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yoonbroom · 9 months

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SEVENTEEN FIC RECS

a list of seventeen fics I really enjoyed! pls go and show these amazing authors some love <3 also if there wasn't a summary on the fic I just included a little paragraph or the request! now onto the recs ↓

CHOI SEUNGCHEOL

HELLO TUTORIAL - @97-liners

oneshot, fluff, college au, frat au

it’s your final year of college, and you’ve been elected president of your sorority. this is all great and fine, but as the semester goes on, you find yourself having repeated run-ins with the president of the fraternity next door in a series of unfortunate coincidences (that might not actually be coincidences, as you come to discover). or: in which you’re trying to deal with your crush on seungcheol in a normal way, but the meddling kids are making it harder than it needs to be.

FRACTURED PARENTING, PT.2 - @berriesandjunnie

oneshot angst, fluff, idol au, separated parents au, enemies to lovers

parenting can be an emotional rollercoaster when you’re far from divorced and the flames are far from dying.

YOON JEONGHAN

UNTITLED - @userjuyo

drabble, fluff, est relationship

"i just know than jeonghan would tease his s/o a lot, but whenever they went “hannie :(“ he would literally MELT like he’d just be like “okay sweetheart i’m sorry 🥺” and the members would be like ????? BC HE WON’T LET THEM LIVE but it’s his baby so <;3"

UNTITLED - @wqnwoos

drabble, fluff, est relationship

“what if crabs think that fish can fly?” your question is whispered into the darkness of your bedroom — you gazing at the ceiling thoughtfully, while jeonghan curls up beside you.

OF RAINY NIGHTS AND ROSES - @chenfleur

oneshot, angst, fluff, idol au, est relationship

In the heat of the moment, Jeonghan grows careless with his words. Now, he has to bear the weight of saying things he didn't mean.

DAISIES - @viastro

oneshot, angst, fluff, strangers to lovers

the best type of revenge is to hurt the person that means the most to them. aka, in which jeonghan is in charge of making you fall in love with him, just to break your heart.

JOSHUA HONG

BEST FRIENDS BROTHER - @chocosvt

oneshot, fluff, angst, smut, best friends brother

joshua happens to be your best friend’s older brother. he’s pretty, and he’s got a lot of cool details about him that you pay a concerning amount of attention to, but he’s just a friend (if you could even call it that). still, what does he think of you, anyway? that is—if he thinks of you.

IT TAKES TWO - @/berriesandjunnie

oneshot, fluff, idol au, parent au, est relationship

a family is a little scary when your partner has over millions of fans.

UNTITLED - @/wqnwoos

drabble, fluff, est relationship

"it feels like the sky has only just welcomed the sun when joshua tries to get up to leave."

WEN JUNHUI

HEAVEN COULDN'T WAIT FOR YOU - @/berriesandjunnie

oneshot, angst, idol au

i just couldn’t stand to see you leaving but heaven couldn’t wait for you.

HAPPY ENDING - @junkissed

one shot, angst, fluff, marriage, est relationship

a pointless argument escalates until both of you need some space, but it couldn't come at a worse time.

KWON SOONYOUNG

LET ME TRY AGAIN - @papermatisse

oneshot, angst, fluff, exes to lovers, parent au

Soonyoung had never wanted to live a restrained capitalistic life, forced to work a tiresome 9 to 5, paying taxes until the day he dies. Though in exchange to pursue the other option, that being devotion to a career, he had to pay an unfathomably large price—he had to abandon everything and everyone he's ever loved. can he fit himself back into his former life? one that's changed more than he can possibly imagine? could the ones he loved forgive him for his wrongdoings? could he get the second chance he wants so desperately?

(UN)TRADITIONAL - @neonun-au

oneshot, fluff, wedding au, est relationship

"The digital clock on the hotel night stand flashes the next minute as it passes. A re-run of Law & Order: SVU drones on in the background as you sit at the edge of the bed, staring sleeplessly at your wedding dress hanging on the back of the closet door. "

VOWELS AND VERACITY - @hansolmates

oneshot, fluff, angst, smut, teacher au, single parent

after a blind date that makes you feel like a giddy teenager all over again, you’re forced to grow up and take a chance when you realize that special someone is your daughter’s kindergarten teacher.

BE SWEET - @heartkyeom

oneshot, fluff, angst, smut, royalty, arranged marriage, enemies to lovers

“Why are you here?” Your tone is resolute, not allowing for even an inch of resistance. “That’s what we need to talk about. We’re getting married,” He lifts the corner of his mouth. You let out a laugh that is nowhere near polite, in fact, you’re nearly cackling at the prospect of this idea. It’s simply so outlandish, so fantastical that every time you look at his face it seems more unfathomable.

JEON WONWOO

FOR THE BOOKS - @trblsvt

oneshot, fluff, teacher au, est relationship

wonwoo's students seemed intent on matching him up with a fellow teacher. he didn't really want to stop them, it was too funny for him to break up their fun. plus, he didn't mind the certain someone he was being "set up" with.

HOW TO FALL - @because-of-a-friend

oneshot, fluff, angst, idol au

"hi!! <3 i love ur acc and i was wondering if you'd be able to write an imagine where you're besties with joshua and he invites you to meet the rest of seventeen for the first time and you instantly fall for wonwoo? maybe some angst but overall fluff? thank you!! no rush!! i love your work!!!"

UNTITLED - @/97-liners

oneshot, fluff, royalty au, friends to lovers, childhood friends

"a royalty au where you’re the heir to the throne and wonwoo is your shy (and lowkey bumbling) royal advisor…. he’s smart and always has his head stuck in a book but he’s also painfully awkward and clueless to how deeply in love with him you are. until your parents decide it’s time for you to get married. and suddenly you’re inundated by suitor after suitor, and wonwoo is quizzing them on their credentials and doubting their suitability for you, this one makes brash political decisions, this one spends too freely, this one has no tact for diplomacy. until one day, you turn to him and ask, “you’ve hated every single one of them. who, then, do you think i should marry?” and wonwoo blushes red and presses his lips together."

SCANDAL, PT.2, PT.3, PT.4- @fantasyescapes17

series, angst, fluff, enemies to lovers, regency au

this is part of an extensive series that includes other members! you can check it out ⤳ here

The Viscount's sister with an enormous dowry, beauty and unmistakable talent- you began the London season as the most desired woman in any room. But Jeon Wonwoo (a man who would rather hide in the library than dance at a ball) is beyond your comprehension. Curiosity might have killed the cat, but it embroiled you into a scandal with a man you could never love.

MEET CUTE OF THE CENTURY - @lovelyhan

oneshot, fluff, angst, smut, idol au, strangers to lovers

the last thing you expected when you volunteered at your city’s local animal shelter is to meet the hottest cat person in the world. now if only he’d just adopt one of them so you’d stop ogling him every time he drops by.

MARRIAGE - @yikesmary

drabble, fluff, parent au, est relationship

where wonwoo’s nightmare is coming true.

BIRTHDAY SURPRISE - @/yikesmary

oneshot, fluff, parent au, est relationship

where you and nari try to make breakfast and a cake before wonwoo wakes up… if only your daughter knew what the word “surprise” meant.

LEE JIHOON

GUITAR STRING - @leejungchans

oneshot, fluff, angst, royalty au

"“Take me away.” Jihoon’s elegant fingers, previously plucking at his guitar strings, freeze at your words. The soothing, lullaby-like chords he had been playing echo into the inky darkness, carried away by the chilly night breeze."

WE'LL BE OK - @atinykidult

drabble, angst, fluff, idol au, est relationship

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you” for hurt!Jihoon

LIVE - @wondernus

oneshot, fluff, idol au, est relationship

having just finished composing a song a few hours ago, jihoon starts a live on his phone to sing to those who are feeling a little lonely at night. little does he know, your sleeping figure could be seen in the corner of his little livestream, causing his fans to go crazy.

MWHA - @cheolism

oneshot, fluff, est relationship

three times you said "mwah" at the end of a kiss and one time jihoon said it back

IM DATING WOOZI - @jihoonotes

oneshot, fluff, smau, est relationship, idol au

y/n is in a public relationship w/ woozi of SVTZ and decides to make a twitter acc to support jihoon, but SVTZ fans seem to think they're delusional.

JIHOON'S PUPPY - @rubyreduji

oneshot, angst, fluff, college au

jihoon can’t seem to shake the puppy dog who keeps following him around or the teasing he gets for it

HEARTSTRINGS - @wavelikewhat

oneshot, fluff, strangers to lovers, idol au

You help Jihoon meet an unexpected deadline for a song and he wonders why he can’t stop thinking about you. Luckily his members nudge him toward the answer.

LEE SEOKMIN

WARM ME UP ! - @ponkwan

drabble, fluff, est relationship

the one where you’re on your third date with seokmin.

KIM MNGYU

HOT OR COLD? - @jjuniehao

oneshot, fluff, est relationship

when looking for something on his phone, you find an email you didn’t expect…

BOYFRIEND PHOTOS - @babyleostuff

oneshot, fluff, est relationship, idol au

a sunny date spent with your precious boyfriend

XU MINGHAO

THE LETTER - @toruro

oneshot, fluff, angst, smut, brothers best friend, childhood friends to lovers, idol au

in which you’re jun's little sister and have been pining for a man so close yet so out of reach for ages. now, years later, when you see minghao all grown up, famous, and still making your heart flutter, you're not so sure what to do about your not-so-little crush.

BOO SEUNGKWAN

A BEAUTIFUL LIFE - @sungbeam

oneshot, fluff, childhood friends, est relationship

Boo Seungkwan asked you to marry him beneath the shade of an orange tree.

CHWE VERNON

ACCIDENTALLY IN LOVE - @suhnshinehaos

series, fluff, angst, childhood friends to lovers, arranged marriage, smau

the one where you get into an arranged marriage with your childhood best friend vernon, but neither of you seem to mind that much

UNTITLED - @/wqnwoos

drabble, fluff, est relationship, idol au

“vernon, we need to talk.”

OR, WOULD YOU RATHER IT BE ME? - @thepixelelf

oneshot, fluff, childhood friends to lovers, college au, soulmate au

A detested soulmark, a friendship over a decade in the making, and an unexpected proposal from one friend to another… what could possibly go wrong?

LEE CHAN

SOME THINGS NEVER CHANGE - @/berriesandjunnie

oneshot, fluff, est relationship, parent au, idol au

no matter what stage in life you’re at, or after all these years, you can count on his hyungs to still treat him the same.

08:23 AM - @wheeboo

drabble, fluff, est relationship, idol au

in which chan is late to dance practice.

want recs for other groups? check out my navigation → here!

#fic lists📃#seventeen fic recs #svt recs #seventeen fics #seventeen x reader #svt angst #svt fluff #svt smut #seventeen idol au #svt fanfic #seventeen dad au #seventeen smau #seventeen friends to lovers au #seventeen parent au #seventeen recs

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ickadori · 5 months

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OMG I love you mean reader au, I have a question!!

¿Does the reader ever makes Yuuji jealous on purpose? Maybe with someone they don't see as often because everyone close knows Yuujis girl backs and also bites , so I can see her doing it with maybe someone from Kyoto.

I feel Yuuji is the kind to let it pass or act oblivious cuz he knows I would piss her off but when they are on private he let's her know that playing stupid games lead you to win stupid prices.

Anyways as you can see I'm super super invested in you au, you are an amazing writer❤️

[cws] fem reader. i named the kyoto student ryo. sukuna takes over at the end. anal at the end. overstimulation. half a sprinkle of impact play -> like 2 spanks.

You’re always so dismissive to everyone, especially to those who aren’t in your inner circle. If you don’t interact with them on a daily basis, you couldn’t care less to hear what they have to say, and it’s not an unusual sight to see you rudely walk away mid conversation.

The same could be said for the Kyoto students.

You weren’t friendly with any of them, and had even ended up on bad terms with a few due to your nature. Yuji had been sure he was going to have to intervene in at least five times with the same person in order to keep the peace during their impromptu visit, but to his surprise, to everyone’s surprise, you had been on your best behavior.

You had greeted everyone, albeit with an annoyed ‘hey’ followed by a roll of your eyes, but that was leagues better than what you had done last year! When Todo had intruded on you and Yuji’s conversation, you hadn’t tried to smash Maki’s cursed tool against his head like you usually do, but had rather pursed your lips and excused yourself from the conversation, leaving him to listen to tales about Takada and other nonsensical things.

All in all, the day was going alright. You hadn’t gotten into a heated argument with anyone, nor had he sensed any spikes in cursed energy for the last hour or so that you had been out of his sight. Deciding that he’d just about enough of Todo droning on and on about the feeling of Takada’s hand in his own, Yuji begins to plot his escape.”

“It was a riveting—”

“You heard that?” Yuji cuts Todo off, eyebrows furrowed as he cups his hand to his ear. “I think that’s my girlfriend screaming in agonizing pain—gotta go.” He jogs away, ignoring the call of his name, and snickers to himself as he rounds the corner, one hand slipping into his pocket to retrieve his phone.

Just where are you, he thinks to himself as he scrolls to your contact, a smile breaking out onto his face at the sight of your contact picture. It showcased you giving him an annoyed look, face scrunched up cutely as you had your hand raised, a failed attempt to block your face from the camera. He shoots you a quick text asking where you are, followed by a barrage of heart emojis and kiss emojis, and he stops in front of the vending machine as he waits for your reply, deciding to buy himself and you a drink.

He’s halfway through his soda when you suddenly come rounding the corner, and he smiles as he pockets his phone, only for his smile to falter a bit when he notices that you’re smiling too, at someone that isn’t him—which isn’t a problem in and of itself! Yuji isn’t some crazy jealous guy, but it’s weird to see you look so… jolly. Who are you talking to?

A second person comes around the corner, and his face sours as he recognizes it as Kyoto’s newest 3rd year, Ryo. Yuji tries to be friendly with everyone, but he written the man off from the moment he saw him, not liking the way his eyes had raked you up and down while you had standing right beside Yuji—what was he, blind? It had been so obvious the two of you were together, what with the way Yuji had been trying to fuse your mouths together.

“Yuji,” you call, eyes crinkling as you grab ahold of Ryo’s wrist and pulls him over. Yuji takes another sip of his soda, cursing to himself when he feels Sukuna start to stir inside him. “You remember Ryo, right?”

