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seokgyuu · 1 year

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→ PAIRING: Seokmin x Afab!Reader. → GENRE: College!Au, kinda comedy, small bit of angst if you look hard enough, teeny tiny fluff, smut MDNI. → SYNOPSIS: After having a crush on Lee Seokmin for three years, he somehow ends up wanting to be your roommate. Instead of rejecting him, you decide to give him the vacant room - right after confessing your feelings for him.

→ WARNINGS: roommate!seok, wet dreams, coming untouched (f), degradation, usage of the words slut, baby, angel, masturbation (m), making out, like really so much kissing, fingering, finger-sucking, she loves his fingers lol, unprotected sex (don't.. just don't), creampie.

→ WORDCOUNT: 11.5k

A/N: hi guys!! here it is (for some of you even on the date it was scheduled to be posted!), my first ever stand-alone svt fic! no part 2, no whole ass series, just this cute 11.5k baby I wrote after being deep inside my seokmin shaped hole (i am always in a seokmin shaped hole actually). i want to thank my bestie @honeykyeom for making the amazing header as well for being my inspiration for writing this <3 ily!! now, i hope you enjoy and as always please reblog & comment, these things are what makes writing worth while <3

You had a crush. A big fat stupid crush. And it was starting to get extremely annoying. You really tried to stop liking him because a.) he didn’t even know you existed and b.) even if he did he would never ever like you back because what are the odds for that to actually happen?

“People get together all the time, Y/N, stop being dumb,” Seungkwan, your best friend, would say on the regular since the topic came up basically every other day. Yet, you still didn’t believe the Lee Seokmin would ever give you so much as a second glance. He was too perfect. Perfect grades, perfect friend group, perfect face, perfect everything. You had first laid eyes on him on your first day of classes - he had started the same year as you, smile on his face, shiny new MacBook propped in front of him. He wore an adorable baby blue sweater and black rimmed glasses, his hair falling into his forehead and, god, you were gone the second you heard his honey dripping voice.

That had been three years ago and now, both of you in your senior years, you still hadn’t talked to him even once. Or well, no, you had, when he had asked you for a phone charger which you had given him in exactly three seconds. You were still proud of that.

“Hey, I heard you’re looking for a roommate?”

“Are you- are you talking to me?” Your index finger was pointing at yourself while you blinked a few times at the person in front of you.

“Uh, I mean, you are Y/N, right?” Kim Mingyu seemed just as confused as you. Probably because you were in fact Y/N and you were, in fact, looking for a roommate, but how on earth did he know that?

“No, I mean, yes, yes I am, but, uh, how do you- how do you know I’m looking for a roommate?”

“Oh, Seungkwan told me!”

“You know Seungkwan?!”

Mingyu seems a little startled by your sudden outburst. You cleared your throat before chuckling nervously.

“S-sorry, I just didn’t know Seungkwan and you knew each other.”

“We go to the same gym, actually, and I told him my friend is desperately looking for a place and he told me you are in search of a roommate so…,” his smile was bright and pretty and you felt like you were about to wake up from a dream because why the hell was Seokmin’s bestie talking to you as if he had done it thousand of times before?

“I see, uh, I mean, I am definitely desperate for a roommate, rent you know, like, uh, I need to pay it soon and… well, I am short half of it and that’s what I would… need the roommate for,” you scratched your ear. Smooth.

“No, I understand! And my friend is just as desperate. See, he just broke up with his long-term girlfriend, she cheated on him, and now he just really needs to move out.”

“Oh, damn, sorry about that. You can tell him he can come by, eh, does tomorrow work? Like afternoon-ish? I have classes until four.”

“Awesome! I’ll let him know, thank you Y/N!”

Mingyu beamed at you, his hand up in the air as he waved, walking away and out of the building. Letting out a sigh you hadn’t even known you were holding, you grabbed your phone from your bag and unlocked it, quickly moving your fingers over the display to call Seungkwan. Walking out the opposite direction Mingyu had, you waited for your best friend to pick up, pushing open the door into the hot air of the early evening.

“What’s up?” Seungkwan finally picked up and you rolled your eyes at the greeting.

“Hello to you too, Kwannie,” you said in a sweet voice, hearing Seungkwan scoff as a response.

“I’m in the middle of something, Y/N. So, what’s up?”

“Kim Mingyu just asked me if a friend of his can move in with me,” you raised your brows as you walked over the campus to the parking lot, the keys to your car already dangling from your fingers, “care to tell me why you didn’t mention that?”

“Ah, that, well, I actually met Mingyu at the gym earlier today, like super early morning, and heard him talk to his friend on the phone and well, since I do have a few classes with him, I thought I should offer.”

“You should offer? Pretty sure it’s still my apartment you were selling off to a stranger.”

“Now, now. Mingyu isn’t a stranger now, is he? How many times have you stalked his insta now to look at that one specific gym picture of Seokm-,”

“Whatever, just- just please, for the future, let me know when you tell someone about my living situation, alright?”

“Sure thing, bestie. Now, can I get back to what I was doing?”

“Of course. Tell Hansol I said hi.” Before he could either protest or deny, you hung up and shoved your phone into your pocket.

You dreamt of him again. It was a rare occasion, but it happened. Most of the time the dreams were innocent enough, just him touching your face, him laughing at your jokes, him simply acknowledging your existence.

But this one was different.

Seokmin was right above you, his body hot and sweaty. His eyes said so much more than words ever could and yet you longed to hear his voice. Longed to hear him say your name. He was buried deep inside you, his hips still, eyes never leaving yours. He throbbed, his whole body seemingly vibrated at how much he wanted you, your legs wrapped around his waist, wanting nothing more than for him to take you, mark you, fill you.

“Tell me what you want,” he whispered, his hand caressing your face and you moved your head, your mouth sucking in his thumb, feeling him twitch inside of you.

“You can’t really talk with that in your mouth, can you, Y/N?” Fuck, his voice was so low so deep and when he finally moved down to kiss your neck, stuffing his thumb even further down your mouth, his hips now beginning to thrust, all of you began to shake.

Then, suddenly, you were in your living room, right there on that windowsill that connected the kitchen and the living room, his hips drilling into you. He was wearing a dress shirt and a black tie, but both of it was loosened around his neck, your hands on his broad shoulders as he seemed to have made it his goal to fuck you senseless. You were a moaning mess, his lips sucking harshly on your skin, you yourself being completely naked. His mouth was everywhere: your neck, your stiff nipple, your lips. He took all of you in and you breathed in every bit he gave you.

“You’re so fucking good for me, baby, so good, such a good little slut, letting me fuck her like this.”

“Mhm, y-yes, I l-love the way you f-fuck me, Seok!” His grip on you got stronger, hands digging harshly into your hips as he threw his head back now, your eyes taking in all of his beauty. The droplets of sweat, the bopping Adam’s apple as he swallowed, the way his vein popped out right there on his neck…

“Gonna make me cum, baby,” he moaned and you nodded strongly, feeling your own climax so close.

“Please, want your cum so bad!” you whined and as if those had been the magic words, Seokmin emptied inside of you, the feeling of his cum hitting you so deep-

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

You screamed, while your back hit the floor. You had fallen out of bed, your alarm blasting on the other side of your bed.

“Fuck,” you groaned, sitting up slowly, your hand rubbing the back of your head. Funnily enough, that wasn’t the only part of you that throbbed. Just for a completely different reason.

“You came in your sleep?” Seungkwan was impressed with you. You just wanted to punch him because why did he have to say that this loud right in the line for lunch?

“Shut up!” you said through gritted teeth and Seungkwan snorted, before grabbing the big spoon for the Kimchi.

“Don’t worry, no one is listening.” Instead of arguing with him you rolled your eyes and grabbed some Japchae before heading to the drinks.

“But to answer your question: yes, I did. And no, that has never happened before. Like, I never ever had a dream like that, Seungkwan, never!”

“Aw, I can’t believe my best friend lost her wet dream virginity at the ripe age of 24!” He grinned as the two of you sat down at an empty table. You ignored him.

“It was so real. I honestly feel sick to my stomach. How could it have been so real?”

It was truly astonishing to you. Hours had passed and the dream was still there, playing in your head over and over again, making you squeeze your thighs together more than not in the worst moments. Statistic class wasn’t supposed to make you horny and yet, you couldn’t say it hadn’t.

“I’m jealous. I never had an actual wet dream make me cum before, like yeah, I woke up with cum in my underwear before, but then again that’s kind of normal I guess?”

“Dude! You don’t need wet dreams to make you orgasm, you have a literal boyfriend!”

“He is not my boyfriend!” Seungkwan protested and you grabbed your juice box to take a dramatic sip from it.

“Well, sounds like a you problem. Doesn’t change the fact you’re getting laid, though.” Seungkwan scoffed, crossing his arms as he leaned back in his chair. He apparently didn’t have a comeback. Served him right.

“It’s not like you are trying to change that,” nevermind. You sigh, putting the drink down again.

“What am I supposed to do? Just hook up with a random guy and act like I’m not madly in love with someone who doesn’t know I exist?”

“He knows you exist, you god damn drama queen. You had every class together first semester!”

You ignored him. Instead, you decided that your Japchae is the most interesting thing you had ever seen. Seungkwan shook his head and clicked his tongue.

“You’re an idiot, Y/N. Like the biggest idiot I have ever met.”

“Takes one to know one,” you muttered as a response, feeling a piece of kimchi hitting your cheek the next second.

You were home at four forty-five and hoped there would still be time to clean up the place at least a little bit before the potential-new-roommate-slash-friend-of-Kim-Mingyu showed up. In record time you found yourself standing in a semi-clean living room (meaning: maybe the floor showed some signs of needing to be vacuumed, but at least everything looked tidy) with all the windows open in hope for some cool air because you sure as hell weren’t going to turn on the AC without another person to cover the costs.

Just as you finished changing into some clothes not sweated through, the doorbell rang. Quickly, you made your way to the door, buzzing them up, only to hear a knock on the door next. Oh, so he had been let in already. Putting on your most charming smile, you pulled the door open, only for the smile to fade the second you saw who stood there right in front of your door.

“Y/N?”

Lee Seokmin had just said your name. And he was standing in front of your apartment.

“Seokmin, what- what are you doing here?” You asked, oblivious to the situation.

“I- uh, I- Mingyu said he told you I was coming?”

“Mingyu? No he said that-,” you lost your ability to speak just then. The friend Mingyu had been talking about-

“Wait, you- you’re the potential new roommate?!” Your voice was barely anything but a squeak. Seokmin looked a little lost, his fingers nervously fidgeting with the hem of his oversized yellow jumper.

“Yeah, did he not mention that?”

Nope, seems like he forgot that part. You swallowed, pressing your lips together for a second while your brain tried to fully grasp the situation. This was Seokmin. Aka the guy you have been in love with for three years. And he wanted to move in with you.

“Uh, no. Sorry, please come in!” You took a step back and Seokmin smiled at you (HE smiled at YOU!!!), walking into your apartment and looking around as you closed the door, hoping your racing heart would calm down. You wouldn’t exactly bet on it though.

Seokmin took his shoes off and you watched him, already beginning to chew on your lip like you always did when you were nervous. He turned around and you quickly smiled, walking into the living space.

“So, this is the living room, it uh-,” you stopped speaking, your eyes now on the window connecting the kitchen and living room, on the windowsill you had just dreamt about last night. Your face suddenly got very hot.

“It connects to the kitchen through that window, which I thought was really cool, big selling point,” you watched as Seokmin walked over to the kitchen, his eyes roaming through the room and when he stopped in front of the window, hand touching the sill you nearly felt yourself loose footing. Why the fuck did he have to do this? For a second you were convinced this was just another dream.

“It definitely is unique,” he said, nodding and walking into the small but modern kitchen.

“Uhm, there is a dishwasher in the kitchen and a microwave. We don’t have an oven, but I am pretty sure I have like a small one in the attic. I am more of a take-out or quick meal kind of gal, so I don’t really use it much. But if you were interested in baking something, I could definitely get it down,” Jesus, why on earth were you talking so much? But Seokmin seemed to appreciate it, nodding understandingly as he looked around with a small pout on his lips. Maybe this wasn’t the right moment (or maybe it was the perfect moment) to stare at him, but you did. You watched his every move, how he checked out the cupboards, how he asked before he opened the fridge, how he pulled a hand through his hair as he asked a question.

Oh!

“Sorry?” You crossed your arms, the hotness of your cheeks only increasing. Seokmin chuckled.

“I asked if you had a certain system in your fridge with your old roommate.”

“Oh, well, not really. We kind of always planned what we were going to eat, she was a big cook actually. Enjoyed it a lot. I store my Ramen right here, wait,” you walked into the kitchen fully now too, to the cupboard next to where Seokmin was standing and got on your tiptoes to reach for the door, opening it in a swing.

“There,” you explained, looking over at Seokmin - only to see him look at you instead of the food. You blinked a few times. He blushed.

“Ah, yes, I see. Cool. So, uh, no system. That’s fine with me! I wouldn’t say I’m a cook per sé, but I can hook up some simple dishes,” he turned away, your whole body suddenly feeling a lot hotter than a second before. Nodding, you closed the cupboard again and walked back outside. Seokmin followed you.

You showed him the rest of the apartment (except for your room) and finally the two of you ended up in the living room again where you sat down on the couch.

“I, uh, I would love to take the room, Y/N. But it’s obviously up to you.” His smile was so… you gulped down whatever response you had in your mind. Now wasn’t the time to eat right out of his hands, no, you had to think about this. On the one hand, you really needed a roommate. There was no chance you could hold this apartment by yourself and you really didn’t want to move. But on the other hand, this was Seokmin. You couldn’t just let him move in with you when you liked him this much, could you? At least not without him knowing. An idea popped into your head. It was risky and stupid and you would probably regret this. But then again - if he wanted to move in, and apparently he was just as desperate as you to get this room, it would only be fair to let him know what the situation was.

“Look, Seokmin,” you started, your hands in your lap, your heart racing again (or still). You looked up at him, your cheeks still bright red. Seokmin watched you, unsure what to make of your current behavior. He decided to just let you talk.

“I really need a roommate. And you really need a place to live. Mingyu, uh, he told me about the break-up and I’m really sorry about that,” - you were also happy you hadn’t tried to make a move considering he had a girlfriend -, “but I would feel horrible to let you take this room without knowing the full truth.”

Now, Seokmin got a little spooked. The full truth? Were you going to confess that you were a drug dealer? Part of some gang? But then you probably wouldn’t need a roommate considering you’d make good money.

“I, uh, okay,” Seokmin swallowed hard. You took a deep breath.

“I like you. As in, I like you. I have for years now. I didn’t know you had a girlfriend, and to be honest, even if I had, I probably wouldn’t have succeeded in getting over this crush. I’m not telling you because I am expecting anything from you, I promise, hell, I never planned on telling you ever. But you want the room and I would be happy to give it to you, I would just feel weird having you live here with this big secret to keep.”

There were approximately three minutes of silence in which you were sure Seokmin would get up and leave. He stared at you, his mouth slightly dropped and you could have kicked yourself for finding him endearing. Starting to shift on your seat once the third minute started, Seokmin realized he had been staring instead of answering. But then again, he really had not expected this sudden confession.

“I, uh, I am flattered, Y/N, really, I just, I- I just got out of a relationship and-,”

“I know that! As I said, I didn’t tell you because I want anything from you. I have been happy liking you from afar, Seokmin. And who knows, maybe having you close by all the time will actually make me stop liking you. I mean, what if you’re like a total slob or listen to super weird historical podcasts?”

“What do you have against historical podcasts?” Seokmin asked, eyebrows raised in surprise. You chuckled.

“Nothing in particular. But my last roommate listened to them on like full blast. Just got annoying at some point.”

He nodded now, understanding. Yeah, he could see why that would be annoying at some point. Still, that wasn’t the real issue here. Or, well, was it really an issue? He cleared his throat.

“I- I don’t take you as someone who would let her feelings get the best of her. And, to be honest, I’m not really the type of guy you should have a crush on, Y/N. But, uh, I’m still very flattered. And I don’t think this would stop me from moving in, as you said, we are both desperate.”

You were surprised and it showed. Seokmin chuckled.

“Or do you not want me here?”

“No! I do, I really need you to move in,” you said, tugging a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Seokmin nodded again.

“Then it’s settled. I’ll get my stuff asap and then we’ll be roomies.”

“Can’t wait!”

Seungkwan thought you were insane. He hadn’t known it was Seokmin when Mingyu had approached him and now he regretted ever offering it.

“What do you mean you told him?!” He was sitting at your small dinner table in the living room. You shrugged.

“What was I supposed to do? Just let him move in and carry this huge ass secret with me all the time? I don’t think so.”

“You could have just told him no, Y/N.”

“Right, and then what? I see him in class every other day? How awkward would that be?”

“You mean as awkward as living with a guy who knows you have a crush on him?!” When you shrugged again, Seungkwan groaned, pulling his hands over his face.

“You’re seriously insane, I can’t believe you did this!”

And about a week after Seokmin had officially moved in, you couldn’t believe it either.

Living with Seokmin proved to do the exact opposite of what you had mentioned in your chat with him. He wasn’t a slob. And he also didn’t listen to any podcast on full volume. He cleaned, cooked, gave you space. Every morning he got up earlier than you and prepared coffee, before going out for a jog - only to come back while you were having breakfast, looking all sweaty and sexy. The first time this had happened you had choked on your toast, drinking what felt like one whole liter of orange juice before finally being able to stop coughing. Seokmin had hit your back a few times, apologizing for startling you. And yet, he didn’t stop doing it, which made you used to it after a while (it didn’t).

Instead of falling out of love with him, you found yourself drawn to him even more, craving his presence. When he was gone, you missed him, and when he was home you wanted to hear everything about his day, wanted to eat dinner with him, watch a new episode of that show you had started together.

Seokmin was outside in the living room, his laptop placed on his lap, an essay he needed to proof read opened as he sipped on a can of beer. He was on his favorite spot on the floor, right in front of the couch, leaning his back against it. Actually, he had wanted to go to sleep an hour ago, but then he had talked with his sister on the phone and now he was back to this. It had been two months since he had moved in with you despite knowing you had feelings for him. Back when you had originally told him, he had felt like he should probably run because the last thing he needed right now was complicated. Things with Hyorin had been complicated enough. But, as he now knew, you weren’t complicated in the slightest. More so the opposite. It didn’t take long for Seokmin to begin to understand you and your patterns. It also didn’t take long for him to figure out how much you actually liked him. If he had been anyone else he might have taken advantage of that. Flirt with you, get you into his bed. But he was Seokmin, he wasn’t a guy who would do that. Not that he hadn’t… thought about it. Seeing the way you looked at him, especially after his morning runs or when he came back from the gym in the evening… it took everything in him not to imagine you looking at him that way when he was fucking you.

Seokmin wasn’t a sex-hungry person, normally. Maybe because he had been in a long-term relationship for five years. But now, with his relationship being over for two months and the periods before that being dry in the sex department… he was starting to miss it. Dearly.

So, when he sat there on the floor, his head focusing on the contents of this essay he wrote a day earlier in the library, he couldn’t really help getting distracted by the sounds coming from your room. His ears perked up and his head turned sideways, throat already drying up. Were you crying? Maybe you were-

“O-oh.”

His laptop slipped from his lap when he got up. His heart speed rose and sweat was starting to form on his hairline. That certainly wasn’t the type of crying he had meant. Slowly, he walked over to the door of your room that he only now realized wasn’t properly shut. He felt bad, guilty even, when he peeked through the small opening, seeing you apparently asleep. A dream? He licked his lips. Were you dreaming?

“S-Seokmin.”

Something inside him switched over. His whole body started to heat up, his cock desperately beginning to twitch in his briefs. Fuck, he hadn’t ever expected that hearing you moan his name would do so much. You were dreaming, yes, about him. And he heard you, heard you moaning, the whimpers. And god, did you sound perfect. He leaned against the wall next to your room, letting his dick get harder with every second, waiting for your noises like an addict. He couldn’t stop, couldn’t get himself to move away and mind his own business. He was intoxicated by you. He took everything he could, every breath, as small as they might be. The sighs following the moan of his name.

For now, he only listened. He didn’t want to touch himself here, didn’t want to be that type of person. But then again, he had already parked himself right outside your room, listening to you having a wet dream, it wasn’t like beginning to jerk off would make much of a difference. So, he slowly moved his hand, palming himself over his sweats, feeling how hard he was because of you. He closed his eyes, ears concentrating only on you. He wondered what you were dreaming about. What was he doing to you right now? Was he holding you down as he fucked you? Was he going down on you, tasting you? God, he really wanted to taste you.

For a second he contemplated going in and waking you up - making your dream reality. But he couldn’t. Not knowing what he did.

Opening his eyes, he suddenly felt guilt rushing over him and he was quick to close your door, making his way over to where he had sat earlier and grabbing his laptop.

Once he was in his own room, door locked and all, he tried to clear his head of the sounds you had made, of the way it was him you were dreaming about. But with his cock this hard and you so close… it was no use. He put his laptop on his desk and laid down on his bed after, taking a deep breath. He couldn’t hear you from his room and, god, was he relieved. Not hearing you did not equal not remembering you, though. And so, knowing he was going to lose to his conscience anyways, he opened the drawer in his bedside table and got out the package of lube, squeezing a bit on his right hand, while the left shoved down his sweats and briefs, letting his erection hit the cool air of his room.

He sighed in relief when his right hand began squeezing him, head leaned back into the pillows, hand now moving up and down slowly. You were right there in front of his inner eye, the way you sounded, but also the image of how you would look underneath him. Moaning his name, begging him to go faster. Then, he imagined your cheek stuffed with his cock, imagined your teary eyes when he began fucking down your throat.

“F-fuck,” he couldn’t help but go faster, his hips lifting up his bed as he fucked his fist, wishing it was your pussy or your mouth, any of your holes would do. How badly he wanted to hear you beg, wanted you to be on your knees, mouth open and tongue out, ready to take whatever he was willing to give. Pouty lips and round eyes, wishing for nothing more than Seokmin’s cock filling you up.

“God, just like that, Y/N, f-fuck,” he couldn’t help but moan as he came, his load landing on his clothed chest.

Coming down from his high, Seokmin opened his eyes, blinking a few times before he really understood what had happened. Groaning, he let his left hand rub over his face, before he shook his head and sat up. He got rid of his shirt and threw it in the laundry bin, walking to the door unlocking and opening it to go to the bathroom - only to run into you who just came out of the bathroom. Your eyes grew wide when you spotted Seokmin - shirtless and sweaty and with this certain look in his eyes that made your legs grow weaker.

Not knowing what he was doing, Seokmin walked straight over to you, his hands finding the sides of your neck, his lips crashing into yours a second later. You didn’t know what was happening, didn’t know what to do - but you kissed him back, your hands on his broad back, as he pushed you against the wall, his meaty perfect thigh shoved between your legs now, pressing against your still sensitive core. You gasped into the kiss, his tongue now devouring yours, one of his hands moving down and underneath your shirt, grabbing your breast and squeezing it harshly. Your arms locked around his neck, moans getting caught by his skillful mouth. Were you still dreaming?

“Seokmin,” you moaned when his hand squeezed your nipple and only then did he realize what was happening. Immediately, he parted from you, causing you to miss his kiss and touch the second he left.

“What-,” you began, but before you could even finish the question, he had already turned around and walked back into his room, closing the door behind him. And locking it.

He acted like nothing happened. You were anxiously waiting in the kitchen the next morning, but once he came back from his run he just showed you his normal goofy self, excusing himself to go take a shower. The way you had stood there, fully ready (not really) to talk about the night before, still in your pjs, still dizzy from the dream you had had as well as the very real kiss afterward. Why had he done that? Had he suddenly turned into a sleepwalker? A sleepwalker that kissed his roommate as if he had been starving?

You sure as hell weren’t going to bring it up first. So, you played along, pretending like it didn’t happen.

“I am declaring you clinically insane, Y/N,” Seungkwan was munching away on his corndog, while you and his (not) boyfriend Hansol sat opposite him at one of the smaller booths of the diner.

“He started it,” you shrugged, grabbing your own corndog now to take a bite from it.

“Okay, and? You could have started the conversation. For example: “Hey roomie, so about that night where you came out of your room clearly just done with getting yourself off and then kissed me? Like really hard? Against a wall?” See, that would have been a great conversation starter.”

You deadpanned at him.

“You’re an idiot,” shaking your head, you leaned back in your seat, “what if he really like, I don’t know, was in a delirious state? Maybe he drank alone before bed and just had a black out?”

“Or maybe he is an asshole who can’t own up to his actions,” Seungkwan shrugged, “but sure, yours sounds way more likely.”

“Seungkwan is right, Y/N. You should just bring it up,” Hansol looked at you and you sighed, letting your head drop onto the table.

“I don’t think I can. I’m too mortified. What if he totally regrets kissing me and that’s why he is pretending like it didn’t happen?”

“That still doesn’t give him permission to act this way. I don’t care if he is deeply in love with you or hates you, I just want him to be humane enough to tell you.”

It stung, the way he was right. Whatever Seokmin was feeling, he had to share it with you. He couldn’t just-

“Am I going crazy or is Seokmin standing outside?” You raised your head again, eyes wide when you realized you were, in fact, not going crazy. Seokmin was right there outside the diner, on the other side of the street, his phone in his hand, an anxious look on his face.

“Did you tell him you were coming here?” Hansol asked and you shook your head.

“No, we barely saw each other this morning.”

What was he doing here? And why did he look like he would rather be anywhere else? Your eyes scanned the surroundings, a sour feeling suddenly spreading in your guts. You were only a few streets down from your apartment, the street wasn’t exactly busy but had some really good places to eat. This was the perfect meeting spot for-

“Who’s that?” Seungkwan shifted closer to the window next to you, his eyes squeezed together as if he was trying harder to recognise whoever had just shown up next to Seokmin. You didn’t have to know her to… know her. Hyorin. His ex-girlfriend that had cheated on him. He had mentioned her to you only a few times, you being a little reluctant to ask considering he knew how you felt about him. But from what you had gathered he hated her, never wanted to see her again. So why was he here now? With her?

“Is that…?” Seungkwan looked over at you, worry displayed on his face and you pressed your lips together as you nodded.

She was beautiful. Tall, long silky black hair. Her skin glowing even from here. She was the girl Seokmin should be kissing in his delirious state, in any state, really. You swallowed down the tears that threatened to spill out and averted your gaze. Your appetite had left you and you wanted nothing more than to flee the scene, go home and never think of this moment again.

“Should we leave?” Hansol asked, looking over at Seungkwan a little helplessly. Seungkwan nodded quickly and his (not) boyfriend grabbed your arm and helped you get out of the booth. As much as you felt like yelling at him that you didn’t need this help, as much did you appreciate the gesture. Seungkwan paid at the front desk and you left the diner, your heart in desperate need for some distraction.

When Seokmin got home that evening, you weren’t there. A part of him was relieved while another one already missed your presence. Sighing, he kicked off his shoes and finally slipped down onto the couch, hands rubbing over his face. This whole thing was a mess. Today was a mess. Hyorin had called him and asked him to meet up and because he was who he was he had said yes. He should have known she would just try to apologize for the nth time, telling him it had only happened once and that he was the only one for her. Little did she know that he gave zero fucks at this point. He didn’t want her anymore, he didn’t love her anymore. She had broken his heart and stomped on it, had lied and cheated, had done all these horrible things to him. And yet, he was somewhat grateful because now he was right here. In your apartment.

It was silly, really, because he had been dating Hyorin for two years already when he saw you the first time. You and your cute gray sweatshirt and the high ponytail. You, who had been the cutest person in every single one of your classes together. You, who he couldn’t develop feelings for because he had a girlfriend. Unlike Hyorin, he wasn’t a cheater. He had loved her, truly loved her. And he had been shattered when he found out about the other guy, feeling like he could never be fixed again. He had to get out of the shared apartment, had to leave it all behind as soon as he possibly could - and he had somehow ended up on your doorstep. It was crazy how the universe worked.

And as if that hadn’t been enough, you suddenly confessed to him, turning all of his feelings upside down. Because what was he supposed to say? Supposed to do? God, he was heartbroken over Hyorin and yet there was this ray of light in the shape of a girl that loved to spend her evenings watching trashy teen drama and cry over a bucket of Ben & Jerry’s when a character you didn’t even particularly like died on screen.

Seokmin didn’t want to allow him to like you. He was scared that maybe you liking him altered his brain chemistry, that perhaps he would want to be with you only as a rebound and you were too good, too perfect to be anything of that kind. And so, when that night had happened and he had lost his composure, he knew he messed up. He knew you had feelings for him, god, he probably would have figured it out even if you hadn’t told him. Not just because of the dream he had overheard but because of the way you looked at him. The way you smiled, the way you laughed. He didn’t want you to look at anyone else like that.

The sound of a door unlocking filled the quiet room now and was soon joined by the giggles of a girl and the nervous laugh of a guy - and both of these voices were familiar to Seokmin. He immediately got up and walked over to the entry way - only to see Mingyu holding your waist as you, obviously drunk, tried to get out of your shoes.

“Mingyu?” Seokmin asked confusedly.

“Oh, hey Seok,” Mingyu said, holding you steady as you felt your knees giving in.

“What- what is going on?”

“We met at a bar, she was with Seungkwan and his boyfriend-,”

“He is not his boyfriend!” you interrupted him with a giggle.

“Uh, right, Seungkwan and his not-boyfriend were also super drunk and I called them a cab, but I really didn’t want to send Y/N home on her own so-,”

“Why didn’t you call me?” Seokmin now came closer, his eyes set on his best friend’s hand around your waist, his insides slowly but surely heating up with something he could only recognize as jealousy.

“Uh, I thought you were busy with… you know.”

Seokmin’s jaw tensed, his eyes fixed on Mingyu who had successfully held you down as you stepped out of your shoes.

“That has been resolved hours ago, Mingyu.”

“And how was he supposed to know that, hm?” The sudden sound of your voice made both men look over at you. Your hand was raised, finger pointed at Seokmin accusingly.

“Y/N-“, Mingyu started, but you shook your head and finally freed yourself from Mingyu’s grasp.

“No! No, I’m tired of this! Was it nice? Seeing your perfect ex again? Do you want to go back to her now? Move out and act like I don’t exist? Like you didn’t kiss me?”

Mingyu held his breath. You had told him all this in the bar earlier, where he had met you and Seungkwan and Hansol and where he had realized that you were madly in love with his best friend. He felt bad about you having seen Seokmin with Hyorin, but even more did he feel bad because it was also so painfully obvious that Seokmin liked you, too.

“I think you’re drunk,” Seokmin noted and you laughed, throwing your hands in the air. Mingyu stayed quiet.

“Do you, now? How observant of you, Seokmin.”

The two of you were staring at each other now, fury in both your eyes. Honestly, you didn’t know what he was angry about. After all you weren’t the one running back to her ex after kissing him the way he had you.

“I, uh, I guess I should go now,” Mingyu pointed at the door with his thumb over his shoulder, “you seem to… well, have a lot to talk about.”

The normally so cheerful and kind Seokmin didn’t wish his best friend a good night, nor did he even look at him when he left. Instead he kept looking at you, saw the way you waved at Mingyu and thanked him, your hand squeezing his arm. Lightning was shooting through him. Jealousy was about to eat him up, was about to make him grab you and yell that you shouldn’t touch Mingyu like that. It was dumb and he knew it. You made him crazy, you made him dumb. Like a teenager who was in love for the first time, unsure what to make of it.

Once the door had fallen shut, you stormed past your roommate, ready to enter your room and not leave it until the next day. Just that you didn’t get far. Seokmin ended up grabbing your arm after all, his touch burning on your skin.

“Mingyu is right, we do have a lot to talk about,” he said in a hushed voice, making you scoff.

“Fine, then talk.” With whatever willpower you had left, you looked at him. Saw the way his eyes were full of an emotion you couldn’t pinpoint - the fury from before still slightly visible but not alone. Perhaps it was anger for you speaking to him the way you had. Or maybe he was just annoyed at you for being drunk and loud and stupid.

“Look, Y/N. What happened between us was… it shouldn’t have happened, alright?”

“Why? Because you’re back together with your cheating ex?”

“No! God, no, I would never get back with Hyorin. And I can’t believe Mingyu told you about this and-,”

“He didn’t!” You freed yourself out of his grip, your eyes dangerously beginning to prickle, “I saw you. With her.”

He inhaled audibly - he hadn’t expected this. You saw him? With Hyorin? No wonder you were this upset. He pulled his hand through his hair.

“She wanted to talk things out. And because I’m too nice of a person I told her yes. Y/N, I don’t want to be with her anymore. She broke my heart, she hasn’t been the girl I fell in love with for ages now.”

“Why did you kiss me?” If you were honest, you didn’t really care about when Hyorin had stopped being the girl Seokmin loved. You were more interested in whether you were.

“I shouldn’t have done that.”

Pang. Your face flinched before your jaw tensed.

“Right,” your voice was smaller than you had wanted it to be, and the tears were even closer to spilling now. Of course he regretted it. Regretted kissing you, regretted making you feel the way you had. Because why would it be any different? Perhaps you should have tried to hook up with Mingyu tonight just to feel something different than this ache inside of you.

