#hold on to your boots we’re going back to the 50s

[empath-demon]

Link to the decision:

[dancingtotuyo]

15. holding my breath for you

Woman | Joel Miller X Female Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Tags: Joel Miller X Female Reader. Age Gap (13/14 years). HBO Characters. Mostly cannon compliant for show & game. Timeline is changed. Spoilerish for TLOU 2

Chapter Warnings: fluff, angst, hurt /comfort, gore, violence, TLOU II SPOILERS, Major Character Death

Notes: I would say sorry... but I'm not sure I am. I LOVE YOU ALL DEARLY THOUGH!

If you haven’t seen this beautiful commission of Joel and Reader yet, you should.

Words: 6125

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Dawn is just forming when you roll over to find Joel’s side of the bed cold. A pout forms on your lips before you can open your eyes. He’s due to set out on patrol this morning and didn’t wake you up. He’s supposed to wake you up before he leaves. It’s the rule. 

You check on the kids to make sure they’re still asleep before trekking down to the stables. You pull the worn robe tightly around you as the wind whips at your hair and fresh snowfall threatens above you. You should’ve changed out of your pajamas, pulled on your boots and coat, but you fully intend to climb back into bed after this. They should still be there. Their patrol isn’t scheduled to leave for another 10 minutes. You find Joel in the stall at the end, diligently inspecting the saddle.

“You didn’t wake me up.” You cross your arms.

His head snaps up, a small smirk forming on his lips as he takes in your disheveled look. “You looked too cute this morning.”

“It’s the rule, Miller. We have rules for a reason. You always wake me up.” You put on a pout, but Joel sees through the teasing mannerisms, the stress that always creases your brow before patrols, especially overnight and snowy ones. 

“I’m sorry.” His hands grab your waist, pulling you against his sturdy frame as he kisses your forehead. “Will you forgive me?”

“Maybe.” 

He kisses your cheek. You don’t give in. He kisses your other cheek, then your neck, behind your ear until you're laughing like you’re a teenager and not almost 50 years old. He chuckles. It’s the kind that could and has kept you warm through the most brutal of winters. 

“Okay, Okay.” You throw your hands up in surrender. They settle on his shoulders. “I forgive you.”

“Good.” He presses a firm kiss to your lips. “They’re closer than we thought. We’ll probably be out there a few days, back in time for Willa’s dance recital. I promise.” 

“You better.” You push down the anxiety that rises. This is your least favorite kind of patrol. “She’s been practicing nonstop.”

“I know.” Joel sees it in your eyes, hears it in your voice. His arms wrap around you, burying his head into your neck. “She’s gonna be the prettiest damn butterfly up there.”

You lean into his warmth. You don’t sleep well alone. The kids get grumpy without him around. His breath is hot in your ear. “I’ll be back before you know it, Sweetheart.” 

You squeeze him tight and then his lips are on yours, soft and sweet. 

Tommy clears his throat. “You ready to go? You don’t have time to take her back to bed, Joel.” 

You flip him off. Joel gives you another sturdy kiss for good measure. Tommy rolls his eyes. 

You walk with them to the front of the stables, Joel’s free hand in yours. “Be safe.” 

“Always.” He squeezes your hand. 

He’s about to mount his horse, but quickly changes paths. Handing Tommy his mare’s reins, he kisses you again until you’re both breathless. Tommy shakes his head, teasing grin on his lips from on top of his horse. Joel smiles at you like you hold his whole world because you do. “I love you.”

“Stay safe out there,” you say as Joel takes the reins back, mounting the horse. “I love you.”

“Always, Darlin.” He winks at you.

You look at Tommy. “Don’t let him do anything stupid.”

Tommy chuckles. “As if I could start now.”

Joel rolls his eyes. “We’re losing daylight, little brother.” 

You step back. Joel winks at you. “Love you,” and then they’re off. 

Fuck, Fuck, Fuck. The words echo in Joel’s mind. There are too many of them. How did they all get here? Jackson is supposed to be too far out for this many infected. His mind races, desperately scanning for an out, while also trying to keep himself and Tommy alive.

Then the girl shows up, like a light in the darkness offering up a plan of escape. He takes it. Who wouldn’t? He wants to see his family again. He doesn’t ask or wonder what the girl is doing here with a group of friends. There’s no time for caution. It’s a way to get out- a way back. The only thing on his mind is getting back to you in one piece. 

Once they’re safely behind the gate, inside the house- he knows this place. It’s yours- well your grandparents. It starts to sink in. He counts at least 8. He sees the looks between them when he introduces himself. Something's not right. 

“Say, what brings y’all out here?”

The room is quiet. They’re staring at him like he should know them, but they’re too young to have known him before. He exchanges a look with Tommy. Then there’s a shotgun in his face. Before he can comprehend that this is the end, it goes off at his knee. Joel yells out in pain. He can see his femur. His arms are pinned. A tourniquet is placed around his thigh to keep him from bleeding out. Two of the other guys hold Tommy back. 

The girl, Abby, holds a golf club. Of all the ways Joel imagined dying, this was not it. He can hardly hear her through the pain and the thoughts swirling in his mind. There’s no getting out of this. There’s no help on the way. This is the end. It hits him like a blow to the chest. There’s no seeing Willa’s dance retail on Wednesday. No more playing catch with Carter. No chance for Ellie to forgive him. No more holding you. 