It’s a tease—he knows it is. He had spent the better half of an hour that day complaining to you about him, while Sukuna had laughed and suggested he ‘pluck his fucking eyes out next time, brat, problem solved’, which he would never do, obviously, but the idea was a bit enticing…especially now, as Yuji is forced to watch the way Ryo takes in your ass when you stretch up to place a kiss on his cheek while you take your drink from his hand.

“He says he’s been thinking about transferring here, right?” You direct your attention to Ryo as you spin around, his eyes darting up to your face, and Yuji can’t keep his clear annoyance off his face.

“Right. I’m really liking the vibe here for some reason.” He grins, and Yuji nearly drags you away in response.

“Hm. Wonder why that is?” You giggle, fucking giggle, and an anger that’s part his own and part his curse’s begins to fester in his gut. Yuji sees the two of you stiffen, no doubt due to Sukuna’s sudden spike in energy, and he gathers the back of your shirt in his hand, the veins along the back of his hand protruding as he tugs you back into him. “Y… Yuji?”

“Yeah, it’s me.” His chin hovers over your shoulder as he stares Ryo down, and something must show in his eyes then, because Ryo is flinching back and stuttering over his words as he takes slow steps back. “Did you want Sukuna?”

“No.” You hastily reply, and the bottle in your hand crinkles as your grip on it tightens.

“‘S that because you think I’m gonna go easy on you?”

“…”

“Because I’m not.”

The unmistakable ‘plap plap’ of Yuji’s hips snapping into your own is loud in the confined space, and you lift a shaky hand, intending on using it to push at his stomach. It’s snatched and pushed down against your chest before you can even fully raise it, and your mouth opens on a silent cry when he slams his cock into you.

“Yu—!”

He grunts, the hand that had been holding him above you moving to cover your mouth, leaving him no choice but to crush you with his weight. “Don’t -shit- call my name.” He rasps, beads of sweat rolling down the slope of his nose just as he rolls his hips into your, pelvis grinding down against your clit with every movement.

You’re sensitive, sore, and every touch, every stroke, sends a pleasurable pain zapping through your body. You don’t know how many times you’ve come, or how long it’s been since Yuji practically dragged you into a supply closet and got you down on your back, with Sukuna goading him on the entire time.

‘You gonna finally put her in her place, brat?’

‘Y’know she’s gonna do it again unless you punish her.’

‘Look how she was smiling. She did it on purpose. You’re too soft on her - let me deal with it.’

‘What’re you doing, idiot? Get your mouth off her cunt. Is this a fucking reward or a punishment?’

‘Slap her around—shut up, girl. Do it. She likes it, see? Look at the mess she’s making on our cock.’

A particularly hard thrust has your eyes rolling and your toes curling in your loafers, and your mouth falls open when he brushes against that spot, eyebrows pulling together as a fresh bout of tears spring to your eyes.

“You crying now?” Sukuna snarks, and Yuji falters, his eyes popping open from where they had been squeezed shut to look at your face. “Don’t fucking stop, she’s fine, she’s—”

“Yuji.”

“Sweet girl,” he answers, hands moving to cup the sides of your face. “Don’t cry - are you sensitive?” You weakly nod, cunt fluttering as he runs his nose along your cheek. “Do you want me to be softer? Just tell…” Yuji goes slack against you, and your eyes widen, hands moving to push at his shoulders, only for them to tense under your grip as a low laugh leaves him.

“Sukuna,” it comes out in a pitiful whine, and you wince at the slow drag of his cock along your walls as he pulls out, thick shaft sliding up between your folds as he bumps the head against your clit.

“It’s been a while,” his head pulls back, allowing you to see the grin stretched across his face, and you drop your gaze as you keep your mouth, earning another laugh. “What? Don’t tell me you’re scared.” His touch is rough as he grips at your sides, nails biting into your skin, and you gasp when he’s suddenly flipping you over, one hand leaving your waist to smack at your ass. “Do it how I like it.”

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you shuffle so you’re up on your knees, butt lifted into the air while your chest is flush to the floor. Sukuna smacks you again, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass, and you can’t help the moan that slips out when he spreads you open, his hips jutting forward so he can rut his cock against your cunt, a jolt racing up your spine when he goes over your clit.

“Ah, poor pussy is sensitive, yeah?” His tone is mocking, but you nod nonetheless. “Hm.” He pops the tip into your hole, fucking it in just a bit before pulling it back out to continue what he was doing. “Guess we’ve gotta pick another hole then, don’t we?”

“Suku—ah!” His hand reaches underneath you to deliver a swift slap to your cunt, fingers catching your clit, and you let out a pitiful little whimper.

“Quiet.” He spreads you open further, and a shaky breath leaves you when a glob of split lands on your puckered hole, his thumb spreading the wetness around before slowly pushing it in. “Only the good little girls get to speak.”

His cockhead replaces his thumb, and your breath comes out in pants as he eases himself in, stretching you impossibly wide as he forces himself to fit.

“I hope you’re watching, brat — no worries if you aren’t, I don’t mind repeating the lesson later.”

#yuji x reader #sukuna x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #++ yuji/brat

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sunboki · 5 months

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⎯ THE DEVIL'S PLAYTHING a Christopher Bahng fiction

💣 : Christopher Bahng x fem. reader

TROPE. bodyguard au, demon au, friends to lovers, eventual smut, minors DNI

WORD COUNT. 6.6k words

WARNINGS. chan & han are demons(NO POLY), mentions of lucifer/the devil, eventual smut, descriptive violence, smoking, fighting, cursing, blood, wounds, drinking, reader gets drunk/passes out

PLAYLIST

AUG'S NOTES. this started as a random blurb while in the bathroom(tmi i know) but i just HAD to make a longer adaptation!! as usual, if you enjoy the fic please feel free to leave feedback & a reblog!ised ya’ll bodyguard chan would be back.. your wish is my command~

SYNOPSIS. A petty robbery leads to deep debt for Chan, a white-eyed demon occupying Hell. So eventually, he finds himself faced with no choice but to go job hunting. The best offer available? A bodyguard gig in the human realm. Oh, and the worst part? Jisung’s here too.

or alternatively :

When Chan had to leave Hell to "babysit" (a.k.a. protect) you in the human realm, he wasn’t expecting for things to turn out the way they did — in more ways than one.

SMUT WARNING. usage of the nickname “bunny” and “good girl”, somewhat hinted size kink, praise, dumbification, barely dubcon (reader gives consent ; nonverbal), creampie, chan cums inside (use protection ya’ll), monsterfucking! basically lmao

There’s an infinite list of reasons why humans shouldn’t associate with demons. But was it really all that important? Maybe the humans wanted it.

Or, maybe the demons did too.

Maybe, the demons didn’t have a choice.

What a funny thought.

Although, for Christopher Bahng, a demon himself, it was reality.

So the real question stood. Is it the humans that shouldn’t associate with demons, or the other way around?

The thought occurred to Chan at some point, but his head, ringing with the sound of silver coins clattering on glass surfaces, drowned out every ounce of sensibility. Blood, flesh, he was a demon. And right now, he had hell to pay as Lucifer’s underling. No pun intended.

Demons were an ideal choice for bodyguards, too obsessed with their own greed to pay any mind to the consequences, dogs to somebody else’s beckon, minds trained like hunting dogs.

Taking care of the dirty work, for a price.

A price that Chan needed, desperately. Because one thing demons, including himself, love doing is tormenting.

That is until he’s the victim of the tormenting, and all of a sudden the experience doesn’t feel too welcoming.

Raiding his home was an understatement considering they had utterly demolished every inch, not leaving a single fragment remaining in one piece. Granted, he didn’t cry about it. Instead, he lived up to his name, his title.

..Let’s just say he doubted the red stains would ever leave that shirt of his, metallic scent strong enough to make your nose burn.

Unfortunately, Lucifer wasn’t the greatest at forgiving, and he determined rather quickly this was only the start of his problems regardless of how sweetly the demon lord threatened explained he would dissolve Chan into ash if he ever got tired of him.

Alas, two weeks later, he gets a call.

Combing a frustrated hand through raven-colored locks, he holds the phone up to his ear, repeatedly snapping his fingers. The girl kneeled between his legs raises up begrudgingly, wiping her mouth and disappearing into his bathroom.

Well there goes a good blowjob.

Yet, finally, a job was proposed.

Multiple, according to the drone of a fumbling assistant. Jobs comprised of one he’d primarily work and occasional hitman gigs on the side.

Catch? The job was located in the human realm. Not impossible, but not as easy as sleuthing in Hell, where common folk were demons and not big-eyed, nosy, mind-your-damn-business-mortals.

The job in question? Babysitting. Specifically for Lucifer's right-hand man, otherwise known as the Devil’s Plaything. And, despite not being a demon, served Lucifer as if he was one. How cute.

Or as the trauma-induced auditor phrased it, “guarding” some girl.

“Guarding” was something he was mildly familiar with, but never a human. Never in the human realm. So when the suggestion was offered, Chan’s first instinct was to reject—remind Hell’s moderator that he wasn’t just a regular, but a demon of impressive status. A white-eyed demon, who, in fact, ranged most powerful of its kind.

His first instinct was also to punch the man working at the register of this putrid smelling burger joint right in the face, maybe frame his head as a part of a collection while he’s at it. Demons are creative like that.

Because being in this situation, nonetheless currently walking around in the human realm he swore to never step foot in has his stomach jarring.

“Chan, look at this! It’s called K-E-T-C-H-U-P, what a funny name!”

Oh. Yeah. The walking headache, Han Jisung. Forgot he’s here too.

Digging through his pockets for spare change, all he could find was a few meager pennie’s as the obnoxious noise of his demon-companion scarfing down a double cheeseburger had Chan’ jaw progressively tightening.

“Um, sir, that’s not enough to pay for-“ Without hesitation, Chan lifted his upper lip with his index, revealing the sharply pointed canines underneath and effectively silencing the apron-clad employee, frantically printing his receipt without another word.

Yes, apparently there are perks of being a hell-spawn.

Although, the burger still tasted like shit. What a shame.

Heading to the location wasn’t all too difficult, being that it was rather easy locating such an enormous property surrounded by tall, black hinged gates. The passcode… was another story.

Lucifer was likely laughing his ass off watching them try figuring this out.

“Okay, It’s probably like 666 or something- JESUS— you guys scare me sometimes.” Clutching a hand to his erratic heart with panic, a pacing Jisung nearly toppled over as his soon-to-be Boss suddenly appeared out of nowhere, gates slowly opening behind him.

He may not be a Demon, but by how nonchalantly he appeared from thin air, he seemed to gain some attributes over the years.

It didn’t take long for either of them to figure out why the title “Devil’s Plaything” was attached, because the more he toured them around this palace of a house, the more he told of his reasons for hiring them in the first place. Well, more like why Lucifer sent them here.

Easily speaking, his and Jisung’s role would be to protect you at all costs, considering your father’s current predicament (a.k.a coming under investigation for the bodies discovered in Hanuel Park). Not to mention the countless assassins sent on a daily basis, scouring the property for entryways.

Although he’s not surprised by their hesitance. This man, Yoon L/N, was the closest resemblance to the Devil on Earth.

He was terrifying, and coming from a demon, that said a lot.

Chan has to watch his tongue, because he’s not guarding another one of hell’s representatives, a creature of unprecedented rudeness and hatred, he’s guarding a human.

Someone who falls in love and cries, someone who can’t get away with murder when they’re annoyed and go uncharged.

Humans are pitiful. They’re emotional and too trusting and—

You step down the stairs.

They’re pretty and soft and really, really fucking pretty.

The sound of your father clearing his throat rips him from his trance, your trance.

He can practically sense Jisung choking on his laughter.

“Y/n, these are your bodyguards. Bahng, Han, this is Y/n,” He gestures, and Chan notes the gleaming watch on his wrist.

Best guess that thing’s averaging $70,000. Not to mention that this entire house, though naked to the human eye, is laced in traps.

Whether it’s the more hollow wooden plank on the floor that triggers some alarm or the multitude of switches under your kitchen’s island, the security system is certainly intact, and for good reason.

However, you couldn't have made Yoon L/n’s actions look more hypocritical, appearing so opposingly sweet.

“Nice to meet you,” You hold out a hand.

He doesn’t miss the half-smile you give him.

Shit. Don’t look at him like that.

Introducing themselves, you momentarily slip past, and in your stead, your father beckons either of them to the side.

“I’ll only say this once,” Yoon smiles, but it’s a leery smile, one that causes his gums to gradually show, like it’d belong to a murderer, a serial killer of some kind.

Fitting.

“Get her into danger, hurt her, or disobey my orders under any circumstances and I kill you, understood?”

And even though at the snap of a finger Chan could have this man drop dead, he believed him, both simultaneously nodding their heads without complaint.

Meeting eyes with Jisung, a common denominator sits heavy between them, most likely the first thing they’ve whole-heartedly agreed on this entire time.

This is gonna be one hell of a job.

.. .

District 9’s nightclubs are always a bust. If you’re looking for a drink without it being laced you might as well give up, and the only thing that keeps a person from getting swept away in the expansive sea of high heels, go-go boots, and awkward teenagers that miraculously managed to get past the bouncer is a lone, blinking red sign that reads “OUT”.

The first time you ever came here you never thought you’d be so relieved to open a squealing door.

Leaning against the side of the brick building sits the girl responsible for an entourage of drunk-calls and random texts of her location when she sneaks out.

Her moth-eaten sneakers are pulled up to her chest, bleached hair messily arranged into a spiky up-do while she aimlessly scrolls on her phone. Although you know she’s noticed you by now.

“I feel like..” She sighs, black mascara smudged beneath her waterline. “I should’ve taken that Vodka shot.”

You wrinkle your nose, dropping down on her left.

It’s fairly easy conversing with Ha-joon, a girl who didn’t require a reaction or a response, who didn’t talk much but had a whole pocketful of opinions. And you listened.

She swivels her head ever so slightly toward you.

“Do you think drinking a laced shot will make my life more interesting?” Her remark scarily nonchalant, you chuckle, snatching the joint from between her thumb and index and tossing it against the neighboring business’ wall in front of you.