“I just- fuck, I just don’t want to take advantage of you. Of what you feel for me.”

Now, the tears of hurt were quickly changing to tears of anger. This man really had a talent in making you switch emotions in seconds.

“Excuse me? You- what?” You laughed bitterly, shaking your head, “don’t do this. Don’t make yourself look like a hero because you stepped back from kissing me. You did that because you wanted to. I didn’t come onto you even once in all the time you’ve been living here. So don’t you dare pin this on me or my feelings.” You hated that you began to shake and that your voice was higher than anticipated. You hated that the way he looked at you made you feel small and idiotic, made you feel as if you were the dumbest person on this earth. Instead of waiting for his response, you turned around on your heel, walking into your room and slamming the door shut behind you.

No one wanted to be in Seokmin’s shoes right now. After your fight he had also retreated back to his room, not exactly sure how to ever face you again. A day later he was at lunch with Mingyu, Cheol and Joshua and they all looked at him like he had suddenly grown three heads.

“I can’t believe you said that,” Joshua judged, shaking his head. Seokmin sighed, throwing his napkin on the table.

“Come on, was it really that bad?”

“Yes,” all three of his friends said in union, all their eyes on him, no sign of humor. Seokmin swallowed.

“I really thought I was doing the right thing,” he mumbled now, letting his head fall, eyes studying the pattern of the wooden table.

“By doing what? Pushing away a girl that’s absolutely crazy about you? That has been nothing but kind and wonderful towards you? That you very obviously have feelings for?” Mingyu snorted, crossing his arms, “no, that most certainly wasn’t the right thing to do, Seokmin.”

While Seokmin stayed silent, Seungcheol and Joshua nodded, telling Seokmin, once again, that he was an idiot. It was no use, though. He already knew he was! He knew he had messed up and even though a part of him still thought that, maybe, his intention had been noble, the part was slowly but surely getting kicked out.

“And what do you expect me to do? I can’t just go up to her and tell her that I was wrong for saying that. She doesn’t even talk to me!”

“Can’t really blame her, can you?” Seungcheol took a sip from his iced tea.

“Look, it’s only been a day. Let her calm down, give her space. Give yourself some more time to come up with the right thing to say. I’m sure it will be fine, you and Y/N will be fine.”

And as much as Seokmin appreciated the tough love followed by Joshua’s words of affirmation, he wasn’t sure it was really helping him. In fact, he wasn’t sure what could help him considering you started ignoring him from then on, even avoiding your shared space to either stay at Seungkwan’s place or just come home once Seokmin was already in bed. Every class you had together, you would sit right by one of the doors, arriving at the latest and leaving as soon as possible. Whilst Seokmin was trying his hardest to come up with a way to apologize to you, to win you back, you were trying your best to forget about your feelings for him. And for the most part it was even successful - you being mad at him and feeling like an idiot whenever you thought about the kiss you two had shared. But then again, only for the most part.

“You can’t just force yourself out of love with someone,” Seungkwan said on the nth night you’ve been sitting on his couch, a bucket of ice cream in your arms, the AC on the highest setting because, holy hell, was it hot outside.

“I can try,” you shrugged, staring at the TV screen. Seungkwan sighed, letting his eyes wander over your frame. You didn’t look your best, the hurt definitely coming through with bags under your eyes, your hair looking frizzy, the shirt you were wearing a stain right in the middle and when he had asked you about it, you couldn’t even tell him where that had come from.

So, when he got a call from Kim Mingyu two days later, he was eager as ever to meet up and hopefully get you off his couch.

The setting was in a small coffee shop, Seokmin seated nervously next to Mingyu who had ordered an iced americano for each of them. Seungkwan looked from one handsome guy to the other, clearing his throat.

“So, I’m guessing this is about Y/N?” he raised a brow and Mingyu quickly nodded, while Seokmin shifted on his seat, hands clasped around his plastic cup.

“Yup. Do you have any idea what Seok over here can do to, you know, get her to speak to him again?” Mingyu pointed at Seokmin with his thumb and Seungkwan chuckled as he watched Seokmin slap the thumb away, his cheeks a bright red.

“I’m sorry, I would’ve never come to you about this, but I’m desperate at this point. She is never home and when she is, she makes it her mission to not even acknowledge my existence.”

“Yeah, when she’s not home she is at my place. And let me tell you, it’s getting incredibly annoying, considering I have a “not-boyfriend” that I’d really like to invite over,” clicking his tongue, Seungkwan leaned back and grabbed his own beverage, taking a sip from the bright blue straw, “so, I am more than happy to help.”

For a few minutes they brainstormed, Mingyu suggesting that maybe Seokmin should just ambush her, maybe get a pair of handcuffs and- yeah, he was shut down by both Seokmin and Seungkwan rather quickly. Seokmin said that maybe he should just continue texting her and that perhaps she’d come around, but Seungkwan shook his head, telling him there was no use, he had never met anyone worse at texting and reading texts than his best friend.

After a moment of silence in which they all seemed a bit defeated, Seungkwan watched Mingyu take out his phone and open a message he had received on instagram. The only blonde at the table had never been quicker to sit up and almost knock over his drink.

“I know what you have to do.”

It had been two weeks since you had last talked to Seokmin and for once you were inside your apartment, knowing that he was at class while yours had been canceled. It was nice to be back home during day time for a change, your feet propped up on the small coffee table in front of the sofa. A book in your lap that you had discarded for a bit to check your phone, only to be hit in the face by a cruel, cruel reality. The book slipped off your lap as you withdrew your legs from the table and instead kneeled on the couch, both hands gripping your phone tightly.

“He has got to be joking,” you mumbled, feeling dizzy as you stared at the mirror pic Seokmin had posted half an hour ago. He hadn’t posted in months. Basically since he and Hyerin had broken up. His insta was mainly blank except for a few pictures he had taken of pretty sceneries. Never had he ever posted gym selfies. No. That had been Mingyu, showing off Seokmin’s body in his pictures as well as his own.

To be fair, there wasn’t much body to see on the selfie. It was him in the gym, his long sleeved shirt rolled up above his elbows, showing enough arm to make you head feel crazy. His left hand was holding his phone, his fingers spread over it and, fuck, his hand. His hair was just slightly messy, his jaw and neck on full display and you forgot how to breathe. Arousal pooled in between your legs now and you honestly couldn’t even understand why. Perhaps, you thought, because this was the first time you had seen his face in almost two weeks and this picture just fed into all of your small kinks about him. Swallowing hard, you licked your lips and continued to bury your teeth into the bottom one, your pussy already throbbing. How pathetic. Little did you know you were about to become even more pathetic. Only now did your eyes spot the small symbol on the right side of the post, signaling you that there wasn’t just one picture. With a throat as dry as the desert, you clicked back on the post, a shaking index finger swiping to the left, only to be met by what could only be described as worse. There you had the body you had so desperately wished for. Leaned back on what you assumed to be a bench press, his legs adjourned in baggy jeans you had seen him wear a handful of times. Back then you had been happy to not see them on him this much because for whatever reason he was even more sexy in them. They weren’t even tight (as baggy jeans already suggested), but they still seemed to fit him perfectly. And now, with him manspreading over a bench in the gym, the red-white shirt with a car race theme, sleeves still rolled up, one arm hanging over his right thigh, holding onto the black leather beneath him, showing off a pretty vein you could literally already feel underneath your tongue. He was crazy. Crazy and mean and horrible and you knew all of this on purpose. His fingers on display, his thighs looking so big in those god forsaken jeans. Hair messy, jawline looking so sharp you were sure it could cut glass.

And as if all of this wasn’t bad enough, you suddenly heard the door clicking open. Your head jerked up, your eyes wide and your cheeks flushed burgundy. When you saw Seokmin walk through the door and finally into the living room, you felt your phone slip from your hand and onto the couch. He was carrying a gym bag, his hair still slightly damp. His skin was glowing and his eyes were widened in surprise. He most definitely hadn’t expected to see you.

“I thought you had class?” He said, his gym bag dropping onto the floor next to him. You slowly got up from the couch.

“Got canceled. Yours?”

“Same.”

Nodding, you came to a stop in front of him, his tall figure towering over you, your chest heaving, head clouded by the smell of his cologne, of the knowledge he had posted that picture most definitely to get to you. With a heartbeat the speed of light, you looked into his eyes.

“Did Seungkwan tell you to post those pictures?” you whispered. Seokmin hesitated. Then he nodded.

“Did it work?” he asked, head slightly tilted to the side.

Instead of answering, your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him down to crash your lips against his. Seokmin immediately reacted, hands on the small of your back, pushing you closer. This kiss was different from the first, not less exciting or dizzying, but you felt more in control, felt more like this was it, this was what you had craved for so long.

Seokmin, meanwhile, was on cloud nine, your lips feeling so incredible on his. For him this was all he had wanted for the last weeks and while he had gotten that small taste back then, nothing could have prepared him for what he was feeling right now. All sense of self control left his body as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding over your bottom lip, asking to be let in. Once your tongues touched, there was no way in hell this was going to end. You moaned into his mouth, your nails digging into his skin while he moved his hands down, wrapping around your thighs to lift you up. Instinctively your legs swung around him, his hands leaving burns where he touched you.

He moved over to the couch where you had sat before, sitting down with you now straddling him, both of your hands roaming around the other’s body. You let your fingers slide under his shirt and together you took it off, lips parting momentarily and letting you admire his toned chest, his abs and shoulders. You took your sweet time, fingers caressing his skin while your lips latched onto his neck, sucking harshly. Seokmin moaned, one hand on the back of your head, while the other laid on your thigh.

With every passing second you felt yourself grow wetter, your hips beginning to grind down, both of your clothed crotches meeting, making both of you even more desperate. Seokmin grabbed your face, kissing you passionately once more, thumbs on either side of your cheeks. You whimpered when you felt him buck up, his erection already making your head spin. Never had you ever wanted anyone as bad. Finally, his hands moved to take off your shirt, leaving you in shorts and nothing else. A groan escaped him, hands all over your breasts, lips sucking your hard nipple inside his mouth, your head falling back, hands digging into his scalp. He was devouring your tits one at a time, hands squeezing them harshly as you couldn’t help but move your hips against him.

“S-Seokmin, please,” you whined, the arousal literally audible. Hearing you say his name like this… Seokmin parted from your chest and instead looked up at you.

“Seungkwan told me something,” he whispered, one hand now moving down, while the other was back on your face, “he told me you take a… certain liking to my fingers.” The smirk on his face made you forget to kill Seungkwan later. You licked over your lips, biting down on it after, only to let out a small gasp when his right hand slipped into your shorts, pressing down on the wet spot between your legs. He sucked in a breath.

“Fuck, arren’t you wet for me, angel?” He whispered, while his other hand moved to your lips now, his eyebrows shooting up as he held eye contact. You knew what he wanted and you were more than eager to oblige. Parting your lips and stretching out your tongue, Seokmin felt himself twitch as he laid his index and middle finger on top of your tongue.

“Suck,” he then ordered you and without thinking twice, you did as asked. The fingers were long and thin and perfect and your eyes rolled back when you felt him press down on your tongue, his eyes becoming a little crazier with every passing second.

“Both your holes stuffed with my fingers, what do you think?” his voice made goosebumps erupt all over your body, moaning around his digits while nodding wildly. Seokmin chuckled, not saying anything as he shoved your panties to the side, your hips almost automatically lifting so he could coat himself in your juice, his cock growing harder with every inch of him that got blessed with your arousal.

“Think you can take two already?” when you nodded again, he immediately let his pretty fingers sink into you, both of you moaning at the contact. He sank in as deep as he could, until every bit was inside of you, knuckles deep, making him feel like he was either going to cum in his pants or simply explode.

“God, you feel so fucking good, angel. Common, fuck yourself on my fingers and don’t forget to suck.”

Your body began moving right away. Your mouth was sucking his fingers as if they were his cock, tongue pressing, tongue flicking against them. Head bobbing back and forth as your hips moved up and down on his other hand, his fingers feeling heavenly inside your walls. And when he put his thumb on your clit, you were sure the heavenly feeling would soon get you to cum all over him.

“Good girl, doing so well for me, fuck,” Seokmin felt his throat dry up, sweat forming on the top of his head. How badly he wanted to fuck you right now, just get his fingers out and replace them with his throbbing cock - but he wanted to take his time with you. He wanted to see you live out your dream with his fingers buried inside of you, with your saliva coating his one hand and your perfect, sweet arousal the other. He wanted to see you come undone like this, fucking yourself on his fingers, before he took you the way he wanted, making you scream his name and beg him to make you cum with his cock.

You felt your orgasm closing in on you, your movements becoming sloppier, eyes rolled back and the fingers in your mouth almost forgotten. Once Seokmin noticed, he grinned, beginning to fuck them inside your mouth himself, a high pitched moan escaping you and making another bit of precum shoot out of Seokmin’s cock.

“Yeah, are you close, baby? Come on, I know you want to cum for me.” He leaned forward, the angle of his fingers changing slightly, hitting you right where you needed him and when his lips began kissing and licking at your neck, you couldn’t help but cum hard, your pussy clenching around his fingers over and over again, milking yourself for all you had.

“Fuck,” he was in a daze, pulling both sets of fingers outside your holes, eyes searching for yours, before closing his lips around the fingers that had just made you cum so beautifully. You whimpered, pussy throbbing at the sight of him licking your arousal from his own digits.

“Seokmin…,” you cried out and he pulled his fingers back, instead shooting forward now to kiss you again. You could taste yourself on his lips, hands now back around his neck, eyes closed shut as he kissed you with delicious desperation.

“Fuck me on the windowsill, Seok, please.”

He parted from you only for a second, before nodding and kissing you again, getting up with your legs wrapped around him, finally placing you on the narrow sill, hands gripping your shorts and panties and pulling them off your legs. You watched as he opened his own jeans next, letting them fall to the floor before finally revealing what you had only imagined so far. You couldn’t help but stare, your mouth watering at the sight of his big cock, all red at the tip and veiny, thick and a little bent to the left. Oh, how much you wanted him to ruin you.

“I can’t wait to fuck you, baby,” he purred now, arms back around your body, lips closing around yours again. Every inch of you was on fire, your hands immediately finding his cock, one grabbing his balls, while the other was around his girth, moving up to let your thumb slide over his slit. He twitched in your hand, a beautiful moan coming out his mouth that had you shivering. Spreading your legs further, you brought his leaking cock to your lips, letting the tip circle your clit for a bit, both of you moaning into the other's mouth, before finally lining him up with your sopping core.

“Please, fuck me, I need you so bad,” your voice was muffled against his lips and he nodded, replacing your hand with his to push inside you, the stretch having your nails dig into his shoulders, whimpers escaping your pink lips as he lowered himself into you until he bottomed out, his forehead now pressing against yours.

“You feel so good, so perfect around me, baby,” he kissed you softly, hands sliding over your sides up to your tits, and once he began squeezing them again, his lips finding yours, he began thrusting, first deep and hard, before he quickened, your legs pulling him even closer. He was perfect. The way he held you, the way his thumb was on your nipple, lips now sucking on the sensitive skin on your neck, cock fucking you deep and hard and quick, leaving no room for complaints. You didn’t know how to ever stop moaning his name, how to be quiet, how to not have your body already signal another climax.

“A-am close,” you whined and Seokmin nodded, head now in between your neck and shoulder, kissing every inch of your skin. Nothing had ever felt this good, no sex with anyone had ever made him feel as if he was going to cum within seconds, while also wanting it to never end. He sped up once more, hands back on your face as he wanted to cum with your tongue inside his mouth, with your lips claimed as his. You tried to match his pace, desperate and breathy moans filling the air that already smelled like nothing but sex. There was nothing you could do to prevent the orgasm rushing over you, your walls clenching around his cock over and over again, his movements getting sloppier with every second, your and his salivas mixing, running over both your chins when he finally sucked your tongue into his mouth as he came, hot white cum spreading in your pussy that now milked him for all he had, every little drop as precious as the other.

“Fuck, oh my god,” Seokmin breathed into your mouth, his hands caressing your hair as he kissed your neck, both of you slowly getting down from your highs. You two stayed like this for a while. Him, kissing your neck, your shoulders, your chin and finally your lips. It suddenly feels like everything has fallen into place perfectly, like this is what should have happened the first time he ever stepped into place, maybe even when you first laid eyes on him three years ago. He stays inside you, your combined releases only slowly dripping out of you. How could he make you feel this precious? This fragile in the best way?

“Y/N…”, he then whispers after a while, his hands next to you on the sill, his eyes so soft and yet full of guilt. For a second you think he regrets having done this but then you hear his next words.

“I’m so sorry I pushed you away. I never should have done that. I was scared of my own feelings and of taking advantage of you, and I get now that I should have just talked to you about this instead of acting like I was protecting you when in reality I was just protecting myself,” he caressed your face, a stray lock of hair finds it’s way behind your ear by his finger.

“I get it. And I’m sorry too, for, you know, completely shutting you out.” You smile weakly and Seokmin chuckles, kissing your cheek again.

“I would have done the same. So, you forgive me?”

“Isn’t you coming inside me enough reason to believe I have?” You tease him with a slight grin and he turns red, looking down at him still buried inside your warmth.

“Thank you. For forgiving me,” he looks up at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes, “and also for letting me cum inside you.”

You start laughing, pushing him away slightly by the shoulder and your heart seems to jump out of your chest when he kisses you again. You were sure that you’ll never get tired of doing this.

“So, if i want you to get turned on I’ll just need to post more gym pics?” Seokmin’s arm was around you, both of you freshly out of the shower seated on the couch. You scoffed, but felt your cheeks heat up.

“Shut up,” you couldn’t help but smile though, the fact he was so close to you, holding you. It was all too much but in the best way possible. You never wanted to let this man go again.

“You’re so cute when you’re flustered”, he giggled now, and god, had you ever heard a more adorable sound? You doubted it. Just when you were about to respond (mainly to tell him to shut up again), you heard your phone ring. Looking over Seokmin’s lap, you saw your phone where you’d left it. He followed your gaze and grabbed your phone for you, a knowing smile on his lips.

“If we were to unlock this now, what would we find, hm?”

Ignoring him, you finally picked up. It was Seungkwan.

“Hi traitor,” you said, eyebrows raised. Seungkwan scoffed on the other side.

“Oh please, you can’t tell me y’all didn’t fuck.”

Seokmin, who was very obnoxiously leaning in closer to hear the conversation, giggled again, his cheeks turning rosy. You rolled your eyes.

“Doesn’t mean I appreciate you spilling my kinks to people you barely know.”

“You know you do kind of love me for it though. So, you two together now?” You froze in place, while your eyes moved very slowly to look at Seokmin. What you saw made your stomach turn and twist and tumble and millions of butterflies suddenly started dancing Gangnam Style. His eyes were so fond, his features soft, the rose on his cheeks now accented by his bright perfect smile. When he nodded, his hand coming to caress your head, you couldn’t help but smile the brightest you ever had.

“As a matter of fact, yes. Yes, we are.”

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 16 days

Text

the girl next door 16

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

You sit in another hard plastic chair, this time in an office. You can still hear the chaos of the hospital wing out the walls, a constant reminder of why you’re there. You sit with your elbow on the armrest, your chin in your hand as you bite your fingertips.

The nurse, or nurse practitioner, you don’t know the difference, sits across from you, making notes about your last response. Her questions are pointless. She’s asking about your day, well, it’s obvious that’s not going well. And your hobbies. What do those matter? You don’t do anything so you don’t have an answer for that.

She smiles across at you as she clears her throat. The sort of smile dripping in pity. You get it a lot from the old ladies at the grocery store when they see you helping your mother.

“Have you ever had a period where you felt down? Not just for a week or two but, in fact, for many weeks and, perhaps, months?” She asks.

You don’t answer right away. You push your shoulder up and sit back, dropping your hand to your lap. You frown and look at the ceiling.

“Hm, I guess. Sometimes... yeah.”

All the time.

“Along with that, did you find you had no energy, had no interest in things, and overall had great difficulty functioning?”

Functioning? In what way? Going outside? Smiling? Feeling anything but heavy dread? Not crying until your eyes are raw? Having friends?

“Sure, but uh, I take care of my mom. I don’t have time... sometimes...I get tired.”

"Right,” she scribbles noisily with her pen, “Has this ever happened to you before?”

“Has what happened?” You make yourself look at her.

“These bouts of sadness?”

“My mom is sick. It makes me sad.”

“What about today? You said that you... lost track of time.”

“I’m... my mom... I didn’t sleep well... I don’t know.”

She hums and nods. She pauses as she reads over her folder and puts the pen down. She crosses her arms over the desk.

“It’s normal for caretakers to suffer from depression. You’re taking on a lot so there’s no need to be ashamed. You did so well being so honest today. Really. It makes it easier for us to help you,” she smiles again. What about any of this is happy? “I’m going to write you a prescription. Just a few doses for now, okay? To help you through. And we’ll schedule a follow-up with a psychiatrist.”

“A psychiatrist?” You utter, your eyes hot with tear. “I’m not crazy.”

“That’s not... crazy, we don’t speak like that. And you’re not. You’re hurting and you need relief. That’s all,” she explains, “so, the pills I’m going to send you off with. I want you to be very careful, okay? No alcohol. They’re going to make you drowsy so no driving either.”

“But... my mom doesn’t drive. She can’t.”

“It’s just for a few days. You might want to consider looking into some of the local services. You can find a home nurse to come help out if you qualify,” she gets up and goes to a cabinet against the wall, “I have some pamphlets. You can take them with you and I’ll have someone find you with some samples of the pills. That way, you don’t need to pay, alright?”

Your lips trembles and you bite it to keep it still. You nod and stand as you flick the wetness from your eyes, “can I go?”

“Sure, I’m sure your mom will be ready to see you soon,” she approaches you with a handful of glossy leaflets. “I’ll walk you out.”

You take the pamphlets and she follows you to the door. You step into the hall as she stays close, “Mr. Rogers,” she calls over your shoulder as Steve sits in the hall waiting, “she’s all good. Got her sorted.”

“Great, uh, well, good news,” he stands, rubbing his lowers back, “your mom’s awake.” He announces, “can finally get off this stiff chair.”

“See, that’s wonderful,” the nurse nudges your arm, “I’ll have the medications brought to her room. Have a good day, hon.”

You clutch the pamphlets and stare at Steve’s chest. He points you down the hall and walks beside you.

“Everything go okay? What was that she said about medication?”

“Pills.”

“Pills? For what?” He prompts as he leads you along the hallway.

“Depression.”

“Oh.”

You look down, “guess I might be. I don’t know.”

“You work really hard, sweetie. You’re not invincible,” he comforts and rubs your back. You wince at his unexpected touch, “all this stress...” he trails off and reaches for the pamphlets in your hands. You let him take one, “what’s this?”

He reads as he walks, unbothered by the nurses rushing by and the cleaners in their grey scrubs.

“Home nurse? Hm, that might be a good option,” he clucks, “or maybe... I wouldn’t mind helping out, you know? I know it’s early days but I think we’ve gotten really close.” He folds up the paper and hands it back, “me and your mom... us too, I think.”

You shrug and drag your soles on the floor. He reads the door number as you reach your mom’s room and he waves you in ahead of him. You keep your head down as you go past the curtain as he directs you from behind. You stand at the foot of the bed, too afraid to look up.

“I’m starving,” your mother snarls. She sounds like herself, just tired.

You peek up and your eyes round. She scowls at you as she lays tangled in tubes. You quiver in relief. She’s alive and she seems mostly okay.

“What’re you staring at?” She sneers, “I know I look like death. I feel like it too.”

“Holly,” Steve steps forward, “thank god.” He comes to her side, “we were so worried.”

“Heh,” she snorts.

“Really, when I found you...” he tries to block you out as he lowers his voice, “you never told me you weren’t supposed to drink.”

“Never bothered me much before,” she dismisses, “figured it was just a precaution.”

“Excuse me,” a voice comes from the doorway and you look over at a young man in blue scrubs. He says your name, “I have some samples for you.”

You turn and wave meekly, confirming your identity. He enters and hands you several boxes secured together with a thick elastic.

“Directives on the side,” he points to the folded paper also looped under the rubber band.

“Thanks,” you say and he leaves you just as quickly.

Your turn back to your mom as her eyes center on you. She looks horrible. Sickly. Worse than you’ve ever seen her.

“What’s all that then?” She scoffs.

You try to hide the boxes under your arm and shake your head.

“Typical. She’s gotta get her share of attention.”

“Holly,” Steve girds, disappointment harshening his tone, “she was sick with worry over you. The nurse gave her those to calm down.” He grips the bedrail until his knuckles pale, “she has depression, you know? All the stress--”

“Stress?” Your mom rolls her eyes, “I didn’t realise she was the sick one. She’s not depressed, she’s lazy.”

Silence. Stifling, suffocating silence. You lower your chin, “it’s... I probably won’t take any of it. I was just... in shock. I’m sure I’m fine.”

“But the nurse said--” Steve begins, “you’re going to at least try it. You never know, it could help. And if it doesn’t, it doesn’t.”

“Oh, don’t baby her. She’s grown,” your mom’s too out of it to filter her spite. You see the disgust in Steve’s expression as he looks at her.

“Holly, please, she’s your daughter.”

“I know who she is,” she snarls, “why are you taking her side anyway? She doesn’t need pills. It’s just another excuse.”

He closes his eyes and takes a breath, “I’m gonna chalk this up to whatever they’re pumping you full of. Holly, you’re not thinking straight. I know you would say all that to her.”

“Stop defending her. She’s not as innocent as she pretends.”

He shakes his head and glances over at you, “look, you just woke up, you’re out of it. I get it. Let’s just all calm down.”

“She’s a sniveling little brat,” she barks as she leans back. “This is all her fault. She knew I wasn’t supposed to drink. She didn’t stop me.”

Steve blanches and his eyes cling to you. You see the chagrin lined in his forehead. You look away in shame. You never wanted a witness to your mother’s wrath. That’s worse than facing her alone. It’s humiliating.

#series #au #marvel #mcu #drabble #captain america #the girl next door #steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader

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hopelesslyromanticshark · 3 months

Text

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ My Grease-Covered Hero

content: leo valdez x daughter of posiedon! reader fic warnings: language and fast pace fr author's note: this is me core at its finest. this is me as a person. wouldn't be caught dead in sweatpants unless i am flying or dying. and i have nothing against people in sweatpants, in fact i am a bit jealous. but some people just never get over winning best dressed as a senior superlative (its me, i'm some people)

can i get a kiss? and can you make it last forever? i said I'm 'bout to go to war (uh-huh) and I don't know if i'ma see you again can I get a kiss? (can I?)

leo was woken up by his phone buzzing and ringing out the chorus of ‘see you again’ by tyler, the creator. only one person in his phone had a specialized ringtone, which is why his hands were blindly searching through his sheets to find the little metal box. finally, his fingers managed to grasp the phone and he pulled it up to his ear, yawning against the back of his hand as he slowly sat up in bed.

“hey, mamacita,” he spoke, clearing his throat to lose the morning voice even though he knew she loved it.

“leo, i’m sorry, i know you’ve got late mornings on thursdays but-” the girl heaved into the phone, getting cut off by stuttering breaths and the sniffling of her nose. leo was instantly awake, his brows furrowing at her state.

“y/n, you need to breathe, honey. it’s okay, no ones mad, just talk to me,” leo comforted, picturing tears rolling down her cheeks and her bloodshot eyes which felt like a knife to his heart. he often had to tell y/n that no one was upset with her, a normal assumption she had picked up from her mother and father, the temperamental sea god. he listened as y/n took a few deep breaths through the phone before trying again.

“my car is making a weird noise, i woke up late, the outfit i planned out last night looked so bad this morning that i’m in sweatpants. sweatpants, leo, sweatpants. i have like fifteen minutes to get to my class but i can’t stop crying in the parking lot and- and i hate sweatpants,” y/n moaned into the phone, a new wave of tears brimming her eyes. he could see her, curled up in the driver seat with the phone held in her shaky hands.

“okay, okay, i've got a plan. you go to class, i’ll come by at lunch, check out the car and bring you a change of clothes. how’s that sound, baby?” leo offered, knowing he had nothing going on today. he was enrolled in some fancy block schedule high school, which gave him thursdays off every week. which he was grateful for on a whole new level today, the sound of y/n’s relieved tears sounding like it was straight from the heavens.

“thank you, thank you, thank you,” y/n mused into the phone, over exaggerated kissing noises as well. leo laughed, shaking his curls out as he glanced out at the rising sun.

“yeah, yeah. i’ll text when i’m there, okay? enjoy your class, love you,” leo mused into the phone, smiling wider at her laughs.

“okay, hammer head, i’ll see you later. i love you more,” she laughed into the phone, promptly ending the call before leo had time to argue.

he rolled his eyes at her, shooting off a text claiming he loved her most before crawling out of bed. he got dressed quickly, grabbing his tool bag and keys as he left, informing his foster parents of his plans as he scampered out of the door. he pulled up outside of the jackson-blofis household, producing a key that sally had insisted leo take, sick of the climbing through the windows from both him and annabeth. he opened the door, walking in and being met by a surpirsed paul, who held a sandwich in one hand and a baby bottle in the other.

“…hey, leo,” paul prompted, nervously glancing about.

“oh, hey, sir, i’ve just come to get some clothes for y/n. she’s having a rough day,” leo explained, rocking on the balls of his feet. he’s met y/n’s biological father and been less nervous around him. and he's a god that could smite leo for sneezing wrong.

“that would explain the stomping around this morning. poor girl,” replied paul before waving leo off to y/n’s room as estella whined and made grabby hands towards the man.

leo waved to the little girl as he easily made this way through the apartment, swinging y/n’s door open. he walked in, shaking his head at the pile of clothes on her bed, surely from the morning. she usually kept her room painfully organized, which leo had a habit of messing up, not that she cared much. leo dug through the pile for a moment before pulling her pair of flare leggings out, remembering she told him once they went with everything. he grabbed one of her tops, a low neck dark red one that he loved. finally, he made the impromptu decision to grab her makeup bag, knowing she’d want to at least fix her mascara. he shoved it all into a tote bag and began to make his way out of the apartment.

“thanks, sir, i’m off,” leo called and paul called with similar wishes of safe travels.

leo, knowing he still had some time, made a sneaky stop for iced coffee for her before making his way to her college campus. she had texted him her lot and spot earlier. plus, it was a cobalt blue vw beetle, kinda hard to miss. he pulled up next to it, scrolling through his phone to pass the time until he heard her voice approaching.

“oh, don’t even worry about it, katie! i don’t even use my physical copy anymore, the online version is just easier for me,” y/n’s voice mused and leo couldn’t stop the smile that took over his lips as he leapt out of his truck, approaching her car with her tote bag and coffee in hand. she was, in fact, in a pair of sweatpants but leo still thought she was the most gorgeous girl he’d ever seen. and he’d seen the goddess of beauty (who took a striking resemblance to y/n when they’d met but he's sure that's unrelated.)

“there’s my sweet girl,” he spoke, y/n’s eyes instant darting from her classmate to leo, a large smile taking over her face.

“leo!! aww, you didn’t have to get me coffee,” the girl whined, though she quickly stole it from his hands and took a sip while leaning into his side. he rolled his eyes at her words with a smile.

“please, you love coffee more than you love me,” he huffed, winking jokingly over at her friend. leo briefly introduced himself and shook her hand, katie responding similarly but she was clearly shy.

“that could change if you can fix my car,” y/n sang jokingly, tossing him her car keys as she pulled the passenger door open, dropping her stuff off into the seat before reaching into the back and producing some book. leo had popped the hood already, looking around for problems and what not.

“here, katie. keep it for as long as you need. oh, and i already started highlighting before i got the online version, i think to chapter three,” stated y/n, setting the book into the girl’s hands. she looked up at y/n like she’d hung the stars in the sky.

“thank you, y/n, truely,” katie managed to get out, returning the bright smile y/n gave her.

“of course! if you wanna plan a study session for that book, just shoot me a text,” y/n replied, waving the girl off before turning to leo, who was deep inside her car's engine.

“hey, lee? you got my clothes?” she questioned, folding her arms on the car before resting her head against. leo glanced over at her with a smile, reaching into his tool belt for something which he managed to magically produce.

“yeah, i put it in your driver's seat. leggings and that red top,” leo huffed, pulling out a flashlight and somehow going even deeper into the car.

“the one you love?” she asked with a smirk and leo pretended not to hear her as his cheeks began to tint red. y/n laughed before walking away, to assumable change in his car, which had more space. a few minutes later, y/n came bounding up to him as he was no longer leaning into the car. she collided with his side, leo laughing as he wrapped his arm around her but kept his fingers away to avoid getting grease on her.

“better?” he asked and she nodded against his chest, causing the boy to press a kiss to her temple.

“good, because your tits look great,” leo joked with a wink, y/n laughing with a shake of her head.

“i’m not wearing a bra, leo,” she told him, glancing down to see what all the fuss was about.

