?”

You akwardly play with the fabric of Suna’s white jersey, his spare one, “I-mmh-yes.” (A year of dating and you still blush at the mention of your boyfriend)

“That’s such a cute way to cheer for him.” You’re about to enter the court when she introduces herself, “Oh I’m Watanabe Chiharu by the way.”

You say your name and a little voice inside your mind really wants to know if she came for the same reason as you, and you listen to it, “what about you Watanabe-san, are you here to cheer on your boyfriend?”

“My kouhai.” It’s her turn to blush, it’s more subtile than yours you think but it makes her look much younger and endearingly innocent, “and my friends… my friends as well.” She concludes by clearing her throat.

That day you realise that love leaves no one unscathed.

You wonder who her kouhai is, it could be one of the first years, Riseki-kun or Kosaku-kun, they’re not bad looking, though it’s probably the infamous Atsumu or Osamu. If you could chose, it would be the latter for he deserves to date a beautiful girl like her.

“May the best win.” She announces with confidence before winking at you. “It was nice to meet you.” You watch her join the wrong side of the stands (or what you thought were the wrong stands), “Inarizaki stands are-”

“Chiharu-senpai!” A guy with black hair and a blond-dyed lock shouts with excitment. He is followed by another guy with an orange jersey that matches his energy, “Chii-chan, you’re here!”

“Noya-san, Ryu, Ganbatte!”

You feel stupid and also a little bit disappointed. Today is not the day Osamu will date a beautiful girl, you contemplate silently.

In the end, Umi never came. And Inarizaki lost.

You don’t think you have ever seen the team play so well. Atsumu’s set were quicker, Aran’s spike stronger, Akagi’s receives sharper but still it wasn’t enough. As for Kita, every dig, every serve, every strategic move was executed with precision. His performance was nothing short of inspiring, but even he couldn’t turn the tide. It’s so unfair, it makes your eyes wet.

Suna. Oh Suna. Your eyes were glued to him throughout the match. If you watched him shield the block and destroy baldy’s initial energy, now you have to watch him join the others to line up. He is sweating and his eyes aren’t as green as they usually are. You hate that you have to applaud when you should be running to your boyfriend to congratulate him. Instead, you start preparing your speech about how he was amazing and they will win next year. You don’t make eye contact with him, you search for his gaze but he gets out of the court as fast as possible, leaving you with a knot in the stomach.

They probably cried, you think, when they exit the stadium an hour later. Karasuno’s victory isn’t mentionned once, number 10 and number 9 final block’s neither. At the end of the day, they don’t need the memory, you remember. The only thing that matters is tomorrow and what’s coming after that.

You walk with Rin, side by side, in silence.

“Next year will be our last year before we all become rivals. I wanna enjoy playin’ with ya Sunarin because ‘Samu and I will smash yer ass!” Atsumu turns to you brutally, you can see the red in his eyes.

“Rivals?” You ask your boyfriend, unsure of that he meant, “you want to become a professional player?”

“Yeah.”

You sure love your boyfriend for who he is. You chose to date him even if sometimes you wonder if it would kill him to make a full sentence and look at you in the eyes when he talks to you. Deep down, you realise that this part of him can be cruel. Your throat feels suddenly dry and words don’t seem to come out.

Never has Suna addressed the possibility of playing professionally, so why are you learning this since now and above all, from his friend ?

He finally talks after a few minutes, once Atsumu is a far enough not to hear and too busy grabbing Aran by the shoulder and challenging him to a 2 versus 2 as soon as they go back to school, “You’re disappointed.” He assumes.

“I’m not, not at all. It’s just-” (why did you not tell me?), “I’m surprised but I think it’s the right decision. Is there a particular team you want to join?”

You take the time to admire the sharp lines of his profile, hiw jaw, his long eyelashes, his Adam’s apple, you hope staring at him will make him look at you. It doesn’t. He remains calm and steady. His gaze fixed on the horizon.

“I’m not gonna be picky but I was thinking about going to Hiroshima for uni to join a program with EJR Rainjin, after my bachelor I could apply to play full time.”

“Hiroshima?”

He hums absentmindedly. It’s okay, you think, Hiroshima is only one hour and a half away from Hyogo. Osaka University was not your first choice, but it seems like it is now.