The words hurt as they come out. It feels like giving up because it is. “Just get it over with.” 

His words seem to anger Abby. He doesn’t know who she is, doesn’t know who her friends are, but he knows he’s about to die. He knows the look in their eyes. He’s all too acquainted with revenge. 

Then another thought pops into his head as his eyes move from Abby’s. It’s the dark stain in front of the fireplace. It could pass off as dirt and grime now. You spent years trying to get it out, but he knows it’s blood. Carter’s blood. He can’t let this happen here. He can’t give you another reason to hate this place. Another bad memory to tarnish the good ones. 

“This won’t be fast.” The golf club collides with his ribs. 

He coughs, sputtering as his lungs struggle to recover from the blow. Abby paces in front of him stalking like a predator does to its prey. Taunting him. 

“Please,” he wheezes. “Not here. Somewhere…” he inhales deeply. “Somewhere else.”

Abby seems taken aback by the request. 

“Anywhere but here.” It hurts to draw breath, but it’s getting easier. “Outside-“

“So you can freeze before I’m done? I don’t think so.” 

Abby’s foot collides with his face. There’s the unmistakable crunch of a broken nose. Blood flows from it. 

“Please. Not here.” He meets her eyes. The golf club strikes his lungs again. 

Joel sees it. She won’t give in. He’s going to die here. His blood will mingle with your brother’s. He’s failed you. 

He lets his brain take him away from what’s happening, but each blow brings him back to reality. He’s thinking about you, the last thing he said. Did he tell you he loved you? The next hit knocks the air out of him. He left the house without waking you up. He almost left without seeing you this morning. He’s pretty sure the next one hits a kidney. He thanks whatever god is there you woke up. That he got to see you one last time, feel your lips against his. 

One of his ribs cracks. 

He waited too goddamn long to tell you he loves you. He didn’t say it nearly enough in the short time he had. 

Two more ribs shatter. 

Maria comes over to the clinic after watching the blizzard roll over the mountains. It’s hitting Jackson now, but you're worried about the people sent out there today, the ones who sit at your family table in particular. Ellie, Dina, and Jesse left a few hours after Joel and Tommy 

You’re organizing shelves to keep yourself busy, sure at least one person will wander in with frostbite shortly. It’s a good distraction from the other worries at hand. 

“Willa ready for her dance recital?”

“I can barely get her out of the wings to go to bed.” A smile flutters over your lips.

Maria laughs. “I was talking to Rachel last night. She’s running around like crazy trying to make sure they have everything ready.”

“I bet… I’m glad they’re doing this though. It’s been an especially cold winter.”

You’d lost more patrols to the cold than to Infected this year. That hadn’t happened before. 

“They’ll be okay,” Maria says. “Always are.”

The radio crackles to life before you can respond. Your stomach drops. Only two outposts have radios. You only use them in emergencies, preferring to stay off the radios whenever possible. 

“Outpost 2 to base.” Dina’s voice filters through the static affected by the ensuing storm. 

Your stomach drops. Maria picks up the receiver. “Base to Outpost 2- Dina is that you?”

“Maria?” 

“Dina, is everyone okay?”

Your heart feels like it might beat out of your chest. It’s a stupid question. You don’t use the radios when everything is okay. Outpost 2 is a 4-hour ride from here. In the blizzard, it’s probably longer. You start putting your kit together. 

“I don’t know- Jesse said Joel and Tommy missed their check-in.” The supplies in your hands clatter to the floor. You make eye contact with Maria. “We split up to look for them. I’m going to head toward the Baldwin Mansion to find Ellie. No trace of them this way.” 

You freeze, heart stopping. Not there. Anywhere but there. You lock eyes with Maria. “You shouldn’t-” But her words set your resolve.

“I’m going.” 

“It’s not safe-”

“It’s Joel and Tommy!” 

You don’t want to. You swore you’d never go back there, but this is Joel. If you aren’t there to help him, you’ll never forgive yourself. 

“Maria?” Dina comes through fuzzy as the blizzard interferes with the frequency. 

You can probably make it there about the same time Dina will. It won’t be easy, but you can do it. You have to. You stuff a few more things into your backpack.

“We’ll meet you there.”

“Be careful, there’s definitely a colony coming in.”

“You too.”

Maria drops the receiver, looking at you. “I’ll go have them saddle up a couple of horses, check out a few firearms.” 

You nod, focused on what to bring. You don’t have time to spare tears. Tears will freeze as soon as you’re outside and dehydrate you. 

You meet Maria by the stables. She hands you a rifle and a pistol. It’s been a long time since you rode out like this. You both know the implications if you don’t come back, but you don’t hesitate when the gate opens. 

Infected, burnt to a crisp, are pushed to the side and the gate is wide open when you arrive. It’s an eerie sight. Someone was here. 

A horse whinnies in the distance. The snow has slowed down but still creates a cover. You pull the pistol from the holster at your thigh, adrenaline pumping. Two figures come into view. 

“It’s us!” Dina calls out. Jesse rides beside her. You relax some, but your anxiety still rides high. 