“i think we should abolish bras then. let's start with yours, i'm your guy if you wanna burn 'em,” continued leo, getting more joy from hearing her little giggles.

“did you fix my car or not, repair boy?” y/n mocked, earning her a playful smack against her hip.

“you know i hate that nickname,” he huffed with a smile, knowing he only liked it out of her pretty lips but shaking his head at the girl, “and yes, i did fix it.”

“awww, my grease-covered hero,” y/n mused, taking his face into her hands, holding him a few inches away from her before pressing their lips together. leo leaned into her lips easily, enjoying the lip gloss that transferred to his lips and the way her hands felt against his cheeks. and even though he hated coffee, he thought it was becoming his new favorite as he could taste it on the girl’s lips.

“you got time to catch lunch?” leo asked as they pulled apart, opening his eyes to see the lovestruck look she was giving him.

“for you? always.”

#postcards from covey ౨ৎ #all my love ౨ৎ #pjo #heroes of olympus x reader #hoo #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez

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cariantha · 7 months

Text

Hunger Pains

Book: Open Heart, Post-Series

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Sawyer Brooks)

Rating: Explicit

Warning: 🔥NSFW, ⛔18+ Only, contains explicit sexual content

Category: Fluff, Smut, Halloween

Word count: 2.6K

Summary: Sawyer is in a bad mood. Ethan helps her calm down.

Prompts:

🫦From Anon: Can I get a fic with Ethan giving MC a love bite or hickey?

☀️From @peonierose: Ethan & Sawyer + “sunshine”

🍬From @jerzwriter: "Actually, I like candy corn!"

Events:

🎃For @choicesoctober event: Costume / Halloween / Vampire / Meme

🥰For @choicesprompts Flufftober 2023 event: I want to take care of you.

“Mr. Cox. An appropriate name for such a dick,” Sawyer thought to herself, blood boiling as she exited Room 513.

The patient being cared for inside could easily steal the title of “Biggest PITA” away from the infamous Nigel Platt. And only making matters worse, her consultation had been interrupted multiple times by a cocky intern eager to show off.

Once the door closed behind her, she spun on Dr. Perkins.

“How many times have we told you not to interrupt when your resident or attending is speaking with a patient? If you do that again, I’ll make sure you are written up.”

Sawyer strode to the nearby nurses’ station to update Mr. Cox’s chart. The obstinate intern followed.

“How am I supposed to learn anything around here if I’m not allowed to ask questions?” he argued.

“You start by shutting the hell up and listening. Had you done that in the first place, we wouldn’t be standing here having this conversation. If you were really trying to understand something back there, you would have directed your questions to me. Instead you attempted to conduct a medical history interview, on an extremely agitated patient, minutes before he goes to surgery,” she scolded.

“This is–”

Her patience wearing thin, Sawyer spoke over him. “Jaaackie, get Dr. Know-It-All away from me before I go all Ramsey on his ass,” she demanded through gritted teeth.

Jackie, having caught the tail end of the exchange, looked up from her tablet.

“I think you just did,” she answered, “...and Perkins, the patient in 506 needs a new catheter. Now.”

“But that’s not even my pati-” he started to complain.

With one harsh look from the Chief Resident, Dr. Perkins finally tucked his tail between his legs and sulked down the hall.

"You're breathing fire today," Jackie quipped as she rounded the desk to leave.

Sawyer ignored her and continued typing furiously on her tablet.

Down the hall, Jackie and Bryce traded places getting on and off the elevator.

“Hey, have you seen Brooks? I mean Ramsey. Brooks-Ramsey?” Bryce guessed, not sure what to call his friend since she and Ethan surprised everyone by eloping a couple weeks ago.

Jackie pointed in the direction of the nurses’ desk. “I hope you brought snacks. She’s in a mood again,” she warned as the steel doors closed between them.

A minute later, Bryce slunk next to Sawyer, bumping shoulders to get her attention.

“Finally. What took you so long?” Sawyer rebuked, shoving the tablet towards him. “Here, take this guy away. And while you have his head open, feel free to poke the part of his brain that disables his speech.”

“Well, aren’t you a pocketful of sunshine this morning,” he teased.

“After a few minutes with this asshole and you’ll understand why,” she said, storming off.

“Annnd, Dr. Ramsey it is,” he decided.

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

Shortly thereafter, Sawyer sat in the diagnostics office and stewed in silence as the team meeting ran over schedule. Her annoyance grew more intense with each passing minute as Ethan and Harper debated, and Tobias egged them on for his own amusement. No longer able to take it, she interrupted.

“Do you need me? Because, if not, I have patients who do.”

Her three colleagues snapped their heads in her direction, surprised by the bite in her tone. With raised eyebrows, she looked at the team leader and challenged him to respond.

Ethan cleared his throat. “Uh, let’s see how the labs come back and continue this discussion when we have more information.”

Harper and Tobias quickly got out of Dodge as Sawyer stacked her notes and gathered her things. When she stood to follow, Ethan reached for her hand and held her back.

“Hey, what’s wrong? What’s got you so wound up?”

She exhaled deeply, his touch instantly calming her.

“I’m sorry.” Frustrated tears welled in her witch-green eyes. “I'm super cranky. These third-trimester hormones are no joke. My mood the last few days has been…”

A single teardrop fell down her cheek.

“Come here,” he urged, pulling her into his lap. “It’s been, what?”

“It’s either been hangry or hornery or both,” she pouted and sagged her shoulders.

Cracking a smile at her dramatics, “I know what ‘hangry’ is, but 'hornery?'”

“Horny and ornery.”

With a shake of his head, Ethan caressed her swollen belly. “So, what I hear you saying is you’re irritable because you're either hungry or horny…”

“Right now, it’s both,” she interjected, her fingers seductively dancing up his chest.

“And the cure for this condition is to either feed you … or fuck you?”

“Look, I’m not saying food and sex would solve all my problems, but it would sure help me calm the hell down,” she admitted with a coquettish grin.

“Well, as much as I’d like to help you satisfy your hunger pains, all I can offer right now is this.”

Ethan reached for the bowl of Halloween candy on the conference table.

“Boo,” she scowled playfully. Sawyer stood and sifted through the options, “I’ll take the candy corn off your hands and leave the chocolates for you. I know they’re your favorite.”

“Actually, I like candy corn,” he said, ripping a small package open with his teeth and pouring them all into his mouth.

“Seriously?” she asked, surprised.

“My dad loves them. We always had a bowl out during the season. I used to push them up on my canines when I was a kid and pretend I was Dracula.”

“Aw, cute. Well, if that’s true, then I’ll take some of these too,” she reached back into the bowl and stuffed her pockets. “Supposedly, chocolate is a good substitute for sex. Feed two birds with one scone.”

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

A couple hours later, Sawyer was down at the lab demanding the results for one of her patients.

“What do you mean it’s going to be another four to six hours? I ordered these tests yesterday!”

Her raised voice began to draw the attention of others, including her indirect supervisor. Ethan was just finishing a consultation with the hospital’s lead hematologist, when he heard the uproar.

The lab assistant snapped back. “Look, lady, we’re doing the best we can. The tech will run the test as soon as he’s back from lunch.”

“Lady?! Do you see this badge? That’s Dr. Brooks to you.”

Sawyer spewed red hot anger as she spun on her heels. From several feet away, Ethan could practically feel the heat radiating from her. Her neck and cheeks were crimsoned and her fists clenched at her sides.

“That’s enough,” he admonished, taking Sawyer by the wrist and swiftly pulling her into a familiar and dark supply closet.

Ethan loomed over her as he backed her into a corner.

“I know… I’m sorry,” she apologized. Sad cat-like eyes pleading for forgiveness.

“This kind of stress isn’t good for you or the baby,” he advised. “This is serious, Sawyer. You leave me no choice but to help you calm down.” The corner of his mouth began to turn up in a sly grin, as he ran his hand over her hair.

“Oh, thank god,” she sighed, crashing into his lips.

“We’ll…have to be…quick…and quiet,” he murmured between desperate kisses.

As Sawyer slipped out of her shoes, Ethan lent a hand, sliding her pants and underwear to the ground. As she stepped out of them, Ethan unzipped his pants and pushed them down to expose his rising need. Their white lab coats provided a curtain of privacy in the event that anyone walked in on them.

Lifting her up around his waist, Sawyer tried to wrap her legs around him. With several extra inches around her midsection, she had a hard time locking her swollen ankles behind him and finding a comfortable position.

“Ethan, my belly. This isn’t working,” she squirmed under his hold.

Determined to make this work despite the cramped space, Sawyer slid down. She shrugged off her lab coat, turned her back to him, and placed her hands on the wall.

Ethan took the hint immediately. His hands began to roam under her shirt, starting at her sore back. His thumbs applied light pressure as he worked his way down the length of her spine, earning a few grateful groans. He also spent a few seconds massaging her ass, finishing with a gentle squeeze.

Closing the small gap between them, Ethan reached around and tenderly appreciated her baby bump. Then slithering his fingers into the cups of her bra, he ghosted around her sensitive nipples.

Sawyer felt his breath next to her ear and turned her head to meet him in a passionate kiss, his erection poking and teasing her backside.

Navigating in the dark, Ethan leaned back to align himself with her entrance. “God, Sawyer,” he gasped, easily gliding between her slick folds. “You are so ready for me.”

She looked over her shoulder with a smile and jokingly reminded him of her libidinous mood swings. “What’d I tell you? Me so horny.”

With an amused shake of his head, he pulled back gently, then began to pump his hips. Slow and soft at first.

“Mmmmm, that feels so good, babe,” Sawyer mewled.

Ethan picked up the pace. He pushed harder and deeper, but careful not to get too rough with his pregnant wife or her precious cargo.

“Ohhhh,” she let slip a little too loud.

“Shhhh, baby,” he breathed heavily, working up a sweat.

As her legs began to tremble, Sawyer kept her hands firmly braced against the wall for support.

“I’m close…cover…my mouth,” she panted.

With a hand on her hip to hold her close and steady, Ethan reached around with his other and gently covered her mouth. He leaned in and pressed his chest against her back, resting his chin in the crook of her neck. “Let go, beautiful,” he mumbled against the feel of her rapid pulse.

After a couple deep pumps, Sawyer’s whole body shuddered. She moaned her satisfaction into Ethan’s hand. The vibrations pulsing through her body, and the warm breath against his palm, provoked his own release. Clamping his mouth onto her neck, he muted himself.

The euphoria made her forget all her aches and pain. So, when Sawyer tightened her muscles around Ethan’s still bursting length, it hardly registered when he bit down hard on her throat.

To avoid getting caught, they didn't spend much time basking in the afterglow. Ethan gave his wife a loving kiss, and when he was certain she could stand unsupported, he pulled up his pants and helped Sawyer step into hers.

With a quick peek into the hallway, Sawyer checked to see if the coast was clear. “Hold on…it’s Wen,” she whispered, holding up a hand to halt him.

When Dr. Wen disappeared around a corner, they exited the supply closet.

“Do you think she heard us?”

“If she did, I’m sure she assumed it was only one of the ghosts that she believes haunts these halls,” Ethan chuckled. “The more important question is, are you feeling better?”

“Much better, thank you.”

“Well, let’s make doubly sure and head up to the cafeteria for some lunch.”

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

Later that night, at home and in the shower, Ethan pushed wet hair away from Sawyer's neck and discovered the frightful bruising.

“Oh, Soe, I’m sorry,” he expressed, carefully skimming his fingers over the bite mark. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Sawyer touched the tender spot and moved around him to see her reflection in his shaving mirror.

“Oh my gosh!” she laughed as she traced her fingers over the imprints of his teeth. “I married a freakin’ vampire!”

“I’m sorry. But, hey,” he innocently smiled back in the mirror, “...only a vampire can love you forever.”

He wrapped his arms around her and buried his face into her neck. “Mwahahaha,” he snarled at her ear, before placing a delicate, healing kiss to the love bite.

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

The next day, the newlyweds arrived at work hand in hand and walked toward the attendings’ locker room. Pausing just outside the door, Sawyer turned to face her husband.

“Hey, just a reminder I volunteered to help in the clinic this morning. Carrick said he would do rounds for me.”

“I remembered,” Ethan said, bending down to give Sawyer a quick but loving kiss on the lips. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. I’ll see you later,” she returned, reluctantly letting go of his hand.

Stepping into the locker room, she spotted a familiar face. Well, sort of.

“Whoa, that looks soooo good, Elijah. Gross, but so realistic,” Sawyer awed.

“Thanks! Those of us in the research department agreed to dress up like lab experiments gone wrong.”

“Well, mission accomplished. And, Happy Halloween, by the way. I know it’s your favorite day of the year.”

As Elijah excitedly talked about his zombie character - which of course was inspired by a new John Carpenter video game - Sawyer tugged on her white coat and checked her reflection in the mirror.

The bruising on her neck was much more prominent the day after and under the harsh fluorescent lighting of the hospital. She tried to adjust her hair and fix the collar of her jacket, but it was no use. She dug through her bag searching for her makeup case, quickly realizing she left it at home.

“Shit,” she thought to herself.

“Aren’t you dressing up this year?”

Elijah’s question brought her back to the conversation, and an idea popped into her head.

“About that…do you have any more fake blood?”

“Yeah, there’s a tube in my locker. Help yourself,” he offered on his way out.

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

Down in the free clinic, Sawyer examined a very inquisitive eight-year old who noticed the bite mark and the two drips of dried blood on her neck.

“Say ‘ahhhh!’” she instructed, using a tongue depressor to check the back of his throat. “Good, no swelling back there.”

“Doctor! Did you get bit by a vampire?”

“I’m afraid I did,” she admitted, putting on a bit of an act.

“Was it Dracula?”

“That’s still up for debate,” she laughed to herself, picturing little boy Ethan with candy corn fangs.

“Did it hurt?”

“Uh-uh.”

“Did he suck your blood?”

“Justin, for goodness sake,” his mother chided and rolled her eyes.

“It’s fine,” Sawyer waved her off.

“Did he make you into a vampire too?”

“No,” turning her back to the young patient and facing his mother, she muttered, “...he just got me pregnant.” The patient’s mother cackled out loud.

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

That afternoon, Sawyer was on the fifth floor to check on a patient, when she spotted Ethan stepping into the hallway with Esme and her intern. When they were safely out of the patient’s earshot, he wheeled around on the intern and launched into a stern, and familiar, lecture.

“...It doesn’t matter that you’re still learning…Whether this man lives or dies is on you…There is no room for mistakes…”

When he was done with his tirade, Ethan marched over to the nurses’ station and began tapping away on an iPad.

“Don’t sweat him. He’s all bark and no bite. Isn’t that right, Dr. Brooks?” Esme asked as Sawyer approached the scene.

Mrs. Ramsey shook her head vehemently. “Oh, no,” she spoke loud enough for Ethan to hear, “he bites alright.” When he looked up with a raised eyebrow, she winked and kept walking.

A couple minutes later, Ethan’s phone pinged with a text notification.

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altruisticalastor · 3 months

Note

So, I saw your AlastorXWife!reader fic and loved it, did a bit of an AU where it goes in a little bit of a different direction. Feel free to have a tidy up or a rewrite and post it if you like - or dont, and you are the only person other than me that is gonna see it. I relinquish all the sin for writing this apon thee if you do though ;}

Personally I'd like to see the scene upstairs afterwards but I have never written smut before.

---

Lucifer was a rather charming man, but you were spoken for. So when he grasped your hand and placed a chaste kiss on the back of your palm, your hand yanked away in the blink of an eye. You could have sworn you heard a crackling growl escape your husband's lips as he watched Lucifer offer you a lustful gaze- and that was simply unacceptable.

"I see you've met my wife!" Alastor let out a forced chuckle as he looped his arm around your waist, pulling you close to his side. You let out a sigh of relief. All thanks to your husband's rescue. Lucifer gave Alastor a pointed look before he blurted out, "You're joking... right?" He scoffed.

Your face scrunched up in anger at Lucifer's rude remark. "Oh, he's as serious as a heart attack." You spat, snaking your own arm around Alastor's back. You squeezed his waist, a habit of yours that let your dear husband know when you were livid.

"But- look at you! You're gorgeous, sweetheart, and he's just... freaky." You were about to snap back before your husband's maniacal laughter tore through the room. "Ha Ha! That's rich coming from the short stack!" Alastor quipped, grip tensing around your waist. Lucifer's chest puffed up in defense before he let out an airy laugh.

"Aha! The height I lack up here, I surely make up for below the belt! Maybe I can show your wife sometime." Lucifer shot you a playful wink, causing your face to scrunch up in disgust. Alastor tensed beside you.

---

'well' you said, releasing Alastor and beginning circling behind hells overlord 'I thought you had seen my darling husband grow into a 20ft tall ravenous beast. Let's just say, things stay proportional in the bedroom. I am sure you've seen those tendrils of his too?' you place your hands on his shoulders and lean in almost conspiritorially. 'he can do far more with them than you've seen, incredible skill - one might even call it...heavenly.'

Lucifer let out an audible gulp as he seemed suddenly rooted to the spot. Seeing his confidence waver as he couldn't help but imagine the depravity you suggested, you quickly gave the back of his ear a sharp lick and turned to saunter up the stairs pausing briefly to address your husband.

'Al dearest, our schedules for this afternoon are both suddenly... very...full.' managing only a half turn before adding 'Thanks for the inspiration Luci baby' and delivering a suggestive wink at the demon, whos face was flushing deeply.

After a short pause Alastor chuckled, his usual bravado returned.

'well well' he said, eyeing the bulge in the front of Lucifers trousers. 'looks like we are all busy this afternoon. Enjoy your date with your right hand dear fellow. I do hope your imagination measures up.' Melting into the shadows with a resounding chuckle that could be heard long after he could no longer be seen.

After a very long and awkward silence with Lucifer seeming to have short circuited in place - Husk decided to be the one to break the tension, Slowly placing down the glass he was cleaning on the bar and clearing his throat

'So Angel, I've been wanting to try out this new place that opened up on the other side of the pentagram.'

Angel finally managed tear his eyes from the top of the stairs to respond.

'yea man, you uh, wanna go right now?' he stood 'Last time I was here when those two got busy I got super fuckin traumatised by the noise, and I do that kinda shit for a livin!'

I LOVE YOUR RENDITION SO MUCH!! definitely sassy and fun, thanks for sharing!! 🩷🩷

#it’s good to be back on the air ♡

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magnus-falafelking · 3 months

Text

OOC (fierrochase high school au fic im starting)

FIERROCHASE BAND AU

Chapter 1

Blue Jolly Ranchers Rock

“Come on, Magnus, it won’t be that bad. It’s just a school.”

“I was homeschooled my whole life, Annabeth. This is bad.” I crossed my arms.

Annabeth Chase smiled serenely, “I promise you it’s not. You’ll make new friends and stuff.”

“I thought you were gonna introduce me to your friends,” I raised an eyebrow.

“I am,” Annabeth hesitated, “But you should make other friends as well.”

“Hmph,” Was all I said to this. What I really wanted to do was ask Annabeth if she was embarrassed by her weird cousin with chin-length unkempt blonde hair. Oh right, I reminded myself, that’s me. I looked up at the big bricked building. I definitely did not want to be here. After my mom, Natalie Chase died, I went to live with my cousin Annabeth, her father, and step-family.

I was thankful for them of course, but I always hated the pitied looks from my relatives.

My mom was dead and that was that. End of discussion. Don’t feel sorry. It’s fine.

“Come on, Mags, we gotta get to the front office to get your schedule and meet your guide,” Annabeth said, starting up the sidewalk to the front door.

Her words sent panic flowing through my system.

“Wait, what guide?” I asked, stopping my cousin by grabbing her arm.

Annabeth sighed and yanked away from me gently, “I forgot to tell you, I’m not gonna be showing you around the place. I can’t, I’ve got an algebra test first period!” Annabeth looked at me with, sorry Magnus, work always comes first because I'm such a nerd, but you’ll survive!! still sorry though! grey eyes. Grey eyes were pretty much a Chase family trademark. Mine were the same shade.

“It’s fine,” I muttered. And maybe it was. Maybe the guide would be totally cool. I’d be friends with them and I would have a not-so-horrible first day. Or maybe the guide would be a total jerk and I would have a miserable day.

It was a 50-50 chance.

Unfortunately, I had no choice but to take the chance.

Annabeth swung the door open and I saw an old lady secretary sitting behind a computer, typing away.

The lady smiled when she saw Annabeth, “Good morning, Ms. Chase,” she said to her.

“Morning, Mrs. Davidson!” Annabeth said and then whispered to me, “Get on her good side. She’s got a whole jar of blue jolly ranchers on her desk.”

“Uh,” I started my sentence in a very cool, impressive way, “Morning,” I said to the old lady.

“You must be Magnus Chase, our new student,” Mrs. Davidson glanced at me once before pulling open the desk drawer and pulling out a slip of paper—my schedule.

“Here you go,” she handed me the paper and peered at me over her glasses, “Welcome to Half Blood High.”

Chapter 2

Samirah Studies me Like I’m Her History Textbook

As a new student, I certainly did not get the fresh pick of classes for my sophomore year.

Biology, Algebra, Geography, English, PE, and Spanish

Boring, boring, boring, boring, boring, and boring.

And then for my elective, I got…art?

Art. Magnus Chase and art? I was sure the people who arranged this schedule were messing with me.

I would’ve much preferred choir or something. I liked to sing. And I was actually sort of good at it.

I didn’t have anything against art, I just kinda sucked at it.

I guessed I’d have to get over the sucking if I wanted to pass.

My mother, however, was great at art. She’d paint me pictures every birthday, and hang them on my bedroom wall.

By the time I was 13, 13 painted pictures were hanging above my bed.

And now there were none. All the paintings were burned in the fire. Along with Natalie Chase.

I turned to Annabeth.

“Where my guide?” I asked.

“She should be- “

The office door swung open.

A girl with dark olive skin ran in. She wore a green hijab, jeans, a dark purple hoodie, and black sneakers. She wore an exhausted expression.

“Sorry I’m late,” the girl panted, and then her eyes met mine, “You must be Magnus,” She sighed.

“Uh, yeah,” I cleared my throat, “Hey.”

The girl looked at me like she was trying to figure me out.

Good luck! I wanted to tell her. I can’t figure me out myself!

“I’ll be your guide. My name’s Samirah,” she finally said, “But call me Sam.”

“Cool. You can uh, call me Magnus,” I stammered.

Sam laughed, which meant she thought I was funny, or an idiot.

The second option was probably the one.

“Well Magnus,” Sam glanced back up at me, “I guess I should start showing you around.”

After about an hour of a tour from Sam, I got a pretty good idea of the place.

“Any questions?” Sam asked when we returned to the main foyer.

How do I get out of this? But I didn’t actually say that. I asked my brain, which didn’t have an answer. What an unhelpful brain.

“No,” I cleared my throat, “Thanks for uh, showing me around.”

“No problem,” She said, “It’s about to be lunchtime so we should get to the cafeteria,” Sam started down the hall.

“Oh. Yeah, okay,” I followed behind Sam.

I wondered if I’d get to meet Annabeth’s friends. From what I had heard, they were kind of popular at school and were really nice.

I had already met her boyfriend, Percy Jackson, who was super cool and was on the swim team.

But there was also Jason, Leo, Frank, Hazel, Nico, and Will, who were mysteries to me.

I also wondered if they were too cool for me. Which was cringey, but just how I felt. I wondered what Annabeth had told them about me.

And ultimately, if I were to join the group, 9 was an odd number.

Woah. I was kinda jumping the gun.

I hadn’t even meant them yet and I was worrying about being a ninth wheel?

Calm down, Magnus, I told myself.

“Magnus?”

Someone else said my name.

It was Sam, who had stopped walking and turned to face me.

“You okay?” She asked.

“I’m- yeah im good.”

I wondered why she cared. Sam was nice, but she’d only just met me.

Sam considered me, her brown eyes interlocking with my grey ones.

Now, usually if I were to make such serious eye contact with a cute girl, I’d be a complete mess. But Sam looked at me with eyes that were narrow and accusing.

“I’m trying to figure you out, Magnus Chase. This whole time, you’ve barely said anything to me. Are you sure you’re fine?”

I hesitated but quickly nodded. I jumped as the loud bell rang.

A look of realization came over Sam’s face.

“Are you nervous?” She asked.

Embarrassment washed over me.

“Uh, I don’t know,” I said.

“Ok. So you’re nervous. I get it. First day can be hard. But Half Blood High is a relatively open minded and friendly place.”

“Relatively?”

“You just…have to look out for the right people is all,” Sam’s expression softened.

I could tell she was one of the right people.

“Thanks, Sam.”

“Now let’s go to lunch.”

“Annabeth!” I spotted her by her curly blonde hair.

She was walking into the cafeteria with Percy and pretty cocoa haired girl with light brown skin.

Annabeth glanced at me wore a tight smile and gave me a small wave.

I told Sam thanks and bye, and waked up to Annabeth.

“Is this Magnus?” The girl beside Annabeth asked.

Annabeth sighed, “Yep. Piper meet my cousin, Magnus Chase. Magnus, meet my best friend, Piper McLean.”

“Sup,” I said to Piper.

“Sup,” Piper smirked.

“Sup,” Percy added in, giving me a fist bump.

Annabeth rolled her eyes. She grabbed my arm and led me into the cafe, Percy and Piper following right behind.

Annabeth led me to a circle table in the middle of the cafe where 5 other students sat.

She pointed her finger at each of them and told me their names.

The dude Piper sat next to was Jason Grace. He was a tall guy with short, straight blonde hair and glasses. He had a small scar on his upper lip and greeted me with a small smile.

Next to Jason, sat Leo Valdez. He had light brown skin and dark but wide eyes that seemed to have a spark in them.

“Uh uh uh,” Leo interrupted Annabeth, “Not just Leo Valdez. I’m Leo Valdez bad boy supreme.”

Annabeth just sighed.

“If Calypso was here she’d agree!”

Next to Leo was Will Solace, who seemed like a ray of sunshine with his tousled curly blonde hair and cheeks littered with freckles. He smiled at me and waved.

Nico di Angelo leaned against Will’s shoulder. He looked at me with dark calculating eyes. The look wasn’t so much hatred, as it was how Sam looked at me a few minutes ago.

Speaking of Sam, I wondered where she sat. My eyes darted around and saw Sam sitting with a red haired girl, an African American guy, and a muscular guy. They were laughing, joking and smiling and having a good time. They seemed nice.

But I turned back to Annabeth’s friends.

“Okay well that’s everyone. Hazel and Frank aren’t here right now. They’re at a Save Our Strays meeting. Bye now,” Annabeth told me.

Bye?

“I thought I was-“

Annabeth gave him a warning look but with a bit of exasperation.

“Go sit with Sam,” she told me.

A rush of irritation flowed through me.

I went to sit with Sam.

“Oh! Hey there Magnus,” Sam was surprised as I set my lunch bag down.

“Can I sit here?” I asked her.

“Of course,” Sam pulled out the chair for me and then turned to her friends, “This is Magnus Chase.”

“The guy you were showing around? Aka the reason you were absent in calculus this morning and I couldn’t copy off of ya?” The girl with curly red hair asked Sam with a smirk.

“Yep,” Sam replied and then introduced me to all her friends.

The red haired smirking girl was Mallory Keen.

The muscular guy who seemed to be close with Mallory was Halfborn Gunderson. He held up an hand and waved at me.

The African American guy with short girly brown hair and light eyes was T.J.

As I sat down and said hi to them, I noticed an object sticking out of Mallory’s book bag. It looked like a…

“Mallory,” I started, my eyebrows raised, “What’s that?” I asked.

Mallory looked from me to the knife.

“Oops,” she stuffed the knife in a different pocket so that it was hidden, “Silly me.”

Silly me?

“What were you gonna uh, use that for?” I pressed.

“Just a precaution,” Mallory assured me, “Sometimes us girls have to take certain precautions,” And she ended the conversation with a one syllable laugh.

“There’s so many people transferring to Half Blood High,” T.J told me, “First you and now Sam’s…”

“Brother.” Sam finished after a bit of consideration.

I thought about that. Why would Sam attend Half Blood High but her brother is just now transferring?

Sam seemed to read my mind.

“He’s my half brother. He just got out of a…situation and moved here,” Sam shifted uncomfortably.

I nodded. I understood situations very well.

“Anyways,” Sam cleared her throat, “We’ll get to that tomorrow.”

“Where’s your schedule?” T.J then asked, “We should see if you have any classes with us.”

I dug in my somehow already unorganized book sack and pulled out my schedule.

“Cool! We’ve got calculus together!” Mallory pointed at his second period class and glanced at Sam, who was also in that class.

“Thank god,” I muttered.

I really didn’t want to go through 10th grade calculus alone.

“We’ve got PE,” Halfborn noticed.

With his muscles, I would’ve assumed Halfborn was on the football team or something like that. But he wasn’t and that’s fine. That just meant I wouldn’t endure physical torture alone either.

“And we’ve got history together along with Sam and Halfborn,” T.J smiled at me.

“Cool,” I nodded and picked up my schedule.

I ate my sandwich as I watched Mallory and Sam get into a deep conversation about alternative bands.

“You like twenty one pilots?” I asked when she mentioned them.

“Yeah. I also like Weezer and The Killers,” I told her, unscrewing the cap on my Gatorade bottle.

“Me too,” Sam smiled.

“Oh great. Now they’re going to geek out.,” Mallory sighed.

“Now,” Sam looked at me with a glint in her eyes, “Blue Album, Green Album, or Teal Album?”

“Oh, Blue Album all the-“

The bell rang.

We groaned.

“Well, I’ve gotta get to English. You better hurry, Magnus. The art room is upstairs,” Sam informed me.

So I rushed to my class.

Chapter 3

Nico Di Angelo is a Dam Good Artist

“Sorry…I’m…late,” Magnus said between tired breaths.

“It’s only your first day, Chase. I’ll let it slide,

The teacher, Mr Blitz, told him. He was a stout man with dark skin, long dreads and an interesting fashion sense.

I studied the room and I found an empty seat next to one of Annabeth’s friends, Nico di Angelo.

He looked at me with the same dark eyes he had given me at lunch.

I sat down next to him.

It was the only open seat.

“Today, class, you will be continuing the portrait project,” Mr Blitz told them, “For those of you who have just joined us, you will draw a portrait of someone special in your life. Now, get started and get creative!”

I grabbed a sheet of blank sketch paper from off the counter and started to sketch the shape of a head.

Though, I wasn’t sure whatever shape I drew sufficed as a head but it would have to do.

I glanced over at Nico, who was working on two portraits. One was visibly a girl, the other a boy. If there was anything Nico was, it was a dam good artist.

He seemed to have finish the boy before the girl, because I could tell who the boy was— Will Solace.

From their body language at lunch, I wondered if they were together.

“Are you judging my art?” A gritted voice spoke.

I looked up. Nico was glaring at me.

“I- well- um- you see-“ I spluttered.

“I’m kidding,” one side of Nico’s mouth upturned ever so slightly, “I like to joke.”

I couldn’t tell with the way Nico presented himself as dark and brooding. I guess all that “Don’t judge a book by its cover” crap pays off.

“Your portraits are good,” I told Nico, glancing back down at them.

“Thanks. I’m going to give this one to Will,” Nico said, gesturing to the finished product.

Nico had a slight Italian accent that was very prominent when he said his i’s, making “Will” sound like “weel”.

“Is- is Will your…” I left the words hanging, hoping Nico would finish for me. He did.

“My boyfriend,” He raised an eyebrow, “Yeah. He is”

Nico seemed the defensive with these words.

I, personally had no problems with information. Boy dates a boy, girl dates a girl. Whatever. It didn’t matter.

But from how uptight Nico seemed about the subject, I assumed he’d gotten judged in the past.

So I said, “That’s cool.”

Nico relaxed. “Yeah. It is.”

As time in the class ticked by, I was busy with my portrait. I decided to make it of my mom. Surprise, surprise.

Nico ended up helping me with the head since I guess I did it wrong or something.

At the end of class when the bell rang and Nico waved bye, I had to wonder, were me and Nico di Angelo now friends?

The rest of the day passed by relatively quick. I had biology, PE, and Spanish in the afternoon.

When the bell rang, I met Annabeth at her car.

I wasn’t that happy with her after lunch, but she was my only ride home.

I slid into the passenger seat and closed the door. Annabeth got in, turned the key, and pulled out of the parking lot.

…

“Are you mad at me?”

“No.”

“Sure, I believe that,” Annabeth’s tone was sarcastic.

“You should,” I told her.

“Is this about what happened at lunch?”

I shrugged.

“Magnus,” Annabeth turned to me when we pulled up at a stoplight, “I was just-“

“Are you embarrassed by me?” I had to ask.

“What? Mags, no. Of course not.”

“Then why'd you push me away from your friends? They're too good for me?”

“No!” Annabeth groaned, “You're taking this out of context. Magnus, I just want you to branch out. Have other friends rather than mine! Is that so bad.”

I shrugged.

“Would you stop that?” Annabeth said, “I'm trying to help you be independent, meanwhile you're stubborn.”

“I just thought you'd be by my side.”