It’s a good thing you haven’t given your professor your career path sheet yet, because some change will be needed. You both stay quiet after that (you actually don’t ever bring up the subject), there’s a tense atmosphere that you don’t like, although it seems to only come from you as your boyfriend choses to look unbothered. When Osamu asks you if you want to have ramen with them, you decline politely. You notice he has the same red eyes as his brother, they may refuse to admit their resemblance, but they do come from the same womb. In sadness, and in joy, they form one. Osamu glances at Suna sideways, he wants to say something, beg him to make you stay. There’s obviously something off with you, how can he act like you’re not on the verge of tears?

But Osamu knows you better, you don’t like to be the centre of attention and confronting your boyfriend in front of the whole team would only make you feel worse, so he tries to soften his expression and calmy approach you, “walk home safe.”

When the words come out of his mouth, he feels even more powerless, he wishes he could find better ways to make you feel understood, seen, but the fatigue of the day is overcoming him.

You thank him with a sweet smile, before turning one last time to you boyfriend.

“Enjoy, I’ll see you at school.” Hearing your own voice crack you decide to leave before he can respond.

Suna joins the other boys first; Osamu takes the time to watch you go away. The sunset paints the sky in shades of orange, in a few minutes it will be navy blue. In this light, Osamu thinks you deserve better.

You thought Suna was like you, unpassionate. Sure, you’ve seen how dedicated he can be when he plays but nothing compares to Atsumu or that orange-haired guy from the team that beat them. But it turns out, he is not and the gap between you seems bigger now. Maybe he is meant to shine, and you’re meant to support him, from the sidelines. You should have paid more attention to his greatness when you met him instead of thinking he was average. You haven't talked about it with Suna but being in a long-distance relationship scares you, Osaka is already quite a distance from Hiroshima; you can't bear the thought of being even farther apart. You guess — or hope — he feels the same.

Your English teacher frowns when you hand him the paper, confused when he doesn’t see the option he had suggested for you. He takes the time to analyse it.

“You could apply to Tohoku University like I told you, your grades are more than enough to study communication there.”

Your shrug and leans back in your seat, “I’ve changed my mind, Sensei. And my parents think it’s better if I stay close to them.”

He bends his head, trying to decipher what is hidden under your detached look. He argues that your choice should come first and he will support your application to Osaka University only and only if “that is what you want.”

You prefer to brush it off with a quick thank you. You thought nothing could make you change your mind, but when he presents to you all the specialisations Tohoku University offers and shows you how modern the facilities are, you feel a pang of regret. You suddenly want to get out of the professors’ room before it makes you waver. The only thing that matters now is Rintarou and his career. You can’t look back.

“What was that about?”

When you open the door, you’re faced with your best friend. Umi is standing in front of you, arms crossed. You notice the dark circles under her eyes and the tense clench of her jaw. She probably hasn’t been sleeping well. In PE class yesterday, you also saw how thin her arms have become. The problem is that if you express your worries, she’ll runaway.

Either way, you don’t have the time to answer as she continues with irritation in her voice, “You’re not gonna apply for Tohoku University? It’s like the best.”

“Umi, Sendai is six hours by train, or I’ll have to take the plane and I can’t afford that. I need to be as close to Rin as possible.” You know your answer will not be enough to convince her, she’s too much of a headstrong but still you try to sound determined.

“What do you mean you need to? Can’t he join a team there? I’m sure there are good teams in Tohoku. Why are you the only one making efforts?” The questions come faster and louder as she gets closer to you. The features of her face harden as well.

You feel a mix of hurt and confusion.

“I- You can’t compare our situations. It’s Rin’s dream to be a professional player, I don’t really care about what job I will do. I’ve just put Tohoku University like that, I’m fine with going to Osaka. At least, I’ll be close to my parents and you.”

You don’t realise your voice reaches a higher decibel too.

“That’s bullshit. His dream since when ? Two days ? What about your dream? And don’t tell me it is to follow a guy who doesn’t give you half of what you give to him.”

Your blood freezes in your veins. Your heart might even break. You don't understand why she doesn't get your situation. What is wrong with wanting to stay close to the boy you love?

“Umi?” Osamu interrupts. You’re starting to believe this man is your guardian angel for he keeps on saving you in critical situations.

You both turn to look at him, “Ito-sensei wants to see ya, for the career thing.”