You find Joel and Tommy’s horses in the garage. It’s all wrong. They wouldn’t have left the gate open, not with all those infected out there even burnt up. You keep your guard up as you clear the house room by room. Jesse and Dina don’t ask how you seem to know this place like the back of your hand. You avoid the den, leaving it for last. You hope to hear their playful banter drifting from room to room, but the house is silent. 

When you come to the den, you let the others take the lead. You’re struggling to keep your hands steady, and before you can enter the room, you hear their curses. You smell the blood before you see it. It’s splattered on everything around. Then you see him. Joel, your Joel, laying in his own blood. Your ears ring, pressure building between them. Your vision turns red. It’s so familiar and Carter’s limp body flashes before your eyes. A sob gets stuck in your throat. Maria’s arms are around you, keeping you upright before you realize your legs have given out. You stare at him. You wish you could stop looking at it, but you can’t as the sight sears itself into your memory. 

For the first time, your prayer changes. Please, let him be dead. You shudder. Because if he’s not dead, he’s suffering, and there’s nothing you can do about it. 

Dina rouses Ellie on the other side of the room. Jesse helps Tommy into a sitting position. They seem okay, physically, but your brain barely comprehends it all. You look at him, battered and bruised. The bone of his right knee is exposed. It’s the work of a shotgun at close range. There’s a tourniquet around his thigh. Your stomach drops. This wasn’t some random hit. They wanted him alive as long as possible. 

Your eyes drift around the room. A bloodied golf club lays in front of the fireplace. Joel’s fresh red blood drips over the fading remnants of your brother’s causing bile to burn in your throat. 

“You have to do something.” Ellie looks at you. Tears streak her face. Anger and rage fit for a grown man rattle her small frame. “You’re the only one who can help him!”

You shake your head. The tears fall freely now. You try to get the words out, but it's like someone has shoved cotton down your throat. Your tongue flops uselessly in your mouth. “Ellie- I can’t-” Your words are scattered and disjointed. Maria cradles your head against her chest, “There’s-” 

Joel groans. Your heart stops. The world goes silent. He does it again. This time, one of his fingers twitches.

“Oh my God…” Maria breaths. 

Tommy curses under his breath. You feel it heavy in your chest. Fuck. 

None of it’s from relief. It’s pure horror. Because you all know, he’s not coming back from this. 

Ellie rushes forward. She touches Joel’s hand. You see the hope radiating as she locks eyes with you. “You can still save him.”

It’s a stab to your chest. “No, I can’t.”

You watch the light flicker from her eyes. “You have to! You fucking have to!” The tears flood her eyes. “C��mon, Joel. You have to get up! Fucking get up!” 

She presses on his shoulder in an attempt to get him to his back. He groans out in pain. The knife in your chest twists. 

She stops, choking on her tears. “Joel… please get up.” Her voice is weaker now. Her pants soak with dark red. 

He grunts out something that sounds something like “Ellie.” 

“You motherfucker.” She cries, but it’s an endearment. You catch the slight uptick of Joel's colorless lips. Ellie can’t stop crying. Trying to wipe the tears away, she leaves streaks of blood on her cheeks. Joel tries, but he can’t get anything else out. 

You lean further into Maria’s grasp but she can’t squeeze you tight enough, only Joel could ever do that. 

Something in Ellie snaps. The tears stop, and her breathing settles. It’s like watching a person go from human to robot, except she looks more like the girl you met 7 years ago, and less the angry young woman you’ve come to know. There’s a telepathy going on between them. You’ve seen it so many times before. Her hand rests on top of his. Her head nods like she knows what he’s trying to say. 

“I forgive you.” 

It knocks the air from your lungs. Tommy’s too. You know what it’s about. You know how big this moment is. The weight on your chest lightens a little bit. 

Ellie looks up at you, and motions you toward them. “He wants you.” 

She moves from Joel’s side, making space for you. You lay down next to him, not caring about the blood-soaked carpet around and the way it bleeds into your clothes. Gently, you run your fingers through his blood-matted hair. “Hey, Baby.” You’re careful not to cause more pain with your touch.  

His eyes meet yours. You see the sparkle of tears in them. He attempts to talk again in a long slow slur. You can barely make it out. “I’m sorry” 

The knife is pulled from your chest cavity, the pain so physical you shudder. His index finger moves over your left knuckle and your chest shakes again. You force a smile. You just want him to be at peace, “It’s okay, Joel.” 

His head shakes briefly, barely noticeable, but you’re tuned in to his every movement, his every breath, his every heavy heartbeat. “It’s okay.” You kiss his hand, then his forehead. It’s sweaty and the tang of blood hits your senses. “We’ll be okay. You can let go.” You whisper it in his ear. A tear rolls down his cheek. You want him to let go so fucking badly. You don’t want to do what’s required. What you wouldn’t do for Carter. 

His lips move but nothing comes out. It seems to frustrate him. Tears roll down your cheeks. He’s trapped in a body that doesn’t work but refuses to let him go. “Shhhh, I know, Joel. I know.” It’s the same voice you used to soothe your infants. “I love you.”

His hand squeezes yours gently. You give him a nod. He lets his eyes flutter closed. You lay there for longer than you should. It’s selfish, but you don’t think you’ll be able to do it if you don’t take your time. Finally, you sit up. Tommy comes over to say his goodbyes. You’re not paying attention, too focused on what you have to do. 