“I'm not holding onto your leash or anything. I'm not your caretaker. For gods sake, I'm not your mom, Magnus!”

I don’t know why, but when Annabeth said this, something inside of me just snapped.

Not snap as in yell at her.

No. I just stayed silent, letting Annabeth’s guilt sink in.

Her face paled, considering her word choice, “Magnus, I-“

I shook my head. Hard. Tears threatened my eyes but I didn’t give in.

I stayed silent the rest of the car ride. So did Annabeth.

Chapter 4

Percy Mourns Over his Car

I woke up at 6 am to get ready for school. I ate breakfast across from my cousin in silence. But I was kinda tired of it.

Don’t get me wrong, I was mad at Annabeth, but I couldn’t stay salty forever.

It just wasn’t possible. Not when Annabeth was as kind and cool as she was.

“Uh,” I cleared my throat, “I heard there’s a dance next week. You taking Percy?”

Annabeth looked up at me with surprised eyes, “Yeah. The whole group’s going.”

I nodded. Personally, dances weren’t my thing. So I’d probably stay home.

“You could, um, tag along,” Annabeth offered.

I smiled. I really did appreciate Annabeth’s offer. And I was about to take it but, as I said, dances weren’t really my thing.

What can I say? I’m a homeschooled kid. Big events freak me out.

Annabeth smiled.

I liked the terms we were on now.

Even if they just covered up a problem. Better than having the problem stick around.

After I got ready and Annabeth finished up doing whatever takes girls so long to get ready, we headed out the door to Annabeth’s car.

“Oh, Mags, I meant to tell you earlier, we’re gonna pick up Percy,” She told me, sliding into the driver's seat as I got in the passenger side.

“Cool,” I nodded, “Why?”

Annabeth smirked, “His car broke down.”

“Oh.”

“So that kinda means you gotta move to the back.”

“Will I have to watch you two kiss?” I asked, moving to the back.

Annabeth scoffed but smiled, “Shut up.”

I just smirked and laid back in my seat.

When we pulled up to Percy’s apartment complex, I could see Percy jogging out. He got in the car and said, “Hey.”

“Hey,” Annabeth kissed his cheek.

I joked about a fake gag.

Percy turned to me, “Sup, Magnus?” He smiled.

“Nothin much. You?”

“A lot. I’m starting a job at the public pool to make some money to pay for a new car,” Percy grimaced.

“Yeah- how did that even happen?” I asked him.

“It just gave out on me!” Percy threw up his hands.

He sighed, “Man, and I liked that car.”

“There are other fish in the sea,” Annabeth smirked.

When we got to school, Percy went to walk Annabeth to class. I knew he loved his girlfriend, but the really advanced AP classes were at the far end of the school. If I were him, my legs would be screaming.

I made my way to first-period history, where I reminded myself I’d see some of my friends, TJ, Sam, and Halfborn.

Halfborn and TJ were already in the classroom when I walked in.

They came up to me and we started chatting.

“Hey, Gunderson!” A rough voice called to Halfborn.

Halfborn’s face twisted with exhaustion and frustration, “What do you want X?”

A big, strong guy with shaggy blonde hair walked up to them.

X’s lips curved into a sour smirk, “I was just wondering who this here is,” he glanced at me, “And apologize to him for having to join your pathetic band of weirdos.”

“Just leave us alone, Xander. Magnus chose to hang with us,” But TJ looked at me after saying that, his eyes asking: right?

“Yeah,” I said quietly, “I did.”

I wasn’t quiet because I was ashamed.

I was quiet because I was nervous about the guy looming over my friends and me.

“Hmph,” Said X.

“Whatever, X,” Halfborn glared at him, “You’re just salty because I left the team.”

X opened his mouth, but whatever he was going to say was cut off by the teacher telling the class to quiet down. X grunted and went back to his seat while TJ, Halfborn, and I sat down in our seats.

I got worried when Sam didn’t show up to class. Was she sick? Was I allowed to worry? Were we, like, friends?

When class dismissed, I asked TJ about Sam.

“She’s showing around her brother, remember?”

“I forgot,” I said. But of course, Sam would be the one showing her brother around. I wondered what he was like. I wondered if we might be friends. Sam was in 11th grade. What grade was her brother in? Would he be in any of my classes?

Halfborn walked next to us, looking sort of dejected.

“Uh, you okay?” I asked him.

“I hate X,” He told me

“He seems like a jerk. Is he mean to you a lot?”

“Ever since we got into a fight and I left the football team.”

“Why’d you leave the team?” I wondered.

“Because I hated him. He talked about Mallory,” he replied.

“Really?”

“He was mad because she turned him down.”

“He liked her?” I asked.

“A lot. But Mallory was already dating me and she wasn’t interested. So she turned him down.”

“And he blamed you.”

Halfborn snorted, “He said I was “holding her back” Mals got mad at this of course, and wanted to murder him, but I handled it.” He said with a grin.

“But now he taunts you mercilessly,” I nodded.

“Every. Single. Day,” TJ said, frustration in his voice.

“Sorry,” was all I could think to say.

“No one's fault except that jerk’s” TJ assured me.

We stayed silent, the three of us walking side by side, until I had to go to calculus. So we parted ways and I made my way to the classroom.

I sat next to the apparently murderous Mallory Keen and pulled out my workbook to do the problems on the board.

We ended up working on our books all class. I watched the clock longing for the minute hand to just speed up. Would that be too much to ask? I ended up giving Mallory free answers because, you know, friendship.

When the bell rang I was glad to leave. Not Mallory, the class. In fact, I walked with Mallory to English and talked to her, asking about Sam’s brother and the jerk X.

Mallory sighed, “Did Halfborn mention this crap with X happened like, two years ago? When we were freshmen?” She asked.

“No,” I answered, surprised. Why was the dude so hung up on a 9th-grade unrequited love?

I went to English, where I found Piper McLean, Will Solace, and Jason Grace. They invited me to sit with them and I accepted their offer. I soon learned they were a fun bunch. I also learned they had some sort of loathing hatred for our English teacher, who was tight-faced and had a nasal voice that gave me a headache. Seemed as if everyone did. I assumed I would soon.

I practically zoomed out of that classroom when the bell rang for lunch.

Chapter 5

The New Kid Punches me because I am an Idiot

I met Halfborn, TJ, and Mallory at the lunch table.

“Hey Mags,” Mallory nodded at me.

“Have you seen Sam and her brother yet?” TJ asked me.

“No,” I replied, “I thought they’d be here.”

Halfborn shrugged, “Maybe she’s still showing-“

But he was cut off by Sam’s voice saying, “Hey.” Behind me. I turned around to face her, but when I saw the kid next to her, I forgot how the breathe.

The kid’s features struck me like lighting. A charismatic expression, wryly smile, green hair sprouting from dark roots, and two-toned colored eyes. The right eye was brown and the left one seemed to be a bronze-ish gold. There was a name for eyes like those, but I didn’t remember what it was. My mom always called them David Bowie eyes.

The kid wore a checkered sweater vest on top of a collared shirt, lime green jeans, rose-high tops, and a pink sweater wrapped around his waist.

“You can stop staring now,” The kid told me.

“I- I wasn't- you-” I blushed and looked away.

Sam whispered something to the kid, who went, “Yeah, yeah I know. I’ll introduce myself.”

The kid turned to the rest of us, “I’m Alex Fierro. Nice to meet you I guess.”

Alex pulled out the seat next to mine and plopped down, making himself at home.

“Is he-“ Mallory started

“She,” Alex corrected.

“What?” Mallory asked.

“Call me she unless and until I tell you otherwise.”

“Yeah but-“

“She and her,” Alex said firmly.

“Alex is genderfluid,” Sam told the group.

A stuffy, uncomfortable filled the area.

Awkwardness.

I hated awkwardness.

Maybe a joke would make things less tense.

“Genderfluid? So you uh, switch between genders? Do you assign a gender for each day of the week? Monday you’re a dude, Tuesday you’re a girl?” I attempted to crack a smile.

And apparently, my joke was so unfunny and idiotic that I earned a punch square in the face from Alex Fierro.

It wasn’t a horribly hard punch that would result in my nose breaking or bleeding.

It still hurt like hell. I’d probably have a bruise.

I didn’t blame Alex for hitting me. It was a lame joke. But why oh why did she have to have such a good punch?

“Agh,” I held my head in my hands.

“Magnus!” Sam exclaimed and then turned to Alex, “Why’d you do that?” She asked her.

“I- well he was being sort of stupid,” Alex pointed out.

“Maybe, but you shouldn’t have punched him.”

“The guy can take it, Sam.”

And she was right, I could take it. But that doesn’t mean I wanted it.

“Fine- it’s fine-“ winced, putting up my hand.

“I should still take you to the nurse,” Sam said.

She glanced around the cafe. Everyone was staring.

“Get back to your lunch, people!” Alex announced.

And they did. Because Alex Fierro was the kind of person you wanted to listen to.

Sam sighed. “Come on, Magnus, let’s go tell the nurse you ran into a wall.”

The nurse gave me an ice pack for my supposed run-in with the wall.

“Sorry, Magnus,” Sam apologized as we made our way down the hall.

“It’s not your fault,” I said.

“I know. It’s Alex. She’s just-“

“No it’s fine, I was being stupid.”

“I won’t deny or confirm that but Alex shouldn’t have punched you.”

I just shrugged.

“She hates this whole thing, you know?”

“Hates what?

“Being at a new school. Getting judged,” Sam replied, “She’s been judged by everyone her whole life. Classmates, adults. Even her own family was…toxic.” That hadn’t seemed to be what Sam wanted to say at first but she left it at that.

“Oh. So she’s wary of people. That’s why she punched me,” I guessed.

“Probably. But maybe she just didn’t like your comment. I didn’t really like it either. You need to work on your humor, Chase.” She shot me a smirk.

I smiled, “Yeah, I do.”

The bell for 4th period rang before we could even get back to the cafeteria. Luckily, Sam and I had brought our things with us in case of this. So we just headed to class.

I had hoped to avoid Alex Fierro for the rest of the day. Not because I hated her for punching me. Because I wanted to give her time to cool off so that I wouldn’t need to go to the nurse for a second time.

But luck is never in my favor, since Alex Fierro was who I saw in my art class, chatting with Mr Blitzen.

Mr Blitzen pointed at me and Nico’s desks, which couldn’t be a good sign, and turned back to Alex and continued speaking.

The horror only got worse.

Alex sat down in Nico’s empty seat. Where was Nico? I silently cursed him, as his absence would most likely result in another bruise.

I slowly made my way to his seat, not saying a word to Alex.

That was until she slapped two crisp dollar bills in front of me. One was a ten, the other a five.

“Uh, what’s this?” I asked.

“Payment, duh,” Alex smirked.

“For-for punching my face?” I pointed to my bruise.

“What else?”

“You don’t have to pay for my face,” I shook my head.

Alex snorted, “That sounds weird.”

“It does.”

“Anyways, if you don’t want my money then I guess…”

I sort of did want it. I’d probably be able to get a new comic book with that money. But Fierro didn't need to give me apology money.

“You can take it back,” I told him.

“Whew. That's a relief. I kinda need that money anyways,” Alex said. I wondered why but decided not to ask. Maybe it had something to do with the “situation” she had gotten herself into.

We stayed silent. Alex had gotten a paper to work on her own portrait. I couldn't quite tell who she was drawing. A boy, but he wasn't familiar. Of course not, since I wasn't connected to Alex in any way except for Sam. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized. I had seen Fierro before. I wasn't sure exactly when or where, but I was pretty sure I might've seen her on the street or in an aisle at a store in my old neighborhood.

“His name is Adrian,” A voice broke my train of thought.

“What?” I looked up at Alex.

“The guy in my portrait,” she clarified, “His name was Adrian.”

“Oh, cool,” was all I could say. Because I caught the “was” and wanted to talk about it. But I didn't want to make Alex uncomfortable, or worse, earn another punch.

She looked at my paper, “May I give you a suggestion? Outline the proportions before you start on the features.”

I looked at the portrait. The proportions were out of place. That's why my mom's eyes looked so weird.

“Thanks,” I told her.

“Least I could do since I kinda gave you a black eye,” Alex shrugged.

“Is it that bad?” I asked.

“Nah not really,” Alex answered, “The bruising is only under your eye,” she said.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

And we were silent while working on our projects for the rest of class.

I didn't know what to do with Alex Fierro. She was intimidating. Intense. But at the same time, she was intriguing. I wanted to know Alex Fierro. I wanted to figure out what she was all about.

But how could I dig deeper without hurting her? (which would result in hurting me)

After class, when the bell rang, I decided to do something.

I stopped Alex Fierro on the way out.

“Can I have your number?”

Alex raised an eyebrow, “Why?”

“Uh, because I wanna text you,” I replied.

“Why?”

“Because that’s what friends do?”

“We’re friends?” Alex raised her other eyebrow.

“I mean, do you want to be…?”

Alex shrugged. “I guess.”

She gave me her number.

Chapter 6

Sam lets me Have the Aux Cord

“Magnus!” Sam called to me.

I was walking in the student parking lot, heading to Annabeth’s car, when I spotted Sam and Alex standing by a blue Mazda.

I walked over to them.

“I didn’t know you could drive,” Sam said, “Are you sixteen?” She asked.

“No, I’m fifteen,” I answered.

My birthday was in January. It was currently March.

My mind went back to the time when I was thirteen. My mom promised me she’d get me a car for my birthday. She’d already started setting money aside when I started junior high.

“I want to get you a sports car,” She told me one day when we were on the road.

“Why?” I asked, “Aren’t those expensive.”

“Maybe,” mom sighed with a sad smile, “But you know, high school girls like riding in sports cars. With the top down, a cute guy next to her.”

“Ew,” I said.

My mom gave a soft laugh, “You might say that now, but that’s how I met your father.”

My mother’s eyes looked tired and sad. That’s how they always looked when she talked about my dad.

“Uhh, Magnus?” Sam waved in front of me.

“Oh, sorry,” I apologized and looked at her car, “Nice ride,” I told her.

“Thanks,” Sam smiled, “Alex and I were just about to head back home. You need a ride?”

I hesitated, but then said, “If it’s not too much trouble.”

I wondered if Annabeth would mind. Probably not. She was driving Percy home anyway and I really didn’t feel like being a third wheel.

“It’s not. And I’ll let you have the aux,” Sam smiled.

“But I thought-“ Alex started.

“Let the guy with the black eye pick the music,” Sam said firmly, “Besides I’m tired of listening to Odetari.”

Alex rolled her eyes.

“Whatever. But I call shotgun!” Alex slid into the passenger side seat.

Sam looked at me with exhaustion. Being Alex’s sister must be tiring.

I got into the back seat and Sam got in the drivers side.

After buckling up I pulled out my phone and texted Annabeth that I was riding with Sam.

Me: I’m riding with Sam. She’s gonna drop me off. Don’t be mad.

Annabeth: why would I be?

Me: idk tell Percy hi for me

Annabeth: k see you later

“Well, Maggie, ready to play us some sick tunes?” Alex asked, glancing back at me before opening the top mirror, pulling out a tube from her bag and touching up her eyeliner.

“Don’t call me Maggie,” I said, taking the cord as Sam handed it to me.

I plugged my phone in and opened Spotify.

I tapped on my main playlist that included my favorite bands. Arctic Monkeys, The Neighbourhood, Weezer, and The Killers.

The first song that came on shuffle was 505.

Alex put her eyeliner away and grinned, “I absolutely love this song,” she said.

“Is this…Arctic Monkeys?” Sam asked, “I have their AM record.”

As the song went on, I started singing quietly. Not too loud, or I’d probably ruin the song for Alex and Sam. But still, I sang. I loved singing this song. I felt a rush of satisfaction as I hit the notes perfectly.

My favorite lyric was about to come up and I sang my heart out when the singer sang: I crumble completely when you cry

When the song ended, I found Alex turned around in her seat, looking at me with a daring glint in her eye.

“I didn’t know you could do that,” She exclaimed.

“Yeah,” Sam looked at me in the rear view mirror, “Magnus that was…awesome!”

“T-thanks,” I told them. I didn’t know what to do with this compliment. I had a love for singing since I was little, but nobody had ever told me my voice was awesome.

“I wish I had my guitar with me. I learned to play that rift a while ago,” Alex told me.

“And I could totally learn that on drums,” Sam added.

We were all quiet for a second, deep in thought.

“Are you guys thinking what I’m thinking?” Sam asked over Weezer’s Sweater Song.

Alex smirked, “We should start a band.”

“What?” I asked. I was thinking it too, but I didn’t know they were serious.

“We totally could,” Sam agreed.

“I’m in, obviously,” Alex said.

“So am I,” Sam looked at me, “You in Magnus?”

“I-“ I paused. Maybe this was good. Maybe a band would be the perfect way to get my mind off of things, “I’m in.” I made up my mind.

@imasimpdealwithit i think you wanted to read this lol

#rick riordanverse #pjo #mcga #alex fierro #fierrochase #magnus chase #samirah al abbas #fanfic

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weasleywinchester · 2 years

Text

Slow Motion - Ch. 3

I'll Never Be the Same

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Curvy Female Reader

Ehh ooo fam we back with another chapter of the fic that is currently keeping me from the pit of despair! Hopefully a few more updates for a few different series will be up this week since I have a consistent work schedule this week! Also I got the promotion at work! So hopefully my schedule will sort of straighten out so I have more time for the 10,000 hobbies I have 😅

Series Summary:

I mean, love at first sight has to exist for some people. Guess you’re one of the lucky ones. Bob had said it so nonchalantly. Like it was a thing that could, did, happen in real life. And yet here he was, Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw, falling for you faster than his plane could take off. But even if everything felt slow motion, was it possible the two of you were moving too fast?

Chapter Summary:

A week. One whole ass week and both of you were walking around like love drunk idiots. Rooster's no stranger to showing a girl a good time, but this love thing, that was new. And there was one thing he knew to be true: he could not screw this up. You on the other hand? All new territory; the hot guy, the flirting, you heart sounding like a fighter jet anytime he even crosses your mind. But luckily both of you had plenty of people rooting for you.

Monday

For 7 am there sure has been a lot of activity. You’ve checked in about a dozen guests, rearranged the Admiral’s calendar a few times and the phone will not stop ringing.

You manage to redirect the latest call, slamming the phone back into its cradle. Putting your head in your hands, you take a deep breath in and try not to linger on the fact that you left your lunch sitting on the counter at home. You couldn’t sleep after Bradley dropped you off; you tossed and turning not trying to read too far into the forehead kiss. Does it mean something? Does he look at me like a sister now that he know I’m the one Mav’s been trying to set him up with?

“Morning Red.” A familiar voice, still gravely from sleep, pulls you from your thoughts. You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face as you look up to see Rooster giving you a sleepy smile as he leans against your desk.

“You’re a sight for tired eyes Cap.” You look up at him, propping your cheek up with your hand. God, he's so cute.

He opens his mouth to reply when another voice cuts him off.

“He’s no captain.” Hangman scoffs, throwing his arm around Rooster and giving him a shake. You manage to keep your laugh to yourself despite the daggers that are clearly shooting out of Rooster’s eyes.

“She knows how to read Hangman.” Bob sarcastically notes as he passes by.

“Come on, let’s move!” Phoenix rolls her eyes, pulling Hangman off of Rooster. He gives a playful “hey!” As he’s shuffled away.

I owe Bob and Phoenix a drink… Bradley thinks as he turns back to your pretty face.

“Why’s he called Hangman?” You wonder aloud.

“How about we don’t talk about him anymore.” Rooster yawns. He may be tired but not enough to talk about Hangman.

“Thanks for driving me home last night.” You smile.

“You mean the whole two streets over from Mav and Penny’s?” He shakes his head. “Thought I was being a gentleman.”

“You were! Mav normally walks me home.” You huff a little laugh, your eyes connecting with his. There it is again, the silence that is full, just not with spoken words.

“I did actually come over here to ask if you were free Friday night?” He slowly asks, casting his eyes downwards. No backing out now. You don’t immediately answer, and when he looks back up your eyes are glued to him and he can practically hear the error noise in your brain.

“Red?” Knew that kiss was too risky. This probably wasn’t the best time. Maybe I can play it off-

“Ya… I’m free.” you answer. Is he asking me out?? On a date??

He quickly stands up straight, running his hands down the front of his uniform and clearing his throat.

“Uh, a bunch of the pilots and a few others are getting together for a bonfire on the beach. Thought maybe you could come with me…” he shrugs practically with his whole body. Stop being so awkward man. You know how do this!

“Ya.” You grin, watching Bradley slowly mirror it.

“Awesome, I’ll pick you up around 7?” He asks, his usual swagger back.

“Okay.” He gives you a shy smile and turns toward the hallway.

“And don’t worry, I remember how to get to your place.” He winks over his shoulder.

Oh no.

“Hey, Rooster?” You wait until he turns to face you. “Could you not drive by Mav’s?” He gives you a small frown and waits for you to continue. “I’ll explain eventually, but Mav will jump to conclusions…”

"The correct conclusions?”

“Ya… but he doesn’t need to know quite yet.” You wink. Rooster grins at your mischievous look and nods.

_______

Friday

“Oh thank god you two could swing by!” You swallow both Penny and Amelia in a hug while trying to shuffle them inside.

“Well, your text made it sound important.” Penny laughs.

“I have a date, sort of, and I have no clue what to wear.” You blurt.

“With who?” Penny asks.

“Sort of?” Amelia asks at the same time.

“You already know.” You try to telepathically transmit Bradley’s name to Penny. “And it’s group bonfire night. Come look at what I have chosen so far.” You take Amelia’s hand and run into your bedroom.

“The beach is freezing at night, so I don’t want to wear anything too light.” You state, showing the girls your outfits you’ve put together so far. “But I also want to, you know, look good…”

“How about forgetting the jacket layer? Maybe he'll an extra if you happen to forget yours.”

“Amelia!” Penny gasps. You and Amelia roll your eyes.

“Penny, she’s your daughter, are you really that surprised?” You playfully snap. Penny contemplates your observation and nods.

“True. So dresses are out?” She picks up the one on your bed.

“Ya… I’ll just end up tucked in it like a ball if I get cold.” You agree.

“Why not just a shirt and jeans?” Penny shrugs. “Well, jean shorts since you don’t do pants.”

“What about this?” Amelia rearranges a few items.

“Perfect.” You and Penny agree. Now just to not be a fool in front of him. He wouldn’t ask you out just because Mav wanted him too…

“You ok (Y/N)?” Penny asks, squeezing your shoulders.

“Penny… I can’t describe this feeling I have. It’s like we know each other, deeper than we know ourselves. But at the same time I’ve known him for a week.” You dramatically flop onto your bed, the girls immediately following suit. “I thought feeling like this only ever existed in my imagination.” You whisper.

“Oh, trust me it’s real. It might not always turn out how we think it will, but it’s very real.” Penny whispers, taking your hand in hers.

_______

“I’ll bet you a hundred bucks that Rooster shows up with a girl.” Hangman flashes a look to the group of pilots around the fire. They all wave him off, no way would anyone bet on that.

“I’ll bet he shows up with Red.” Bob pipes up. Hangman flashes a wicked smile while the rest of the group shakes their heads.

“You gotta deal Bob.” Hangman extends his hand and they shake.

“You really think he’d bring her?” Phoenix asks, giving Bob an unsure look.

“Trust me.” Bob smiles to himself, pushing up his glasses with his index finger. You two had become good friends and you admitted you would date Rooster if he asked. And Bob had suggested to Rooster to invite you tonight.

“There he is.” Coyote sits up to get a better look. Everyone follows his gaze to the blue bronco that just pulled in. Sure enough Rooster steps out with his signature sunglasses and gives everyone a wave. He jogs to the other side, opening the door and helps you out of the car.

“Bastard, how did you know?” Hangman tosses the bills at Bob, who quickly snatches them before they blow away.

“You sure they’ll be ok with me being here?” You ask Rooster as he takes your hand to help you down the hill.

“Ya, Hangman invited Joanna and her friends. Plus the group likes you al-“ he can feel you lose your balance and manages to catch you before you and booze hit the sand. “ready.” He finishes.

“I swear that wasn’t on purpose.” You giggle.

“If you wanted me to hold you close all you had to do was ask.” Rooster teases, quickly pecking you on the cheek before letting you stand on your own.

“Will you two hurry up? I’m thirsty!” Fanboy yells from his spot in the sand. The rest of the group playfully kicks sand in his direction as you and Rooster quickly join the group.

“Ooo whiskey, you know how to pick the good stuff Red.” Hangman compliments.

“What makes you think she picked it?” Rooster feigns offense.

“You would have bought cheap beer, and a lot of it.” Phoenix answers.

“Yikes. Guess it benefits everyone that I came.” You tease, sitting down next to Bob.

“You don’t mind us using the nickname, right?” Bob whispers, offering you some m&ms.

“I don’t, and I don’t think Rooster does either.” You shrug, gladly taking a handful of m&ms.

The group of girls Hangman invited join you, turning up the volume of the radio and getting everyone to dance. The bottle of whiskey disappears just as fast as the sun sets and everyone but the pilots, and you, have stumbled home.

“Wait, wait, wait! You’re telling me he wouldn’t let you, a pilot for the United States Navy, fly him? In a plane?” You shout in disbelief.

“Nope. Said it’s not you babe, it’s the plane.” Halo holds her hands up in surrender. “Like I believed that for even a second!”

“Would you fly with Rooster?” Phoenix asks, eyeing you suspiciously. Everyone gets quiet, their eyes flicking between you and Rooster.

“Ya, of course.” You answer. If you trust pilots you don’t even know to fly 747’s then why would you not trust anyone currently sitting around you?

“Really?” Hangman asks, his eyes searching yours to see if you’re just saying that to be nice.

“Ya, seems silly not to trust one of the best.” You smile at Rooster. “And that goes for all of you.” You quickly add, not that it made your feelings any less obvious.

“Think you’re the only civilian who’s ever said that to any of us.” Bob states, the look of surprise still on his face.

“Lucky me.” You smile. A shiver runs up your back as the breeze starts biting through your shirt.

“Here.” Rooster shucks his flannel off and places it on your shoulders.

“Now you’ll be cold.” You comment, trying to hide the smile tugging at your mouth. I owe Amelia a girls day out.

“Brought a spare when I saw you were wearing shorts and a baseball tee.” He shoots back as he puts a new flannel on.

Bob and Phoenix share a look when Rooster scoots flush against your side, putting his arm around you.

“They’re so in love.” Phoenix whispers.

“How long before they realize that?” Bob chuckles as he finished off his beer.

The group chats until the fire dies down enough that it no longer keeps any of you warm. Everyone says their goodnights, the guys giving Rooster a few cheeky comments about taking you home as he helps you into the Bronco.

“Hey.” You put your hands on his before he has time to walk away. His body snaps back to the side of the car, his face coming very close to yours as he gives you that cute dazed look you can never get enough of.

“I had a really nice time Bradley.” You whisper.

“So did I.” He smiles, eyes drifting down to your lips. When he looks back up you lean in and gently press your lips to his for a split second. You pull back far enough to make sure you weren’t moving too fast.

Without taking his eyes off you he opens the door, and slides into your seat, guiding you to sit on his lap. He flicks his eyes from yours down to your mouth and back up, silently asking if he can continue. You nod and eagerly press your mouth against his. His fingers dig into your thigh, and he licks the seam of your mouth begging for entrance.

You gladly oblige, your arm wrapping around his neck as the other hand slots into his curly hair. Your tongues dance and swirl, no spot left untouched. After what feel like eternity, you unlock your mouth from his, lungs desperate for air and brain so foggy you feel like you’re spinning. And then you feel it, a tickle that follows each kiss down your neck and you can’t help but squirm away.

“What’s so funny Red?” He breathes out, his own lungs finally having a chance to fill.

“The ‘stache tickles.” You giggle, combing it with your fingers.

“Say the word and I'll shave it.” He takes your hand, kissing each of your finger tips before kissing your lips.

“You would do that?” You frown. The world famous 'stache shaved for me?

“Only if you promise to keep kissing me like this.” He smiles, pushing your hair behind your ear.

“Can’t shave it, pretty sure the Navy would throw me overboard.” You kiss him on the cheek. “Guess you’ll just have to keep kissing me until I get used to it.” You mumble as you press your open mouth against his.

He sighs, a smile spreading across his face. As you wish, Red.

_______

Saturday

“Don’t you two took great!” Penny claps her hands together at the sight of Maverick and Rooster in full uniform.

“You say that to everyone in uniform.” Mav chuckles, stealing a kiss.

“Can’t help that everyone looks good in uniform.” She laughs, turning to Rooster. His eyes are already scanning the Family Fun Day crowd for something, or someone.

“We’ll catch up later.” Mav pats him on the back. Rooster gives him a nod and bolts to the row of booths.

“Just me or is he distracted?” Mav smirks at Penny.

“Not as distracted as you.” She winks, taking off toward the crowd.

Rooster waves to a few people as he passes, eyes darting around the carnival until he spots you sitting on a bench. He straightens his uniform, takes a deep breath and saunters over to you.

“Hey Red.” His smooth voice whispers in your ear.

“Cap.” You lean back and smile over your shoulder. Swear her smile gets more beautiful every time...

“How come you’re not over there with all the other pretty girls waiting to walk the runway.” He nods to the group of women dressed in their best 1940’s attire.

“No one wants to see me on that runway.” You playfully roll your eyes.

“I do.” He simply answers, looking at you over the brim of his glasses.

“You think I'm just as pretty?” You smile triumphantly.

“I think you’re more beautiful than any of the women on this base, but that’s beside the point.” He stands up, waltzing around the bench and taking a seat next to you. “What’s it going to take to get you up there?” He nods toward the stage.

“Seriously?” You cross your arms over your chest.

“How about a friendly wager?” He slides off his glasses, clipping them to his shirt, and waits for your answer. You wave your hand for him to continue.

“You get on that stage and I’ll take you to dinner.” He smirks. “You win that competition, you get to choose the place and I'll pay.” He lays one arm along the back of the bench, and even though he’s not touching you, you can feel the electricity spark from his fingertips.

“Sounds like you just want an excuse to be alone with me.” you point out. He bites his tongue and gives you a shy smile.

“Damn, saw right through me.” He chuckles in your ear. You feel the tip of his nose gently scrape against your cheek, and it takes every ounce of control not to shiver.

“We have a deal, hot stuff.” You say into the shell of his ear and walk over to the sign in table.

“Rooster!”

He turns to the voice to see Hangman, Phoenix and the rest of the crew barreling toward him.

“What’s up man?” Rooster reaches for Hangman’s hand, pulling him in for a half hug.

“Did you see all the ladies gearing up for the annual 40’s styled battle of the babes.” He claps, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

“I know which one is gunna win.” Rooster fires back.

“And how would you know that?” Phoenix pokes.

“Guess you'll just have to wait and see.” Rooster grins, playfully punching the air and taking off to find you backstage.

“Ready Red?” He whispers into your ear, laughing when you jump a little.

“Bradley! Didn’t your mom ever tell you not to sneak up on people?” You lightly swat his chest, your heart going into overdrive.

“Yea, but the Navy says differently.” He flashes a smile as the precession of ladies moves onto the stage.

Someone is announcing names of the girls and their escorts while the crowd ooh’s and ahh’s at them. You watch each girl walk out into that runway, a seed of doubt sprouting in the back of your mind.

“You don't really have to do this if you don't want to.” Rooster offers, noting the small furrow in your brow. He takes your hand and gently places it in the cook of his elbow, preparing to take you wherever you want to go.

“Tell me one thing before we walk out?” You whisper.

“Anything.” He answers. He’s typically reserved with personal information, but he feels like he can tell you anything.

“You ever met someone that makes you feel… different, like you’ll never be the same?” Like you've been in love the moment you saw them in a bar smiling like at you like you were the best thing they ever laid eyes on?

He takes a deep breath beside you, shaking out the tension in his body. Your turn.

“Ya. You.” He confesses, heart pounding louder than a fighter plane. He slowly looks over to see you look up at him, a smile spreading across your face as one of the volunteers backstage directs you to where to start walking.

“And now we have Miss (Y/Full/N), who I’ve been told was awarded the call sign ‘Red’. Ain’t the cute everyone? Her own call sign!”

Bradley struts beside you, waving and saluting to the crowd and you can’t help but do the same.

“And look at those amazing victory rolls! Very talented! She’s escorted by Lieutenant Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw...”

A Loud whistle erupts from the crowd, followed by loud cheering. You look to see all of his friends clapping and whistling as you two walk by. When you reach the end of the stage Rooster gives you a twirl and dips you low, making the crowd go wild.

“Rooster!” You giggle as he gently pulls you up, keeping you close.

“Gotta give them the whole show Red.” He chuckles, walking you back up the stage.

“Alright! Let’s see what the judges have to say.” The announcer excitedly tells the crowd. Each judge holds up their cards but you could care less if you won, because you still get the ultimate prize of a date with the handsome man beside you.

_______

Monday

“How would one get a hold of 10 pounds of crappy work coffee?” You ask Eric, whom you have labeled “the snack man” since he’s in charge of ordering all the food and drinks for the staff break rooms.