The girl takes a last glimpse of you, but you don’t return it as you instinctively hide behind Osamu’s broader figure. You wait for her to say one more thing, but she doesn’t and once again, just like with Suna, you realise silence is more painful than words.

“Looks like I’m not the only one who’s causin’ trouble with their career choice.”

You glance up at him, your eyes searching his face for more. There’s a hint of weariness in his usually cocky expression.

“What do you mean?” you ask quietly.

Osamu leans against the wall, running his fingers through his grey hair. “Told ‘Tsumu am not gonna pursue volleyball professionally.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. “What? Why?”

He shrugs, there's resignation and determination in his gaze — you're not sure which one is stronger. “I’ve been thinkin’ about it for a while. It’s not that I don’t love volleyball, ya know, but I wanna focus on somethin’ else. Workin’ in a restaurant, maybe even startin’ my own business.”

You nod slowly, absorbing his words. “How did Atsumu take it?”

Osamu chuckles, but there’s no humour in it. “Not well. He got mad, said I was wastin’ my talent and lettin’ him down.”

“I’m sorry, Osamu-kun,” you try to offer him some comfort, “It must have been hard to tell him.”

He looks at you, his eyes warm with understanding. “Yeah, it was. But it’s my decision, just like it’s yer decision where ya wanna go to university. Don’t let anyone else make that choice for ya.”

“I’m sorry for making you worry-”

“Shhh” he points a finger in your direction, “no sorry with me or I won’t allow ya in my restaurant.”

You pout to play along, “will there be onigiri?”

“Eh, maybe.”

“Then I promise to never apologise again.”

He makes you swear to keep your promise, and in return, he promises to make you umeboshi onigiri whenever you want, then he straightens up. “Come on, let’s get out of here. We both need a break from all this.”

Author notes: not me teasing a character for an upcoming story hehe 🙈 also the fluff part is almost over be prepared for what’s coming

Elie

[wasawattpadkid]

Call Me Dewey

Summary: Dewey's coworker set him up on a blind date with no other than you.

Pairing: Dewey Riley x Fem!reader

Warnings: insane amounts of fluff

Dewey was sweating at the idea of leaving the house. "How do I look?" Tatum rolled her eyes standing up. "You look like a narc. Come here." She unbuttoned a few buttons on his shirt making him look just a little less uptight. "Do I smell okay?" He lifted his arm making sure his deodorant did its job. "Ew. I don't understand why you're doing this." Tatum crinkled her nose secretly praying Dewey didn't get his heart broken. When he told her the news she was ready for it to be a prank. Something they could laugh about at work the next day. "I don't get it either." He picked the flowers he bought you up before he hit the door. "Make sure to tell her if she hurts you I'm coming for her." Tatum was dead serious and it made Dewey smile. "Will do."

He drove his mom's car because Tatum told him his jeep was "total chick repellent." Dewey checked his reflection in the mirror running over the usual lines for a first date. "What do you do for work?" He said the sentence several times making sure to get it right. You watched the man you're supposed to go out with talk to himself in his car. Gently you knocked on the window. Dewey looked at you screaming in fright. You jolted back with a scream of your own not ready for anything that just occurred. "Oh my gosh!" He said as he opened the door.

"I didn't mean to scare you." You spoke as he wiped his sweaty hands off on his pants. "No I yelled first. Heh..." He awkwardly laughed. You really had a thing for the shy ones. "You look handsome." You complimented him finding it refreshing there was still men who put effort into dates. "You do too. Oh- well you look pretty, very beautiful." He stumbled over his words trying to fix his mistake. You placed a hand on his arm calming him down. "Thank you. Are you ready to get going?" He smiled appreciating your kind nature. Just then he remembered the flowers in his car. "Oh wait!" He spun around pulling the small bouquet from the front seat. "Those are for me?" It was a rhetorical question. "Of course. Who else would they be for?"

Dewey watched your smile get bigger hearing his words. "I'm going to put these in some water and I'll be right back!" You ran back to into your house mentally cursing yourself for not dressing up more. He was attractive. The ironed button up he wore did nothing but favors for him. "Fuck he's cute." You mumbled as you placed the flowers in the tall glass you found in the cabinet. You check your reflection again before heading back outside. Dewey stood outside the car waiting to open the door for you. You bit your lip trying to quickly raise your standards. The man you just met couldn't win you over by just opening the door.