Unfazed, she rises to her feet, pulling a Marlboro pack from her back pocket, palm cupping the lighter’s flickering flame.

“If you count fentanyl as a good time, then sure,” Lifting your chin to cock a sarcastic brow, she rolls her eyes before abruptly snapping her fingers, remembering. The sound ricochets off trash bags stashed at the furthest end of this deserted alleyway.

“You said your Mafia-daddy hired new bodyguards?”

Ah, you forgot you mentioned that.

Don’t mind the “Mafia-daddy” part.

Nodding, there’s a beat of stillness before she lightly nudges your calf with her shoe, Ha-joon’s sign for you to list some sort of detailed description for her to piece together.

This happens every time you meet somebody new. Her little guessing game before the first impression, apparently.

And so you do, spilling information to the best of your capabilities from the fifteen seconds you met them. Their hair, height, eyes (you recall Han’s especially, huge and hypnotizing like black-holes), clothing, and all the details your jumbled brain can pour out to your overly eager, easily bored best friend.

“So this Chan guy..”

One clever glance and you’re already predicting her next words.

“Does he have a big nose?” Smirk growing the darker your cheeks redden, you pathetically groan, burying your face in your hands.

Of course she’s cornered you, because you can’t deny your yes of an answer without evidently lying and digging further into your self-made rabbit hole.

Leave it to Ha-joon to secretly slip the raunchiest sentence you'll hear all night.

Smugness gradually dissipating, the barely-blonde shuffles back down, phone screen displaying countless messages you don't ask about.

Like earlier, Ha-joon doesn’t talk much, but she has a lot to say. Additionally, if she doesn’t bring it up herself, don’t mention it.

Years by her side taught you that.

“They’re only gonna get you in trouble, I have a feeling,” She murmurs prior to taking a long drag of her cigarette, lipstick shade perfectly contrasting with the soaring puff of smoke sifting from her mouth and nose upon exhaling.

She’s always been on the rougher side. Spontaneously rough, the type that would impulsively send you a text she’s going backpacking tomorrow despite an exam scheduled, the type that would continuously run away on a whim.

In essence, everyone on campus has some sort of crush on her (apart from yourself, obviously), whether it comes down to her rumbling persona or how much of a hard-core lesbian she is, you’re not sure.

You click your tongue, glaring at her flippantly.

“And that’s not doing you any better.” Musing in regards to her bad habits, she laughs lowly, low-rise jeans bagging down by her ankles while bending closer.

Your hands brace in anticipation, coughing when she blows a heavy smoke plume right in your face.

You choke a giggle, shoving her senselessly giggling frame.

“The only thing I’m letting do me is that waitress in there,” Painted nails pointing to the entrance while making utterly obscene gestures, you dramatically gag.

Well, until she spins on her heel, fetching a plastic bag holding two bottles of Cass beer from behind a metal trash can.

You tilt your head, the girl wordlessly cracking one open with her teeth and the other using the junction of her shoulder.

‘A Ha-joon thing’, you think as she hands you a glass, chilled exterior sending an unwelcoming wave of shivers throughout your body.

Your initial response is to decline, but her index to your lips shushes your reasons.

“I know you don’t drink often, but just a few sips just this once, please?” Batting invisible puppy-dog eyes, you sigh, gulping down a haphazard swig.

Last time you had genuinely gotten drunk was back in junior year of high school, all the kids swarmed in a rando’s basement, acting appropriately irresponsible for your age.

You recall your fat crush on Hwang Hyunjin (before realizing he was actually in a relationship) being the main component in getting so drunk that you blacked out, though you’re sure the highly unflattering pictures Ha-joon took would jog your memory.

Yet just a few sips was an understatement, something you should’ve known. Because conversation turns into more conversation, funny conversation, deep conversation while your wrist unconsciously lifts to your mouth till your friend transforms into nothing but a blurry figure illuminated by the moon.

And you wonder, as you feel yourself tilt further and further toward the cement below, if Ha-joon will snap unflattering pictures of this moment too, of stupid decisions leading to stupid consequences.

Most likely.

.. .

"Mmm." You mumble, face stuffed into his sleeve as Chan carries you from the alleyway, ushering a loopy Ha-joon into a taxi with a short bow.

Clad in his work attire primarily made up of black elements, he carefully places you in the back seat of the SUV and pulls off his dark coat to wrap around your body, ensuring you're fully swaddled to secure as much warmth as possible from the biting cold.

"We're going home, so hang on just a bit longer for me." The man assures, patting your head lightly before sliding into the driver's seat and pressing his foot to the gas.

Han, who was sitting in the back beside you while Chan drove, took experimental peeks at the pink-hue decorating your cheeks (evidence that you'd be drunk) to your puffy lips pursed in a pout.

He internally squeals, fiddling with his phone in his pocket, unveiled demon tail practically wagging with glee.

"Hyung, can I? Pleasee Hyung- just one photo she looks so cute–“

“No." The older of them responds sternly, one hand clutching the steering wheel.

As much as he normally wouldn’t care, this was his- their first actual order in fulfilling their duties, and Chan wasn’t willing to pay the price of fucking up Yoon’s guidelines.

His companion huffs, deflating by your side as he directs a childish frown at Chan in the mirror, only met with an equally stern gaze reading "no nonsense".

Chan had always been one to take his job seriously, not that Han didn't, he just liked having a little bit of fun jumping from side to side across those permanent marker drawn lines.

In actuality, if it weren't for his friend, Han would've never gotten the job in the first place.

Stark glowing of your houses’ lights lining the driveway ripped away his thought process, quickly intervening when your door opened.

"I can carry her," He claims, arms crossed while the older bodyguard simply cocks a brow, an action that shouldn't have Jisung shying away like he was.

There's an immense staring contest until Chan releases a hefty sigh, gesturing for Jisung to go ahead.

"If you drop her, I kill you, then myself."

This earns a giggle while Han unbuckles your seatbelt, softly cooing with you lying in his arms.

You're cute, very cute in fact.

Very off limits, in fact, he reminds himself, grip tightening the creepier he pictures your father—and it’s the adorable scrunch of your nose in discomfort that reminds him of his strength, immediately relaxing his hold.

Like Chan said, any wrong moves and they're both off the radar in seconds. Business.

The entirety of it all was a bit hilarious considering how things were when you'd first been introduced to the two, not appearing to be the type to get drunk like this, to get drunk at all in a secluded area next to some nightclub.

Chan wasn’t wrong when he said it’s always a surprise with clients.

Well, he was referring to his hitman job then, but it's still applicable in this situation, right?

…Right?

Forget it.

Slowly, oh so slowly your eyes peel open, instantly noticing the familiar smell and interior that definitely wasn't where you'd been five minutes ago with Ha-joon.

Ah. There he is.

Chan.

Peering over where you're tucked in bed, dressed in pajamas.

Hold on, pajamas?

Scrambling up and simultaneously wincing from the throbbing headache settling a dull ring in your ears, you send him an incredulous stare, face incessantly warming the longer you think about it.

Hangovers provide another of the many reasons why you don’t drink anymore, because this hellish predicament led to a single hellish explanation you certainly didn’t want to face.

"You... My clothes.." Stumbling over how to phrase it, you suppress a scowl watching the ghost of a grin make its way on his lips. Maybe you're imagining it.

One of his veiny hands reaches up to cover his eyes, leaving you to instead infatuate upon plush lips moving when he speaks.

"My job description, along with the papers you read and signed before I was hired gave me consent, but whatever I see is strictly confidential between you and I."

Gathering your sanity, you scoff, humiliation and embarrassment flooding your system at an alarming rate.

Flopping back onto the bed, you slam a pillow over your face, muttering a "strictly confidential my ass" that he had to have heard from the low laugh uttered in reply.

He stalks over, fingertip tapping the water you hadn’t noticed sitting atop your nightstand.

Cautiously stealing a glimpse out from your pillow to see where he distanced himself across the room, you finish the cup in a swift motion, wiping your mouth with the back of your sleeve.

“You huma- You aren’t good with your alcohol, are you?” He starts, quite entertained witnessing your annoyed gaze, one which very noticeably doesn’t stay focused on his eyes.

Sucking your teeth, you slouch, mirroring his crossed arms.

You’re fine with playing feisty, and by the awfully attractive way he’s cocking his head, he’s also willing to join this biting game.

“And what makes you think that?”

“Because I’m never passed out and in need of someone to call for me when I go drinking.”

At this you practically hiss, grasping any futile chance to retaliate to no avail.

Opposed to his teasing nature, he drags a stool to your bedside, insisting you drink more.

Even more opposing, a gentle hand presses to your forehead, checking that you haven't contracted a fever.

To say your heartbeat pounded didn’t credit the surprise to its full extent, and thank whatever God above the experience only lasted a few more seconds, giving you plenty of time to freshen your haywire sensibility and brush your teeth before any more soul-sucking Chan run-ins continued.

You should’ve known better than to think he’d truly leave you be though, said soul-sucking bodyguard currently propped against the bathroom’s door frame.

“How did you get into this anyway? Y’know, bodyguard stuff..” You begin to ask, voice muffled from the toothbrush deterring any fully audible sentence.

He cocks an eyebrow.

“I have my ways.”

“Your ways?”

Within split seconds he’s right next to you, making rather intentional eye contact through the mirror.

You inhale sharply.

“Look, sweetness, my job as your bodyguard is to keep you safe,” He pokes his tongue into his cheek. “And if I tell you, I can’t guarantee that.”

There are three things you realized in that moment.

One, Chan is so, so close.

Two, he has an unfairly gorgeous face.

And three, your mouth is smeared with toothpaste.

Great.

You’d like to admit the first night of meeting these new bodyguards, more specifically Chan, went as normal and as non-Ha-joon-influenced as possible, but this effect on you causing your bloodstream to erupt in a hormonal frenzy of attraction told you the story had just begun.

.. .

"Jisung. Hold. Still! Keep moving and this wand is going in your eyeball."

Three weeks in and one thing after another has lead you closer and closer with either of them, whether it's convincing Jisung to go on ice cream runs (where Chan always ends up tagging along) or attempting to remain focused while they help you study (more like trying not to laugh at Jisung and averting your eyes off of Chan’s biceps in that muscle-shirt of his), the three of you are practically conjoined at the hip, and not on bodyguard standards.

"Okay okay! I was itchy. Can you move the piece of hair by my eyebrow?" He whines, grasping an apologetic squeeze on your waist while you focus in his lap.

You’re currently brushing mascara through his unfairly long lashes, but if anyone saw this without knowing the situation, chaos would likely unfold.

Although for you and Jisung, it's your average Friday night spent watching the weekly scary movie he’d decided on, Insidious. One he’d been commenting on for the past thirty minutes or so about how the “representation of demon’s was wrong” while you absentmindedly agreed, looping your index around the strand before abruptly stopping.

Residing slightly above his temple lay a scar, a decently sized scar at that.

Strangely enough, it's circular, like some type of horn or something had been there at some point. Maybe a biking incident?

"Ji?”

The boy's eyes drift up to you.

"What's this scar?"

Below you, he freezes, frantically thinking up the best excuse.

Lots of options, not a lot of time to decide.

"Ah.. that? When I was younger, I developed a weird kind of bump there, 'had it removed." And thankfully, you grunt a response, resorting back to applying his makeup.

Truth be told, those scars (another you hadn't seen yet) were his old horns, forced to be removed in order to initially land this job.

It still sends shivers down his spine thinking about when they had first been cut off, the recovery process resembling something out of nightmares.

Trust, the headaches were awful.

Chan, on the other hand, could keep his, considering he had the ability to conceal them on command. For Jisung, an inferior red-eyed demon with a few years beneath him and in such desperate need for income, chose the painful way through. As for his tail, that was luckily simple to hide (much to his pleasure).

Nevertheless, you could confidently say that your test-subject could easily land a modeling career after your makeover, and by the way he kept staring at the mirror, he seemed equally as enamored as you.

Well, that’s before a jumpscare leaps upon the screen and either of you shoot up, your clumsy companion whacking himself in the face with the mirror.

Staving your giggles, you try soothing the boy; you really do, but the uncannily gory scene that decorates the screen has you cringing back, and when you look at Jisung, expecting to find him cowering, your blood runs cold.

His lips are parted, but the only thing your horrified eyes are drawn to are the hooked canines peeking there. Not to mention his eyes.

Ghastly crimson, glowing.

Except when you breathe in an unsteady gasp, his head snaps to you, sudden facade appearing unaltered, like you hadn't seen something borderline terrifying.

Softly pulling your face close to him despite the screaming instinct to flee, he observes your bewildered expression, brows taut with concern.

“Y/n?”

Sweet tone contradicting, you immediately double backward toward your bedroom door, awkwardly honing the “I’m going to bed” excuse in hopes that suffices for the night.

Frenziedly closing the door, you determine rather quickly you don’t plan to go to sleep. Not that you think you could, but because this discovery isn’t normal.

None of this is normal.

How they found your location back at the alley despite Ha-joon never contacting anyone, how you “coincidentally” walked in on Chan “washing” his hands despite the water running red. Oh and you can’t forget about the rag left behind, putrid stench characteristic to a specific substance.

Blood.

You weren’t stupid. No father disappears the majority of the year on so-called “business trips” only to come back with new cuts and scratches he makes a sorry effort denying, and no daughter of his has literal bodyguards (yet you’re not sure they’re even official bodyguards thanks to your suspicions) glued to her side 24/7.

He does something dangerous, you know without doubt. But according to this hunch of yours, your father may not be the only one tied up in illegal madness.

.. .

Slipping into the car unknown to them was far easier than you anticipated.

You didn't plan on sneaking in in the first place, sure, but upon overhearing their hushed conversation regarding some type of “target”, you assumed whatever topic they were discussing may answer a select few of your billions of burning questions.

So, crouched in the floorboard of the backseat, you try muting your breathing, noting the clutter of metal sounding from your left, whatever responsible assumed to be shoved in the trunk.

Weapons. No mistaking it.

Your discovery is short-lived however, and you flatten yourself the best you can as Han twists around in his seat to grab something, already thirty minutes into your nearly secret mission.

Shit.

His shocked scream tells you enough.

Chan is fuming.

"Jisung, you told me she was asleep. So care to explain why the fuck she's in the back of the car?"