He stops reading the paperwork that’s in front of him and slowly turns to you.

“Why would you need that much?”

“It’s… ugh… for a personal thing.” You shrug. Please don’t ask…

His face turns from concerned to intrigued, which means you’re going to have to fess up.

“I lost a bet with Mav. I now owe him a year's worth of crappy work coffee.” you mumble, finding the toes of your shoes very interesting.

“Ok. What was the bet?” He finally breaks the silence.

“What?” You look up at him.

“The bet. What was it?”

You stick your tongue inside of your cheek. Can't be worse then telling Mav he won, right?

“Whether or not I’d start dating his nephew…”

Eric bursts out laughing, slamming his fists on the desk.

“Eric…” You moan. It’s not that funny!

Eric’s turning red at this point, unable to breath in long enough to give himself oxygen. You give him a few more seconds but it doesn’t seem like he’s going to stop.

“Eric! You going to help me or what?” You shout.

“Ya… ya, I’ll get you your crappy coffee.” He stands and walks past you. “I would say I could have told you you’d lose that bet, but guess you didn’t really lose, huh?” He pats your shoulder and starts gathering the coffee.

_______

“Woah, what’s that for?” Amelia asks as Bradley slams the giant coffee bag onto the island.

“No idea. (Y/N) said to set it on the counter.” He shrugs, taking a seat next to her.

“Oh good, you’re here.” You smile at Amelia as you walk into the kitchen.

“Coffee Beans?” Amelia raises her brow at you.

“Mav and I had a bet. And I lost. He gets a year's worth of work coffee.”

“What was the bet?” Amelia and Bradley say in unison.

“Whether or not I would end up dating Bradley…” The words slowly fall from your mouth.

“We are official now…” Bradley points out to Amelia.

“Called it. But that means you bet against it?” Amelia frowns at the last bit.

“Woah woah, don’t get it twisted. I would date Bradley in a heartbeat…” You clarify. “I didn’t think he would want to date…. me.”

“Why?” They ask in unison again.

“Because sometimes I can’t get past what society has put into my head.” You sigh.

“Babe, You’re the most beautiful woman I have ever met.” He takes your hand and pulls you until you’re standing between his knees. “And I wouldn't change a thing about all these nice curves.” He rumbles into your ear, running his hands along your hips.

“Thanks sugar.” You tell him softly, pressing your lips quickly against his.

“No kissing in front of the children!” Amelia playfully whines, covering her eyes.

“Alright, alright! Help me make this look nice!” You giggle, taking a bunch of supplies out of your bag.

_______

“Amelia said (Y/N) came by earlier and dropped something off for you.” Penny tells Mav as they pull into the garage.

“Really? Thought she was stuck at work-” Mav takes two steps into the house and all he can see from the hall is MAV written in big red letters. He quickly walks over to the kitchen island and there’s a large brown box sitting on the counter that says

Lift me!

He shimmy’s the box up to reveal a very large bag of coffee that has a note taped to the top of it

Look in the box.

“That’s not even the good stuff…” Penny mumbles. Mav’s face breaks into the biggest smile when he remember what he told you a couple months back

“Too late. You owe me a year's worth of crappy work coffee if you two end up dating.”

He looks inside the box and there’s an envelope stuck to the top. He peels it off, flipping it over to open it and almost misses the very small writing along the flap

You win.

He opens it and pulls out a polaroid picture of you and Bradley kissing.

“It’s official.” He smiles triumphantly, turning the picture to show Penny.

“Hope she’s ready for this wild ride.” Penny shakes her head, giving Mav a big kiss on the cheek.

_______

Tag list:

@dilfsandtherapy

@kajjaka

@scott-mccall-could-lift-mjolnir

#bradley bradshaw x plus size reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #top gun fic #jake hangman seresin #natasha phoenix trace #robert bob floyd #pete maverick mitchell #penny benjamin #amelia benjamin #weasleywinchester

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notasapleasure · 5 months

Text

Tagged by @stripedroseandsketchpads to post my comfort shows, but I have posted those already (though thanks to tumblr search I can't find the post on mobile. They were, uh.... The Terror; Utopia; Ghosts; Futurama; Detectorists; Atla; Ripper Street; Garrow's Law; Lupin...? Something like that)

So I will do another meme I saw doing the rounds, the recent media meme!

Currently reading: just today I finished Study for Obedience by Sarah Bernstein, as far as I can recall, the third book I've managed to finish this year. It was...compelling is the word I keep returning to. Many of the strands fascinated me: unreliable narrator filled with self-deprecation despite her clear skills and accomplishments, unspoken history of personal and intergenerational (particularly antisemitic) trauma, folkloric omens and a growing, sinister atmosphere with incestuous overtones...but ultimately it was too opaque for me. I wanted the strands to come together, or at least for the scenes with the villagers to be contextualised somehow.

Fic I'm currently reading: well, I keep going over @distressednoise 's Magaluf AU hoping there will be more :') and I really must make myself have a Lymond day and catch up with @stripedroseandsketchpads 's fic file! Also I must get on and educate myself further in @r0b0tb0y 's archive

Last song: introducing my dad to the joy of Half Man Half Biscuit - Asparagus Next Left, because there was a layby seller of holly wreaths near our new house just before Christmas, and since they ran out of wreaths they took most of the hand-written signs down so now there's just one mildly sinister arrow and the sign reading 'layby'.

Currently watching: just finished S1 of Loki, which was fun! (apart from the predictably wanky acceleration up its own MCU fundament of the Kang scenes in the last episode, now delightfully combined with the knowledge that Jonathan Majors was so bad even Marvel let him go). But I was pleasantly surprised overall, and I love Mobius. Mobius describing Loki/Sylvie for what it is was my favourite moment, because none of Mobius's pronouncements seem judgemental, just thrilled by the variety of existence, in a very Owen Wilson way :))

Though literally currently watching The Lion in Winter, which was chosen as the family NYE movie over The Green Knight.

Next on my watchlist: when I get my own telly watching schedule back I can't wait to watch Blue Eye Samurai. I should also finish Castlevania...

Current obsession: Brasso. Cassian. Brassian. I'm sorry to everyone else who is being lovely and wonderful and passionate about other fandoms and other fics in my inboxes, but they are my home right now. I've been mulling saga AU pt 2 and another canon-verse one shot today and it's made me very happy :)

Consider yourself tagged if you're reading this and want to do a meme! Say I tagged you and I will delight in reading your answers :)

#memes

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afreakingdork · 1 year

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What's Next?

Hey, everybody! Gosh, I was really hoping I would have polls to make this more interactive, but sadly tumblr said that is not to be! Since Crush Too Much has ended, I was hoping to ask y'all how you wanted it to be posted up on ao3, but without polls I'll just have to decide.

Therefore, starting tomorrow and for the next 22 days I'm going to be throwing up the chapters of Crush Too Much on ao3!

To celebrate the occasion and hopefully make it fun for people who have already read, I'll be doing a daily post here that include bonus content from thoughts to a timeline and whatever notes I had been pouring over when i was writing! I'm also going through and re-editing the fic because I definitely missed a bunch of dumb technical errors. While I can't promise they'll all be totally eradicated (editing 😩), I can hopefully say that it will confidently read a little better in some ways! Sadly, we'll be losing the color with an ao3 posting, but I hope the chapter titles make up for that.

What's next?

I once stated in an ask that my timeline didn't include anymore rottmntxreader fanfiction because I needed to finish my incomplete kacchako fics and start my original story. That is still the plan, but.... well.... since then I... may or may not have.... uh.... written pages and pages and pages for a new donniexreader fic.... Willpower be damned... I'm still putting it together and I am not allowing myself to really get into it without at least STARTING to finish my other fics, but may I present to you:

Weak Spot

A RotTMNT Donatello x Fem!Reader explicit fanfiction that will explore romance and love when your partner just so happens to be a villain.

That's right! it's going to be a villain!Donniexreader fanfic! It's going to be porn with plot and way more freeform than Crush Too Much. To clarify, they are totally unrelated and unlike it's predecessor, it does not have a single overarching story to tell. Instead, as I said, I just want to languidly explore the many facets of love and self when it comes to good and evil. Since I'll be writing it concurrently while finishing my other fanfics, please note that updates will be longer in between and I still have no schedule. I can tell you that I think about it constantly so expect the first chapter starting next month without a doubt.

I also want to address the shift to a fem!reader. I feel like I'm letting down my audience by not continuing to make reader gender neutral. There's been an ongoing discussion of how to write gender neutral sex and though I know I should push myself, I also find myself leaning back into the comfort of what I know. I going to really push to skirt the line as much as possible tthough, so reader will be generic as possible most of the time. I do truly apologize for the shift and will continue to work to improve my writing.

If you're curious about the process, I have a membership tier on my ko-fi where I'll be throwing up WIPs and other details/notes about Weak Spot as I write! Otherwise, all posted chapters will be going up on there/here/ao3 generally as well. If you're curious, a follow is always free~

Speaking of follows...?

I am less than 50 followers away from 1000! I'm still on track to hold that giveaway contest and write that one-shot when we hit it! Thank you so much for following along and I can't wait until we can celebrate!!! 🎉

I think that clears everything up! I'm always open to hearing your thoughts and I'm super excited for what this year seems to be bringing 😃 I seriously cannot thank each and every one of you enough. My life is different now and truly for the better because of all of you!

#about me #update

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shintorikhazumi · 2 years

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Two Less-Lonely People In The World

Two less-lonely people in the world

A/N: Ey, Genshin fandom debut. Crap.

SaraEula friendship fic. I love Eula. She’s the first character who I fell in love with. Story, design, playstyle (tho I don’t have her. *sobs in pain of just having gotten a decent enough device to run GI*). Then Sara came in and swooped down and into my heart. I love the birb so much too T-T. These 2 always make me so sad when I think about their backgrounds.

I am down bad for Characters with the best angst potential. Thus, I would like to form the Teyvat Sad Girls’ Club- (I already have the Liyue member ready in my mind)

Tell me Eula and Sara won’t become besties when they can possibly relate so much to each other T-T.

Assigned as personal guards/protection/attendants to Jean and Ei for a meeting between nations stuff. Yas.

EuJean and AyaSara being (somewhat) on the rarepair side gives me pain. I NEED FOOD. So, uh… I cooked some- (tho it’s not cooked well, I’m sorry)

Enjoy?

~Shintori Khazumi

It is quiet. Incredibly, unnervingly so. So much so that Eula swears she can hear the continuous ticking of the tiny pocket watch resting by her hip.

She’s certain that if she checks it, the time would reflect some ungodly hour of the night- maybe even tell her that it is already a new day refreshing.

Eula has stood in the same spot for hours she could no longer be bothered to count, definitely bored out of her wits, though her upbringing would allow no such tell in her manners.

Still… there must be something worth doing. Something to keep her entertained until the leaders of Teyvat realize that the greatest ‘peace’ they can hope to achieve at present during these treaty talks is the peace that comes with slumber; realize that sleep is a necessity to continue living. Maybe a luxury to people like them, but despite her reconnaissance duties-demanding as they are at times- Eula likes to think she still holds a healthy sleeping schedule compared to most knights. (She tries not to think about a certain grand master and knight-maid in contrast.)

Eula would very much love to get some peace of mind before she loses said mind and gives those workaholics a piece of her mind.

Her eyes have gotten tired of the plain wooden panels in front of her, and she shifts them about, catching sight of her companion who has been in the same predicament as herself. Huh.

Eula secretly gives the tall figure a once-over, noting the tireless rigid stance it maintains. Eula sighs. She can already guess that they both aren’t ones to strike up idle chatter, if the hours they’d already spent in silence were any more obvious of an indication.

But.

She remains bored.

And Eula Lawrence isn’t too keen on staying bored. She’s already quite exhausted from going straight to guarding this meeting just as they’d stepped foot on the island without a moment’s rest. Getting bored on top of that- Eula would hate to drift off in any way. (Not that her discipline would permit such a thing.) So perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to try.

Perhaps.

Shuffling her feet, she quietly clears her throat. Just loud enough to be heard or not, hoping it doesn’t sound like a rude interruption and casual enough to be dismissed.

Her fellow watch guard bats nary an eyelash.

Eula sighs.

Guess she’ll have to be more direct in her approach if she wants any sort of reaction.

“So?” She begins, as nonchalant as she can. “Why, pray-tell, is the esteemed general and supposed right hand of Inazuma’s Archon out here in a freezing hall, guarding a sturdy enough door with a- not to be boastful, but- perfectly capable knight ensuring safety, as it is my assigned duty?”

Said general blinks, having been previously lost in thought and unable to catch much of what her companion had just asked.

“Pardon?”

Sara looks caught off guard, clearly not expecting this sudden conversation- brows knit together as she turns her focus to Eula.

Eula swallows her amusement, tries to remain professional-looking. Sara had cocked her head to the side, looking very much like a curious bird. Eula will never admit to it looking cute, not in front of the general, at least. She tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear before resting her gaze upon the impeccable posture of the foreign general.

“Why aren’t you inside with the rest of the representatives in the meeting? From what Gun- Mondstadt’s acting grand master has told me, alongside your ruler, representatives from each country’s administrative hand have been invited to join. That includes all notable and distinguished members of any noble family.” Eula clarifies as she straightens up from her position leaning against the doorpost, feeling somewhat conscious now that she has the ever-serious general’s attention.

Sara’s mouth stays in that same single line, unmoving.

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Trying to make small talk with someone possibly more stoic than even Rosaria or Diluc- wait. No.

Eula shakes her head. That would be an insult to the poor general.

She’s not one to abandon any mission she’s set out to do, but maybe Eula should give up on… whatever this is she’s started.

… except Eula Lawrence does not give up on anything.

She soldiers on, keeping any sort of creeping embarrassment shoved to the back of her mind.

“Ah, if you worry about not being able to speak much about these ‘forming connections’ affairs they claim to want to have, I’m sure I heard that this first night is supposedly only an informal dinner so that the representatives may acquaint themselves with one another.” She tries not to bitterly add that they sure are taking their sweet time in ‘getting acquainted’.

“Ah.” Sara blinks slowly, Eula’s words finally registering. She lets out a small cough, features relaxing somewhat. “My apologies, mila-“

“None of that now, General. Captain or Eula should suffice.” Eula cuts Sara off, making it perfectly clear that she wants no ‘madame’s or ‘milady’s reaching her ears. Not tonight. Not in this foreign land that feels much too alike to Mondstadt with Eula in it’s walls. Nothing oppressive, but somewhat alienating.

Actually, she’d like to hear it… not ever. The addresses feel too heavy a reminder of her upbringing and the reality they have wrought her.

“Reconnaissance Captain Lawrence.”

It was almost a lovely sound. Eula regards her title with a nod, pleased by the general’s compliance. Now that is a name she does not mind hearing forever. A testament to her own will and hard work-

Except that she’d have loved it more if her surname had been dropped, her roots forgone and buried in the dust. Still, Sara’s clear respect in how she regarded Eula forgave that thought.

“Yes, General?” Eula cannot help but smile as she feels the previously stiff atmosphere shift into something more cordial in a way that was comfortable instead of stifling as her usual noble-centric encounters have been.

Though without her own smile, the general looks like she shares the sentiment.

“As I was saying. You must be mistaken.” Sara’s eyes flicker toward the decorated carving of the wooden door before facing front once more. “I am not a representative.” She clears her throat. “Or at least, not when it comes to these matters. My eldest brother and I take care of military affairs while my other brother handles such sociopolitical issues.” Would it be fair for Eula to think that the general might be embarrassed?

“Hmmm.”

“I do admit I’ve had my fair share of negotiations with other parties, but…” Sara’s thoughts strive to not linger on her past meetings with one priestess of the resistance. “I believe it is best to leave this to the one more experienced.” She concludes, with another nod that Eula knows is Sara trying to convince herself more than anyone else.

“Like I said, this is only dinner.” Eula repeats pointedly.

Sara’s brows furrow some, a small frown of confusion on her lips as she regards Eula with a rebuttal of her own. “Then why are you out here, Captain Lawrence?”

“Whatever do you mean, General?” Eula replies, tone almost flippant.

“If my memory serves me right from my days of studying Teyvat history, is your presence not also required inside the dining hall?”

Eula’s laugh is boisterous, yet painful-sounding. Sara hides her wince, wondering why it is so.

“General Kujou, your memory may not be wrong, but it seems to have missed a few parts.”

Sara raises a brow, a silent ‘continue’ going unspoken.

Eula huffs, a mirthless smile replacing her equally joyless laughter. Why is she even entertaining the thought of sharing her history with Sara?

Well, whatever. It is a quiet night. Dull, even by her standards. The ‘meeting’ in the room has probably gone on some five to six hours. She might as well entertain herself with the general’s decent company and average listening abilities- or so she assumes.

“I’m simply here to guard the Acting Grand Master, the Heiress of the ‘Great and Noble Gunnhildr Clan’ as an attendant. A bodyguard, if you will. While Master Diluc Ragnvindr may also protect her, he is not of the knights and holds no responsibility nor duty to shield her from harm’s way. He himself is also a representative. And while I know so truly that the Dandelion Knight, Jean Gunnhildr can certainly hold her own…”

“I’ve heard stories, yes.” Sara hums in agreement.

“Yes, let’s just say it’s for formalities’ and image’s sake. That’s all there is to it.” Eula curses herself internally from chickening out, but she would like to think talking about your tragic past is not the best first impression out there.

“I… see.”

“Besides, no one would want a fallen clan’s blood, much less their now-bastard heir to represent their anything.” Eula shrugs, trying to sound as unbothered as she wanted them both to believe she was.

“Fallen... clan.” Sara echoes as the walls of the empty space do.

Silence reigns between them once more and Eula can’t help but think of how she’d love some wine right about now. She should have not stopped Rosaria from smuggling those few bottles into her pack.

“It may seem as though we hold similar reasoning, Captain Lawrence.” Sara regards her once more, breaking the quiet. Eula secretly loathes the flash of sympathy in her eyes.

Or is it empathy?

Only Sara can tell her. “I… my shame does not permit me to remain in the same gracious space as her excellency, nor can I face my loyal peers. Not… not with how my clan has done.” Tell her she does. “In a sense, it might be selfish of me to throw my own brother into the flames of scrutiny, however-“

Eula laughs, unintentionally interrupting Sara who again gives her that bewildered expression.

“You as well, huh?” Eula’s laughter dies down. She leans back against the wall as she heaves a weighted sigh, closing her eyes momentarily. She could almost fall asleep from how light she currently felt. The lightness that came with the knowledge that someone might finally understand you.

“Captain Lawrence-?”

“’Your clan and your past does not define you’“. It is said almost like a whisper, a prayer that Eula’s heart knows is too difficult to answer, for it to actually be true. “–The Acting Grand Master told me that.” She adds.

Sara nods slowly, simply listening, allowing Eula her time for what they both can feel is a much-needed release− a freedom from all the emotions she’s bottled up thus far.

“Yes, I agree. I agree with her words.” Eula speaks wistfully. Bitterly. “They certainly do not. Should not, but… the people around you try to.”

“People will always try to place their own definition on things they have yet to understand objectively.” Sara tells her. “I know I do. I think it is simply one way of getting to know and learn of the world.” She muses, though not without having to ignore the regret that digs into her heart as she tries not to remain in her memories.

“What a way to learn, huh?” Eula spits out.

A beat passes in silence.

Maybe this was the end to Eula’s little social excursion.

Whatever. She’s too tired to keep it up anyway-

“Pardon me if this may sound too personal, but…”

Eula wonders what Sara could possibly want to talk about. Did she want to dig deeper into Eula’s scars? Did she want a more specific description? Did she want something for future use against Eula? If so, she’d have to prepare some suitable venge-

“Are you and Mondstadt’s Grand Master possibly…” General Kujou Sara is surprisingly capable of blushing, Eula notes. “…ehem, uh… How shall I phrase this? Again, forgive me for being so brazen and assuming, but… are you… i-involved? By any chance?”

Oh.

Eula adds Sara to her long list of targets for vengeance.

Sara is still waiting for the response. Eula sighs, Eula smiles bittersweet, no words, but sara knows the answer.

What was the use denying it if even someone rumored as socially clueless as Kujou Sara could pick it up.

“I’ve heard you are similarly linked to the ever lovely Lady Kamisato.”

The esteemed General Kujou Sara of the Almighty Raiden Shogun coughs up a storm, choking red as she struggles to catch the pieces of her composure falling apart.

“I-I–!”

Eula almost laughs. Almost, if not for Sara’s sudden change in demeanor, eyes downcast as she seems to have organized her thoughts and returned to the reason for her initial inquiry.

Eula hadn’t thought it would be anything so heavy, so serious.

Maybe she should have known better when faced with the very embodiment of serious.

She doesn’t know how to respond to the next words that escapes Sara’s mouth in a rush.

“H-How does it feel to be together with one who is loved by all while you are… not so much liked, if not despised by those same masses?” Sara asks, keeping their conversation going, not knowing why she wants it so. Not knowing why she asks such questions. Her eyes widen a fraction when she realizes that maybe she should have not asked it at all.

Eula finds herself briefly flustered, her mouth possibly dropping had she no better self-control.

Sara asks such sensitive questions, and Eula hates that she has an answer to a situation she lives daily in truth anyway.

She adds another sigh to the count as she stirs her gaze away to one the Shogun’s random potted plants. “Wouldn’t you know the answer to that yourself?” She deflects, instead. “I take it we may have similar experiences, even in this regard.”

Sara pauses, thoughtful. “Perhaps.” Sara weighs. “Perhaps not. I, for one, can confidently say I do not particularly seek the affections of the Inazuman people…”

Eula could almost be jealous of that self-confidence.

“Just…”

“Just?”

Sara clears her throat, turning her eyes away momentarily as she cannot seem to admit to this truth facing the Lawrence girl’s gaze head on.

“I do confess to feeling… lonely… sometimes.”

Eula chuckles, a hollow sound, turning away from her possibly less-than-kindred spirit as she’d initially thought. “Is ‘sometimes’ an understatement like I believe it to be? Or do we differ in this regard as well–“

“Yes.”

Eula chances a glance back at Sara, surveying her form before training her eyes back to the front, staring at the empty hall they had been assigned to guard and wait at. “Hmm.” –Is all she responds to that.

Or it’s supposed to. But curse her tired mind, and desperation to be understood, heard, listened to- for her loose lips.

“I would say I sometimes feel jealous.” Eula softly admits. “How does it feel… for your efforts to be regarded, rewarded? How does it feel to get a pat on the back? How does it feel to be praised and accepted? Validated and seen…”

Her memories and emotions flow like a torrent of waves that threaten to wash away what little restraint she has on herself left.

“Captain…”

“When people’s eyes light up at the sight of you, children run up to you, wanting to hold your hand, offering you flowers and smiles, and-and warmth.”

Eula only ever knew the cold: a cold greater than that of the Dragonspine she’s been a constant in.

“How does it feel to be loved?” Eula grimaces at the crack in her voice, the weakness she’s allowed to slip through. But she has no strength to deny the dull aching of her heart, the painful thuds it subjects her to.

Sara remains quiet, and Eula does not dare look up to see whatever expression the general wears.

She suddenly squeaks as she feels an awkward weight- a hand- patting her on the back clumsily.

It’s unfamiliar, but Eula wants to welcome it fully.

General Kujou Sara is such an oddity.

“I’d like to know the answer to that as well.” She whispers, continuing her awkward display of comfort until Eula’s breathing has slowed, and she clears her throat, standing upright once more.

Sara retracts her hand and returns to her post as Eula fixes her appearance, swipes at the infuriating tears at the corners of her eyes.

“Thank you.” Eula mutters, a hint of shyness coloring her tone.

The general grunts in response, picking at her clothes, fixing the non-existent disorder they have.

“…It was the least I could do.” Sara speaks after a time. “I… when I… catch myself dwelling on such things, I’ve found that any sort of comfort is what I seek. Now, I know you may think of it as weak for a general with such a posi-“

“I do not.” Eula cuts in.

Sara blinks. “… thank you, then.” Sara fiddles with the sword strapped to her side for a bit, before speaking once more. “Ayaka-san, she– … ever since we became… l-lov… romantically… we”

“You can just say lovers.” Eula teases, noticing the tell-tale reddening of the Tengu General’s ears.

“Y-yes, that. Since we became l-lovers, or maybe even before that, Ayaka-san… she’s taught me much. About love, comfort, being accepted, being allowed to make a choice and live. Live, not as the shogun’s general, not as the Kujou-clan’s glorified weapon, but as me: Sara.”

Eula can’t help the smile on her face, happiness for her new comrade blossoming in place of her earlier sorrows.

“Amidst the stormy seas of Inazuma, she has become my dependable anchor. She has kept me grounded, sane. She has kept me hopeful, and… well, I’d like to say she’s kept me alive. Willing to be alive.” Sara has such a far-off look in her eye. One of adoration, love, gratefulness, respect… longing.

It's an expression Eula sees on herself, reflected on glass windows when she is out on ‘night patrols’ with Jean, when they know no one else in the world watches them- sees them.

And Sara and Eula both know that just behind their shallow envy is an understanding of the city. For who are they to not know of how much more difficult it is not to fall in love with the women who effortlessly catch all hearts by merely existing.

They’d be a hypocrite to say they could not grasp the notion.

They know it all too well.

Moreso than the rest of the world even.

The world should be envious of them instead. The ones who are loved by the loved.

“I also believe,” Sara continues, and Eula listens. “That though we may long for the same affections of those around us, we are also aware of the pressures they are subjected to? I, at least, see how exhausted Ayaka-san is after a long day of dealing with countless people, all who see hope in you and think you are their only chance of gaining help.”

“Mm.” Eula winces at a memory of a Jean ran ragged, a constant image that has been imprinted in her mind from the many times she’s encountered the disposition. “That is definitely one thing I would never be jealous of.”

“They work so hard, they strive and serve, and put their all in… how could I bring myself to deny Ayaka… how could I not want to assist her and aid her in her burdens?” Sara speaks in a relatable manner, Eula nodding along because it was the truth.

It was only fair that they earned and deserved all the adoration.

And How could Eula actually loathe Jean?

How could Sara not want to be in such the illuminating presence that is Kamisato Ayaka?

They were both as moths to flames so warm, so bright in their cold, dark worlds. Those flames would engulf them, embrace them, and lay to ash their sorrows and pains, even if it was for merely a night.

“I’ve always hated my upbringing. I’ve hated how life just decided that I was the antagonist to everyone’s story. I abhor fate and its law of turning me into an outcast when I had… When I have no part in its past.” Eula murmurs.

“If we were given the chance to start over our lives, in places far from this, in settings vastly differing… do you think we’d take it?” Sara muses. “To start anew? To maybe receive love from the start? To have grown in different circumstances?”

Eula ponders it for no longer than a second.

“As tempting as it sounds, I’d rather not take my chances.” She shares a grin with the general. “What if it means you don’t get to be with your lovely lady, after all?”

Sara smiles amidst her scoff. “I believe in fate. Soulmates.” Eula resisted the urge to tease her for that. “And even if they weren’t true, I know that I would still seek Ayaka. I would still love her as fervently and as loyally as I do now.” Sara’s words are a confession, a proposal so sincere, Eula can almost see the ring. “I would still dedicate all my affections, love, and adoration to her.”

“Consider me in awe, General.” Eula shakes her head in amazement. “Though I concur, wholeheartedly. I do not enjoy the history that torments me, but…” She leaves it to her companion to finish the rest.

“I guess, you could say… at the end of it all that…” Sara smiles a small thing, heartwarming as she wraps her fingers round the charm nestled safely in her pocket.

“That?”

“In my life where everything goes wrong, something finally went right.”

“Now there’s two less lonely people in the world?” Eula chuckles a second time that night, only that the sound is fuller, clearer… happier. “I never imagined you to be one who listened to such worldly tunes, General.”

“And I you, Captain.” Sara laughs quietly, eyes rising to the ceiling. “Some things just come unexpectedly, as I imagine you know.”

And then the door finally opens, and Eula sees two tired faces switch to beaming at the sight of her and the general. It sends a burst of melting joy in her icy heart as her arms fall around a waist that felt just like home, embracing her in her fulness.

She’s glad she took the chance to speak with the taciturn (adorably so) general. Maybe they could do this again next time.

And as Eula lays in bed with a bundle of dandelion-scented sun nestled into her bosom, she finds herself agreeing with Sara one last time for the night.

“I do know.��

A/N: DOONNEEE, OMG. I’ve had this idea living in my head for so long and just- I am nervous, honestly because it’s been so many MONTHS (idk If I’ve hit a year) of no writing. And needless to say, I have no confidence in this whatsoever. BUT. I need food. I need LPVE FOR EULA AND SARA LIKE YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND HOW MUCH I FEEL FOR THESE TWO. THEY MAKE ME CRY. Hope you all liked it ;-; and tune in to the next installment of this series. Whenever that is.

Teyvat Sad Girls’ Club Out.

Ciao~

~Shintori Khazumi

#genshin impact #fanfic #eula lawrence #kujou sara #ayasara #eujean #I WILL MAKE EULA AND SARA FRIENDS AND THIS IS MY NEW AGENDA #MY GRAND MASTER PLAN #JOIN ME #Teyvat Sad Girls' Club

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seasonal-writes · 1 year

Note

I uh. Got carried away 😅

4, 13, 17, 22, 35, 53?

-🍂

DON'T EVEN WORRY LEAF ANON YOU ARE KEEPING ME SO ENTERTAINED THANKS 4. Where do you find inspiration for new ideas?

ooOOh. um. so, probably other like, bits of stories? i also talk a lot about AU ideas with my best friend, so i get a lot of inspiration from them too! but i'd say music is a HUGE source. lyrics, sound, overall vibe. those are all big things that inspire new ideas. :) 13. what’s a common writing tip that you almost always follow? Sleep. On. Your. Drafts. I CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH. I am ALWAYS wanting to edit right after I have written up a draft that I've been working on in one sitting. But I am also the kind of person who does not see typos/issues within the writing if I've been staring at it for hours at a time, thus, i follow the idea of "stepping away" and coming back to it after a decent break. It helps me EVERY SINGLE TIME, without fail, in finding typos or other problems. Plus, it gives me time to re-think certain scenes that might've been an issue to write out when i was working on the draft. Writers, sleep on/step away from your fic drafts if you're struggling with them. or just in general. God. It is.. the best tip I can offer and follow religiously myself. 17. What do you do when writing becomes difficult? (maybe a lack of inspiration or writers block) haha, you mean like, right now? because it's not only midterms that's fucking up the golden rings upload schedule. writer's block is a BITCH. Honestly, the best thing I do for myself is take a break from the content. I specifically seek out other media/stories/whatever to think about, to kinda wipe the slate clean and prevent from overwhelming myself, if that makes sense? Usually it helps me clear my head and maybe even get re-inspired by looking elsewhere!

22. Are there certain types of writing you won’t do? (style, pov, genre, tropes, etc)

Oooh, um, let's see. I probably won't do first person now, unless I have to. I used to LOVE first person POV, but now it's not really my thing. Third person in all its forms, my beloved. I also actually just answered a poll about this, but one other thing I won't write (or read) is like, character x oc? I have nothing against it, no judgment here! But it's not something I personally see myself writing.

35. What is one essential thing to remember when writing a villain?

They have to be hot, next question- No WAIT I'm joking, okay. So, all realness? I don't really know?? This is a really great question but i have the SMALLEST experience in writing villains and I.. i genuinely don't really know how to answer that. If anyone has villain writing tips, though, let me know. I'll take 'em. 53. How do you spend your time when it comes to fanfiction? Are you primarily a fic reader, writer, or a perfect 50/50 split of both? I like to think I'm a 50/50, though I definitely spend more time writing than I do reading fanfic. Most of the fic I read is found through tumblr/sent to me/written by friends, because I am like. admittedly very lazy. and I do not scroll through ao3. I know, sue me! So, maybeee.. 60/40. :)

#thank you leafy pal! :D #seasonal-asks #leaf anon #seasonal-ask-games

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aluciahaz · 3 months

Text

I DELETED THIS ASK I THINK OR SOMETHING 💀

I ADDED IT TO SCHEDULE ON ACCIDENT AND IT DISAPPEARED 😭😭 WHOEBER YOU ARE ANON IF YOU SEE THIS IM SO SORRY !!! maybe my unfinished work will show up randomly tomorrow 😭😭 its literally just me freaking out on how much i loved your ask LMAOO

have ur fic as early as possible cause 1) your req slays and 2) i feel bad for it disappearing 😭

wait, sensitive!

—lucifer x gn!reader

—includes : riding, sub!lucifer, dom!reader, sensitive wings, nicknames like baby and babyboy, crying

you didn’t think much of it when you stroked lucifer’s wings as he sat as his desk, humming to yourself a quiet tune as he works on a new duck.

you thought it would be relaxing. after all, he doesn’t have his wings out all the time, surely they’d need to get a little massage here and there to work out some stiffness?

so you did so, your fingers gliding underneath and over the tufts of his soft feathers. you’d draw soft circles into his wings, massaging them carefully to not hurt him.

which, you realize slowly, was far from what you were doing.

you notice the way he would clench his screwdriver a bit too tightly, how he’d dig his heels into the wooden floor below him, and the way he’d sometimes drop his head down for a few seconds before bringing it back up, a slow exhale leaving him.

at first, you just thought he was getting really focused at intermittent points on his very important rubber duck project, but when your hands made their way to the base of his wings, that’s where things clicked.