His hunting knife is still strapped to his ankle like it always is. You look it over even though you’ve seen it a million times. It’s big enough. It’ll work. You just pray you can go through with it. Maria joins Tommy at Joel’s side.

“Jesse?” you say. “Will you get a blanket to cover him. There should be a big comforter in the hallway closet.”

You catch the confusion in his eyes. How would you know that? But he nods, following your instructions without questions. You lay the knife on the floor and catch Ellie staring at it. You see it in her eyes. She knows what’s about to happen. You hope she doesn’t blame you. 

You can’t meet her eyes as you whisper it out. “It’s what-”

“I know.” She says quickly, her voice still wavering. “I know.”

“Tommy, help me get him on his back. I don’t-“ you choke up. You let the tears flow freely, but you will your medical training to take over. Except, this isn’t fucking medical care. It’s not even fucking palliative care. It’s cruel mercy. You aren’t trained in that. “I don’t think I can do it properly with him on his stomach.” 

You, Tommy, and Maria work together to get him on his back as gently as possible. He cries out with each movement. It’s torturous. Each noise comes from a deeper part of his body. You swallow back bile each time. You have to get this right the first time. If you don’t, you’re not sure you can do it a second. 

Jesse drops the comforter beside you. It’s the one with little pink rose buds, the one you always used to sleep under the stars, big enough to curl around you like a cocoon even as a grown adult, the one you and Joel picnicked on when you visited last. Your fingers run over it with the memories- so many nights spent under the stars dreaming of the future. It provides you with little comfort now. It's purely practical, thick enough to absorb whatever blood Joel has left in him. More memories washed in blood.  

Ellie is huddled in the corner, back turned to it all. Dina is at her side. Maria never takes her eyes off you. Finally, he’s on his back. You unbutton his flannel, use the knife to cut open his under shirt. Deep, dark bruises mare his skin. You can see where they targeted the most. Places to inflict maximum pain and prolong suffering. You focus at the place between his left ribs. His breathing is labored. You hear it with each breath, see it in the rise and fall of his chest. The spot on his chest taunts you, dares you to do it. 

You turn to Maria. “As soon as it’s out… cover him with the blanket.” You don’t want to see the wound.

You look at his face. You think he’s unconscious now. You pray he doesn’t feel it, hope his brain has taken him away from reality. Pressing your forehead to his, you tell him you love him again. There’s no response and no indication he hears you. 

You steady your breathing. “Ellie?” You look to her for permission. 

She barely meets your eyes but nods. 

You look back to Joel. You mentally clear the blood from his features. He looks peaceful now. You memorize his face as you know it, not how it appears. You look down at his ribs again. You touch the space and count with shaking hands.

You glance at the 17 year old stain reminding you of the way you failed Carter. You won’t fail Joel. You can almost feel your brother’s ghost at your side, assuring you this is the only option, assuring you there’s truly no chance to save the man you love, and it comforts you. This place homes your best memories and your worst nightmares. You wonder if Joel’s ghost will stay here, pacing the halls with Carter’s or follow you home. 

Then you recount the ribs, making sure you get it right through the blur of your vision. You feel his heart beating under your hand, the very heart you’re about to stop. You can do this…

There’s a hand on your shoulder, another on your wrist. Tommy crouches behind you. He takes the knife without a word. His eyes say it all. He’ll do it. You don’t have to bear the weight of it. You should tell him that he doesn’t have to bear it either, but you don’t because the truth is you’re just relieved you don’t have to. 

You lay a finger on Joel’s chest. Tommy’s replaces it. “Make sure-”

“I know.” Tommy’s eyes meet yours. You’ve never really contemplated how much they look like Joel’s until now. It’s reassuring. There’s a piece of Joel in him. “Just be with him.” 

You nod silently, Joel’s words echoing in your mind. “If it’s something else that gets me… where I’m not putting you in danger… I want the last thing I hear to be your voice. Not a gunshot. That’s all.” 

You scoot up so you’re only able to see his face. His hand feels cold under yours. You push his hair back again. Ellie joins you on the floor. You can tell she’s barely holding it together. 

You feel Tommy prepare himself behind you. You know when he goes for it, sliding Joel’s hunting knife in with the precision of an expert. You hear it slice through skin and muscle. It’s piercing, playing on repeat in your head. Joel grunts with it, moans once it’s withdrawn. 

Tommy drops the knife like it's on fire. Maria settles the blanket over Joel’s body.

Your eyes never move from his face. He gasps, air wheezing from him like a punctured balloon. It’s awful. It makes your stomach curl and twist and your chest rattle. You want to curl up and die with him at the mere sound of it. It feels like it will never stop, but you talk him through it. You hold Ellie close to you in one arm and cup his face in the other as you repeat the words from earlier. 

It’s okay. 

You can let go. 

We’ll be okay. 

I love you. 

You make sure your voice is the last thing he hears… and then finally, mercifully, he stops breathing. As much as your heart throbs, you feel like you can finally breathe again because he’s no longer trapped in a body that won’t work, no longer in pain. He’s free. 

You lean down to kiss his cheek. You whisper in his ear. “Say hello to Sarah for me.” 

You give it time. Watching his face, finger tips tracing his features. Denial brushes through your mind, expecting him to open his eyes, to smile, to laugh. It doesn’t happen. It won’t happen ever again. 