Han frantically flails. "For the record I told you she was lying down–”

"I. Don't. Care! She's not supposed to be here and all that matters right now is that she's at home and in bed, understood?"

As Jisung's lips pull into a tight line and Chan cranks the gear shift into drive, you glance around, a sudden–though risky–idea coming to mind.

"Hey, I could always tag along?"

"No!" They both shout in unison, heads jerking back to face you as if you suggested driving off a cliff.

That sounded much better in your head anyway.

Well there goes that.

Or so you thought.

Because unfortunately for them, wherever needed them needed them urgently, and through many clearly vocalized “she is staying in the car”’s, you weren’t driven home after all.

Fluorescent green lights cast an eerie glow across the perimeter, the location gnawing at your gut. An equestrian center by exterior, though there’s something else.

Wrong. You can’t explain it, but this place is wrong.

Discreetly unloading the guns, you skin crawls observing Chan messily stuff bullets into the magazine of a M240, the mere size of the thing setting your nerves ablaze. And as rightful asking questions seems, you can’t.

That feeling from earlier glues your mouth shut, like if you spoke too loudly, someone, something, would find you.

Thick foliage lay highlighted by your headlights, paving depth into sequential darkness.

You squint, zoning in on a small expanse of branches ajar. An ideal hiding spot.

Wait.

Bright flashes of iron spur your legs into motion, the switchblade cleaning slicing your wrist while mid-duck.

It forks into the car’s interior where the trunk had been opened, your cry of pain muffled by Jisung who basically throws himself inside a stall with you, the stomping of horse’s hooves muting your ragged breathing.

Firing belonging to none other than the machine gun Chan had been wielding pierces the air outside as either of you stay pressed to the stable wall, the pad of footsteps drawing nearer, causing your eyes to squeeze shut.

This is it. You’re going to die.

Much to your relief, it’s Chan, tactical holsters slightly torn, sweat beading his forehead.

The two share a look, remaining silent before delivering an eventual, affirming nod.

Short-lived.

An additional attacker sifts from the shadows, facial expression ushering no other logic than to kill.

Manic eyes, estranged eyes.

The older bodyguard spins, successfully blocking the first hit. Supplies are scattered everywhere, horses beginning to shift uncomfortably.

The perpetrator is faster, smaller, and lands a decent punch into his abdomen. However, the attack is futile, and just before he can stake his knife into Chan’s leg does the bigger man utilize his own weapon, ammunition positively bludgeoning every square inch of the assailant in baited seconds.

You understand why machine guns are strictly used for long range now.

Immediately, soft numbness floods your senses due to Han’s hands covering your eyes and ears, and you sit there for a while, blocked from the grotesque view of impalpable violence being enacted right before you.

You’d forgotten you were huddled together on the other side of the wall, too horrifically immersed.

It's strange. So much is strange.

These two men that you've grown effortlessly close to, grown effortlessly friends with, murder. Defensively in this case, yes, but they hadn’t brought those guns by chance, they brought them by intention.

Not just a twisted hobby like dissecting animals or something along those lines, but murder.

You’re sure they have their reasons, but it's difficult even imagining it. People who are extremely gentle when with you, responsible for such doings.

Talk about a duality.

The faint clatter of gun shells rattling against the marble flooring earns a subtle flinch, Jisung's hands cupping closer to your skin.

Then you smell it, what he'd warned you of no matter the cleanliness of the job.

A metallic, burning scent of blood, causing your nose to burn and your throat to grow increasingly dry.

Your stomach churns.

"You don't forget that smell" Chan had said before leaving the vehicle, and you knew what he was referring to now.

Putrid reek of rot and gunpowder beckon your lungs into fight or flight, but you remain still, ignoring the sharp sting of your wrist, bubbling blood dripping down your arm and onto the floor below, right atop your shoe.

Faint falling of bullet shells put an end to the fighting, then you’re blindly directed out the door without so much as a glance behind you. For your own good, you assume.

Hell, you’re not certain they’ll be much left of the bodies after Chan’s wrath.

As for right now, your top priority is your wrist. Swollen, skin tainted a grueling red shade.

Speeding home, you find yourself blurily recalling events, though all the little details simply swirl into strange shapes.

Shock is what it’s called. That state of monotonous wandering, occurrence too unfamiliar to take in, senses turning off. A coping mechanism of some sort.

Blearily you see the two men, talking, stepping out of the room, grabbing medical supplies. Like you’re in a time warp, dreaming. No pain, hurt.

On the other hand, your bodyguards were frantic, spewing curses and scouring the household for proper first aid materials.

Meanwhile, Chan was finally wrapping your wound in the bandages Jisung spotted, blinking madly in hopes his fogging headspace eased up.

Demons and wounds were not a good combination. Especially not human wounds.

Uncontrollable urges instructed him to tear you apart right this minute, do something, anything to quench that inexplicably demanding thirst.

Vulnerable, easy prey. His thoughts chanted, forcing him to step out of the room for a moment to where Jisung perched, close-pin fastened on his nose to block the mouth-watering smell.

“I’m losing my fucking mind,” He heaves, carding stressed fingers through matted hair.

“What, a little blood getting to a white-eyed demon?” His companion muses, hastily dodging Chan’s swinging fist. Immune to his threats.

It’s obvious to Jisung that’s only half of the story, but he’ll wait for his superior to admit it himself.

“It’s not just the blood,” He inhales deeply, gratefully accepting the water Han offered. “It’s her.”

Go figure.

To be honest, Jisung wasn’t good at pretending.

Well, in terms of lying he was a natural (a given, after all), but pretending he hadn’t caught onto his friend’s enormous attraction to you was technically impossible.

Quite surprising though, to think such an arrogant demon would’ve ended up like this.

Susceptible, willing. For a human.

Who would’ve thought.

.. .

It’s nothing short of a roller coaster regaining your stable consciousness. Chest wracking, world spinning. You’re situated in bed, injury carefully wrapped(though you can’t recall by who).

The doorknob rattles, and in walks Chan, except, you don’t feel happy, relieved.

Scared. You feel extremely scared.

“What- What are you?” Waver revealing your anxiousness, you curse the subtle tremble.

He smiles.

“Aren’t you a perceptive little one,” His voice dips lower, and as he edges closer, you find yourself pressing further into the pillow behind your head.

“I’m sure you’ve had your suspicions, so I’ll make it easy for you.” He lifts his curls, two perfectly placed horns residing there.

“We’re demons. He and I are different species, but both demons.”

Demons.

Instantaneously, a tidal wave or realization crashes salty water into your lungs, expertly piecing your observations together. Red eyes, horn-like scars.

How had you not caught on earlier?

Momentarily, you meet his eyes. Still brown, although you wonder how deep of a red they’d stain, glaze over stunning vermillion or dusky cinnamon tones.

“Species?”

He hums.

“Red-eyed are the best at persuasion, that’s Jisung. I’m a white-eyed demon.”

So neither crimson nor cinnamon, you decide. Perhaps pale, opal color.

“White-eyed demons are usually Satan’s lap dogs, but what lots of people don’t know,” You crane forward to hear his next words, and he leans in as well. “Is that we’re also the most desired species, the most lustful.”

Lustful.

The words don’t truly sink in, and by the time they do, it’s impossible to rip the mischievous look from his eyes.

"What’s that supposed to mean.." You grumble, avoid his darkening stare.

A subtle tap on your thigh has your attention immediately shfiting, your entire body instinctively jolting.

"You want me to show you?" He begins with a laugh, a low, husky laugh that has your stomach tying knots. Not the usual, squeaky laugh, but one that's different, very different. "But if you say yes, I’m sure no one else can satisfy you the way I can."

Your expression pinches with annoyance, a bit offed by his sudden cockiness.

Granted, he looks heaven-sent despite being a demon, and you doubt he'd be any different in bed, but c'mon now, you have a right to be suspicious.

"And how're you so sure of that?" Leaning back on your arms where he sits in front of you, you fixate on the way kinky locks perfectly line the crown of his head, one particularly messy strand tipping over to linger above chocolate pools for eyes.

"Sweetness, Jisung are I are carved out of sin, there's not a particle in our body not built to fuck."

God. Hearing "fuck" come out of his mouth shouldn't have been that attractive. Chan had always been well-mannered, well-spoken, so to hear him say something vulgar for the first time, nonetheless "fuck", effected you more than you'd like to admit.

Slowly, oh so slowly he crawls on the bed, kind tip of his head betraying sinful intent.

“You want this?” He whispers, and your arms immediately wrap around his neck, tugging him into your lips fervently, needily, with a short nod of approval between sighs and stifled groans.

Your wrist aches, but from how heated this kiss is becoming, that matter is the least of your problems.

He feels like fire, tastes like it, nectarine on your tongue.

You waste nimble time undressing, suppressing a high-pitched mewl the longer he sucks deep purple love bites into your neck and down your collarbones, likely to be bruised tomorrow.

He’s careful, learning your body, your sounds. Touch light as a feather, not enough.

He’s big, that’s a given. Head red and angry with thick beads of precum apparent, you can’t possibly think straight, his name the only sensible word falling off your swollen lips.

Chan Chan Chan.

Brows knitting as his fat head bumps your entrance, you murmur pleas, practically delusional on his pleasure, his love.

Most desired, you understand what he meant by that.

“Feel good? Yeah? That's a good girl."

You can feel your entire body keen at the praise, utterly blissful from how amazing he was making you feel.

The stretch of his fat cock has your common-sense threading dangerously thin, head falling back, fingernails raking his back. Delirious.

When he actually started moving? Yeah, you’re convinced you paid a visit to cloud nine, fucked-out brain recognizing only the squelch of your bodies connecting and the squeaky, absolutely desperate sounds he’s pulling from your throat.

Not to mention his voice, accent thickening tremendously the longer he ruined your drooling cunt.

His, his, his.

"Shit- you feel fuckin' divine," He kissed the sweaty skin of your calf hiked over his shoulder, ankle held by a strong hand while the other occupied your hip, squeezing and kneading with each heavy thrust.

Chan wasn't lying about being carved out of sin, fucking like an absolute animal to the point tears began welling in your eyes, overstimulated and euphoric beyond belief as your hands shakily reach upward.

Obediently, he lowers himself, letting you hold his face for some sense of security while feeling so vulnerable.

You pathetically search his eyes, head thrown back after one particular roll of his hips that earns a rumbling moan from the man.

Each time he bottoms out it feels like you're losing it, rubbing that gummy spot that makes your heels dig into his shoulders and your moans transform into high-pitched cries, shuddering.

"Channie- Oh fuck Channie- I can't It's too much-"

Practically gasping for air to ease the buzzing fuzziness blinding you, you cherish the equally mind-numbing kiss he soothes, pressure in your lower tummy building and building at a flying pace.

"Yes you can, bunny. 'Need to cum? C'mon, cum for me, 'atta girl." He tuts, slowing himself down with each squeeze of your cunt signaling your approaching release.

Torturous.

Nothing like this, never in all his life had he felt something like this. So delicate and fragile as you look up at him, glossy dolly eyes far too tempting.

At this point it was an obligation to stuff your pussy full.

Rolling your puffy nub in tight circles, your thighs twitch, gripping the pillow behind your head like a vice as the sharp knot in your stomach finally snaps and a near pornographic sound rips from your throat, back arching off the bed.

The sight of you has his eyes nearly rolling back, so ruined and angel-like. You're a white rose in a field of wilting grasses. Bloomed in his ill-fated fingertips.

His pants stifle, big hands holding the back of your thighs spread for him. His pace stutters, and with a gritted whine of your name he slams his hips, painting your aching cunt white.

The last thing he anticipated visiting the human realm was to find himself in this situation.

And whether he liked to admit it or not, if the Devil had your father wrapped around his finger, you had him tied up without a chance of escape.

So while you both scrambled to clean up your evidence and not fall over your own feet hearing Jisung clumsily drop a clattering frying pan in the kitchen, he thinks, if only for a second, he’d be okay with it.

Being yours, that is.

FIC TAGLIST. @y-ur--i @atinism @darknova2319 @producedbyhanjisung @knightoftime21 @leonswifesstuff

sunboki, may 2022 ©

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live-love-be-unique · 1 month

Text

Crossing All The Lines

Summary: Callsign: Tink. Brought into the taskforce as a hacker/ intel specialist, you butt heads with your captain.

#47. Reader is a hacker or intel specialist for @glitterypirateduck O,Captain! challenge

Also, inspiration for a chubby reader and the death of a certain Austrian from @391780, Early I hope I did you proud.

Parings: Price x chubby f reader

Warnings: Idiots in love, female reader, smut with some plot, oral (f!receiving), vaginal sex 18+ Minors DNI

“It’s your eye in the sky, so to speak” you said, holding the small drone you had been tinkering with before he had walked into your office. You animatedly showed off the newest toy you had been tinkering with, pointing out the features you had added “it has the capability to record and store six hours of audio and video. I’m working on the signal range to extend…”

Price reached over the desk and turned off the screaming you called music that was blasting through your computer speakers “I’m not taking some flying toy into a war zone” he said with finality. Laswell’s recommendation be damned, he didn’t need some little dolly bird tottering around the base in ridiculous shoes telling him how to run his taskforce.

“Oh ok, so will you be letting Gaz know you’re planning on pitching him out the side of a helicopter again to run surveillance or am I?” you say, casting him a smirk over your shoulder as you place the drone on the shelf behind you. Price groaned and rolled his eyes away from you.

You were the newest addition to the taskforce, at Laswell’s insistence, she claimed you were the best intel operative she had encountered in years. She had pulled a few strings and called in some favours with the higher ups that Price could only fantasize about knowing to get you after you had saved their arses with some quite impressive hacking skills.

To say you weren’t what Price had been expecting was a massive understatement. The day you were introduced to the team, you were all bright colours and sparkles in a sea of soldiers. Hardly military issue, as you arrived on base, you had poured your soft, rounded curves into that dress. A wiggle-dress his mother used to call them, and ridiculously high heels. The sight of you made his mouth water and his hands itched to feel your soft skin and overflowing curves. Soap and Gaz took to you instantly, bestowing you with the callsign Tink because of your love for tinkering with random projects or Tinkerbell according to Soap, Ghost took a little longer but your preference for a proper cup of tea and non-judgmental attitude towards his unwillingness to show his face quietly won him over.