“mm!”

you jump back, his back straightening instantly as his wings flutter outwards for a second before going back to their resting position, another sigh leaving him as he leaned over his desk, his hands running through his hair with his elbows on the table.

“lucifer? you alright, honey?” you ask, slightly concerned on what prompted such a sudden reaction.

“YEAH—yeah, i mean. ahem! yes. yes i’m fine, uh, thanks for asking, love,” he stammers awkwardly, his eyes darting to the side to look at you behind him briefly with an uncomfortable smile before going back to his work, readjusting himself in his seat.

“can i keep going then?”

“of cour—ngh!” he’s taken aback as you interrupt him by kneading your fingers into the base of his wings, raising your eyebrow at his somewhat intriguing noises.

“…i assume your are wings sensitive?” you inquire, a smirk slowly etching onto your face as you gently brush the tips of your fingers across his feathers, now noticing the quieter stifled noises coming from your lover.

“i—uhm. yes, a little. sorry i just—you know! you started randomly touching my wings out of the goodness out of your heart and i didn’t want to stopyoui’msorry—,” he turns over to you, his apologetic expression clear as he rambles on with his unnecessary explanation.

“shh, it’s okay, baby,” you hush him, moving his chair out of the way before pushing him further over his desk, making him scramble to get his project out of the way as you bend him over as he squeaks in panic. he didn’t want his new invention to get ruined!

“you really should’ve told me sooner though. i could’ve done so many things to you with this information, you know?” you whisper into his ear, your grin widening as one of your hands keep working on the base of his wings, making him whimper as your other hand finds its place on his hip.

well, until his unbound wing flutters out and almost hits you in the face.

you two decide to change positions after that.

and it certainly wasn’t a bad one. you now sat on the chair with him facing you on top of your lap, feeling up his wings as he arched his back in delight, now unabashedly letting his noises out.

“mm—there, ah! yeah, please,” he grinded against your thigh shamelessly as you made use of his sensitive wings, making him squirm and writhe so easily.

the red blush across his face seemed to compete with the natural ones permanently set on his cheeks. oh, if only he could see it. it would set him aflame in embarrassment.

“that’s my boy. keep grinding against my thigh like that and i’ll give you something nice,” you encourage him, kissing his now exposed collarbone and biting little marks into his pale skin, red blotches forming like ink on parchment.

of course, he listens to you. he’s yours after all. why wouldn’t he?

your treat for him is letting him ride you, messing with his wings until he’s a drooling mess. seriously, he really should’ve told you about this earlier. he was so beautiful like this, defiled and downright delirious for every touch you graced him with.

“so, so good. my baby boy, so perfect for me. like you were made to ride me. you were, weren’t you?” you murmur quietly as you thrust upwards, meeting his hips as they slammed down, desperate for more as he wailed, tears falling from his pretty illuminated eyes as he kept getting overwhelmed from all of the sensations pulsing through his body.

he needed this. your constant praise that filled his heart with pride, your steady thrusts that warmed and twisted his stomach in loops of sinful indulgence, and lastly your hands that weaved their way through his wings, each finger prodding and poking an area that was bound to send a shock of unholy satisfaction through his whole body.

not that he was holy to begin with, of course.

“m-may i cum? please—please let me cum, please!” he yelps, the movements of your hips getting faster and faster. he tries to keep up, beads of sweat falling from his brow as he exerts as much energy he has left to keep fucking himself on you.

“yes, you may, my love,” you coo. his hand finds his way on his cock, touching it just slightly before gasping from the sudden grip on his wings, harsh and rough and just the thing to set him off.

he collapses over you, his chin on top of your shoulder as you rub his back, sweet nothings leaving your lips with ease as you wait for him to compose himself a bit.

“good.. that was… we should do that more—oh!”

another moan flies from his throat as your squeeze the base of his wings once more, a smirk spreading on your lips. “really? i was thinking the same thing! how about now?”

and who is he to deny you?

i have to admit i did not reread this very well bc im tired but if there are any mistakes or repetitiveness just blame it on notes app ❤️ also i dont know how to @ people on tumblr apparently wtf 😭 why is this so hard HELP??

tags: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @drlucichen

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel dom reader #sub hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin lucifer #sub lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x reader #dom reader

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huenjin · 3 years

Text

domestic disturbance.

summary — there's a murder in the richest neighborhood of seoul and there's no better detectives to find the killer besides you and bang chan. or, in which you and chan have to be a pretend couple to catch a killer.

pairing — bang chan x reader

genre — fluff, crime, smut | detectives!au, fwb!au, fake marriage!au

word count — 21k words.

warnings — mentions of crime, ie, blood, killings, (one line of) gruesome murder scene, language, along with a whodunnit plot, mentions of cheating (not the main leads), and smut | smut specifications under the cut

smut specs. — established fwb!au where they know each other's limits already, dirty talk, praise kink, grinding, marking and hickeys, choking/asphyxiation, nipple play, breast play, sex in multiple places (on the table, against the wall, on the bed), blowjob, face fucking, deepthroating, cunnilingus, clitoral stimulation, cervical stimulation, edging, overstimulation, squirting, multiple orgasms, fingering, creampie, size kink. oh well!

note — this is part of the christmas collab i’m hosting with few other mutuals. i hated this fic and then fell in love madly with it, so yes, this is my baby. there is a plot and so it’s like 50% fluff, 30% crime and 20% smut, okay? i hope you enjoy this fic as much as i loved writing it! much love x

"Did I have to come in today?"

"Mayor Arsehole came in," you hear from the phone and you quickly hop off your bed, throwing the phone back on to the bed after putting it on speaker and rushing to the washroom to grab your toothbrush.

"What does he want now?"

You squeeze the end of the toothpaste carefully, pushing a good amount of toothpaste onto the bristles of the brush before shoving it into your mouth, brushing against the enamel of your teeth quickly and you rush back to your bed.

Chan, on the other end of the phone, plays with the pen on his table, clicking the piston on the top of the mechanical device. He watches the Mayor move his hands dramatically and the Captain trying to make the Mayor understand.

He gets back to you. Dropping the pen, he sits up straight, "Anyhow, come in quick. My gut tells me that they'll call us in, so make it quick. Wait—"

You rush back to the bathroom in a hurry, spitting into the sink and turning the tap on, quickly cleaning your mouth and your face, following a small skincare routine that fits your busy schedule.

"What?" You say after forever and Chan screams, "I knew it."

"Did you just wake up?"

"Yes," you respond, and pull your clothes up from your body and down by the side of the bed mindlessly.

"Holy shit," Chan laughs. "It's nine. Han's going to be so mad. He thinks you're in office already." You hear his chair reclining back and you roll your eyes. "Plus," his voice lowers and you stop in your tracks, hand midway to grab your faux leather jacket.

"What now?"

"I didn't even keep you occupied last night," Chan teases. "Imagine if I did."

"I'm hanging up, you bastard," you yell and Chan laughs, his laughter resonating through your small room and making you smile softly.

"Come quickly, little minx," and he hangs up. You hop back onto your bed, and pulling the pair of thigh high boots you always wear from underneath the wooden framing of the bed, you bury your feet into them and look at your phone.

Bang Christopher Chan is perhaps the only reason you are excited to go to work. That, and lying, murderous bastards.

Down at the station, twenty minutes later (still possibly the best record you've held so far), you rush into the office, heels clinking against the tiles and Chan's waiting for you by his cubicle, smirk prominent on his face and arms folded.

"The queen's here," he teases and you glare. Huffing as you pause right in front of him, you look over his shoulder to see the Mayor still talking to the Captain.

"I'm not late," you squeal, hitting the air in joy and Chan lets you have your moment before sitting back on his chair and breaking it.

"They called for us twice already," Chan tells you and you shudder at the impending doom. You can already feel Captain Han talking about cutting your paychecks for the month for tardiness. You sit on his table, one leg on the ground and the other dangling, heel slightly grazing Chan's black denims.

"What did you tell them?"

He picks up the pen and stares at you, clicking the pen. You narrow your eyes at him, staring at the pen and mumbling, "Stop that, Chan. I've told you it's annoying."

"I do it to annoy you. That's the whole point," he raises his eyebrows obviously and you click your tongue against him and move closer.

"Now," you press on. "What did you tell Ji?"

"Oh, that you have diarrhoea?"

"What the fuck?" And you bend forward, hitting the built man before you, your fists hammering down on his hard biceps and chest. "Why would you say that?"

Chan raises his hands in defense, trying to block as many of your hits as possible. He whines, laughing amusingly at your reaction. He holds your wrists quickly to halt your actions and tugging at them, pulling you closer, he raises an eyebrow, "What else am I supposed to say? That you didn't come in yet?"

You gulp, eyes widening in surprise at the sudden intimacy that you pull yourself away and sit straight, dangling your legs slightly. You tilt your head and look at him. Clicking your tongue in annoyance, you say, "Valid point you make there, sir."

"When have I not made valid points?" Chan leans back on his chair, arms folded and he looks at you intently, his eyes staring into your soul and you raise your eyebrows.

"Wh—"

"The two of you," you hear the voice boom through the room. Chan and you turn your heads to look at Captain Han Jisung pop his head through the slightly opened door and calling the two of you. "In my room, now."

"Uh oh," Chan mumbles under his breath as he stands up. "Someone's in trouble."

"It's probably you," you glare at him. Hopping off his table, you stand firmly on your boots, tapping your feet slightly in confidence. Chan walks forward and you take longer strides to keep up with him.

"It could never be me. I'm the district's star detective."

"When hell turns cold, yeah."

You and Chan step into Captain Han Jisung's office. He sits behind the wooden desk and Deputy Mayor Seo Changbin stands next to him. The glass walls behind him show a clear view of the beautiful city of Seoul. You smile as you proceed to sit before the Captain, leg on top of the other. Chan sits next to you.

The pictures from a file are scattered all over his table, facing the two of you and your hand instinctively reaches out to grab one. It's a man's body — gruesome enough with the blood that covers it — impaled brutally on the sharp fence spikes.

Chan's eyebrows shoot up and he coughs in surprise. He looks at Jisung with disdain for a short minute before he says, "That is totally not helping with my holiday spirits, Han."

"Captain Han," Jisung reaffirms as he looks at Chan with a glare and gestures at how he should show him respect at least in front of the Deputy Mayor. You chuckle slightly under your breath before putting the picture back on the table.

"What exactly are we looking at, Captain?"

Jisung clears his throat and bends forward to explain, "That is Kim Jihoon. Or at least whatever is left of him. He was found like this today morning by his neighbour. Apparently he fell three stories from his balcony. Kim Jihoon is a data analyst in Samaun Tech—"

"And more importantly, a model resident in the UN Village community." Changbin is stern and his eyes pierce into both yours and Chan's soul as if it demands the two of you to solve the murder right this minute.

"UN Village?" Chan's eyes narrow and your head turns so quickly to look at him. Does he know of the area? "That's the new gated community down in the city, right?"

Changbin scoffs, smirk plastered on his face as he looks away. "Yes, Detective. It's one of the most luxurious communities in Seoul. I'm sure you wouldn't know anything about it."

"Hey—" You raise your voice to come to Chan's defense. However, the man is quick himself.

"Oh, I'm pretty sure I have an idea what it is like. Just a bunch of rich old men sitting with their glasses of wine as they are locked away from the city's woes by their big high walls. I have watched enough Sky Castle."

You laugh, eyes wrinkling in mirth as you hear Chan take offense. You raise your hand up and your partner claps at it, laughing with you. Changbin scoffs again before turning to look at Jisung who clears his throat to stop the two of you from laughing and to bring your attention back.

"I've brought the two of you in here because you will be investigating the death of Jihoon."

"But—"

"It's Christmas in a few days!"

"We're not in office, Ji," you whine. "Felix and Soojin would be taking our shifts for that week. You gave us the permission after the last case. Don't you remember?"

"Is that how much you care about the citizens?" The mayor shoots at the two of you and for a minute, you cower in your seat, before Chan looks at you worriedly as you recoil.

"Hey, hey, hey," his eyebrows furrow together in anger at the Mayor and you worry if Chan's going to completely lash out. He never did like Changbin in the first place. That and now this and you know this could end bad. "We care enough about the citizens. But look at you. The Mayor comes down personally to hand in a case only when it's some rich community. What? Do you have an apartment there?"

"While you think this highly of me, I can't help but humble myself here," Changbin slams his fist down and Chan rises up. Uh oh! The Mayor edges forward as he continues, "I am very much concerned about the city as well."

"Please," Chan rolls his eyes. Jisung is about to pipe in and stop the conflict when Changbin continues proudly.

"I'll have you know that the UN Village is one of the most exciting residential areas to live in, in Seoul and is one of the most beneficial developments made in a decade here. If it is successful, I can drive almost millions to the city through estate taxes and commerce. And must I remind you of how that is the biggest point in my political agenda—"

"Your political agenda!" Chan is at his patience's end and your arm stretches out to grip at his shirt, to pull him back from fighting but your partner is so caught up in his anger that he doesn't feel you pull at him. "Must I remind you that you are still the Deputy Mayor!"

"Stop it, both of you!" Jisung slams his hands on the table and you let out an exasperated sigh as you sit up straight. "This is a murder and I won't have the two of you argue over here. Deputy Mayor Seo, if you are done conveying what you came here for, I will have to ask you to leave. I need to talk and assign work to my detectives."

"Absolutely," Changbin smiles widely — almost borderline fake — before walking away and reminding Jisung, "I hope you remember what I asked of you, Captain." He bangs the door shut and Jisung mumbles incoherent words under his breath. Needless to say, it was safe to presume they were words hoping good will for Deputy Mayor Seo Changbin.

"Now the two of you," Jisung points at both Chan and you. He gestures at the built man to sit down. "You will be taking this case up. I will not have a word against it."

"But—"

"Unless you want your sex tape to be released and the two of you want to be suspended for indecent public behaviour."

"What?" Both you and Chan tell at the same time, looking at each other in nothing but sheer confusion and shock at the same time. It was clear that you and him have not made a sex tape or publically — fuck. Unless it is that.

"I mean, I was definitely not interested in seeing my star detectives getting on with each other in the evidence room." Jisung raises his eyebrows.

"Are you blackmailing us, Han?" Chan's tongue prods at his inner cheek in frustration. Today was supposed to be a good day, so he wonders why things are going down the hill.

"I guess." He lifts an eyebrow at you and you click your tongue before leaning forward and taking the picture.

"Fine. I'm in."

"I don't mind getting a copy of the sex tape," Chan mumbles and you hit your partner with your elbow over his nonchalance. You are not going to get suspended. It was too much for your reputation.

"Good," Jisung smiles. You stare at the picture carefully, looking at how the sharp spikes of the fence pierces into the man's abdomen, pinning him to the fence. Chan is about to take the picture from your hand when you ask,

"This could be an accident."

Chan takes it and looks at it before nodding, "Yeah. You know how rich drunk people are. They might have partied too hard and stumbled and fallen off their balcony."

"I thought that," Jisung mumbles before searching through the pictures. He lifts one off the table and hands it to you. "Until I was informed that this is the second murder UN Village has witnessed in less than a month."

The photo Jisung hands you is of a woman. She lies face down, her stomach pierced through by the sharp spikes of the fence — a bloody contrast to the fresh greens in her yard.

"Why am I celebrating my holidays like this?" Chan groans, as he leans towards you, his arms touching yours. He looks at the pictures and then at you for a short while as he watches you observe the photo carefully. The gears in his head are turning and his emotions are an array of mess but he reminds himself to focus on the case in hand. That is exactly what you would have wanted him to do.

"She's Yoon Yerin, who lived just up the street from Kim Jihoon. She was found like this two weeks ago." Jisung points out.

"Can't still label murder, Han. As Y/N said, it could be just an accident. They could be drinking red wine and partying, screwing each other on balconies. Hell, I'm surprised that only two have died so far."

You suppress your amusement and look at Jisung who explains, "I thought the same as well, detectives. The possibility exists—"

"Heh," Chan lifts his lips slightly and nudges you, almost as if he is telling you that the two of you have lesser work to deal with.

"—but there is also a chance of an exceptional clever murderer behind all this. So please," he turns to look at both you and Chan with an extra intimidating glare, "Look at this case with an open mind."

"You've our word," you smile widely, keeping the photos back in the file.

"Thank you," the Captain looks comforted. "I cannot hear more from the Mayor, I swear to God. Now, you'll go into UN Village and investigate these deaths as soon as possible."

"And?"

"If there is a murderer, you must identify him as discreetly as possible and if these are just accidents, uhm," Jisung clears his throat, rubbing the back of his head, "We'll just put out a notice in talks of their safety, I guess."

Jisung stretches back in his chair, folding his arms and looking at the two of you proudly, "You guys are the best darn detectives we've got."

"Of course," Chan sneers. "Why else would you take our breaks away using some sex tape as some kind of blackmail? You're a nasty captain."

"He'll be forever salty about this, huh?" Jisung raises an eyebrow at you.

"Nah," you chuckle. "He's secretly overjoyed about being able to work during the holidays."

"As if!"

"We could just go now and investigate—"

"No, you cannot." Jisung sighs. "This is where I'm kind of helpless. The Deputy Mayor specifically mentioned how we are not allowed to poke around, cause chaos and make a scene."

"What? Why?" Chan slightly shifts in his chair, in agitation.

"It'll draw the media in like vultures."

"So?" You furrow your eyebrows. Why does this smell rotten?

"So, the two of you will go in under cover." Jisung smiles. "I doubt it would be an issue for the two of you."

"Undercover? Undercover as what?"

Twenty fours hours later, you are here.

A large group of suburbanites are gathered on a perfectly sculpted front lawn. They stand around the stainless steel barbeque rack and are talking. You gaze further, your back pressed against the big lorry that carries furniture to furnish the new house.

"I can't believe we're doing this," Chan sighs. He helps the man take out the sofas from the lorry. His biceps bulge and you smile, eyes lingering for a minute on the vein that is prominent over it.

"Please," you laugh, head thrown back. "When I said I wanted to get married, you were there in the list, yes," you tilt your head and snigger. "But you were definitely not my first candidate."

"Lies," Chan teases. "I was your only other candidate, work being the first."

"Don't make me throw this chair at you."

Chan laughs, taking the chair from your hand and walking back in to settle it down onto the floor. Your head shifts back to look at your new neighbours, two of them waving at you and making their way to you. Chan comes out of the house right then, watching the two walk towards you.

Chan bends down to the side to whisper to you, "Do we have to go speak to them? I—"

"Of course. We can't be rude to them."

Chan holds onto your arm, whining like a little child, "But why? I hate rich people."

"Because I'm your wife now," you scrunch your nose at the title. "Listen to me and go with the flow. Just remember that you're Bang Chan, leading specialist in maxillofacial surgeries, hoping to start over in this area of the city—"

"And you're my beautiful wife, my other half, Y/N," he lifts your hand after entangling them with his, your silver ring bright on display and he takes a step forward.

"Now let's go, honey!"

The other couple walks towards the two of you simultaneously, stopping midway upon reaching you. You tilt your head, shifting your gaze to a softer look as you look at the couple, before clutching onto Chan's hand a little tighter.

"Hi, I'm Y/N and this is my husband, Chan. We just moved right next door."

The tall man with a hair messy on top of his head smiles, although it seems very superficial. Yet again, Chan did mention how rich people could never smile sincerely. He tells you, stressing every alternate syllable, "It's so nice to have you here, Y/N, Chan. We are so glad you could shift right before our Annual Holiday Barbeque."

He stretches his arms out towards Chan. Your partner heaves a huge sigh in silently before holding his hand and giving it a firm shake. The other man continues, "I'm Park Rowoon, the president of the local homeowners' association and this beauty here is my wife, Jieun."

Jieun's face contorts into a huge, gleaming and completely insincere grin. She holds onto her husband's bicep, fingers digging into the flesh, "Well, isn't he a dear?" She laughs high pitched. "It's so nice to meet you." She rushes forward to hug you, her arms wrapping around your frame and giggling into your frame. You hug her back, albeit awkwardly, laughing slightly at the gesture.

On the other hand, Rowoon extends his arms out to take Chan's hand in for a shake. The hand holds his, and squeezes it hard enough to hurt as he raises an eyebrow at him. Chan jolts in surprise, trying to squeeze back as he grits his teeth.

You pull back from Jieun and notice the two males holding each other's hands so tightly that it has turned pale. Chan does not seem to back out and rather squeezes back further every single time Rowoon's grip on his tightens. That is, until the older male pulls his hand back and looks at Chan, after shaking his hand a little bit, flexing it.

"You okay, baby?" Jieun rushes to her husband's side, and wrapping her arms around his, she just out her lower lips and looks at him with a dazed and madly-in-love look, "Are you hurt?"

"Nah," he pulls at the dead skin of his lips. "Just the old carpal tunnel acting up. Age, right?" He laughs, locking a fixed gaze at Chan and you quickly rush to his side, locking your arms with his as you laugh.

"Definitely. Don't worry about it. You still look as young and charming as ever."

Rowoon laughs before asking you, "So you're shifting right next door, huh?"

"Yes!" You lift up your lips a lot more than when you usually smile. "Did you see our moving truck? It was quite immediate but I'm glad. This society is so good and just right enough to start a family together." Chan's eyes widen and he looks down at you, nostrils flaring in surprise as he chokes on air. You stand on your toes, kiss his cheek before settling down and smiling at the couple before you. "I desperately want to."

Family? With you? Fuck.

"Y-yes," Chan's breath hitches and he gets the word out. He'd be down to start a family with you but how could he even suggest a relationship when you just look at him like a friend? A friend who you can come to when you're needy and sexually frustrated.

"My husband's very observant. He saw your truck the other day itself!" Jieun exclaims proudly.

Chan's eyebrows shoot up as he stares at the man. He doesn't already like him and one more wrong step and he is ready to pin some crime down on him. Rowoon is flattered by his wife's comment.

"I do like to keep a close eye on the neighborhood. After all, vigilance is the first step in ensuring a beautiful and safe community. Talking about which, I couldbt help but notice that you have a bird feeder."

Rowoon stares hard at the wooden bird feeder behind the two of you. Chan and you turn to look at and he laughs. You look proudly at it. A heirloom – almost – of yours, Chan (and Jisung) agrees to let you bring it with you. (They agreed to it when you explained how your neighbors hated you and they would harm it the minute you left sight of it for a long time.) You look at Rowoon with eyes so bright as you begin to explain. Your partner, on the other hand, arms still locked with yours, looks at you with stars beneath his eyes and you are responsible for them. It's admiration. Sheer, peak admiration.

"It's an antique, you know. My grandfather carved it himself out of—"

"Yeah, great, that's lovely." Rowoon cuts you off and the smile disappears off your face, your eyes losing their shine. Chan clutches his fists in anger, head shooting back to face the stupid old man for making his wife mad — his partner sad. The old man continues, "The thing is wooden bird feeders are against the UN Village Homeowners' Charter."

"They are?" You look back at the wooden bird feeder. You bite on the lower lip to hide your disappointment, eyes squeezing shut to hold yourself alright.

"I'm afraid so." You turn your head back to look at him. Chan quickly unlinks his arms from yours and you look at him, worriedly. Was he going to start a fight? Please, God, no. You glance in worry till he interlocks his fingers with yours as he holds your hand tightly. The warmth seeps through you and your lips pucker unknowingly at how comforted you feel.

Rowoon continues explaining, "They tend to give off a country farmhouse vibes and aesthetic which is not exactly what we are going for."

"I'm sor—"

Chan clicks his tongue, preventing you from apologising. He pulls you towards him, a little bit closer than the two of you already were. Your partner glares at the man before huffing out loudly and saying, "You run a pretty tight community here, Rowoon, don't you think? Respect the rules or you're out." Rowoon stiffens upon hearing the words before Chan laughs, stretching his other arm out to pat his shoulder. "I'm kidding. Just kidding."

Jieun steps in right then to smoothen out the tension as she claps her hands together, laughing, "Aren't the two of you the cutest? Are you newly weds or?"

"Yes. I mean, it's been a year, but being married to her feels like falling in love all over again for every single day of my life." Chan locks his eyes with you and you gulp. The words hit deep, so deep that you know you shouldn't be fluttered, or flustered. This is Chan. He couldn't be serious.

"Ah, so cute," she squeals. Rowoon looks at his wife with a raised eyebrow before looking at the two of you again.

"Listen. I've to go check on the grill and grab something to eat. You should swing by later tonight and meet the rest of the members of the society. I'm sure they'll love you."

"Of course. We do want to finish a bit of the moving in and stuff today and maybe put up the Christmas decorations soon, but we'll be there. Guaranteed." Chan tugs at your hands to pull you back. You nodded and waved at Jieun.

"Bye!"

Chan quickly rushes you back into the house before finally letting out a huge sigh. He runs a hand through his hair before letting his back hit the door. You look at him and giggle lightly into your hand.

"Don't laugh," he glares. "I swear to God, if I have to spent more time talking to Rowoon—"

"You're doing so well, idiot," you laugh, throwing your head back. "We just need to dig in a little bit, talk a lot and confirm that these were accidents."

"Y/N, baby," You breathe slowly upon hearing the term. A sure endearment that Chan has always used but for to hear it roll out of his mouth in places this homely felt different, made you feel different. "If I have to spend more time with Rowoon, I will come up with another theory and it would probably be a suicidal one."

"Don't screw this up, yah!" You hit the back of his head. "The last thing I want is a suspension just because I was caught fucking you in the evidence room."

"Like you didn't enjoy it," Chan leans forward, nose brushing against yours almost. You can feel his breath fanning against your face and the temperature rising. Your hands are firm on his chest before you push him back, fanning yourself with your hand. You tie your hair up into a ponytail before pointing at the boxes by the side of the door.

"Get to work, husband. We don't have time to waste."

"The pepper next to the salt, Chan. Why would you put turmeric there?"

"You'd be one whiny arse motherfucker for a wife," he groans and angrily shuffles the bottles in their right order. "Why are we even arranging all this? Let's just wrap this up in like two days and go celebrate Christmas back at the station."

"I'm not going to take risks. It's Christmas. I celebrate every single Christmas," You mumble. "At least the bare minimum. And if this Christmas has me celebrating it with you, I will. I will give you the best Christmas ever."

"I don't celebrate Christmas, Y/N."

You place the cutlery in the shelves. You leave the kitchen after finishing every single arrangement of the same. Chan follows you into the main living room. You stop in your tracks when you hear Chan say the words and you turn, eyes shooting up.

"Why?"

"Mum left dad in winter. Didn't feel right to celebrate Christmas when she was at home. It's a bitter memory for her, you know?" You nod, eyes looking at him with understanding rather. He sits down, lifting his legs up and stretching it over the table. Your eyes widen and you narrow at his legs.

"Feet. Off. The. Table." You glare.

"Why?"

"Because it's disgusting." You groan. You sit down by his side once he puts his feet off the table, huffing at you. He turns to look at you and you respond finally.

"Do you, maybe, want to celebrate Christmas with me this year?"

Chan's a romanticist (though he wouldn't ever admit it). He believes in how destiny is meant to unite two people like one magnet for another, one jigsaw piece matching just another. He also believes that you are something special to him because his mind worries over you, his heart gravitates to you in a crowded room.

Felix told him that it's probably just sheer concern for his longest partner ever. That your heart tends to feel weird stuff for people that protect you, for people that take bullets for you.

But today, right now, when you tilt your head to the side, resting it on your arm as you wrinkle your eyes in mirth and ask him, his heart skips a beat. Maybe two. He is lost in his thoughts, emotions on an overload and he wonders if you would ever see him in a different light.

"Chan?"

He snaps out of it. He laughs, almost at himself, as he runs his hand through this hair. "Do I have an option? Han made sure our Christmas would be stuck here."

"I'm the best option you have, dude. That, or it was you and your can of beer and your football marathon."

"Maybe."

You still, your head lifting up to look at him. Chan looks at you like he has so much to say to you, so much stuff that conflicts within him but words he would never say out loud. You wish he could. Your head turns to the small Christmas tree inside the house — bare, empty and green. The one extra along with the big one outside every house in the UN Village.

"We could start by decorating that. Yeah."

You hop off the sofa and rush to take the decorative goods from the suitcase. All on command from Captain Han Jisung, courtesy of the very same man who bought so many of the decorations. Chan turns his body, arms folded on the head of the sofa as he watches you scramble in search of something.

You take the decorative items out from the suitcase, putting it by the side as you search for something. Chan walks towards you, squatting as he watches you look before he holds your wrist and halts your actions.

"What are you searching for? I could help you."

"It's this bluetooth speaker I thought I brought," you shake Chan's grip away before undoing the zip on the other side of the suitcase. "I really thought I brought it. Shit."

"Hey, hey," Chan sits on the floor as he watches you. "It's alright. You can put whatever you want to put on the speaker. It'll be loud enough for the two of us."

You turn to look at him, before falling back on your ass and sitting. You fold your arms around your knees close to your chest and you smile, "You don't mind me blasting Christmas Carols during tree decoration time, right?"

Chan laughs at your innocence. Something so soft, so pure about it, about how you loved Christmas so much. He wants to hold you close — oh so close — the need almost overcomes him but he holds back.

"I don't mind."

"Yay," you squeal, getting back on your feet and rushing to your phone on the table. "I have this collection of Christmas Carols that we primarily put every year–" Chan watches you scroll through your music library to find the collection and he knows you have when your whole face lights up like the goddamn star on this awfully green tree. "Tada, it starts with my favorite carol, Deck The Halls."

Chan's never understood the hype around carols but for you, he will try today. You increase the volume to the highest, and place the phone back on the table before rushing back to Chan and the suitcase. Your partner takes the fairy lights in his hand and lifting it up, he looks at you quizzically.

"How do you go about this?"

"There's no right or wrong way, Channie. Trust me. We are all swinging it and hoping that it turns out right," you reassure. You take the fairy lights from his hold and stand up. "I can show you what my family does." You walk to the tree, about a good amount of inches taller than you still.

The carol plays in the background like some beautiful serenade wrapping around the two of you. Chan stands a step behind you watching you carefully wrap the fairy lights right around the inside bark of the tree and plug it in to the extension box by the side. The white lights flickered bright and shine on your face that is close to the tree.

Chan stares. He can't pull away. You hold his breath, captivate his gaze and have him completely enthralled. Your eyes sparkle — hell, you sparkle more than those stupid fairy lights.

He is so charmed by you that he doesn't realise how you've been trying to catch his attention for a while.

"Chan?" And then you hit his arm, the whole police academy teaching style. "Focus, will you?"

"Fine," and he takes one of the christmas ornaments, hanging them up on one of the spikes. "Is this how it is?"

"You're doing so well, don't worry."

And with the carols in the background, the two of you slowly put the ornaments up, laughing occasionally at Chan wearing the ornaments by hanging them on his ears instead. Another set of fairy lights are draped perfectly over the tree. The stockings are hung by the side and everything is exactly as you remember Christmas decorations to be inside and you realise it's not much different from the Christmases you usually have.

The tree is there. The lights are there. The desserts will be coming. The memories are still made and your loved one is still here. Nothing is different.

"Help me hang the star up," you look at Chan. He tilts his head to the side and his eyes fix on the battery operated star in your hand.

"Did Jisung really give us all that?"

You nod, "Yeah. He told us to sell the story well. Apparently movies lie and that rich people are not all that dumb."

"You sure?" Chan sniggers. "That dude we met there seemed pretty dumb if he wouldn't even let you keep your bird feeder over some stupid aesthetics."

"Don't remind me," you groan. "Now, come here and hold me up." You stretch your arms slightly and Chan's trying his best not to giggle at how cute you looked in the minute.

His hand is warm against your sweater, heat seeping through as he lifts you up, grip strong on your waist. Your legs intuitively wrap around his torso to protect yourself and you stretch your arms out. You try placing the star above and Chan edges closer to the tree when he knows he's a bit far off. You finally place it successfully above and switch it on. It lights up pretty and your heart warms up at the joy of completing the tree decorations.

And then, Chan suddenly jolts you up in his hold. You fall forward, arms wrapping around his neck and face brough so close to his that you can see the sparkle underneath his eyes that glisten for you. You stiffen in his hold as he wraps his arms around you tighter and in the very next minute, Chan's lips have found yours.

It's soft and gentle as it moves against yours, taking your lower lip within seconds. In that kiss was the sweetness of passion and the reconfirmation of million memories spent together. It moves so gently against his plump ones that you know you're drowning in everything Bang Chan is and that it's creeping — he is creeping slowly into your veins and contaminating your being to a point where it would hurt to live without him.

Chan holds you tightly against him, holding your entire weight in his arms like you are his whole world. His hands squeeze your waist as if he is reminding himself that you are still here with him, sharing this holiday with him. And when Chan pulls back, you realise.

In his kiss, you are home.