When you stand, it hits you like a freight train. Your breath hitches. You remember this from last time.This can’t happen, not here. You bolt from the room, putting as many walls between you and the others as possible. You don’t care how cold the furthest bedroom- your bedroom- might be, your skin feels like it’s boiling, melting from your bones. 

You’re barely across the threshold when the sob leaves your body. It sounds otherworldly, but you’ve heard it before, too many times. You’re all too familiar with it all. When will it end? When everyone you love is dead? Taken from you in different horrific ways each time? 

Maria’s arms wrap around you and the two of you sink to the ground. You don’t quiet your mourning for her as it rattles the walls. It’s still not far enough. Your muted cries haunt the rest of the group until your voice gives out. 

You stay the night at the mansion. It’s too dark to try and make it back to Jackson. Tommy and Jesse move Joel’s body to the garage where it’s colder. Maria builds a fire in the room that’s not soaked in his blood. 

You ignore the curious looks when you navigate the house with familiarity and manage to rummage up new clothes to replace blood-soaked ones. Ellie wears your Fleetwood Mac t-shirt from high school. You used to wear it all the time until you lost it, stuffed into the bin of clothes you never opened following outbreak day. It would be too small for you now, but it layers over the clean long sleeve shirt she found. It’s one of Grandpa’s old flannels for you. You’re thankful you never dug into this bin when you lived here. 

Before you leave, you stop under the old oak tree where the small bounder marks Carter’s shallow grave. You promise him you mean it this time when you say you’re never coming back. You’re tempted to burn the place to the ground, but it’s too good of a resting spot for patrol when they get stuck, protected by the gate. 

When you get home, you care for Joel’s body. There’s no embalming process. Usually you bury your dead the day after, but the ground is frozen solid. You’ll likely have to wait a few weeks to bury him. He stays in the small enclosed room off the back of the clinic where it’s cold enough to keep him. 

It’s after dinner time Monday night when you finally drag yourself up the front steps. You’ve been avoiding it. You don’t want to go home without him. 

Carter and Willa play Jenga with Morgan. You’re not sure you can tell them, so you watch your children through the front window. You memorize their smiles and the light in their eyes before this cruel world marks them with its claws. Willa knocks the tower over. She seems to enjoy it. His sweet little Wildflower. 2 months shy of her 4th birthday, will she remember him? Or will he be like a dream? Another ghost that haunts the footnotes of her life? Tears stream down your neck. 

“They don’t know yet?”

You spin around to find Ellie. She has dark bags under her eyes, shoulders slumping. “No, I just got home. I’ve been at the clinic all day.”

Ellie nods, peering into the window beside you. The two of you watch as they rebuild the tower and the game starts all over again. “I forget how much she looks like him.”

You manage a smile. “I’m not convinced she has a drop of my DNA in her.”

“Not with that fucker’s genes.”

A laugh interrupts your tears. It sounds so normal coming from Ellie. She wears a dutiful interpretation of her signature smirk. You could hug her, but you don’t. She’s not the most touchy feel y person and you imagine she’s had her full share the past 24 hours. Has he really been gone that long now? Yes. Somehow, it feels like it’s been years, yet you still expect him to walk toward you at any minute. 

You go inside without another word. Ellie follows, and you’re thankful for it. It feels right to have her there. 

“Mommy!” Willa gasps as soon as you open the door. She runs for you, still dressed in her butterfly costume. 

You pull her into your arms, squeezing her tightly. “Hey sweet girl.” You kiss her cheek. You hadn’t realized how badly your arms ached to hold your babies. 

“Where’s Dad?” Carter asks.

The question stops your heart. You can hear it in his voice. He knows. He’s barely 10, but he’s seen this in other people so many times before, and he’s put the pieces together. Death isn’t a foreign concept to him. He probably knew the moment he saw Tommy come home with Joel nowhere in sight. Carter keeps space between you. “Where is he?” 

Willa squirms in your arms like she's looking for Joel now too. You let her slide to the ground. 

“Carter…” You move closer. 

He steps backwards. You see the tears sparkle in his eyes bringing out your own. Both your children favor their biological fathers more than yourself. It slices deeper tonight. You manage to steady your voice. 

“Dad had a really bad accident while he was on patrol-“

“You’re lying! He has to come back! He always comes back!”

Maybe one day you’ll tell him all of it. Someone did this on purpose, but you don’t know who or why. He’s too young. You won’t have him overrun with the idea of revenge. Tommy is already plotting after the group that did this. 

You shake your head, tears falling again. You don’t know if they’ll ever stop. You go to your son, desperate to hold him, but he dashes upstairs, bedroom door slamming behind him. Do you go after him? 

Willa’s arms wrap around your leg. You fall to the stairs, placing her in your lap. Your body is exhausted. Ellie sits down next to you. “Where did daddy go?” 

You’ve been wracking your brain all day on how this will all make sense in her young mind. “You know how Daddy talks about Sarah?” 

She nods. You push back her soft brown curls. The texture has started to change in the past six months. It feels less silky and fine, and more like his. “He said she died, but she watches over us now.”

“Yeah… that’s right-“ you bite your lip. “Daddy went to be with Sarah.”

“When is he coming back?”