"Thank you." He grinned. "It's no problem." Dewey got into the car starting up the engine. "Do you like Mexican food? There's a neat little restaurant right in town." You picked at your fingernails nervous about how this could go. "Sounds great to me." There was an uncomfortable silence as he drove towards town. "Ryan told me your name is Y/n. I want to make sure I'm saying it right." You saw the slight tremble in his hands wrapped around the steering wheel. "Yeah that's right. It's Dewey right?" The man driving seemed to get embarrassed by the mention of his name. "It's actually Dwight, everyone at the station calls me Dewey. It's a nickname."

"What would you like me to call you?" Dewey tried to hide his smile. No one had ever asked him what he preferred to be called. Even when he corrected someone they still called him Dewey. "Well my friends call me Dewey." It wasn't really an answer to your question. "Okay, when we become friends I'll call you Dewey. Until then it's Dwight." The grown man nodded. "I like that." You both talked back and forth having the usual boring small talk. "What do you do for work?" "How long have you done that?" It was played out but you supposed it was a necessary question.

"Wait I'll get your door for you." Dewey said once he parked the car. He quickly walked around the car holding his hand out for you to grab. "Thank you." You said again walking into the restaurant. The two of you sat down immediately picking up where you left off. "You actually got a cat down from a tree?" You giggled making him laugh as well. "It was a slow day and the poor guy was bound to freeze." The image of Dewey trying to pull a cat from a tree was sure to last awhile. "That was very heroic of you." The waiter came up taking your drink orders before quickly leaving. "I like to think so." Dewey changed the subject towards you. "Do you have any pets?" As you answered Dewey listened to every word. Mentally taking note just so he wouldn't forget later on.

An hour passed like it was minutes. "You're lying!" Dewey held up his fingers. "Scouts honor." Your date talked about work drama and family stories. He seemed to have a story about everything. You both shared childhood memories and little facts about yourselves. Dewey worried when you first got to the restaurant. He didn't date in fact this was the first date he's ever been on. The way Tatum talked she figured it wasn't going to go well. She was always the more realistic person when it came to life. Dewey liked to see the better of people giving everyone their fair chance.

The waiter walked by dropping off the check. Immediately Dewey grabbed the little paper. "How much was mine? I've got cash on me." You always offered to pay for your food. Some men in your dating history had this idea in their head that if they paid for your food you owed them something in return. You happened to know you were worth more than a 15 dollar meal. "I'll take care of it." He smiled at you thinking it was sweet you even offered. "How much was it?" Dewey shook his head at you. "Don't worry about it." It was a kind gesture. Maybe gentleman still existed?

Once the bill was paid Dewey walked you back to his car holding your hand. You felt like a teenager again with butterflies in your stomach. He held the door letting you slip into your seat. You might actually like him. The car started as he rubbed his hand together. "You'll have to help me get back to your place since it's dark." He put the car in reverse pulling out of the parking lot. "Sure." The conversation never stopped. You talked about your favorite shows and movies while he told you about whatever he caught on TV the night previous. The view of your house down the road actually upset you. You wanted to continue talking to him.

"It's right there on the end." You pointed as he pulled up the the residence. "Don't worry about opening my door." You reassured him but he argued. "I'll get your door. My mom would kill me if she found out I didn't hold the door for a pretty lady." Dewey stepped out leaving you to quietly kick your feet. "Y/n." He spoke helping you out of the car. "I had a wonderful time with you tonight." Dewey once again grew nervous fearful of rejection. "I had a good time too. Do you think we could do it again next week?" You stole the words from his mouth. "Really? I mean- yes!" You laughed at his excitement as he walked you to your door. "Are you in the phone book?" He asked hoping you didn't need to write your number down. Dewey hadn't planned to get this far he didn't bring a paper or a pen. "Yep I'm under L/n."

"I'll give you a call tomorrow if that's alright?" Dewey thought about calling you when he got home but he didn't want to seem to clingy. "I look forward to it." He smiled that boyish smile you'd started to grow fond of. "Have a good night Y/n." He said as he started to walk back to his car. "Goodnight Dwight." The man turned around smiling as he spoke. "Call me Dewey."