"Why did you—" You barely manage to piece words together with the help of your clouded brain. "Uhm, why did you kiss me?"

Chan blushes. The apples of his cheeks heat up at the sudden question and it surprises him how he could still blush at you after all this while. He looks behind you, trying to stall away some time from answering until his eyes land on the creeping mistletoe with white buds around.

"Mistletoe!"

"What?"

"Behind you," Chan points, holding you up with one arm wrapped around your waist. "There!" You turn to look behind, one arm still around his neck while the other is by your side.

"Oh, it's a mistletoe." You blush and look down at how Chan holds you up. "You could put me down now, Chan."

"Oh yeah." And he slowly lowers you down onto the ground. His cheeks are still stained slightly before he rubs his fingers, fidgeting with it and finally exclaiming, "Ah look at the time. We've got to get ready for taht barbecue shit they are hosting." He turns you around and pushes you to the room the two of you are sharing. "Hurry!"

You laugh, head still dazed over the kiss. It goes back and repeats it over and over again till you feel the temperature in you shoot up and has you wanting emotionally so much more.

After all, this was the first time Chan has kissed you like that and it did not end with sex.

The smell hits your nose before anything else. The smell of fresh beef being roasted and the toxic smell of rich people partying. Although you cannot quite exactly explain how rich people smell if someone asked you. They just smell. . . rich.

Dammit. Now you'll associate this fine rich smell of first class beef with stupid rich people.

"At least it's good meat." You mumble.

"That's what she said," Chan laughs at his own joke. You open your mouth in disbelief, nudging him with your elbow. Across the lawn, by the pool side of Jieun's lawn, you see her and a couple of other ladies waving at you to come towards them.

"I'll have to go over there. Anyhow, get as much as information as you can, alright?" You turn to look at Chan before walking backwards. "I'll come over soon once it gets too nauseating for me, please."

"Sure," he waves at you and you turn around and walk as elegantly as possible to the posh ladies sitting there. Chan, on the other hand, decides to head to the group around Rowoon that almost look like a bunch of Mayor Arseholes to him.

You walk towards Jieun who is sitting a hot tub. The hot tub bubbles and you raise an eyebrow at the amount of wealth this family has amassed over the years. A table full of snacks rests under a nice canopy and a very intoxicated lady sways from the left to the right by the side of it.

"Sookyung-ah," Jieun waves at the inebriated female, "Meet the newest member of our little neighbourhood, Y/N."

Sookyung is loud. So loud that you wonder maybe Chan is right about rich people — that they drink, merry and party all day long. She waves her hands, eyes blinking a little too much as she welcomes you, "Nice to meet you! Have a drink!"

She shoves a big glass of brownish looking liquor that reeks of rum. You take a sip of it courteously. The liquid flows down your throat, the burning feeling distinct on your throat. Your eyes wrinkle in surprise, "That's strong, whoa."

"Of course, darling, it is," she smiles widely and it should have repulsed you. However, it is the only genuine smile you have found in this whole neighborhood so far. Sookyung continues, "How else are we supposed to get through the day?"

"Is this how it usually goes?" You laugh nervously. "Us girls sneak off to grab a drink while the boys beat the chests out at front?"

"Ooh," Sookyung gushes. "I think I'm going to like you a lot, darling."

Jieun takes a sip of her orange coloured cocktail as she circles her glass lightly, letting the liquid shake inside. You tilt your head backwards, staring up at the stars only to notice how it is a full moon tonight. A soft smile spreads across your lips as you think of the one person you associate with the moon; your partner.

Jieun leans forward after placing her drink back on the table. She nudges Sookyung and raises an eyebrow at you, "Sookyung-ah, did you see her husband?"

You blush at the term. This will take a while to get used to. "Was he the tall, broad shouldered guy in the suit?" She hums in approval and your eyebrows furrow downward in displeasure. "Talk about a prime cut of meat!"

"I know, right?" Jieun giggles. "I saw him and started to drool."

Your cheeks heat up ridiculously. You can feel your heart beating a lot quicker and it is a weird sense of pride that swells up within you over a man you can't even completely call yours now. You fidget with your fingers, black dress riding up your thigh as you shift in your seat nervously, "I guess Chan is a good looking man."

"Chan? Is that his name?" Sookyung laughs, "That's an understatement of the year. I would wish to strip him down, slather him up with butter and just eat him up." Your face couldn't help but morph into one of disgust at her words. At this point, you are borderline disturbed.

"That's, uhm, very vivid thoughts you have of my husband."

"Ah, dear," Sookyung leans forward and holds your hand, rubbing it in her grip. "We were joking. But you must tell us—"

Jieun breaks her and smiles so wide as she looks at Sookyung, grinning and then at you, "What is he like in the sheets?"

They laugh together and you look at the two of them. So this is what a rich bunch of ladies too. Gossip and talk unfiltered. You had only two options at this point, or maybe three — a) stay quiet and let them do the talking, b) tell them off for talking about Chan this inappropriately, c) talk with them and get more information under the guise of being one amongst them. You swear to the heavens that you would rather do option b, but for the sake of this crime, you decide to do what Captain Han Jisung would have told you to follow.

"He's a fucking tiger," and you laugh the fakest laugh you could ever pull out, albeit not because Chan wasn't good in between the sheets or anything (he was an almighty beast with his technique, yes) but because you never thought you'd live to see the day you'd use words like that, in any situation at all.

"Called it!"

"Tell us everything!"

You take a sip of your drink and cross your legs as you sit up straight, almost feigning arrogance, "I'm not one to kiss and tell but let's just say that Chan makes me very happy about," you grin and pause, trying to catch the ladies' attention on every single word of yours, "Twice a day or so."

"Twice a day?" Sookyung gasps.

"If he's just very much in the mood, I know I'm not going to walk for days together. Not that that is an issue. Chan is the sweetest and takes care of me," you flutter your eyelashes.

Jieun taps at her chest, huffing, "Be still my beating heart. Be still."

Sookyung sighs, stretching back on the reclining chair, "These days, Ilsung and I get it on like once a month or so and that's like for a minute. How disappointing."

"They are newly married, Sookyung," Jieun stilts her head in acknowledgement. "It's been a year of their marriage or so." She takes a bite of the cookie from the plate by the side and you smile as she looks at you.

"It seems like you're all pretty open in this neighborhood," you point out and twirl a strand of your hair that lets loose before your eyes.

"Oh we share everything," Jieun says and Sookyung scoffs, before picking up a cookie and her strong drink.

"Some more than others." She scowls so visibly that Jieun has to furrow her eyebrows at her and signal something with her gaze before Sookyung looks away to the right.

The backdoor of the house behind opens and you turn to look at a lanky woman walking in with a tray of cookies. It is the same one that you have on the table already and you look at her. The glow on her face is long gone, her eyes losing the sparkle and you wonder if she is going through something.

Sookyung frowns and mumbles under her breath, albeit a bit too loudly, "Great. This party suddenly took a sip into Depressionville now."

You lean back into Jieun and mumble, "Who's that?"

Jieun leans into you and is about to whisper when Sookyung runs her mouth free, "That's Somin. An absolute downer."

You bite your lip out of anxiety, surprised by how Sookyung really does run her mouth a bit too much — a lot enough to cancel her off your list of suspects almost. Jieun hisses at the other woman before telling you, "Her husband was Kim Jihoon and he died yesterday so," she clears her throat, "She's quite rattled, to say the least."

"Then shouldn't she be mourning at her husband's house or funeral home for a few days? The fact that she's already here seems so crass." Sookyung shakes her head, disappointed. You gulp and watch the woman, Somin, come closer and Sookyung, folding her arms tighter.

The minute Somin is in your periphery though, both Jieun and Sookyung smile so brightly and that's when you realise that nothing you see and nothing you hear could be trusted here. It's the world of the rich and everyone wants to come out on top.

"It was so nice of you to come out," Sookyung waves and calls her closer. Jieun nods and you see how she walks slowly towards them, a sad smile on her face and her tray held strongly.

Somin speaks softly, almost as if she should not, "I probably should have stayed inside." She holds out her tray as she stretches her arms outwards. On the tray are many round cookies with cracked lines on their surfaces, a bit too deep than normal. They look sad. Just as their maker does.

You wait for the other two women to do something and when they take a piece of cookie, you follow suit and take one. The distinct taste of cinnamon fills your mouth and you hum in approval even if the cookie wasn't the best out there, "Ah, these snickerdoodles taste good!"

"Thanks, but you don't have to flatter me," she looks at you with a face close to no expressions whatsoever, "Whoever you are."

"Somin, this is Y/N. She's new to our neighborhood," Jieun says and Sookyung adds, "And she clearly knows her cookies."

"Thanks," you hesitate. "I do bake from time to time." And taking another piece of the cookie, you tell them excitedly, "Did you know that Snickerdoodle is derived from the term Schneckennudein, which literally means snail noodle?"

The three other ladies stare at you, blinking at what you just said in utter disarray and you sigh.

"I meant," You take a bite of the cookie, "Great cookie!"

"Yeah, great cookies, but," Jieun starts and Somin looks at her, pressing her lips together.

"But?"

"I said that I would be the one to make the snickerdoodles, but it's alright. We can have twice as many and can give some to our husbands partying over there. No worries."

"Oh, okay, I'll have to go," and she scurries away quickly. She barely shuts the door as she rushes out of the place almost immediately, her hair flailing behind her. You watch the woman, analysing how no one in the party seemed bothered by it.

Jieun sighs, "She looks bad, doesn't she?"

"If you ask me," Sookyung speaks loudly once again and you already know she's going to run her mouth, "She's better off with Jihoon dead. You should have heard the way the two of them used to fight."

"Were Somin and Jihoon having marital troubles?" You ask.

"Definitely," Sookyung leans forward, "If by marital trouble you mean continuous screaming matches blasting across the entire neighbourhood, why then yes!"

"You're such a gossip, Soo! It was not that bad."

"Says you!" She stands up and walks towards the bar counter, smiling and turning back to look at both you and Jieun. "More rum?"

"Yes, please!"

"Hey—"

It's the greetings and then a hand that trails far too low on your back. It grazes the curve of your ass and you quickly jolt forward turning only to find a man in his mid thirties in a suit, standing eerily close to you.

You narrow at him before asking, "I was searching for my husband. Pretty tall, broad shouldered, dark brown hair, slightly curly. Have you seen him?"

"You're Chan's wife? Didn't know he had such a beautiful woman for a wife," the man edges forward and you take a step back, eyebrows furrowed at him and your hand trailing down to keep you ready to grip your gun. Until you remember that you're undercover and hitting this man with a gun would seem suspicious. Your best option was to deck him. The man takes another step forward and you take one backwards till your back hits the buffet table, "I'm Ilsung. Do you maybe want to go somewhere..."

"You have a wife and I have a husband," you spit out. You are mortified. So this is what Sookyung mentioned and the fact her very own husband is involved in illicit affairs — does everyone here have a mistress or is involved in adultery? Is that the rich people norm?

"So? Everyone here has an affair with someone's wife. Do you want to be mine? I can take care of you."

"I can very well take care of my wife, Ilsung. I don't think I'll need your help."

You hear the one voice you needed to hear in this very moment. You look over the older man's shoulder to find Chan, his hands shoved into the pockets of his formal pants. His top buttons are undone and the vest and suit fits him so well that you are glad you picked this one out for him. You shove the man away and walk to Chan, heels digging into the lawn as you strut confidently.

"I need the madam to say that," Illsung shoots and Chan's at his patience's end. He makes fists of his hands on either side of his and you hold onto his arms to calm him down only to look at the other man and narrowing your eyes, you scoff.

"I don't think I need to go have sex with someone like you when I get it well from him. That, and I guess, him being my husband should take more priority but not in this neighborhood where everyone breathes and lives on sex. So, no, thank you. I feel sad for Sookyung. She deserves someone better than a trash for a husband."

"Why, you bitch!" And he rushes forward with a clenched fist to hit you. Chan stops his blow, however, chuckling to himself.

"That's weak. Now, why don't you go take care of your wife while I treat mine like a princess? Yeah?"

And Chan walks away with his arms tight on your waist as he holds you close. Ilsung yells behind the two of you, his wife yelling at him to keep quiet. Chan, on the other hand, doesn't speak a word further, just walking you all the way to the house the two of you share, keeping you so close to him and glaring at the others to keep them away.

There are sighs and grunts, furrowed eyebrows and clenched fists as Chan argues with himself in his head all the way to the room the two of you share. He stands by the table, still lost in his thoughts and you almost pick up the book you're reading — one by Natsume Suseki — only to deck him with it, although you decide not to because he already seems ready to snap his control.

"Chan—"

Maybe your voice was the only trigger he needed to snap, to break away from his thoughts and to give them words out loud.

"You just stood there? Like some dumb doll when he touched you?" Chan glares at you and you frown, folding your arms over your chest and yelling back, "Excuse me, but I'm undercover as some doting wife to some stupid man."

"Did that matter then? Oh my god," he groans, throwing his head back. "I'm so mad and I know you're right. You are right but how dare he touch my wife when I was around. The fucking audacity—"

You hold the edges of the table with the base of your palm, pressing against it as you jump up and sit up on it to face him properly. You cup his face and making sure his eyes are fixed on yours, you smile softly.

"Don't smile right when I'm shit mad at everything, Y/N."

"Should I frown then?" You laugh out and push yourself back slightly to allow Chan to come closer and stand in between your thighs. "Let's think of this as some, uhm," you ponder, still holding Chan's face close to you, "Yes! Let's think of this as an occupational hazard."

"Occupational hazard," he scoffs. "Bullshit. He did that because he thinks women are weak. He's one of those arrogant pompous rich men that think that he can have his way with some good sacks of cash and power and that all women are weak and with that power comes his ability to subjugate them all to the age old tradition of treating them as sex dolls, an object for pleasure."

Chan's red and out of breath when he finally rants it all out and you bite your lower lip from laughing, dropping your hands from his face. Chan's cute. Oh god, he's so fucking cute and you know you shouldn't overstep boundaries but dear lord, if Bang Christopher Chan keeps this up, you will actually get down on your one knee, pop the ring and propose to him.

"Are you done?"

"No," he glares at you and leans forward, "Going to get back to work after this case and find some hell of a corruption case on him to put him behind the bars."

Your eyes wrinkle into thin crescents as you smile wide. You raise your eyebrows and suggest, "I've a better idea. Why don't you rather fuck me with all hat pent up frustration? It's a win win deal, if you think about it hard enough."

Chan leans forward, lips curving up into a confident grin, "Oh, I will. I intend to do both. Fuck this anger out on you and put him behind bars."

Chan's hands are big in comparison to your face. He cups your face, angles it and kisses you. His lips fit right into yours almost as if they were meant to be there for a lifetime to come. He kisses you and it's just as magical as always, laced with a touch of ardent need and passion. You needed him, you needed his warmth, his protection and everything he has to offer. His arms snake around your neck to grasp it and pull you in, deeper into him as he moves his lips against yours, softly at first till it turns into something so passionate that it would have your knees buckle, had you been standing. Chan is pressed against you, his white shirt, a size small as he likes it, clinging onto his body tightly (rid of the vest and suit in a moment of anger as soon as he walks into the house you share) and perfectly enough for you to hold his muscles.

You promised to yourself that you wouldn't fall in love, not after the shitshow of a marriage you saw in your parents. You promised that you'd keep your heart to self, that every individual in this world was brought forth as a single entity, so why in heavens did we go searching for others?

Chan makes you understand.

You understand now that promises are meant to be broken and as you gaze at Chan under his dim lights, his face so temptingly close to you, you are more than ready to break the promise you've made with yourself.

It has been written in the gazes already and as you lean forward, your fingertips tracing his jawline, Chan knows it because he meets you halfway, his hands creeping behind your back by your waist and tugging you closer, your bodies touching and your lips on his, soft and testing waters initially. He pulls you closer, his lips moving against yours, angling your face to delve deeper into you.

He has his lips against yours, nearly knocking you off all the wind in your lungs. You sigh into the kiss, find your hands in his hair, tugging at the roots and moving against his body, your legs stretching by either side of his body. His hand sprawls over your neck, his thumb caressing against your jugular before pressing into the neck, rubbing slow circles. He kisses the top of your lips, your hands tugging at his shirt.

In a swift motion, positions have changed and you're sitting on him whilst he props himself up on the table. He lifts you up slightly, pulling back and places you on top of his lap. Your rear falling into the depression between his thighs, rubbing against his groin slowly. He looks at you through hooded eyes, pushing your hair past and opens his mouth to speak before you voice out first.

He looks at you from below, your hair falling on his shoulder as you look at him, his head thrown behind as it rests on the sofa's ridge. And your lips find his again, tugging at his soft lip to let you through, to open up to you completely.

You moan into the kiss, your back arches and Chan's hand is still firm on it. He kisses your lower lip and your tongue brushes his lips in the impact, groaning at how he won't let you through a second ago and then, he lets you in. It's intimacy on a level you were slowly being prepared for. It's everything you remind yourself that you wouldn't break down into. Chan makes you feel special, with every praise, with every word he swears out to protect you. Chan reminds you of a feeling you had long forgotten.

Chan's lips move from your swollen lips to the curve of your jaw, down to the curved edges of your neck, sucking and kissing every exposed skin. Your head is thrown back at the sensation, your hips gyrating over his growing length.

His hand moves from your shoulders to your arse to your back after he seeks your permission as he pulls you closer and forwards, until your chests are pressed against one another. His mouth is everywhere and good lord, you feel infinite and powerful.

His lips hover on yours. He smirks, the curve of his lips tugging upwards slightly and you think it's cute. You think Chan also makes you feel divine as he whispers into your skin like personalized love notes or small token of appreciation, "Fuck, you're hot. The most beautiful being I've ever seen," and that is all that is needed as you gyrate over your hips a little quicker. He inches his chin forward, flicking your nose a little with his own, a shy smile on his lips as he silently asks the permission to claim your lips anew; all over again.

And you let him, just like you've already given him permission in your head to ravish you tonight, to take you to hell and back.

Chan cups your face with both his hand, holding you and watching your face shine in the dim gold setting of his room. Your cheeks glistened and your eyes sparkled but his eyes could not stray away from your lips — coral, swollen and so demanding. He pulls your face down, kissing your nose tip and then your philtrum before pressing his lips flat against yours.

His kiss is drawn out in a way that makes you want more, like a divine aphrodisiac. It makes you want to pull him in and suck the living hell out of him and yet it's lovely. It's precious and laid out well planned. His tongue licking your lower lips before entwining with your tongue as he pulls you closer into him, your hips lowering deeper into his covered length, panties sticking to the core from the sensations your body is responding to.

His fingers trail up your black dress, thumb grazing the skin slowly, bringing about goosebumps to the surface before they slowly move enough to rip your dress apart and expose you to him, in all semi-nude. You moan, before kissing him as you hold onto Chan tightly.

He makes your insides twitch and your heart lunge and it fogs up all of your thoughts to the point you feel yourself drowning in the sensation of his lips, pressed tightly on your own. Your fingers get lost in his thick locks as you tug on them, forcing him to pull you down a lot forward and gladly welcome the movement of your tongue.

His lips are as soft as feathers and they feel like what you think heaven feels like. The warmth you experience is so much more than the tingle of first kisses, those innocent butterflies have nothing on the wanting void of a pit in your nether regions and the slick in between your thighs.

His hands slide down from your hips to reach behind your back and pull you upwards, only to tightly clasp around the curve of your bare bottom cheeks, caressing it over. You sigh contently. His hand trails upwards, touching, feeling you all over and you pull back, breathing rapidly as you look at Chan. The next second you are unbuttoning his first two buttons and prompting him to remove his shirt too. Your legs slide slightly dangling off his sofa before he pulls you towards him, his naked chest warm enough against yours as he pulls you back in to devour you.

"God, you're heavenly," Kiss. "So fucking heavenly." Kiss. "You're a fucking good girl." Kiss. "So good for me." Chan sucks a huge hickey into your neck — bright, dark and purple but it's how he worships and praises you that makes you want him more, your clothed core grinding on his enlarged bulge that is covered. The friction from the cotton of your panties and the cotton of his jeans slowly stimulates your core and you can't help yourself when your body is moving on its own accord on top of Chan, your hand moving your from falling back.

“Chan,” you groan against his lips after he pulls away from you for a minute. His lips are red and swollen, slick and shining with your saliva and so incredibly inviting you all over again and you fear that you may never want to stop kissing him for as long as you are breathing.

"Chan!"

His fingers move downward, grazing your skin by your stomach slowly, his eyes trained on yours as he watches you slowly break down. His fingers tease over your clothed mound. You bite your lip from groaning too loud but Chan's sudden tapping at your covered clit makes you yelp.

"Good girl. That's right. I want to hear your pretty moans," he kisses down on your neck, trailing and plastering wet kisses down your clavicle before sucking at the exposed skin of your breasts. "Moan loud for me, baby." He sucks at the skin by the crook of your neck, under your clavicles, above your breast and at the curves, leaving purple marks almost instantly thanks to your sensitive skin.

You can hear your heart beat quicker, racing against your chest and your thoughts drive you desperate. Pulling his face from your breasts, you kiss him, making the kiss deeper, licking his lip and grazing it with your teeth. You grind down on him trying to edge yourself desperately. You move forward to own every gulp and moan he releases and squirms in pleasure.

"I want you so much," you choke out. Chan's hand lets loose from your throat slightly and he looks at you with admiration, before gripping at the jugular, and caressing it lovingly, pressing wet kisses against it. You sound desperate, almost like you would lose your sanity if Chan doesn't make you his, this minute. "Please. Chan, please."

His hands trail downwards, thumb rubbing the skin on its way before he slips them under your panties, swiping his finger across your slit, feeling how wet you are. He groans out loud, mumbling, "What a doll. All wet and ready for me to devour. You'd like that, wouldn't you? Baby, wouldn't you?" He presses against your jugular with his other hand, tilting your head and gently choking you. Your eyes rim with tears in joy and you nod, "Yes, please."

His mouth moves over the skin at your breast, kissing it furiously. His tongue lapping at your nipple over your bra, slowly circling over the clothed material as he rubs his finger up and down your slit, occasionally rubbing against your clitoris. You press down and grind on him further, begging for more. Chan removes his hand from your neck and moves it up from your waist to your back and it lingers around the hook of your bra before snapping it open with a flick of his fingers. The bra slides off your shoulder and you throw it away, unbothered by where it lands.

Chan's mouth falls on your breasts, circling big with his tongue before slowly decreasing the radius of his turns and narrowing down on your nipples, sucking at them alternatively. You are moaning, holding at his shoulder and dragging your hips over his bulge in a slow, excruciating pace he has set with the drag of his fingers.

Your throat is dry from all this excessive want and you wet your lips, breathing coming out in hot puffs of air, rapid and shallow. The passion and want blinds you and Chan taps on your clitoris constantly with his thumb, using the other fingers to slowly tease your entrance over the panties but going back to sliding down your opening. You groan frustrated and grind down on his bulge trying to chase the feeling that is growing within you.

Chan's lips are all over you as you bite into his shoulder occasionally. It hovers over your neck and then your breasts, giving it all the attention as he plays with your nipples as he rubs you at a pace that quickens slowly. Your mind is boggled and you can't get your thoughts clearly.

"Such pretty breasts," he groans into it, his tongue flicking at it from your underside. "Such perky breasts. So beautiful and all mine."

Soon enough with his praises and the way he worships your being, the promise of an orgasm begins to manifest and build within you as a strong tightness within your lower regions, creeping into your abdomen, ever growing with every passing second. Chan's steady rhythm is strong enough to carry it over the edge with the friction you get from all the material and his bulge and as your climax looms closely, your hips rock and gyrate slightly against him. He pinches and flicks your nipples as he helps you ride out the orgasm, your eyes tired and hooded. You kiss him softly on his lips.

"Will you remove your lingerie for me, pretty girl?"

The order shouldn't have turned you on this much but it does as you hop off his lap, your feet unsteady on the ground as you balance yourself after your first orgasm. Your fingers are on the edge of your panties and you're pulling it down completely in the next second. Chan watches you steadily, his eyes trailing on your figure and you feel attended to.

"Jesus Christ," he stands up, the bulge moving slightly and your mouth dries up as it opens, wanting so much more. He holds you by your waist, petting your hair, mumbling, "I love when you put your hair down. You look like a goddess. A goddess ready to let go of your divinity all for me."

He unbuckles his belt as you slowly touch yourself, your hand moving down your body. He watches you, your thumb and forefinger playing with your nipples, tugging and pinching them till they harden under your grip. He removes his formal pants and his boxers, pulling it down and away at your request. Chan's length and girth has your eyes widening, as always, your tongue licking over your lips and you gape.

It's painfully hard and the tip is red, leaking with precum down his cock. Chan holds you by your waist and lifts you up, your knees wrapping around him and your soaked core on top of his hardened girth, occasionally dragging past it. He kisses your breasts, licking over the nipple and the underside of the breast, grazing his teeth over it as he walks you to what you had thought would be the bed. However, he stops midway, looking at you for a second before your back hits the cold walls of the room in this house as he holds you securely. You see the bed by the side and you smile. You drop your legs and stand on your toes as you kiss him, your tongue running over his buccal cavity.

Chan's hand trails down, circling by your waist before his palm hovers over your mound. His thumb brushes past your clit teasingly and your hand wraps around his neck, kissing him and biting at his lower lip till you feel the metallic copper taste of blood filling your senses.

You moan as he drags a finger up and down your slit, playfully teasing you fold. He rubs circles into your folds, slowly dragging them out into waves and your hand flies upwards and forward to hold on to him for a grip.

"Chan," you rasp out, and he hums, removing your hand so that he can kneel down, kissing your thigh and biting it slightly as his thumb rubs against your clit and the other swipe against the folds. Your hands grip on his roots, tugging at it mercilessly.

"Baby, do something," you cry. "Please, I need you." Your other hand tugs at his hair, trying to bring him closer in a desperate manner. "I'll be a good girl. Please, do something."

"Should I?" he teases, rubbing small circles around your clit in an excruciatingly slow manner and you think — know — that Chan is going to drive you to insanity and how he'd pull one off his book and blame it on his instincts.

"Please, please, please—"

The intrusion is sudden and you are overwhelmed. You gasp, the air raspy against your throat before falling. Your hand pulls at his hair harshly as he sucks on your clitoris, his breathing fanning over you. Your fingers drag down and dig into his skin, unbothered by the possibility of cutting through it.

He presses his thumb on your clit after removing his mouth, tapping it slowly, simultaneously and you think you're going delusional. "Chan, oh my fucking heavens."

He kisses your mound repeatedly, telling you, "Look at this sex. Wet and dripping. I'll give you what you want, baby. I'll give you what you want for being a good girl for me."

Chan adds another two fingers instantly and you feel overwhelmingly full, crying out at being widened so pleasurably. The walls stretching out and you catch him mumbling, "So fucking tight and all for me. Look at this brat being a good girl for me."

He curls them up into you and your back arches slightly at the tingles. You feel Chan slipping his fingers easily into you and the slick of your arousal dripping down your thighs, making a mess. He rubs your walls, his attention also on your enlarged button and your hips gyrate with him, thrusting and chasing after his fingers desperately. He finds your spot easily after being this around and pushes at it constantly. Your head hits against the wall hard and he looks upwards at you for a split second, worried, only resuming after you give him a signal that you are alright.

You feel the euphoric rush coming, creeping through from within and trying to embrace you as a whole and when it's very close to burst, Chan pulls his fingers away, licking them clean with a knowing smirk plastered on his face, for a second before thrusting them back in.

Chan pumps his fingers in and out of you as his thumb rubs furious circles into your clit. He bites at your thigh, kissing them soon after, leaving traces of bruises near to your vulva. Hot, purple and sticky. He sucks on the skin deliriously, licking the skin to soften before grazing his teeth to oversensitize you. You feel the build up and you squirm against Chan, your eyes watering.

"Chan, baby," it's a sob that leaves you. "Please." You were so devastatingly close after your last orgasm, the balls of heels leaving the surface as you try to pull back but Chan pulls you down as he sucks on your clitoris and pumps his fingers in you in a ridiculously breaking pace and when you are so close to breaking apart, Chan drags his fingers away, licking and sucking at them as you look down at him.

"What the fuck?" You swear, frustrated, tears spilling from your eyes.

"Good girls don't swear."

"I'll blow you off well," you try striking a deal with him. He looks up at you amused, strands of hair sticking to your face from the sweat and he still thinks you're the most beautiful woman he has laid his eyes. "I'll give you one hell of a blowjob. Just please." Your voice breaks as you look at Chan, who looks so delectable at the minute with your juices staining the side of his mouth and his lips shining in the light. "You won't regret—"

His mouth is back on your core and you groan, "Ungh!" He mumbles, his warm breath tingling your core as he speaks against it, "Good girls don't strike a deal either, darling."

"But your good girl does," you tease and Chan's mouth is back on your sex, licking and teasing it. He grabs you by the calves, his blunt nails digging into the vast skin.

Without another word, Chan dives right into it, tongue darting out to lick a long, thick stripe from your center to your clit, causing you to shiver. Your left hand finds its way back to his hair after grabbing at his shoulder intermittently. Chan simpers to himself, overwhelmed by how well your body reacts to him and just him, your legs shivering and buckling, about to fall if it weren't for Chan's hands holding you up and pressing you against the wall.

You feel the thickness of his tongue lapping up your seeping wetness, which in turn causes a rush of arousal to leak and drip down your ass. "You're making a mess, baby," he chuckles, the laughter hitting your clit and sending a shiver down your spine. Your fingers instinctively tighten around his hair and you pull him closer to your cunt, his nose nuzzling against your mound. He groans, hands gripping your thighs tightly, locking your legs in place.

Burying himself further, his tongue dips deep inside you, nose nuzzling and rubbing against your clit with every thrust. His eyes are piercing and fixated on the rise and fall of your chest as he looks up at you once in a while, seeing you tug at your lips, eyes closed and hand roaming around for support. He loves seeing you fucked out for him.

"Argh, it's fucking divine," Chan mumbles against your slit and the vibrations have your core clutching onto nothing. "This good cunt all wet and slickened for me, ready for me." You mewl, unable to stop yourself from wriggling within his hold, the grip on his hair tightening.

Your walls grasps around his tongue, pulling him further into you as he laps up every single drop of your arousal, passionate as if it were an aphrodisiac. One of his hands travels upwards to latch itself on your breast, rubbing the underside of your breast, fondling and gripping it hard.

“Chan,” you moaned softly, your voice trembling over the sensations that ride into you, toes curling. He responds to your calling, withdrawing from you slowly, by planting soft and gentle kisses to your inner thighs.

"You're doing great, love."

He sucks on your clit furiously and that was everything for you. You feel the same high building up at a pace quicker than you thought was possible. You feel it tightening, your core clutching onto his muscular organ as it tries indulging itself deeper, chasing after something it craves. His nose rubs against your neglected clit. He licks a stripe against it before sucking at it, teeth grazing at it sending tingle down your spine that has you hitting the bumpers with the heel of your feet. You are already sensitive from the last orgasm and all the teasing you had and with all this vigor and undivided attention Chan gives you, you feel it coming as he treats you like you're his only girl.

Your back arches more steeply, your mound hitting him in its influence, head hitting the wall lightly this time and your moans are louder, raspier and quicker. You are screaming out Chan's name as you see the stars under your eyelids.

He still licks slow stripes, taking in and devouring the rush of juice that squirts out of you. He lets you ride out the high and he lets you leave him breathless as his grip on your thighs do not ease away. Chan does not stop, even when you're a quaking, quivering mess, tears spilling from the corner of your eyes and it's almost bordering overstimulation. You can't think and you can't form proper sentences. He leaves you gasping for air, with something stuck in your throat preventing the passage of air and it's difficult to breathe in this rush and he makes it harder.

He looks at you teasingly and he lifts his hand as you bend forward to his kneeling self. He clutches on your neck, his fingers pressing against the side softly as he continues licking up your orgasm and blocking your air passage. You feel the stimulation rushing and concentrating and it's all too much for you. Tears stain your face and you're crying, "It's too much, Chan. Too much."

And he stops as soon as you say that. He presses soft kisses against your clitoris and he holds your hips tightly as he stands up. You've lost any energy in your legs you have and if it weren't for Chan, you'd crash.

He holds you by the hips and carries you, dropping you gently against the bed, your hair spreading and you kiss his shoulder. He caresses your face and tells you — it's a whisper almost — "I think I want to get to know you more. I think I—"

You bring his face lower to kiss him, preventing any other word to spill from his mouth that your head tells you to cancel. You are not sure yet. You hold his face down, devouring him as a whole, feeling his length slide your core draggingly and you groan into him.

You don't shy away from prying your hand down, teasing his cock as you rub your hand over the enlarged shaft slowly, teasing his enlarged red head, rubbing your arousal and the afters of your orgasm all over him, slowly stimulating him as you drag your hand down his length and back up again, letting go of his shaft only to cup his balls, trailing your fingertips around it. You let go and look at Chan.

"Lay back, please," you request and he pecks your nose as he pouts at you. God, he really really wants to call you his. Forever.