The only one you hadn’t bonded with was Price. You butted heads and frustrated each other. Trading snide comments and jabs. Price did appreciate the fact that you kept a jar of sweets on your desk that you made an effort to keep stocked with his and the lads favorite treats and he had to admit that, Laswell was correct, your hacking skills were second to none.

Price watched as you spent the first three weeks of your time on base bringing in new trinkets for your small office. Candles, figurines and a small cactus that Soap didn’t notice until he sat on one day. You admonished him for weeks until he brought you in another, non-spiky one. “I’m sorry, Tinkerbell, forgive me?” he’d pouted, holding out the small succulent towards you. Your office was an explosion of colour like you, and there was always music playing, you’d even created a playlist with Soap and Gaz.

But…on more than one occasion not that he would admit it, Price found himself in his office late at night surrounded by the cloying scent of artificial strawberries from the candles you preferred to decorate your office with that seemed to follow you around, with his hand furiously fisting his cock. Your bratiness was like catnip to him. Every cheeky little sass you threw his way made him harder than ever.

You yourself, never thought you would be one to enjoy it when a man yelled at you but with Price’s gravely, low voice and the sheer broadness of him…damn...you couldn’t count the nights you spent with the absolutely non military issue neon pink vibrator between your legs imagining it was Price instead, his booming voice echoing in your ears as you came. Your embarrassing crush on the captain had stopped you from dating, all bar a handful of dates with that very tall Austrian colonel from Kortac, you thought he had ghosted you after your dates but came to find out that he had died from ingesting strychnine poison in a Romanian brothel after sleeping with a married woman.

“Are you even listening to me?” Your voice pulled Price back to the present.

“There’s nothing to hear, we’re not taking that thing” he pointed towards the shelf.

“It’s already been cleared. You just have to control everything don’t you?”

“I’m the captain for a reason” he muttered, stubbornly.

You scoffed “god, I bet you couldn’t last one day without controlling everything”

Price leaned forward, open palms resting on the desk in front of him, staring down at you “try me”

“What?”

“You heard me…try me, doll”

You can’t tell who made the first move as your hair was wrapped tightly in Price’s hands as he pulled you against his lips in a heated kiss. He groans deeply as your teeth nip sharply at his bottom lip.

“That dress looks divine on you” he smirks, pulling away from your lips breathing heavily.

“Thank you-”

“How easy is it to take off?”

You smirked, turning your back towards Price, moving your hair over your shoulder and glancing over your shoulder at him.

Price licked his lips as his hands slid slowly from your waist up your back. His hands made quick work of the zipper as he slid the dress down over your shoulders, placing a gentle almost loving kiss between your shoulder blades.

You turned to face him as you dropped your dress to the floor. You felt exposed as Price’s eyes raked over your near naked form.

Price couldn’t take his eyes away from you. The lacy navy coloured lingerie hugged your soft, rounded curves perfectly. Your eyes locked with his as he dropped to his knees in front of you.

“Tell me you want this” his eyes bore into yours as his hands toyed with the waistband of your underwear “tell me you want me”

“Price…”

“John, call me John…please” he whimpered.

“Please, John”

“Fuck” he uttered as he dragged the lace over your hips and down your legs. You shuddered as the cool air met your soaking core.

He pushes your legs apart, pressing little kisses on your inner thighs, before nuzzling his cheek against you, breathing in your scent as he lifted one of your legs to rest on his shoulder.

He looks up at you, eyes blown out with desire. Before you had a chance to think of a witty retort, he dives in, tongue sliding through your folds. You fall back against the desk with a soft groan as your hands find his hair, gripping tight as he laps at you like a man starved. “Fuck,” he moans against you. “You taste so fucking good.” He spreads you apart, adding a finger into the mix, he thrusts it in and out of your eager hole as his tongue laps at you. You moan softly, hand still tangled in his hair as you arched your back, body chasing his tongue against your heated skin.

“Stop wriggling” he gritted out, his voice strained as his calloused hands gripped the plush of your thighs.

“Make me”

Price chuckled as he grabbed your waist and lifted you, you squealed and wrapped your legs around his hips as he sat you on your desk “just once, will you do as you're told?” His hands on either side of your hips, holding you firmly against him.

“Where’s the fun in that?” You smirked, locking your ankles behind his back and pulling him closer.

Price grunts, gripping your thighs against his waist as he leans forward and leaves wet, sloppy kisses along your shoulders and up the column of your neck. His teeth nip and bite at the delicate skin, marking you, claiming you as his own.

“You have no idea how much I want you”

“Oh I think I get the idea” your smirk as his lips continued their path towards your chest. You ground against him and chuckled as you felt the rumble of a moan in his chest.

“I want to ruin you”

“Please…do it”

That was all the encouragement he needed as he hurried to undo his belt and shove his pants to his ankles.

“Your hand feels so much better than my own” he rasped as you wrapped your hands around him, lining his cock up with your pussy. You moaned against each other's lips as he sinks into you. The stretch to accommodate him is nothing short of delicious. Your grind against him as he bottoms out.

Your eyes meet as he pulls out of you before snapping his hips back against you, filling you so completely that it steals the air from your lungs.

Your hands grip anywhere you can as Price rolls his hips up into you, the way you squeeze him spurs him on as you writhe and keen underneath him. Your nails leave crescent shapes in the skin of his back as he looms over you, his arms caging you against his broad chest.

Price couldn’t stop himself, he kissed at the skin of your bare shoulder, bared his teeth and bit, hard, you yelped. Oh shit, he thought, have I gone too far?

He stopped and looked into your eyes, searching for any type of distress.

“More” you purred. You’d be the fucking death of him.

He smirks as he can feel your body tightening around him, you’re getting closer and he isn’t far behind as he slams into you with one final snap of his hips. His lips find yours as you moan into his mouth, tongue and lips clashing together as you come.

Your door swung open “about time” Ghost muttered as he closed the door again.

“So…that was…” Price stumbled out as he pulled out of you, picking up your dress that laid crumpled on the floor. He gently pulled it over your spent body. Resisting the urge to drop kisses to any sliver of skin he could see.

“Great, it was great” you smile, pausing slightly before standing up on your toes to place a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth. He turned his head, chasing your lips as you shared a soft kiss.

“Yeah, it was great” he smiled, suddenly bashful.

#captain price cod #price smut #captain john price #john price #captain john price smut #oh captain my captain

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magicalmanhattanproject · 8 months

Text

so i wanna talk about 2b2t, specifically as a backstory for qfit. because the thing is everyone talks about 2b2t as a wasteland and a wreck and a bombed out warzone and like. it sure as hell isn't not that. but it's also a server that people keep on coming to. it's a server that takes pride in actively murdering new members, but it's a server that keeps on having new members

so, what's the draw? what keeps people coming and coming back?

well, the thing about an anarchy server is that it has no rules, be they rules of society or rules of reality

the way i think about 2b2t is that it's a fucked up wonderland. like you know when someone makes a deal with a sinister fairy and it comes true in the worst way for them possible? that's how everything works on 2b.

you want infinite blocks for your builds? sure, the griefers have infinite tnt too. you want infinite totems to stay alive? sure, end crystal pvp means you're gonna need every last one of them. you want fame and fortune for griefing a legendary build? sure, you got a target on your back for the rest of your life though

but the thing is that the metaphorical fucked up fairies are busy. it's down to the individual server members to take care of the double dealing and the double crossing and the wreaking of havoc. and they do! with delight! but they can't* be everywhere at once.

so, you have a chance. you can get lucky. you can get lucky for a while. you can build a nice little life for yourself. you can even get it off the back of tearing other people down if you're quick and you're clever and that's much faster and easier than trying to grind your own resources the vanilla way when every moment is a race against the clock before your base gets found and griefed but you can try and you can do pretty well and you can try again and you can try to get revenge and you can make friends and you can make enemies and you can have everything you ever wanted for the low, low price of everything you ever had and why not pay it when you can just build it all back up again

the other things about 2b2t that i think points to fucked up fairy wonderland instead of standard wartime dystopia is so much of how the server works is really best understood as necromancy-adjacent. so every account is a different person, right? well, some people have a half dozen faces just in case someone finds out where one sleeps. sometimes. there was that one time one guy's shambling corpse** just got reanimated by a completely different guy who took over his identity and no one really minded when they found out

there's an entire population of bots that move and act like players and communicate in all the ways players can barring hte most intimate*** and they literally can't be distinguished from players in most circumstances but they're used as delivery drones so they'll bring you a package and then die in front of you so you can't follow them back to the cache

like this is just!! a thing!!! that people live with!!!!!!!

2b2t has highway unions!! it also has collectives who go around destroying the highways!! there are compassionate souls making community areas!! those areas are griefed to hell and back but not beyond recognizibility!!

it's all just an absolutely fascinating world and it deserves to be explored in how it affects fit's character a lot more than just "ptsd from bombs" even though that's also a massive part of it

*NOCOM notwithstanding

**To be clear bc it wasn't a roleplay bit, the original player is still alive, but he's got no intention of returning to 2b2t so his cubito is definitely dead.

***They can like spam crouch and send messages in chat and you're not gonna want to hop in a vc with a rando from 2b2t

#sorrelposting #qsmp #fitmc #qsmp fitmc

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celestialwhoree · 28 days

Note

Hey hun! I just wanted to send this (completely self-indulgent) ask so if you don't wanna write it, yer all good <3.

But how would you think either Ghost or Soap would respond to their partner getting a bad diagnosis. Like not anything fatal but something they'll deal with for the rest of their life?

Anyways have a great day you deserve it!

Perfectly happy to write this!!!! Chronic illness and I are better acquainted than I'd like to admit n writing is like my favourite coping mechanism💕🥴🤚

The dull cream walls of your doctors office have become far too familiar, so has the drone of his voice, and the incessant hum of the ancient AC unit which leaves the room always that little bit too cold. Simon's hand on your back is the only thing saving you from zoning out entirely. In a way, you so wish it isn't keeping you there in the room. You'd give anything to drift away into that comfortable place in the corner of your mind where everything is hazy and warm and nothing hurts. Today, of course, you're not granted such a privilege.

" - treatable, but unfortunately incurable."

You're not surprised, but it doesn't hurt any less either. It's impossible to ignore the way Simon's fingers flex against the base of your spine, his brows furrowing with disappointment as he looks down at the results of your blood tests. The way you feel has long since passed dread - settled on that horrible tear jerking feeling of defeat. Life has fucked you sideways, before well and truly leaving you in the dirt.

Simon ushers you to the car in silence, his heart breaking when your head drops into your hands, a frustrated sigh breaking the terse silence you'd fallen into, your mind having run so fast it stopped completely. The emptiness, the lack of distraction, feels far worse.

He soothes you in the best way he knows. "Takeaway? You fancy sushi?" Anything, he'll do anything to coax you from your thoughts, anything to see you smile. He just needs to see you smile.

If he has to take you to the pet store, or the bookstore or sephora, or the most expensive chocolate shop in town, or drop you off to Price's to sit with his wife and watch romcoms with pints of ice cream, whatever he has to do, he'll do it.

You plead to just go home. You just want to sit on the couch and wallow.

He puts up less of a fight than you'd expect, dropping into the supermarket to grab a pint of milk before driving the two of you back home.

By the time you've changed back into your sweats and one of Simon's old hoodies, he's covered the coffee table in all of your favourite snacks, your favourite movie ready to go, and open arms for you to walk into.

"Not gonna let my girl be sick and sad, yeah?"

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aerosmart84 · 4 months

Text

issuu

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lunarw0rks · 8 months

Note

I just wanna go on Home Depot errands with price.

Him taking me to wood aisle and his arms reaching up to touch the wood and decide which he thinks is bests.

And him telling me all about the different types of wood like I gaf and like I’m listening when in reality I’m only focused on his huge upper arms and vains along his forearms.

Or sitting down at home with price reading a book while he’s “dad patting” our dog

Or him making us a new bed after the first one we had broke.(for you know why.. reasons)

Price is such a rough and tough exterior type of guy who secretly (not so secret) has a soft side.being a girl dad.his daughter forcing him to pretend the plastic toy food at the princess tea party is real.and crying at his daughters first pet’s funeral (it was a fish ☹️)

He’s definitely wearing the pink tiara for his little girl.

Or having BBQ days in my sundress. Sitting in a lawn chair watching beads of sweat trickle down his forehead as he's throwing down, giving his all on the grill.

Anyway, I LOVE DOMESTIC PRICE.😊

handyman!price is such a good idea. not even a headcanon, it's CANON at this point !!!

he's had plenty of hours on deployment (throughout the years) with a knife being his only means of entertainment. is surprisingly skilled at woodworking/carving because of that boredom. so, in return, he insists on building most things from scratch in his free time.

you would be dragged to home depot at ungodly morning hours. but you'd get passenger princess privileges, so it can't be that bad. not to mention, ogling him while he drones on and on about the types of wood, methods, etc.

his ARMS bulging when he holds up the heavy pieces, the veins more prominent! HEHEHEHE

and the girl dad agenda; he'd love being a girl dad 🥹🥹 oh, she's getting older and he's nostalgic, wouldn't it be a shame if you had to start all over again with another baby??? ;)))))

realest ask ever.... i need him in a way that's concerning to feminism!!!

#rachel speaks #mw2 #call of duty #task force 141 #141 headcanons #john price x reader #captain john price #john price #price x reader #john price headcanons #price headcanons #captain price headcanons #mw2 fanfic

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addisonnie · 1 year

Text

you, me, & mary-jane

summary: dealer!ellie comes in clutch in more ways than one.

warnings: make-out sesh, cursing, terrible breaking bad references

a/n: surprise! another ellie fic because i refuse to do the schoolwork that i desperately need to finish! wooooooooo dealer ellie is yum. i actually kinda hate this! enjoy! oh god also listen to “meddle about” by chase atlantic while you read if you would like. ellie=chase atlantic okay bye

part 2 —> part 3

There are several things in life that you can live without. Weed is not one of them.

You’re huffing and borderline growling as you dig through various stash locations in your room. Closet, empty. Under the mattress, nothing but crumbs. In every single pants pocket? Zero. Zilch. Not one lush green nug was found.