Ellie cringes in your periphery. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy. “Willa… Daddy died. He can’t come back.”

“Not even for my recital?”

“No.”

You’re still not sure she gets it, but you see the tears well up in her eyes. Joel promised her he would be there. He always kept his promises. You want her to know that her Daddy didn’t abandon her, but it’s difficult to get that across. To her, Sarah is an abstract. Joel is concrete. The thought sends a pang through your chest.

“You know how your heart beats?” You put her hand over your heart. She nods. “That means you’re alive, and me, and Ellie, and Carter. We all have beating hearts.”

“I listen to Daddy’s when he rocks me.” 

You smile. The vision of Willa and Joel passed out in the rocking chair is one of your favorites. “Daddy’s heart got really hurt.” The slice of the knife echoes in the caverns of your mind. “It stopped beating.” 

His wheezing plays in your ears.  

“He stopped being alive?”

Joel’s final strangled breath carves into your brain.

 You nod carefully. “Yes, once that happens, it can’t be fixed.”

She sits with it for a minute. You see the wheels in her head turning. 

“He didn’t have a choice.” You wrap one of her curls around your finger.  “He would choose to be alive with us if he could.” 

“I miss him.” 

She lays her head on your shoulder. You kiss her head. 

“Me too, Wildflower.”

On Wednesday night, the seat beside you remains empty, like everyone is purposefully keeping it that way. You’re not sure if you like it. Is it a sign of respect toward Joel? Or are they afraid to be near you? Death comes in threes. It must be contagious. 

Carter sits between Ellie and Dina. They were sitting next to each other when you arrived. Carter still doesn’t want to talk to you, but he will talk to Ellie. 

The lights dim for the recital. It’s more of a silent movie of sorts. Rachel plays the piano. The music changes throughout the scenes. You spent all last night trying to get a grass stain out of Willa’s butterfly costume. You’re not sure if it was the soap or the tears that removed the last of it. 

You reach over on instinct, expecting your fingers to meet a denim clad thigh, but your hand falls to the wooden chair instead. Your eyes drift out the window. You can see the clinic at the end of the street. You know exactly where he lays, even from the outside. Everything around you blurs. You feel pieces of yourself slowly drift into the atmosphere bit by bit. 

Maria drops into the chair next to you. She grabs your hand squeezing it between both of hers. “Hey, I’ve got you” The pieces come back, snapping together like a jigsaw puzzle. “Look,” She points. “Willa’s almost up. You don’t want to miss it.”

You’re back, but Maria doesn’t let go. She anchors you. She knows exactly what to say to do it. She’s an expert in it by now. You don’t see the worry in her eyes, the guilt etched in the lines of her forehead. She doesn’t say it, never expresses the guilt she carries over what happened. If only she had asked someone else to take the shift. It’s the second time she’s failed you. 

Willa flits and flutters across the stage. In the context of the play, you’re pretty sure she’s actually supposed to be a fairy, but you know that Willa was only interested in being a butterfly. The costume is the same either way. 

She breaks character for a moment, loudly telling one of the other kids they are not where they are supposed to be, and then continues on as if nothing happened. There’s the rumble of laughter and Willa wears a smug smile. 

You feel a hand on your shoulder, but when you turn to look, no one is there. You can still feel the pressure on your shoulder. Then you hear it just behind your ear, That’s our Wildflower right there. It brings tears to your eyes again. 

With one last exuberant twirl the magical fairy, or in this case butterfly, heals the land. 

You squeeze Maria’s hand as people stand to applaud. You manage to get to your feet in time to watch your daughter take a bow and then another and another. She’s soaking in the attention. It tugs a smile to your face. 

When Willa bounces off the stage, you pull her in tight. “You were so good. I’m so proud of you,  Wildflower.” 

She smiles brightly. It's a relief in one of the worst times of your life. She gets close to your ear, like she’s telling you a secret. “I think Daddy saw it. I think him and Sarah watched it together.”

You smile back at her. You know they did. “Me too.”

Tag List: @pedrotonin @amyispxnk @joeldjarin @ilovepedro @justagalwhowrites

@missladym1981 @jessthebaker @annieispunk @ashleyfilm @moel-jiller

@eloquentdreamer @lizzie-cakes @hiroikegawa

[whereianonymouslypostfics]

In The Night

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Word count: ~3.3k

Summary: Late night out

A/N: Another risk assessment

Warnings: stalking, violence, blood, hurt/comfort

The years you’ve spent with your wife have only heighted your already healthy paranoia. You didn’t go anywhere alone after dark if you could help it, and if you did, you tried to at least have your dog with you. 

Tonight, you only had yourself to blame. It was nearly 10 o’clock and you’d watched as night fell from where you sat with some of your friends and Boone at a brewery near work. You didn’t drink much because you never do, but you’ve eaten enough to become pleasantly full and a little sleepy. You reach out to pet your dog and smile when he sniffs your hand for any morsel of food. You haven’t given him anything but his treats under the table, and you know he’s not very happy about this. 

“It’s getting late.” 

You say this despite it being way earlier than the last night you’d spent out with your friends. However, this time you have your dog, and you also want to get home to your wife. She’s texted a couple of times, and seeing a picture of her on the couch with Fletcher makes you want to get home sooner so you can join her.