Chan lies back on the bed, his head resting between his pillows and yet he pulls his body up, supporting his weight on his arm. You sit up, crawling over to straddle his lap, nervousness setting into your stomach. You gulp and swallow the saliva as you look at Chan, whose gaze gives you comfort and confidence. The muscles in your arm stiffens as you grip his shoulder for stability and Chan's hand falls on your hips naturally, helping you steady yourself.

Your hands rest on his chest, firm and broad and you gaze at Chan's cock for a while, it twitching with every unadulterated thought of his as he watches you on top of him, bare, exposed and unrestrained all for him. Your mouth is parched and your tongue pokes out through the seams of your lips, running across the expanse of your lower lip and wetting it.

"Fuck," he swears as his eyes move with your tongue, his chest rising and falling under your hold.

You reach forward to take him in your hand — the tip of his head looks so inviting that you couldn't stop yourself. Chan's hands roam up your arms, his thumb caressing the underside of your breasts before they play with them, his thumb and forefinger rubbing your nipple, watching it turn solid in his hold. He grips at your breast, fondling it and massaging it, stimulating you and bringing about a rush of confidence in you.

“You’re fucking large, fuck, fuck,” You yelp, eyes wide and mouth salivating at the heaviness in your grasp. You widen your mouth, stretching your facial muscles and Chan laughs.

When you look at him, his dark eyes are speared to your movements, teeth gritted. At this moment, with you hovering over him, he can't seem to contain how excited he is, his length twitching in your hold. You begin moving your hands up and down his length at the same slow pace he had put through.

You lean forward, Chan's grip on your breasts tightening as he squeezes it. Your whines turn to louder moans of ecstasy. His one hand grabs your hair back, pulling it into a makeshift ponytail until he drops it and touches your face, "Ah, so beautiful. You're so perfect."

Chan watches you and is all too eager, his hand on your face trailing down to your shoulder, gripping on it as he continues caressing one of your breasts. The flat of your wet tongue sticks out to lick around the rim of his hot head. He fights back a groan, choking and sputtering, grip on your shoulder tightening as his blunt nails dig into your skin. You stretch your mouth as wide as you can, hollowing it, which leads profanities spilling from his pretty mouth, even though it's a discomfort to your movement as you engulf the whole of his head with your tongue. He mumbles something incoherent under his breath and you sigh at the thought your mouth wrapped around his pretty cock.

Chan inhales a sharp breath, swearing and uttering, "Your pretty mouth could take me so well, baby. So good." You wrap your lips around the velvet tip, beginning a slow suction. Your tongue licks around the base, pulling up a fat stripe over the throbbing, prominent vein.

“Fuck, fuck,” Chan mumbles, shifting on the sheets, his hand gripping on one of the pillows. “Open wider, please, baby. You're doing so good. You're taking me so well."

You do as he has asked of you. Your jaw is already sore and the joints ache from the girth of his head alone. He pushes his hips off the bed in the slightest without your awareness; his hand trailing back to your hair and the other still on your breast making you feel good. His grip on your hair is strong as he thrusts more of himself into your mouth, your lips wet around his length.

You try your best for it to be pleasurable for him as your fingers tighten around his length before you start to twist your wrists — with a click of your gliding joint — and continue sucking. Chan is careful to be gentle with you, very tenderly urging his cock to fill more of your mouth. It shocks you when you feel the blunt of his head hit the cap of your airway, eliciting a gag.

Chan's eyes widens, the reaction from you exciting him as you feel him twitching in your mouth. He gasps, breath uneasy as his hand leaves your hair and trails behind towards your arse that sticks out as you try deepthroating Chan. He rubs your slit slowly and the unexpected contact pushes you forward, taking in Chan a lot more than you had planned, leaving him groaning into your shoulder.

He pulls out barely before he’s pushing back in, teeth gritted and eyes focused on making you feel calm too. Chan moves back and watches you taking him so well and he knows it's a sight to behold — your pretty lips wrapping around his length, taking him so well as if your mouth was made for him, crafted to perfection. His fingers rub small circles into your vulva, tapping against the clit accidentally once or twice.

Another gag rumbles out of you as you fight the reflex. The vibrations against his member is felt and he grips on your arse, pulling you into him, your nose rubbing against his pubis. Your finger trails the underside of his shaft before rolling his balls between your fingers. His hips stutter in shallow thrusts into your mouth and you feel the sting of tears threatening to blur your vision as you oppose your gag reflex, taking him as deep as you can.

The sounds of your gagging bounces off the walls of his bedroom, followed by the deep moans and sighs spilling through Chan's lips as he fucks your mouth. Each thrust of his hips causes the head of his cock to push past your airway, your throat constricting and eliciting a groan from him. He also diverts your attention to rubbing you, now and again slapping your cheeks, eliciting moans from you against his girth.

You release your hold around his length, fingers thickly coated in your own saliva as you dig into the flesh of his thighs. Your mouth is stretched as wide as you can physically make it and tears roll down your cheek continuously, while you willingly take him completely in your mouth. You look up through the flutters of your eyelashes, enthralled to see the Adam’s apple in Chan's throat bob up and down while his head is thrown back in pleasure.

Chan pulls your head back; his cock comes out from your mouth with a light pop followed by you gasping for air. Your eyes droop, your cheeks hollow and your jaws ache but everything counts to how hot you felt, to how hot the tension between you still is. His hand trails back to your hair, gripping on it and jerking your hair back so you’re forced to look at him.

"This is a fucking sight to behold. Look at you, darling," he groans.

Chan's thumb grazes your skin and he latches his lips onto yours in a sloppy, messy and wet manner and nothing else seems to matter other than your need for each other. You lean forward, tugging at his pinna as you bite down on it lightly, before mumbling, "I'm on top today."

Chan doesn't care because all he can focus on is how you said today, like this isn't just a one time thing. He gazes at you with such affection that has your heart racing telling you to let go of that stupid cages you keep around your concepts.

As your folds, dripping down with thick, sticky arousal coating Chan's cock with that and your saliva, brush the tip of his hardened cock, you feel a shudder run down your spine. You instinctively allow yourself to lower further, taking the rest of him in you swiftly with the help of your arousal. Sinking down around his dick and feeling him fully wrapped around your clutching walls has you throwing your head back, squeezing your eyes at how his length stretches you out, your walls wrapping around him tightly. He holds your waist, helping you down on his length.

You rock your hips into him, already finding yourself tightening and clenching around his thick cock. He fills you up so nicely, stuffing you perfectly full and you salivate, licking your lips. Your lips parts and you find your hips moving on their own accord. Chan's right hand rises upwards, massaging your breast, flicking your nipple and sending a rush down your spine, arching your back. His cock hits you at an angle and a soft moan leaves your lips.

Chan takes your hips in his hands, taking control of your movements to raise you up, leaving you empty and whining. You clench around nothing but air and your own walls, desperate to sink back down. “Chan,” you whine, your lower lip puckers forwards and Chan lifts himself up to kiss you.

As his hand grip around your hips to get a better hold, he slams you back down on his cock, hard, causing you to scream. “Fuck, Chan, oh my god, ah!”

He continuously guides you in a rhythmic movement, throwing his head back into his pillows and groaning. The sheen of sweat glistening on his chest catches your eye as he pants. The way his eyes clenched shut and his mouth hangs open with pleasure only makes you move faster around his cock, gyrating around it and tightening your walls. The sight before you makes you want to see him fucked out further. You want him to crumble under you because of you, leave him trembling under your hold.

He groans, "Your cunt is so pretty. Look at it, baby. Look." He gapes down and you gasp, moaning quicker.

You ride him, bouncing on his dick and clenching when you feel yourself reaching your climax for the third time that night, all because of this man. Chan's finger moves down and slips between your sweat soaked bodies to rub your clit, pushing you even further over the edge.

“Are you going to come, baby?” He asks, breathlessly, his voice airy and light, almost floating away. He pulls his head forward to kiss your collarbones, sucking harsh bruises against your skin, continuing further down the existing purple bruises.

“Y-Yes, please, please,” you sigh, lacing your fingers through his hair and tugging on the dark strands. “Mhm, fuck, please, please, you feel so good, Chan.” You lean forward and the motion causes him to whine. You quickly catch it as your lips fall on his. His lips enclose yours, tugging and pulling at it and he kisses you slowly and passionately as you move on his cock, lazily.

Words, unfiltered and raw, spill out from your mouth after your lips leave his as you feel the high that is creeping up slowly within you. “Chan, fuck. Oh fuck. I'm going to come soon. Oh my god." Your voice reaches a pitch higher.

“Then, come.”

Chan moans against your neck as he feels you, his finger rubbing your clit, “Baby, come all over my cock. You deserve that for being the good girl you are.”

Chan's other hand that is not occupied leaves your hip and moves upwards to find its place on your neck. His fingers gently wrap themselves around your neck and that makes you wetter than you already are. He presses his fingers against your neck with pressure and you choke, gasping for air. Your mouth opens wide and your tongue falls out slightly resting on your lower lip. Your eyes roll back and your walls clench around Chan's cock tightly, your hip gyrating around it for all the friction.

Your fucked out expression as you choke for air makes Chan plunge into you harder and you choke harder, his hips lifting up and thrusting into you.

A final flick of his finger over your sensitive button and a bit more pressure over your neck are all it takes for your body to flood with pleasure and ecstasy. Your legs tighten around Chan's sides, curling in as you ride out your high for as long as possible, still moving your hips against him. His fingers let go of your neck and you breath loudly, taking in huge gulps of air.

Not long after your undoing, he comes inside you, coating your walls with his seed as you feel his length pulsate within you. Thick strings coating your walls till it seeps from your vagina and drips down.

Once your body falls limp against his chest, equally fucked out and panting for air, you feel him going soft inside you. He kisses your forehead and your hair, pushing it from your face. He lifts you up, slowly slipping out of you and gently laying you by his side, the semen slipping out. His fingers rub small circles on your hips after pulling you closer into him, nuzzling into the sides of your breast.

In his warmth, with his arms over your stomach as he snuggles closer to you, you feel your eyelids heavy and fluttering shut. His lips are close to your skin, feeling his steady breathing and listening to it calms you down, steading you and increasing your melatonin, slowly drifting away to a state of peace, all in Chan's arms.

You stir in the bed, your hand reaching out for Chan only to feel the messy bed sheets and blanket. You wake up, brought to your senses well enough and you look around to find Chan only to see the light in the balcony turned on.

Putting on his white shirt messily, you rush outside to find Chan sitting and staring at the black sky. You sit by his side, shuddering in the cold and he looks at you fondly, cracking a smile.

"You're up?" You nod, teeth biting at the cold breeze that passes by, until you realise what Chan is staring at. It's snowing. It is the first snow in a long while and it's beautiful, albeit being late. He smiles at the purple mark that he has graced upon your skin. Chan stretches his arms out, blanket still in his hold as he offers to hold you close in this cold weather, to share his body warmth. He mumbles softly into your ears, "You should sleep a little more. It's going to be a tough day tomorrow. Aren't you meeting Jieun?"

"Yeah," you smile, watching the surroundings. "First thing in the morning. She seems to know a lot about everyone in this neighborhood. That, and I want to know why they treat Somin," Chan looks lost and you realise you haven't discussed it yet with him. "Kim Jihoon's widow is treated like that."

"I'm firm on this theory."

"What theory?"

"That Rowoon is the one killing people — bad homeowners — off because we'll, they disrupt his neighborhood. That or, they got drunk and it is still an accident."

"But Somin?"

"What? Anyone can be a bad homeowner! She's probably his next target." Chan chuckles and pulls you in closer. He holds you still for a while before he says, "We'll talk about the case tomorrow before you go to Jieun's. And you should clean up the mess of notes on the dinner table."

"You're the nagging kind of husband!"

"No." He is quick to deny. "I just like my house at least a bare minimum clean, alright?" You laugh out loud, falling into his hold as you try to contain your joy. Something soft hits your knees, barely visible but it settles softly.

Snow. It's snow and you see the snowflakes along with it. You watch them tumble, those feathered crystals, their chaotic flight to form a blanket that could not be more uniform, more orderly. And it's beautiful. So beautiful that it eases you and has you snuggle further into his warmth. Enough to make you forget everything for a minute there in his arms.

"I like snowflakes," you say, your head resting on his chest. There is a certain intimacy in the hour, in his hold, in this weather and between the two of you. A certain intimacy to friends who only sleep and work with each other shouldn't have. Chan looks at you, waiting for you to continue.

You do like snowflakes. A lot. Each snowflake is like a sculpture made out of paper. Each has a unique identity reflecting a crucial passage in the chosen source material with an equal amount of complexity carved out of minimal space and in the end, it falls down before someone, lighting up someone and making them happy.

"It makes me happy. It doesn't have to fit in or match with anyone else and it still means the world to someone."

Chan smiles and you know it is clearly one of your most favorite things in the world, your solace. You find the happiness growing, much as a spring flower opens. It comes from deep inside to light his eyes and spread into every part of him. Chan makes sure it is like that, that the world knows when he's happy but wouldn't, when he is sad. A person smiles with more than their mouth, and I heard it in his voice, in the choice of his words and the way he relaxed. It was beautiful. He was beautiful.

Maybe he'll teach you not to hold in your feelings. Maybe he will let you fall in love. All over again.

And you kiss him. It's short and quick, as chaste as the love you feel for him in this minute, in his arms. He leans forward and kisses you back and maybe, you both were snowflakes, as weird as you are, as unique as you — and yet the two of you make each other happy as corny as it sounds.

"Uh," Chan pulls back and rubs the back of his head and then his nape. "I—"

"Oh, a mistletoe, look!" You point and Chan turns back, frowning to look at the tree by the side with some creepers that crawl on its branch — creepers that were not mistletoes. You smile brightly as you continue pointing and Chan looks at you with a raised eyebrow.

"That's not a mistletoe."

"It isn't? I thought it was. My bad!" You laugh, eyes sparkling in mirth and cheeks heating up in embarrassment over the obvious lie you said. You sit up straight and look up at the sky.

"It's a pretty night for whatever shit that went down today," Chan comments, staring at the moon. The moon is a warm milky glow in the sky, as if the sight of her could become a song in the eyes of anyone willing to raise their head upward. You were and you were going to seize the opportunity.

Chan's gaze is fixed on the big moon and your head thinks of him and the words from Natsume Suseki and every other anime you were forced to watch, thanks to Jeongin. In every black night, he was the spark that rekindled hope in you.

"Is there something on my face, Y/N?"

"No," You turn back, smiling, heart fluttering and your mind at ease. "Just," you hold your chest, feeling the beating of your heart louder than ever.

"The moon is beautiful."

It's small and fragile. Once, and then, twice, till it sounds again and again and again through the silent air of your house.

The knocking on your door is repeated and you turn to look at Chan who stirs in his sleep, thanks to the same sound. You shuffle in your bed, trying to go back to sleep, presuming it is an illusion and nothing more. However, Chan heard it too.

"Is someone…"

"I'll go check," you mumble, huffing and throwing the blanket to the side. Luckily, Chan's shirt covers you up to your thighs. You jump out of the bed and your partner decides that it is safe to follow you to the door instead.

You open the door and in comes rushing a little boy, aged not more than eight, with tear stains on his face. He runs forward hugging your frame in his reach as he cries out loudly. Chan looks at the scene before him in delusion and you relate.

Who in the world is this child?

"Is everything alright?"

The child continues crying into your frame, burying his face into your abdomen. Chan squats down to come face to face with the child. His hand carefully holds the child's back as he pats him slowly, letting him calm down for a while before he asks again.

"Where's your mum and dad?"

"Dad isn't home. M-mum is," the child hiccups, choking on his own sobs as tears roll down his face messily. "She's in the garage and there's blood around her head and—" He cries fiercely and you hold the boy close to you, heart heavy because you know the worst possible scenario. Death.

"Why don't you take us there, okay?" Chan smiles gently. The boy looks with teary eyes at him and Chan quickly lifts him up in his hold. "Come on. Let's go."

And the boy was right and his worst nightmare comes true. You cover the eyes of the child to prevent him from further seeing the horrendous sight before him.

Because before all of you was the body of Kim Jieun, sprawled in her own driveway, her head crushed to a pulp under her garage.

An overturned shelf, a couple of paint cans that look like they have been thrown and some blood splattered on the floor is all you and Chan find last night. That, and a woman's broken pastel nail extension.

You would have checked further had it not been for your undercover and that Chan had been getting endless calls from Mayor Arsehole. Changbin fumingly goes on about how he sent the two of you to put a stop to this but rather there's another case on his desk now. The man does not calm down even after Chan says that the two of you were definitely looking for a serial killer and that these deaths were not accidents. If anything, it upsets him further.

This morning however, the sun shines brighter.

Chan walks into the kitchen, looking for you, teasingly shouting out into the air, "Honey, what's for breakfast? Eggs? Bacon? Eggs and Bacon? Or maybe it's ri—"

Before him on your cluttered table of a case file, notes and photos of evidence lies a sad bowl of soggy cereal.

"Soggy cereal it is," he frowns.

"I made it though. It should count for something, right, husband?"

Chan grunts and sits down, spoon digging into the bowl of cereal as he takes his first bite soon enough. He glances over at the wall behind the breakfast table. You have mapped out the relationship between every single person in this neighborhood, affairs inclusive and Chan lifts his lips in pride.

"Someone has been a bit busy. When did you even sleep?"

"Didn't fall asleep. So I decided to work on this instead," and Chan realises you were not even kissing. Your eyes are grogging and your face is a lot gloomier even though you are smiling off the joy of mapping it all out.

"Did you crack the case?"

"As a psychological profiler, I can say," you frown. "I haven't. I just can't figure out the connection here. These murders were distinctly targeted, so, why? Why specifically these three people?"

Chan stirs the milk in his cereal before he looks at you and suggests, "Why don't you look for a common enemy?"

"Huh?"

"Y/N, babe," you blush at the nickname and try to zero in on the matter in hand. "I know you and I see way too many crimes on a daily basis because of our job and that makes you and I think that we are chasing after some blood sucking psychopath," Chan pauses and eats a big bite of cereal. He munches on it slowly, letting you grow anxious in waiting, "We may not be dealing with some headcase who likes to strangle old women with pantyhose. Maybe we are dealing with a good old fashioned murderer; you know, the kind that kills people because they pissed them off."

You look at the board, index finger against your cheek and your eyes widen. "You could be right!"

"Don't look so surprised also," Chan mumbles, finally finishing his cereal.

"It could work. Maybe what the victims have in common is their relationship with the killer." You continue to stare at the board. Chan cleans the plate in the sink on the other end, mumbling at you to keep calm and that you would crack the case with him soon enough. You sigh, "I don't have enough information to look for a common enemy." You tap on the first victim, Yoon Yerin. "Especially on her."

Chan folds his arm and stares at you. This look ok you is another one of Chan's favorites. You purse your lips, eyebrows furrowed together as you concentrate. Your eyes don't waver just like your heart in moments like this and Chan thinks he could fall even further for you, for your confidence.

"I'll probably swing by her place and see what I can find there. What's your plan?"

"Drop by at Rowoon's and find out where the fuck he was last night when his wife was murdered and his child was all alone." Chan stands by your side and you nod.

"Be home by 6:30?"

"Sure thing, honey," Chan laughs and he kisses your forehead, his lips lingering for a little while longer and you still, body heating up in his contact.

You nervously laugh, pushing him away slightly, "You're in character," You laugh again. "Method acting, right? that's good."

Chan looks away, avoiding contact with you and mumbling, "Yeah. Method acting."

He wonders how long he has to put up with this stupid method acting.

"Any luck?"

"Besides having Rowoon almost barf on my very nice dress shirt, no," you hear Chan speaking through the phone. You walk further down the neighborhood, lush green trees on either side. As much as you despised Changbin, you had to agree — the neighborhood is great. Just that it wasn't meant for people like you. People not rich.

"Do you want me to press a shirt for you?" You tease.

"Would my wife do that?"

"In your dreams," you roar in laughter. Chan chuckles on the other end of the line.

"Anyhow, Rowoon was out fucking one of his mistress last night. He's also pretty fucked up with the death and has not stopped drinking."

"He has an alibi?"

"Yeah," Chan sighs. "It's definitely not my homeowner's rage theory then."

You walk a little more till you stand in front of an unremarkable suburban house. You tell Chan on the other end, "I'm here. I'll get back to you soon. Bye," and hang up almost immediately. Quietly, you turn on your tape recorder and speak into it.

"184 Arbor Way. The house that belonged to Yoon Yerin, the first victim. Yerin lived alone which is uniquely for this predominantly family oriented neighborhood. That alone may have made her stand out and a target for suspicion."

You walk around the house, trying to look into it and around it, "The place is scrubbed clean. Whoever Yerin was, I'll have to find out from inside. The outside is scrubbed way too clean to get rid of any possible doubts."

You take a step back and look around to see if anyone was passing by, before you lay your hand around the door knob and try turning it. It's locked. You wonder if Rowoon had the key. Glancing around carefully, you slide a paperclip from your pocket into the keyhole and jiggle it once — twice, till the door opens.

You smile brightly, "Some skills are rooted, ha! Thank God, I dated that sketchy guy back in college."

You pull open the door. Inside, the house is spotlessly clean. Almost as if no one ever lived in it. Whoever cleaned the place did a thorough job, almost leaving it spotless. You walk around the house, looking into every corner and room there to find anything. However, you are left looking at nothing but bare floors, undecorated walls and sparkling clean surfaces enough to shine.

You turn to leave, sighing out an air of disappointment when a gold sparkle catches your eye in the light. You bend down and find a man's golden cufflink lying against the corner of the room. Taking a latex glove from your pocket, you pick it up and bag it in a plastic cover, hiding it in your jacket as you leave only to bump into Somin.

"Oh, Hey," you stammer.

"I don't mean to pry but did you just come out from Yoon Yerin's house?" She raises an eyebrow and you hesitate, fingers holding the plastic bag tightly in your pocket.

"No, no, I—" You sigh, looking down. Lying after being caught red handed is useless. "Yes. I'll admit that I did."

"What on earth were you doing there?" She asks and you realise that to anyone from outside, your actions seemed very suspicious — enough to blow off your whole cover.

"The thing is, Yerin, I was there because," you close your eyes and inhale a sharp breath of air, "I was there because I got curious."

"Of?"

"I just heard what happened to Yerin and I needed to come and see the house myself."

"What could you possibly look for?" Her eyes waver and she looks back at the house.

"Some signs maybe," you look back to follow her gaze, "Maybe a blood stain or something. I know this might come out as a bit weird but I have always been fascinated by macabre. I even listen to Stephanie Soo's true crime podcasts regularly."

She smiles fondly and nods, "I understand. To be very honest, I was fascinated by Yoon Yerin too when I heard of her death. I tried coming by to see what had happened. But now," she sobs. "Jihoon is dead and so is Jieun. They say that there is a serial killer on the loose."

"It's so sad that it happened in this neighborhood," you take a step forward, trying to walk away.

"I know, right? The whole point of living in a gated community is to keep the awful things out." Somin leans forward and puts her hand around your shoulders. "Look, you seem like a really nice person, Y/N, so I'm going to be honest with you. There is something bad happening here, something very very bad. Keep your head down till it's over. It's for the best."

Her tone is lower than ever and the advice sounds scarier than usual, something as if it were to warn you of an impending danger. You call Chan and he picks up quick.

"About pressing your shirt? I think I can do that. I have some pretty cufflinks to match them."

Later that night, you sit in your kitchen, the same board looming over you. You try to map out even more connections on your chart of suspects. The whole board is so covered with lines of strings that it almost looks like a spider web.

Behind you, the door swings open and Chan comes in, strides longer and quicker to take him to you as he screams, "Honey, I'm home."

You laugh, twirling in your rotating chair as you look at him and ask, "How long have you been wanting to do that?"

"Since we got this assignment. Of course, I mean," he tries putting a serious face, "It is sad that we were forced to do this by Han when he blackmailed us with that sex tape—"

"It's not a sex tape."

"The footings, but," Chan smiles widely, "It wasn't so bad to play house with you, Y/N."

"Likewise, Chan."

"Now, did you find anything?" Chan asks, resting his chin on your shoulder once you turn to face the board, his hand on your other and you freeze, surprised by the sudden contact, ironically. "This mapping just got messier."

"Yeah," you exhale and your shoulders slouch. Chan stands up straight as he tries to understand the board before him. "I tried mapping all the infidelities and affairs and this is what I got. A whole mess. It's all convoluted now."

Chan's eyes widen as he tries tracing the lines with his index finger before giving up. "Is everyone cheating on their spouses here?"

"Almost everyone."

Chan takes a step back, opens the fridge and pulling out a can of beer, he goes to sit on the sofa. You turn your chair around and watch him take a sip of it.

"Wow, you look as if you're right at home," you tease.

"There's space for two here," he pats the sofa by his side, and grins sheepishly.

You get up and take your own can of beer from the fridge, mumbling, "I can sure take a break," and walk towards him, plopping down by his side. The two of you clink your beer cans, the sound clattering through the walls.

"It's Christmas tomorrow, you know?"

You hum in agreement, "It's my first one outside home."

"I hope we can crack the case soon so that you can at least spend a few hours with your family on Christmas."

"Hey," you nudge his arm, "The thought of spending Christmas with you does not repulse me, okay?"

"I had not even said that," Chan gasps. He turns to look at you, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "So does that mean the thought does repulse you?"

"Don't twist my words," you laugh.

"Do you want to get married?"

You choke on your drink, eyes wide as you look at him. He pats your back as he tells you to breathe slowly. You finally ask, "The thought or with a specific person?"

"Both."

"Yes, and no," you mumble. "I do want to get married once but," you look at Chan for a minute as he drinks his beer. "I don't think I have my feelings sorted properly to have the privilege to think of thoughts like that."

Chan leans forward, eyes dazed and fixed on yours. Has he always been this beautiful, this captivating? Has he always made your heart beat so much quicker?

"Do you think you'll ever be ready to sort them out?"

You sputter and choke again. Chan smiles again; this time however, it looked sad. He stands up, placing the beer can down on the table before. "I should get some fresh air. Take a stroll in the neighborhood and make sure nothing is going around, yeah."

You turn away, face too scared to look at him in worries of your emotions being transparent. "Yeah, you should do that. I'll get back to the mapping."

"I'll, uhm, I'll be back in a few." Chan rubs the back of his neck before quickly stepping out of the house. You sigh, head fuzzy with the overload of emotions.

He doesn't know you were ready. He doesn't know you wanted more. He doesn't know how you confessed that night to him in the moonlight. He doesn't know of how you feel, because of you. You never told him directly, always twisting your words and actions. If anything, you had no one else besides yourself to blame.

"Chan," you whisper but it's too late. He's out.

A step too late to realise as always.

You snap out of your daze caused by the overload of emotions. Getting up, you slightly slap yourself and mumble, "Focus. Back to work now." You reach out into your pocket and take the cufflinks to file away. You turn it around in your hand when it flashes.

"Wait a minute, wait a minute," you zero in on the object in your hand. "I've seen this cufflink before." You rush to the board, eyes scanning the pictures to see where you had seen it when it finally lands on the second picture pinned on the board.

You had seen it on the second victim — Kim Jihoon.

"Oh my god," you sigh, hand limp on both sides as you realise you know who it is. You know who the killer is and you know her motive.

"I know the killer. It's Somin, oh my—"

"Clever girl," you hear the feminine voice from behind you. You spin around quickly, hand on your chest as your eyes widen to find Somin standing by the door with a huge butcher knife in her hold.

"It was you!"

"That's right. Me." She takes a step forward. Instinctively, you glance back across the living room to where your gun hangs in a holster, draped over the coat rack.

Somin takes another step forward, speaking, "Sweet little Somin. Fragile, pitiful Somin. Somin who everyone always thinks they can pick on, lie to and laugh at — Ha!" He leaps forward and wildly waves her knife. She yells. "Well, who's laughing now? Who's laughing now?"

You dodge back, repeating to yourself to dawn the fact that it is true, that, "Jihoon was having an affair with Yerin."

"That ungrateful, cheating bastard couldn't wait to jump into that slut's bed. So I showed them both," she laughs. "I showed them both well."

"That I can understand," you edge closer to the coat stand to try and get your gun. "But why did you have to kill Jieun too?"

"Are you kidding me?" She yells. "That bitch stole my snickerdoodle recipe."

You huff out in disbelief, eyes narrowing at her and eyebrows furrowing, "Ah, I see. You're a full blown psychotic."

"I was going to stop after her, you know? But then you had to go and poke your nose around in the neighborhood. Stupid bitch."

Somin takes another step towards you and you know you are still far away from your gun. She is now almost at an arm's reach and you take a step backwards instinctively. She waves her knife again and you dodge it carefully.

"Who are you, huh? A cop?"

"An NIS profiler actually." She looks lost and you sigh. "A cop, yes."

"Well, Y/N," she glares. "Do you know what I hate the most? Liars." Somin lunges at you, jabbing the knife towards your throat. You dodge to the side, neatly weaving around the thrust. Somin stumbles past you, knocking over a giant carton of cereal, spilling it everywhere.

"Argh," and she swipes again. You dodge nimbly to the side again. Her knife cuts through the air with an audible hiss and the adrenaline pumps into your blood from the fear. The knife hits the fruit bowl and sends bright red apples scattering on the table, over your notes.

"Well, well, aren't you fast?"

"You've no fucking idea," you hiss, taking in as much air as you can. You back up and feel the counter behind you.

"Enough talk!"

You gulp, gripping the counter firmly. Somin dives towards you, slicing her knife at you. You reach back and grab a heavy toaster. You pull it around and holdi it out in front of you. It crackles loudly with a hot, electrical burst.

"Fuck." Somin jerks back, as if stung, the knife dropped from her grip. The knife clatters to the floor, it's tip blackened from char thanks to the electricity. Somin steps away, clenching and unclenching her hand.

"That fucking hurts, you bitch."

You drop the toaster and step back, putting your hands up defensively in front of your face. You propose, "Look, Somin, it's still not too late to surrender. We can still end this peacefully, alright?"

"You think I'm going to give up just because I lost my knife? I need to survive." Somin bounces up and down, assuming a combative stance. "I've been taking aerobic kickboxing for four years." She bounds towards you and shoots a lightning fast kick at your head. You guard your face and block her kick. She bounces back and aims to kick at your shins, hard. You jump, hopping back neatly avoiding her kick.

"Are you done?"

"No," Somin recovers quickly, spinning in a fast arc and throwing out a devastating, high roundhouse. You throw up your hands and block the kick. She staggers back, her balance off.

You seize the moment to spin around, swing low and lunge towards Somin, jamming the palm of your hand into her chin. You slide your one leg between hers and jerk back, kicking her feet out from under her and slam her down into the ground. The back of her head hits the cold tiles on the floor. You force yourself on top of her, pressing down on her chest with one knee and pant, "Four years of kickboxing, huh? Try seven years of krav maga."

She squirms under you, huffing, "Get off," and quickly lunging to get the toaster. Your eyes widen and you try to grab her hands. However, she's already about to throw the toaster when you hear the sound of metal clinking once and the toaster falling by your side.

"Nah, you're not going to hurt my wife," you turn to look at Chan, pointing the gun. He walks further ahead to the two of you. "Kim Somin, you are under arrest for the murder of Yoon Yerin, Kim Jihoon and Kim Jieun. You have the right—"

"They were all liars. All cheaters. It's not fair," she yells, struggling under your hold. You hold her wrists tighter and Chan slams the handcuffs on her.

"It's over, Somin. It's all over. The court will hear the rest, and the dead will have their peace."

"Did you reach home?"

Your phone is connected to the bluetooth speakers in your car and you hear Chan's voice in the small vehicle. You rotate the steering wheel as you turn to the right across the street. It's a comparatively quieter day, almost as if it's in stark contrast to the shit that went down last night.

"Not yet. I'm two minutes away."

"Merry Christmas, Y/N," Chan laughs and you smile, your lips pressed together to prevent you from breaking into a big grin. "Don't miss your husband too much."

"Still in character, I see." You press on the gas to reach home a little quicker. "Are you spending it alone?"

"Nah," you hear voices in the background. "I'm spending it with Felix and Han."

"Don't miss me too much either then," you tease back and pull up at your place. You park the car in the garage and sit in the car as you speak to Chan. "And I'll meet you back in office in a few days—"

"Did you reach?"

"Oh, yes?"

"Then, check the backseat. It's my Christmas gift for you," Chan says. You unbuckle your seat belt and lift yourself up to turn back and search the backseat only to find a small box. You stretch your arms to grab it and finally sit back in your seat.

"Did you find it?" You hear Chan through the speakers again. You hum in response and open the gift.

It's a necklace. A beautiful thin silver chain with a snowflake pendant hanging and you gasp, heart beating way too quick. He remembers. He remembers. He remembers. If you were not already flushed by the gift, the note stuck on the underside of the cover of the box has your mind fuzzy, feelings all over.

The moon is beautiful.

"Chan?"

"Yeah? Did you not like the gift? I'm—"

"I'm coming over in ten minutes. Send Han and Felix away. All I want this Christmas is you. Just you."

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