What could be chalked up to a literal war cry left your lips as you sat on the floor with your head in your hands, “this is it. This is the end.”

Dina’s head poked up from the side of her bed, “what are you whining about down there?”

Leaning your head back onto the wall, you sent Dina a harsh glare, “you and Jesse smoked the last of it! And I’m flat broke, too!”

She sat up fully in her bed, eyes wide and crazy, “bitch! Don’t pin this on us! You said it was fine.”

“That was last night! This is today! Today I just want to smoke my silly little bowl and enjoy my silly little high.” You groan and knock your head against the wall a few times.

Fishing your phone from your back pocket, you open iMessage. Hopefully your plug isn’t busy right now. Last time you bought from him was in the parking lot of his youngest child’s soccer game. Maybe buying from a 40-something father of three isn’t always the best idea—at least he won’t rip you off?

Hey. You busy?

Tom usually responds right away. His clients doubled as his friends (you being his ex-babysitter) and he always loved to provide for them.

Who is this?

Well, that’s strange. Tom definitely has your number saved. And, Tom definitely knows who you are.

Don’t play, Tom. I want to buy!!!!

You watch the text bubbles pop up and disappear in the bottom corner of the screen a few times, showing that he’s typing out a response and deleting it over and over.

This is his wife. Don’t text this number again. He is married. And he does not sell what you want to “buy.”

You could really cry at this moment. Like, honestly and truly sob. A long huff leaves your lips and you knuckle at your eyes aggressively. Fucking bullshit. Tom’s wife was always kind of a bitch, to be fair. But you didn’t think she’d ever pull a Skylar White on you. What does a girl have to do to get some weed around here?

“Do you know any other dealers? I just got told off by Tom’s wife.” Dina laughed from her bed.

“My name is Skylar White, yo. My husband is Walter White, yo.” You couldn’t help but laugh, “that’s exactly what I was thinking!”

She sits up in her bed, hanging her tanned legs off the side, “here. I have mutual friends with this girl, think her name is Ellie? I heard she sells. Good prices too.”

Dina tosses her phone into your lap from where she sits and allows you to send the contact to yourself.

Hey. Is this Ellie?

———

Ellie takes a couple hours before responding.

It depends on who’s asking?

Your professor drones on about some random Shakespeare play and you can’t bring yourself to pay attention while you read over Ellie’s text.

Dina gave me your number, I heard you sell?

Man. I really hope you’re not a cop.

You chuckle at her text.

Not a cop. Twenty year old girl over here. I love One Direction.

That sounds like something an undercover cop would say.

Ellie made a good point. You scroll through your camera roll trying to find a recent selfie before landing on one you took a couple days ago. You’re clearly high in the picture, so maybe Ellie will take the hint.

Here. Proof. Not a cop :)

Pretty.

She sent her address in a separate text and informs you to meet her there around 7pm when she’s done with her night class. Your professor excuses the class and leaves the remainder of students to pack their things. 5pm. Usually you smoke before going to pick up. Clearly, that’s not an option today. What does one do while they wait if they have no weed?

———

Nothing. One does absolutely nothing if they have no weed.

You knock on Ellie’s front door and wait a few beats before stepping back from the doorway. The lock clicks before the dingy wooden door opens inward,

“Hey!”

Oh, damn. She is fine.

Her auburn hair is short and rests about an inch above her shoulders. It’s pulled slightly up into a bun and several short strands curl lightly along the nape of her neck.

“Hey! Ellie, right?”

She smiles, “that’s me.” The door is pulled open wider and she beckons you to come inside. A botanical tattoo swirls along her forearm and you find yourself staring at her awkwardly before you step into the house.

She tugs off her flannel and slings it over the back of a woven couch, leaving her in a fitted white tank top.

You suck in a breath, “how are you?”

How are you? Really? Who says that to a drug dealer?

She chuckles and slouches into the couch, patting the open spot beside her, “pretty good. How about you?”

“Honestly? I’m suffering.”

She laughs fully this time, “that bad, huh? Your dealer die or something?”

“God, I wish. His wife responded to my text and told me to fuck off, basically. That he doesn’t sell what I buy.” Ellie cringes and shakes her head, her lips pressed into a tight frown,

“she Skylar-Whited you? That’s pretty fucking rough.”

“That’s exactly what I said! Call me Jesse Pinkman, I guess.” Ellie shook her head again and leaned forward to grab a small mahogany box.

Her long fingers opened the lid and scrounged through the container before she happily hummed and held up what she was looking for. A joint was pressed between her fingers and she quickly snatched a lighter off the coffee table.

After she placed the box back on the table, she leaned back into the couch and stretched her arm along the back of it, her fingers barely grazing your shoulder. Ellie turned to face you and held the joint to your lips, “open up.”

Your face flushes as you do what she asked—demanded. Her fingers place the joint onto your awaiting lips and she quickly lights the paper, still holding the joint to your mouth.

What is this girl on? You can’t help but feel as if this is strangely intimate. Tom never held a joint to your lips! On second thought, it’s probably good that he didn’t.

You inhale and she pulls the joint to meet her own mouth as she watches you exhale.

“We can smoke this and then I’ll grind up some for you.” She passes you the joint this time.

“Oh—you don’t have to. I can take the nugs. I don’t want to trouble you.” You pass it back.

She smirks, the joint hanging from the side of her mouth, “no trouble at all. Happy to do it.”

“Is that what you tell all of your clients?”

Another smirk, “only the pretty ones.”

The joint is placed back into your fingertips and you are very glad, this way you can explain the extreme blush creeping up onto your cheeks as just you being overly high. Ellie has somehow moved closer to you, her thigh is pressed up against yours and the arm she has outstretched across the back of the couch skims the back of your shoulders. A chill rakes through your body, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“Here, take it.” The hand she has resting behind your head snatches her discarded flannel and drops it into your lap.

“Oh—thanks.” She hums in response.

———

Ellis is funny as hell. Each sentence that escapes her plump lips makes less sense than the last,

“would you rather be trapped in a locked room with a gorilla, or with…with a shit ton of cockroaches?”

She’s sitting opposite you on the couch, her back leaning against one armrest. One of her legs is bent and squished against the back of the couch, her other is sprawled off the edge of the couch. Bit of a man-spreader, this one. Your back is pressed to the opposite arm rest and your legs are stretched outward, resting softly in her lap.

Again, weirdly intimate.

“Oh. Fuck, probably the roaches? Just step on ‘em. Yanno?”

She gasps and latches onto your sock-clad feet, “sickening! Me and that gorilla are gonna be friends.”

You squint at her, “you gonna sell him some Mary-Jane?”

“Yup,” she pops the ‘p’ and passes you the remainder of the joint. Your fingers skim over hers and she blushes a bit, nudging your finger with hers.

“Hey—so how much do I owe you?” You immediately regret ruining the moment the second the words pass your lips.

“Well, flattery works with me—“ you cut her off, “oh yeah? I would’ve kissed you earlier, had I known that.”

She flushes, “you can—um. You can still kiss me. If you want.”

And, just like that, your eyes turn into hearts and start beating rapidly. You surge forward and press your lips to hers, smiling into the kiss when she flicks the joint out of her fingertips and grabs your cheeks, pulling you closer.

Her mouth melds to yours and immediately has you panting like a bitch in heat. She moves one of her hands to pinch at your hip, grasping and probing at you until you wind up straddling her lap. You press your chest into hers and squeak when you feel her hand push your hip down, effectively grinding you down onto her. A strangled whine leaves your lips as she pulls away and begins kissing down the column of your throat.

Her mouth is wet and firm while she sucks and nips on any naked skin she can find, moaning when she feels your fingers card through her hair. Your hips continually rut into hers and she quickly sets a different pace, gripping your hips and dragging you forward and back on her lap. Ellie moans when you grab her hair and pull. Her face is removed from your neck at the force of your tug and she pants to catch her breath before opening her eyes to meet yours.

“How’s free sound?” She gives you a crooked smirk and presses an open-mouthed kiss to your throat.

“Sounds like I’m ripping you off, Ellie.”

She groans and throws her head back onto the couch, “I love the way you say my name. And it’s not ripping me off, babe.”

And you’re blushing again. Babe. She called you babe.

She continues, “think of it as a little sampler. Free shared joint, some ground up weed, and some Ellie.”

You grab her cheeks and squish them together, “only if you swear this sampler is offered to me only. Can’t have anyone stealing my deals.”

She brushes your hands off and smirks again, “like I said earlier, pretty girls only.”

“You said ‘girls’ plural.” She laughs.

“I’ve got three clients. A grown man named Joel, one of the sociology professors—don’t tell anyone I said that. Then you. And I’m a lesbian, so…” She trails off at the end of her sentence and looks down at your lips again, hands splayed across your thighs.

You kiss her again. It’s short and chaste and it leaves Ellie chasing your lips for just one more. Two more. Three. How’s five sound?

She presses kisses to your puckered lips over and over, “all,” kiss, “the weed,” kiss, “you can,” kiss, “dream of.”

Ellie finally pulls away to fully look at you, “I mean it. You can have all the weed you want if you keep kissing me like that.”

————

When you finally clamber off of her lap and detach her hands from your hips it’s almost one in the morning. She sighs while she watches you stuff your ‘goody bag’ into your purse, slipping your shoes back on. Her fingers beckon you back to the couch and she taps your right leg until you bend it and rest your foot on top of her thigh. You were planning on walking home with your shoes untied, but Ellie’s nimble fingers quickly double knot each of your shoes; She presses a kiss to each of your knees before letting them straighten back out.

Her hands find your hips again—shocker— while she walks you to the front door. A kiss is pressed to your lips one last time and she gives you a firm squeeze when you lean in to hug her.

“Come back soon. Fuck that guy, I’m your new dealer for life.” You smile and step outside, “okay.”

She definitely tied your shoes too tight and you make a mental note to fix it when you’re out of her eyesight. As you’re walking down the sidewalk that leads you to campus she calls your name,

“Get home safe, yeah? Text me when you’re back!”

You will definitely text her.

#wooooo #ellie williams #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie x reader #tlou #ellie tlou

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meatonfork · 1 year

Note

More platonic sleeping with Johnny moments cuz i can't seem to get over the last one ;( <3

Nap Time

----------------------------------------

pairing: p!soap x grim

warnings: none, sleepy grim

summary: grim really needed a nap

-- my babies :(( ----------------------------------------

soap knew something was wrong the moment you walked through the meeting room's door.

the bags under your eyes were the worst he had seen them- ever.

as price droned on about whatever he had called the meeting for, you had your head propped up on your hand, trying not to fall asleep right then and there.

the meeting was going for too long in johnny's opinion. he was just too focused on your half dead figure trying to keep upright across from him.

at one point, your head dropped, and ghost stuck his hand out to prevent your head from smacking on the wooden surface below you.

looking up, you gave ghost a subtle nod. an okay.

the meeting had finally ended, and your legs felt like jello. walking into the hall was a task to be damned with. a strong arm wrapped around your waist, and the familiar smell of soap's cologne wafted in your nostrils.

"hey, kiddo. come with me, aye?" his voice was soft enough to put you to sleep standing in the hallway.

with a nod, you let him lead you to his room.

a sweatshirt and sweat pants were thrust into your arms, and you made your way to his bathroom.

you left your clothes on his counter, and took a good look in the mirror. the eye bags were big enough to go shopping with. your skin was pale- paler than you ever remember it being. freckles popped up on your skin, and the contrast between the scars that littered your face and your pale complexion made you almost unrecognizable.

tears welled in your eyes, and you made your way out of the bathroom.

you spot johnny standing at the end of the bed. you make eye contact, and his face falls upon noticing your red rimmed eyes.

"oh. c'mere, lass." you broke down. walking to your best pal, you stop in front of him. letting your head thump against his chest, you sob.

"i'm so, so, tired johnny." your voiced broke, wobbling with unshed tears.

"i know, sweetheart. let's lay down, yeah?" with his hands rubbing up and down your biceps, he pulls you to bed.

"wanna talk 'bout it?" he lets you lay on top of him, rubbing your back as you continued to cry.

" i just keep seeing them, john. their little eyes begging me for help i can't give them. why couldn't i help them? they needed me!" the sound of your voice breaking nearly breaks johnny's heart.

someone he considers a sibling is sat there, pouring their heart out to him, and there's not much he could do.

"oh, grim. that wasn't your fault. there wasn't much you could do. please, do not blame this on yourself, alright?" his voice was soft in your ear, and his chest rumbled against your temple as he spoke.

you give out a slight nod, "yeah. i know. but, it hurts so bad."

"i know, lass, i know. it takes time." he continued to rub your back, one hand sliding it's way to your hair.

with a soft kiss to the top of your head, he flicks on a movie.

it was always your favorite way to relax, and he knew exactly which movie you'd need.

"tangled? soap, you know the way to my heart." a small smile graced your exhausted face.

"don't i? anything for you, hun." he ruffled your hair.

a little giggle bubbled from you lips.

you squeezed him tight, "thank you, johnny. i appreciate you a lot."

"always, kiddo." he gave a tight squeeze back.

he never stopped holding you. not when you finally fell asleep. not when his legs went numb, and he was uncomfortable. not even when he had to pee. he held you the whole night.

----------------------------------------

a/n: omg i loved writing this <33

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excitingdrone123 · 2 years

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neoarchipelago · 1 year

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And they were Roommates (part 15)

A/N: I feel like i keep saying this but, all my chapters are long... SOO anyway. I don't know how i feel about this chapter, i'm torn between hating it and hating myself. Reviews are greatly appreciated and please be honest, don't try to make me happy, i truly want constructive critisim, so go on my babies, break my heart.

Also all lot of you seem to want to be my good girls or good boys. So yeah, sure, i'll be ya'lls mommy.

Yes. Hate me.

Warnings: Mentions of death, injury, 18+ content etc, just minors don't. F-Reader.

You sighed. Turning around in the black sheets. You could still smell his cologne in them. It's been two weeks. And you missed him like hell. You missed his voice, his touch, his eyes. You touched your neck. He had taken his dog tags with him. It felt like you lacked something now.

You groaned, throwing one of the pillows over your head. A knock rang in the room.

"Sparrow. Come on. Get up." Bishop called through the door.