You hug your friends goodbye before they leave you and Boone to head back to your car only a couple of blocks away. 

You’re only a little on edge as you leave the bright lights of the brewery behind you for the dimly lit streets. You figure Bucky is nearby, but you try to walk as quickly as you can without seeming like you’re running. Boone’s walking beside you and you’re holding his leash in a white knuckled grip as you turn the corner down the road where your car is parked. 

The sound of her phone ringing from the coffee table jolts Wanda back to consciousness. She hadn’t realized she’d fallen asleep until she sees that the show she’d been watching has stopped playing, and Fletcher was nowhere in sight. She sighs as she reaches for her phone and answers it almost before it’s to her ear when she sees it’s Bucky. As usual, he was following you around since you were away from home. Hopefully he was calling to tell her that you were on your way back. 

“Hey Bucky.” 

“Wanda, I need you to meet me downtown. Now.” 

Wanda’s already off the couch and running to the garage before Bucky’s finished speaking. She asks what’s wrong, but she doesn’t wait for a response as she slams her hand against the garage door opener just outside the door as she steps into a pair of boots before running for her car. Wanda jumps inside and the engine roars to life before she backs the car out almost before the garage door is all the way opened. 

“We’re going to meet whoever’s been tailing you for the past couple of weeks.” 

Your car is only about 100 feet away, and at this point it’s one of the only ones on the street given the late hour. You pick up the pace a bit before reaching into your pocket for the key fob to start the car. You’re still 50 feet away when the engine cuts on and you breathe a sigh of relief. You’re almost to your car when you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket. You smile when you see it’s Wanda and you’re opening the passenger door to let Boone jump in when you hear your wife’s voice come through your car speakers. 

“Hey Wands.” 

You’re fiddling with your phone so you can still hear your wife as you shut the door and step off the sidewalk. 

“Y/n, where are you? Are you safe?” 

You stop in your tracks at Wanda’s frantic voice, and you’re about to tell her that you’re fine when you hear something behind you. You don’t get a chance to turn around when something is thrown over your head and pulled tight against your throat. You gasp and drop your phone as your hands go to grab at the cord that’s quickly tightening around your neck. You can’t see much through the hood over your head, but you see shadows moving around you as you’re dragged back onto the sidewalk. You hear Boone’s muffled bark from inside the car and realize that you should have gotten in first. Or at the very least not shut the door on him.

You’re kicking and trying to regain your footing as you gasp for breath, but when you feel someone try to grab your legs, you realize you’re running out of time. You hiss out a curse as you reach to your right side where you have a hunting knife stashed under your jacket. 

Your brother-in-law had gotten it for you as a gag gift because he knew how much you hated the idea of hunting. After seeing your wide-eyed, confused expression, he’d told you and Wanda that it was something you could use to protect yourself. He’d even suggested putting it in Boone’s harness pouch of weapons. 

You’re extremely grateful that you’d chosen not to do this tonight as you feel the handle against your fingers and quickly yank the knife out from under your jacket. You bring it down behind you as hard as you can, and you hear a satisfying scream when you bury your knife into the man’s thigh. You gasp when you’re dropped and air floods into your lungs as you rip the hood off your head and breathe in deeply. You look up from where you’re on your knees to see that the person who’d been trying to help cart you off to who knows where was about to grab you again. You don’t have time to think about it, and you raise the knife that you luckily held onto. 

“You bitch!” 

You blink when you realize that you sliced open his cheek, but he’s still coming after you. You curse as you try to catch your breath enough to stand up, but movement out of the corner of your eye makes you pause. You open your mouth to curse again, but you don’t make it in time. 

You can only watch as Boone jumps out the now open window and lunges at the bleeding man in front of you. You’re barely on your feet when you feel someone grab your hair and yank you backwards. Your world spins and you’re shoved against brick, your hand that’s holding the knife stuck between you and the wall. 

“Fuck-.” 

You don’t know what would have happened next, but the feeling of more hands on you tells you enough to be grateful for the rescue. You hear tires squealing and multiple gun shots that make you flinch in anticipation. You hear your dog snarling and you decide you need to figure out what’s going on, so you push back as hard as you can against the body that’s at least a hundred pounds heavier than you. He stumbles but doesn’t fall, but it’s enough for you to have time to turn around and kick him to the ground. 

You look around frantically for the next threat, and can’t help the way you fall against the wall breathless. Now that you’re able to think, you realize that you hurt all over, and each ragged breath you take burns. 

“Y/n!”

You finally notice the car parked behind your own, and see that Wanda is running toward you. You glance down when you see that Boone is still mauling the guy who choked you and you barely even flinch when Wanda hits him in the head with the gun that you just realized she’s holding. 

“Y/n, we need to go. Can you give Bucky your keys?” 

You flinch violently when Bucky appears out of nowhere and comes to stand by you. You see that he has a cut above his brow and a couple of bruises on his face. You don’t have time to ask what happened and you’re reaching for your keys without a word. You’re too dazed to say anything as Bucky gets in your car and starts it up again before he takes off. 

You let Wanda lead you to her car that’s still running, and she opens the door for you before hurrying to the driver’s side. Boone jumps into the open back window and Wanda raises it before she takes off after Bucky. You don’t hear the sirens in the distance, but Wanda does and she takes a deep breath before speeding to catch up with Bucky. 