You groaned again as a response.

"Come on!"

"Fine!"

You decided to get up. You'd spend the day in bed otherwise and you had to go to base. The squad had joined Los Vaqueros to hunt down the two cartel's bosses. You had stayed behind with bishop and Coyote to remotely track any Intel on the dark web. Aquila, Carkeys and Grim went on site to collect Intel and use drones and other equipment to help the squad.

You spent time in between the base and your house where Melissa and the team joined you as often as they could.

It took an hour at best to get to base with everyone. You had walked into the IT quarters with a coffee in hand.

"Rough morning?" Laswell asked.

"Where are they?" You asked.

She shook her head with a smile on her lips.

"They got into the city last night. They managed to get a few high ups of the cartel." Coyote explained.

"We managed to capture some conversations on a blank website. Two of their hackers were trying to throw false Intel to throw us off. But we managed to find their ID's which was much more interesting." Bishop added.

You nodded sitting down at your computer.

"Grim and Carkeys are following closely the squad with the drones and satellite images. We have made sure to protect those and are gate keeping them so they can't use those to track our soldiers."

You sighed of relief.

"I wouldn't have made it without you guys… thank you…" you said.

Bishop winked at you while coyote smiled.

"Aquila is making sure they're safe, keeping track of their equipments."

You took a deep breath.

"Alright back to work."

You got back to work, trying to focus as best as you could on it. The day passed by in a flash again. You felt like the anxiety would kill you at every new piece of information coming your way. At the end of the day you looked around the room full of screens.

"Hey sparrow, come here" Bishop called with a smile.

You walked up to her, blinking as you looked down at her screen.

"HEY THERE!" Soap's voice rang.

You felt a rush of adrenaline.

"We managed to create a remote link so we could video call with their base." Coyote explained, the freckled on her nose dancing as she smiled.

"Thank you… hey soap. How are you guys?" You asked.

"We are good here, we are getting closer to the target." Gaz answered.

You smiled at them. Price and Alejandro now appeared behind them. You noticed the blush on Coyote's face.

"Oh, look, it's our ladies!" Price called.

You chuckled as the girls giggled.

"Princesa!" Alejandro called.

As by magic, it immediately summoned him. HIM. Your breath caught in your front. Simon.

"My princess."

His voice was rough. Ghost was on edge. Alejandro raised his hands up, showing there was no sign of threat from him.

"Hey…" you greeted with a smile.

He nodded.

The conversation kept going, now Carkeys, Aquila and Grim showing up as well. It felt nice to be able to talk with everyone, but all you wanted was to tell him you missed him. You needed him. You wanted two minutes alone with him just to tell him you loved him again. It must have shown. Because the team did exactly that.

You were now sitting in front of the screen with only him. Only him.

"Hey…" you said again.

"Say it bunny."

You smirked.

"I miss you… want my Simon back."

He chuckled.

"Miss you too bunny." He said.

"Is everything ok on your side? You aren't hurt?" You worried.

"I'm fine. Don't worry darling. I'll be home soon. Alright?"

You nodded. You heard Price calling in the back, marking the end of the call. He got closer to the screen, you did too.

"Simon… I love you…"

You saw through the pixels how his pupils dilated at the sound of the words.

"Don't do this to me bunny… I'm too far away to fuck you into my mattress…"

You smiled, biting your lip. He wouldn't say it. Not yet. But you'd be patient.

"Guess you're going to have to come back for that." You teased.

He chuckled. You bid your goodbyes, heart heavy.

You stared at the now black screen. You were doomed. Completely doomed. He was king of your thoughts at all times. He had managed to capture the little sparrow and make it his. You closed your eyes, biting your lip.

"You alright?"

You opened your eyes looking at the girls next to you. You smiled faintly nodding at them.

"They'll be fine. They've had to fight worse." Bishop started.

"And they have us. We'll keep them safe." Coyote added.

You sighed. You nodded faintly.

"Come on. Let's go home."

You turned around to notice Laswell standing not too far as well. You stood up, the girls heading to the door. You took a last glance at the black screen before following them.

The next few days, things started to get complicated. Tension kept rising for everyone. You'd spend more time at base. Sometimes staying there overnight. Laswell was keeping an eye on you like a hawk. But you couldn't get yourself to go home. You had ended up bringing Reaper with you everywhere. No one had commented on it.

You were looking at the fluffy plush on your big desk. The sound of panic made your blood run cold. You stood immediately, watching everyone's voice rise and run.

"What's going on?!" You asked.

Bishop froze looking up at you.

"An attack. We've lost communication."

You cursed, sitting back down and getting to work on your computer.

You were focused on trying to find a link, a connection, anything to create a form of communication. Every ticking second felt heavier on you. You felt trapped in an hourglass, sand filling up and pouring around you. Suffocating.

Soon the seconds turned to minutes. Minutes to hours. You were on the verge of a breakdown.

"We got them!"

You ran to the screens.

"Bravo six ?" Laswell called.

You held your breath.

"Bravo six do you copy?!" She called again.

Silence. Heavy silence.

"Bravo six copy." The rough voice rang.

You closed your eyes, releasing the air in your lungs. Price's voice filled you with relief.

"What's your status bravo six?"

"Took a hit, lost a few guys, but squad 141 is operational."

Laswell turned to you. You wanted to cry. You wouldn't. Not in front of everyone. They're fine. Fuck… he's ok.

You sat in a nearby chair. You let them talk over the radio as your mind tried to grasp what happened. You had almost lost him. It hit you how fragile this was. You could lose him at any second. You felt dizzy for a second. You looked up to see Bishop and Coyote with worried looks on their faces.

"Bishop. Coyote." You called.

They turned to you. You called them to you.

"Let's not pretend I don't see your worried looks. I can see you guys have got a little something for a certain captain and a sergeant." You smiled.

Coyote blushed and Bishop smirked. You grabbed their hands.

"We're ok. We're gonna make it. We're together." You tried to comfort.

"Of course we are. That mohawk cutie better come back. Got to take him out." Bishop teased.

You smiled.

"Well… i…i don't know if the captain would be interested…" Coyote said with a little frown.

"Ah don't worry. We'll help you with that." Bishop teased again.

You nodded, winking at her.

"Come on, let's get back to work." You concluded.

You stayed all night. You had used the locker rooms to shower and change. Laswell kept nagging you to go home but you refused. Melissa had passed by with Amy, bringing some food and snacks. You had enjoyed the time with them. But it got late and they had to leave. The room was awfully quiet at night. Bishop and Coyote had gone back home as well, they needed rest.

You needed it too. But your mind was a mess.

You couldn't get it out of your head that you had lost contact with the team and almost lost them. It felt sour. You held Reaper in your arms. Your eyes burnt a bit. You were tired. Laswell was still here. She kept throwing glances at you.

"Hey… you should sleep." She repeated again.

You looked at the bottom of the screen. 4 am.

"I know… but I can't…" you whispered.

She walked off with a sigh.

You refused. You refused to leave. You needed to stay here. This was the closest to him you could be. And for the moment, this is what you needed.

The next morning the team had walked in. You had nodded off around 5am but woken up an hour after. Bishop had brought coffees and snacks. You were grateful for it.

You felt heavy worried stares. You ignored them, drowning yourself back into work.

"Sparrow." Bishop called softly.

You blinked. Standing up. You felt dizzy again for a second but brushed it off. You walked to her. You closed your eyes for a second when you saw it. The screen showed an empty website. Pictures of bloodied dog tags lined up.

"Tell me It's not what I think it is…" you said.

"I'm afraid… it's exactly what it is…" coyote explained in a sad voice.

"They're keeping them as trophies. For each soldier they've killed." Bishop added with a hint of disgust in her voice.

You looked at the names on the little metal collars.

"I'll go report to Laswell… keep an eye on these…" you said.

You felt a knot in your throat as you walked out of the room.

Having that kind of talk was rough. And it had been, for you and for Laswell. Families had to know the truth, and condolences had to be sent with proper decoration for lost soldiers. You knew it would never heal the emptiness the news will leave in these people's hearts. You had walked back to the IT's wing. Bishop had dragged you to a screen immediately.

You felt your heart drop at first, your mind instantly thinking about the worst things.

"Oh look at our little mama bird…"

Your eyes filled with tears. The image was blurry. The sound wasn't top quality, but the faces on screen made you want to cry.

"Johnny…" you tried with a little smile.

Bishop hugged you as soon as she saw your glossy eyes. Coyote held your hand in here.

"Come on, we're all ok! Gonna need more than that!" Alejandro joked.

"We were worried about you guys!" Bishop scolded.

"Yes… please be careful…" coyote added.

"Look at that, our ladies got all worried about us…" Price said, winking at the screen.

You felt Coyote tense. You smiled to yourself squeezing her hand softly.

"I haven't seen Konig in a while, how's he?" You asked.

"Well he's been spending a lot of time with Grim. They keep talking in German so… we have no idea what they're saying." Gaz explained.

"They get along very well though!" Soap said with a wink.

"Where's..?" You asked.

"Hum… not too far. He's a bit…" gaz started.

"Pissed. He's pissed." Soap finished.

You sighed.

"I'll go get him." Alejandro said.

You nodded. The rest of the team talked a bit.

"It's getting complicated. They're feeling surrounded. Becoming more aggressive.." coyote warned.

"Yeah… we're going to change tactics here." Price added.

The call suddenly fell silent. The boys rose, nodding as they walked away. Bishop and Coyote dropped a kiss on each side of your face before stepping away.

"Simon…"

The word fell from your lips. It was like a call to an unknown god.

"Y/N." You heard. "You haven't been sleeping well." His voice was stern.

Your face dropped.

"You almost died." You countered.

"Bunny." He warned..

"Simon." You said in the same tone.

He sighed.

"I'm ok. I'm worried about you right now"

Somehow it did not comfort you. You were worried about him!

"You have to sleep. You hear me?" He scolded.

You sighed too. You nodded slowly.

"Good girl." He praised.

It made you smile.

"Have you been sleeping in my bed?" He asked.

You bit your lip.

"Maybe…"

He leaned closer to the camera.

"Good. I love it when my pillow smells like you."

You smiled.

"You'll have me next to you. You won't need that." You teased.

"Hmm. Careful bunny. I'm not going to forget those words."

"You better not. I hope it motivates you to come back."

He chuckled. The sound of his laugh warmed you.

"On my way baby…"

A month. A full month and half. You were going insane. People probably thought you were insane, walking around base with Reaper hanging out of your bag. You had been forced by Laswell and Simon, over a video call, to go out with Melissa for a few hours after work. You had finally given in. There you were, in front of a restaurant on base.

Melissa welcomed you with a hug as you walked to your table in the restaurant.

"How are you feeling?" She asked.

You shrugged.

"Could be much better… could be much worse."

She smiled at you.

"How about you? Any news on Eric?" You asked with a worried voice.

"No, not any. Since you talked to Hopkins I feel babysitted at all times." She said, rolling her eyes.

"Good. Very good." You answered with a smile.

She laughed, making you relax. The dinner spent with her lifted some stress and pressure off your shoulders. You had to be honest, it helped you feel better. You had insisted to pay for dinner, it had helped you so much. As you walked out of the restaurant, the cold air made you shiver. You were talking to Melissa when she happily waved at someone.

You turned to watch the K.9 team discussing, not too far. You walked to them.

"Sergeant Gallegos !" A woman greeted.

"Hey Jenny." She greeted back.

The woman turned to you, palling a bit. The German shepherd next to her sitting calmly, its pink tongue out, did not let her master leave its sight.

"Sparrow.." she tried with a bit less friendlyness.

You smiled, trying to relax her.

"Don't worry, I'm out here completely harmless." You assured.

Her shoulders seemed to relax a bit as she smiled.

"What are you guys doing tonight?" Melissa asked.

"Oh hum… we're out to throw a goodbye party…." She answered with a little sadness in her voice.

"Oh… someone leaving?" You asked.

She nodded turning her body so you could look behind her. The team was talking, their k9s on leash next to them. You frowned, confused. Jenny walked over to them, making Melissa and you follow her.

"Guys, Sergeant Gallegos and … Sparrow came to say hi."

You waved with a warm smile. You were glad they didn't seem too nervous around you.

"So, who's leaving?" Melissa asked.

"Oh… it's um… it's him." A man said.

You followed his gaze. A black shepherd laid on the ground. His beautiful brown eyes shining under the restaurants lights.

"Oh he's retiring?" You asked.

"Hum not really…" another said.

"Can… I?" You asked.

Jenny nodded.

You stepped towards the dog kneeling next to it slowly. You let him sniff your hand as his head rose. He let you pet him, making you smile.

"His soldier was KIA. He hasn't been eating since." The soldier holding the leash explained.

"KIA?" You asked.

"Killed in action." Melissa explained.

"Oh…" you frowned.

"Sometimes it happens. The dogs see their soldiers die and refuse to eat for a little while. With time and lots of patience and love it usually gets better. But… he just seems to have given up." Jenny explained.

"He's been through foster homes and vets but… he just gave up." Another soldier explained.

You felt your heart shatter as you looked into it's eyes.

"What's going to happen to him.." Melissa asked.

"Well… I'm afraid he'll have to be… you know…" he explained.

You bit your lip. You felt the colar underneath your fingers, through the semi long furr of his neck. You grabbed the little tag on it reading the name.

"Riley …" you let out.

"Oh… Sparrow…" Melissa tried.

You felt something like a flash coursing through your blood. Something that urged you to do something.

"Is there no other way?" You asked, turning to Jenny.

"Well… we've tried everything… we can't chose for him… and in the end it's the commander's choice… even if it breaks the team's hearts" she said.

You bit your lip. Looking back at the big pup, you felt yourself melt and at the same time cry inside. He looked down… like he had truly given up. He missed his soldier. His family. Just like you.

"Sparrow… i don't think that's a good idea." You heard Melissa, as she seemed to read your mind.

But it was too late, you had already made your decision.

"I'll take him." You said in a decisive tone.

The team looked at each other, taken a back.

"Ma'am… I don't think you can…" a woman said.

"The commander's orders…" Jenny tried too.

"Get your commander on call. Tell him Sparrow wants to keep K9 Riley." You said with a smile.

She hesitated. Melissa had given up on trying to tell you no. She was just smiling, her arms crossed. Jenny turned to Melissa who simply nodded. As Jenny took out her cellphone, the team seemed to perk up.

"Ma'am… are you really going to keep him?" The soldier holding the leash asked.

You nodded with a big smile.

"It'll take time… but I have patience. And all the time in the world." You said.

Jenny started speaking on the phone. The team fell silent.

"Hum… the commander would like to speak to you…" she said.

"Sure! Put him on speaker." You agreed.

She did. She walked up to you and put the phone on speaker. The team surrounded you. You almost wanted to laugh at the team around you. How silent they were.

"Hello?" The phone rang.

"Hello commander." You greeted.

Silence. Melissa held herself from laughing out loud.

"Sparrow?"

"Yes, commander?"

"Hum… are you really asking to take one of the K9's?"

"Absolutely. Is there a problem with my request…?"

"Well… more than one but… I'm not sure I'm allowed to refuse either."

You laughed a bit.

"You can. But I usually get what I want."

"What should I even say to General Hopkins?"

"The exact truth. I met Riley. I decided to keep it. I told you. You couldn't refuse. That's all."

You leaned down again, petting the black dog.

"Hum.." he hesitated.

"If he has something to say. Please tell him to directly come to me." You warned.

The team looked shocked. Melissa rolled her eyes.

"Well… alright, I'll take care of the paperwork and have it delivered to you to sign by the sergeant."

The soldiers around jumped happily, silently though. You smiled to yourself. Was this a very thoughtful decision? No. It definitely wasn't responsible but you'd make sure to own up to your brand new responsibilities.

"Thank you commander, have a good night."

Jenny took back her phone, ending the call after a few last words with her commander. The team cheered. Melissa smiled at you.

"We have to celebrate!" One said.

"I can't believe this just turned into a celebration" Jenny cheered.

"Yeah… Sparrow has a thing for Riley's." Melissa teased.

The team awkwardly looked at each other.

"So… it's true? For… you and Lieutenant…" jenny asked.

You nodded trying to not make a fuss out of it.

"He said he wanted a dog. I think he'll be thrilled… or probably scold me but he'll get around eventually." You joked.

The team laughed a bit.

"Let's grab a drink!" A man said.

"Oh… well… just one. We got lots of work tomorrow…" Melissa said.

"Yeah. And I got to find lots of stuff for my new furr baby." You said.

"We'll help you with that! We can give you a few stuff for the night." Jenny assured.

You smiled.

"Alright. One drink."

You walked to the car with your new friend. You were surprised how Riley followed you without a problem. You opened the passenger door of the black jeep. Simon had left his car obviously, and insisted that you'd use it. You looked down at the dog, sitting, looking up at you.

"Come on Riley. Let's go home."

He seemed to understand as he jumped into front seat. You closed the door, dropping all the things the team had given you in the backseat. Walking around the car you got into the driver's seat. The black dog was sitting next to you, looking at you.

"It's ok. We'll be ok." You assured.

You turned the key, heading home.

You walked into the doorway. The house was quiet..empty. You turned on the lights as you closed the door behind you. You bent down to take off the leash. Riley didn't move. You started walking to the kitchen, watching him follow you slowly. He really looked sad. You dropped the things on the counter. You looked down at the dog who looked at you.

You grabbed the bag of dog food, walking to get a bowl. You filled it with food and grabbed another bowl to fill it with water. Walking back to the dog and softly putting down the bowls in front of him. He looked at them. He went for the water, lapping a bit. He smelled the food but refused to eat. You sighed. Of course it wouldn't be that easy. You sat down on the floor next to him. He laid down next to you, looking at you.

You grabbed his collar softly, petting the sides of his head.

"I know… I know… you miss your soldier."

He whined.

"I miss mine too…"

The next day you had warned Laswell you'd be a bit late. She didn't mind. You had drove with Riley to the base's Vet.

You walked in with him heading for the receptionist.

"Hi, good morning, I'd like to buy some dog food and vitamins." You asked the man.

"Oh… hum.. Sparrow…i mean… ma'am…" he stuttered.

"It's alright. Breath." You smiled.

He did so. He looked relieved.

"Hum… so you have a dog?" He asked.

"It's very recent but yes." You said looking to your side.

The big black dog was sitting next to you, looking up at you. The man rose above the counter to look down.

"Oh.. that's…that's Riley…" he said.

"You know him?" You frowned.

"Hum… yeah. We took care of him when he came back from the field… and when he refused to eat. I thought he was going to be put down." He said with a frown.

"I decided to take him in." You said.

The man smiled.

"I'll be right back gonna see for the vitamins, I'll help you choose some food for him." He said.

You nodded with a smile. Other soldiers stood with their dogs in the waiting room. They looked at you, recognizing you and the black dog. They seemed anxious. Suddenly you heard the voices from behind the counter, in the back of the clinic.

"Tell this woman she's waisting her time. The dog was scheduled to be put down this afternoon and I can still do it. But she's waisting money and time."

You frowned, feeling the anger rise.

"Hum… ma'am… I think we shouldn't…" the receptionist tried.

"Fine I'll tell her myself. It's stupid to waist vitamins and food on a hopeless dog."

Now you were furious. You felt a nudge in your palm. You looked next to you at the dog looking at you intensely. You bent down to pet him and drop a kiss on top of his head. You heard the voice get closer to the front desk. You were hidden behind it as you were cuddling Riley.

"Where is she?! Ma'am I suggest you hand the dog over, he should be put-"

You rose to your feet, eyeing the angry woman. She had frozen in spot. You glanced down looking at her badge, taking in her name. The room had fallen silent.

"I didn't come to ask for your opinion. Did I?" You spat.

Her gaze faltered.

"You'd be kind enough to give me what I asked please."

The woman cleared her throat.

"I have to remind you-" she tried, in a softer tone.

"Again. Didn't ask." You answered angrily.

She swallowed.

"You're not gonna give it to me?" You asked, raising a brow. "Very well. Hum… dr… Jenkins." You squinted your eyes exaggeratedly.

"Come on Riley, let's go somewhere else." You turned around before stopping.

"Wait! Hum.. we'll give you the vitamins and food. But you're waisting your time." She said.

"You're the one waisting my time. And I'm getting pissed." You warned, looking back at her.

Riley whined. You looked down at him, petting his head.

"Hum… how about we look into the different foods?" The receptionist asked, trying to ease the situation..

You nodded, throwing a dark glance at the vet. You'd be sure to have a talk with Laswell and Hopkins later.

An hour later your arrived at the IT's IQ. Riley followed you inside, you had a bag with dog food, a water bottle and a cappuccino in hand. The room fell quiet when they saw you walk in with the black shepherd.

"Hum… Sparrow." Laswell called confused. "What's that?"

"A cappuccino." You answered.

She rolled her eyes.

"Sparrow. Why do you have a dog?" She asked.

"Oh. That's Riley. He's my dog now." You said matter of factly.

Bishop laughed while coyote looked confused, gasping. Laswell looked just as confused. You decided to go to your desk to sit at your chair. Riley had followed you, laying down at your feet.

"No. No. Sparrow. We're not going to ignore this."

You put Reaper down. It seemed to get Riley's attention. He stood, siting now. You looked at the dog, then at the plush.

"We can share. But you need to be gentle with it. Ok?" You said.

The dog tilted his head to the side, curious. You picked up the plush, slightly worried of your next action. You gave it to him. He very gently grabbed it with his mouth, falling back down to the floor. He put it down in between his paws, sniffing and pushing his nose into it. He was gentle with it, and did not sink his teeth. You smiled, turning back to your computer.

"No! Sparrow! We're going to talk about this!" Laswell warned.

You did not, in fact, talk about it.

The day turned out to be much more important than you thought. It turns out the day prior the boys were very close to tracking down the brothers. And they had finally reached their targets. You had been feeling an absolute mess. You had noticed it seemed to affect Riley. He stood closer to you. Nudged your hand or leg, grasping your attention.

You'd always pet him or cuddle him. When the news had finally fallen that they had gotten their hands on the target, the room filled with joy. It was over. The mission was a success. But not to you. Not until you had him next to you. Bishop and Coyote were stoked. Laswell was smiling at you. Yes. It relaxed you. But you only had him in mind. Only his arms around you.

"Hey. It's over. They're coming back." Coyote said.

You took a deep breath. Yes. They were coming back.

You remained in the room for hours. Even after. You remained until you knew they were back on their base. Bishop and Coyote we're much more relaxed. Laswell kept in touch with the general once in a while and the authorities there. You just wanted to talk to him. You were glad they had finally caught the cartel brothers. But your mind kept running to him. He was finally coming home.

You smiled at the pup next to you. He seemed to be curious and to watch you very often. Through the day you tried to feed him little pieces of treats or food. He had first fully refused, then slowly bitten a treat. You had been delighted, causing him to perk his ears up at your reaction. You showered him with 'good boy' and pets. Laswell kept trying to question you about your new companion and you ignored it.

He had attracted all the attention from the women in the room and some men too.

When the sun had started to set outside, you were called to video chat with the team.

"Hey!!" Bishop called to the screen.

"Well hello there, pretty eyes." Soap flirted.

"Get out, you'll flirt later!" Gaz groaned.

You smiled.

Price and Simon weren't present. You chatted with the group, Konig, grim, Carkeys, Áquila… it felt great to know they were ok.

"We're getting an extraction in a few hours! We'll be home soon!" Car-Keys said, relief in his voice.

You had rolled your eyes, the girl nagging him about when he had lost his Car Keys on a field mission.

When Simon finally showed up, he greeted the girls before the rest of the team gave you a little privacy.

"I got a surprise for you!" You smiled at the screen.

"Hmm a surprise?" He looked curious.

You picked up the big dog into your arms, Riley licking your face.

"His name is Riley !" You happily announced.

You heard him chuckle.

"Where did you get a dog?" He asked, a hint of a smile in his voice.

"He was being taken to be put down… his soldier was KIA. He wasn't eating, he let himself die. We're slowly getting used to each other, he eats very tiny pieces…I'm trying to get him to feel safe." You explained.

There was a little silence before he spoke again.

"Here you go again… saving a Riley."

You blushed, looking at the screen. The pixels weren't enough. Not anymore. You wanted your soldier back.

"Come back to me…" you said.

"I'm coming home, baby. We have plans."

You bit your lip through a smile. Yes. He was coming home.

Night had settled in. You had driven home right after ending the call. For the past 2 hours you had been happily roaming around the house. Riley was curious watching you pace around. For dinner, you sat down on the floor next to him, trying to motivate him to eat. He had not eaten his food. He had accepted two little bites of the steak you were eating. It was enough to cause a happy squeal from you each time.

It was almost midnight when the girls showed up. Melissa included. Amy was with a babysitter for the occasion. Bishop had brought a bottle of vodka to celebrate the end of the mission.

Riley always remained close to you. The girls loved to pet him. A conversation had settled in, time passing by without any of you noticing. Eventually, it was 2 am, and you were giggling together. You had decided to only drink a shot or two, not really wanting to get drunk.

Riley was laying on the couch with you, bishop and Coyote we're cuddling on another couch with Melissa at the other end.

"God! You need to be more confident darling! We see how he looks at you. He's curious" Bishop teased.

"He's… I don't know…" Coyote blushed.

"I say. Go for it." Melissa added.

You giggled again.

A knock interrupted your conversation. You heard the door unlock. You frowned before hearing Laswell's voice.

"We're here Kate!" You chuckled.

The girls laughed too, a new friend entering the circle promised more jokes and gossip.

When Kate stepped into the room, the air shifted. Hopkins walked behind her. The air had grown suffocating. You had lost your smile. The girls had gone silent. They were dressed officially.

"Kate?" You questioned.

She seemed to swallow hard, eyes not leaving yours. You stood up, the girls doing the same. You walked over to them, the tiny footsteps of Riley on the floor following you. You crossed your arms in a comforting movement.

"Squad 141 initiated extraction 45 minutes ago." Hopkins started.

You frowned.

"During extraction, they were confronted with an ambush." He continued.

You felt your heart drop. Was he injured? What happened?

"Can you skip to the news please?" Bishop interrupted.

He looked at her, thinking.

"Listen… Y/N…" Kate stepped forwards to you.

You felt the walls closing in. Something terrible hovering over your head.

You felt a nudge on your arm. Riley tried to keep you grounded to reality. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was just… something else. You were overreacting.

Kate looked torn. She wanted to talk, obviously. But something seemed to hold her back.

Hopkins sighed, clearing his throat.

"We are sad and sorry to inform you that Lieutenant Simon Riley and Captain John Price were KIA."

What.. what was that? That sound… your ears were buzzing. You felt nauseous. You felt like your whole body had gotten heavier. Like it no longer belonged to you.

"No." You let out.

"Y/N. Listen to me, please.." Kate tried.

She reached for your hand but you took a step back.

"No. That's… no." You looked at her. "Kate…" you begged.

Her eyes were filled with tears. She didn't speak. She looked away. It was true. It was…

Hopkins took a step forward. Riley suddenly growled, inching closer to your leg.

"Sparrow, I would advise you to-"

"Get out."

Silence fell.

"What..?" Kate questioned.

"Get out. All of you." You said again.

You felt surrounded. Your brain felt on fire yet you felt like you were drowning.

We have plans.

"Y/N…" bishop tried.

"Please. Get. Out." You warned.

Melissa grabbed Coyote by the shoulders, hugging her. They walked towards the door, Bishop and Kate following, dragging Hopkins with them. You heard the front door close.

Silence. Deafening silence.

You let yourself kneel to the floor, Riley alert next to you. This wasn't happening. It couldn't be true. No.

You felt something fall on your hand. You looked down, the little droplets shining under the light. You were crying. You felt like someone was ripping your heart out.

Your mind had decided to torture you, reenacting every kiss, every hug every promise in a tangling loop. It felt like you could hear his voice. Him. Calling for you. But it wasn't true. It wasn't real. Never again…

For the second time in your life, you screamed. You screamed until something deep in your throat broke. And just like last time. Under attack in the training grounds. You screamed for him. You poured your mind, soul, heart into a scream you knew. You knew despite the mind wrecking hope. He would not answer this time.

-----

Everything must come to an end...

or not...

SIKE

see you on chapter 16

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