“Are you okay, detka? Where are you hurt?” 

Only then, do you realize that you’d been holding your breath since your wife arrived, and you gasp again before you double over and start coughing. You’re shaking by the time you drop the bloodied knife at your feet, and you struggle to catch your breath as your head throbs. 

You squeeze your eyes shut and try to focus on breathing as Wanda speaks up. You don’t realize that she’s on the phone, until you look up and see that she’s hanging up on them. You sigh and lean back in your seat with a shake of your head. 

“It’s okay. I don-no doctors, okay?” 

Wanda frowns and turns to you briefly before she looks back to the road with a sigh. It’s just light enough in the car for her to see that you’re bleeding, but other than a small scratch on your face, she can’t tell where it’s coming from. She’s also not sure why you’re coughing which is worrying her, but she’s already made arrangements to have a doctor waiting at the house by the time you get back. Instead of arguing with you about this right now, she decides to figure out what she can about what happened. 

“Y/n, where are you hurt? I’ll drive us to the hospital right now unless you tell me.”

This gets your attention and you take a moment to focus on your aching body. Your head hurts probably from being slammed into a brick wall, or maybe the brief oxygen deprivation, and your knees and stomach hurt. It’s not until you mention your stomach that you look down and see that you’re bleeding. 

You’re not sure how that happened, but you can’t be bothered by this right now. You’d rather figure out what the hell happened tonight. 

“What-who were those people?” 

What did they want? 

You don’t bother asking this question because Wanda understands without it. You watch as her grip on the steering wheel tightens as she drives away from town and up toward the mountain road that will lead to your house. You aren’t going to tell Wanda this now because you hope she’ll offer an explanation, but you had a feeling as soon as you sat down for dinner tonight, that something would happen. 

You’re paranoid, for sure, but as soon as you’d reached town and parked, you felt eyes on you. This was confirmed when you noticed the same nondescript car drive by the brewery at least three times. It wasn’t a weekend; parking shouldn’t have been that difficult to find. Then the second hint had been the fact that Bucky had left the restaurant about an hour before you did, and then he never came back. 

You had figured that he was going to wait somewhere else, somewhere still in sight, but apparently he’d been searching for the same tail you noticed. 

“Bucky thinks they were trying to take you for ransom. He tried to track them down when he called me, and they ended up running him off the road.”

Your eyes widen at this and you realize now why Bucky looked so beat up. You make a mental note to check on him tomorrow, but for now you’re just grateful he was able to call Wanda before it was too late. 

You groan under your breath when Wanda pulls into the driveway beside an unfamiliar car. She turns off the car once you’re in the garage, and she comes to your side as soon as you open the door to help you out. You don’t complain or argue because you’re suddenly exhausted, and you just barely remember to retrieve your dog from the backseat. 

“Good evening, Mrs. Maximoff, Dr. Maximoff.” 

You turn so quickly that your neck protests, but the sound of an unfamiliar voice immediately puts you on edge. Wanda turns much slower, and makes sure to keep Boone back when you notice the doctor she’d called to come look at you. You try not to sigh in defeat when you see a woman in a white coat holding a small black bag at her side. You don’t want to be rude, but you really just wanted to lie down on the couch for a minute before falling into bed. 

“Dr. Blackwood. I hope we haven’t kept you waiting long. Please come in.” 

As you are led inside, you see Bucky pull your car up beside the doctor’s. You want to talk to him now, but you have a feeling Wanda won’t let you, and it would also be rude to make the doctor that had already been waiting on you wait any longer. 

You tamp down your urge to go sit on the couch, and instead head to one of the chairs at the dining room table. You sigh heavily as you sit down and watch as Wanda plays the role of a host and anxious partner at the same time. 

Finally, after returning with a glass of water for you, despite your desire for something stronger, she sits down in the chair beside you and waits for the doctor to finish setting up. It’s only then that you notice her outfit. She hadn’t changed from what you’d seen from the picture she sent you hours ago. She was still wearing sweatpants, and a flannel shirt that you easily recognized. You reach out for her with a smile and tug at the hem as you meet your wife’s gaze.

“This is mine.” 

Wanda just smiles at you before reaching up to wipe some of the dried blood from your cheek. Now that she can see you better, she immediately notices your bruised jaw and the dark angry marks around your neck. She regrets not shooting everyone when she realizes what some of the sounds she’d heard through the phone meant. She glances down at your bloodied shirt just as Dr. Blackwood finishes setting out everything she’ll need. 

“Dr. Maximoff, would you mind removing your jacket so I can examine you?” 

You tell her that she doesn’t have to call you that, but the look on her face although appropriately polite tells you she’s not going to drop the formality. Not in front of Wanda. You decide it’s not worth arguing about, and you shift slightly as Wanda reaches out to help you take off your coat. You smile appreciatively before you sit up and move to the edge of your chair. 

The next few minutes are silent as the other doctor in the room listens to your heart and lungs and looks at your injuries. The scratch on your face isn’t serious, just annoying, and Wanda helps clean this one up as you hold up your shirt for the blonde to look at where you accidentally cut yourself. It’s deep enough to need a couple of stitches, and you try not to sigh in annoyance at the fact that you basically did this to yourself.

You’re trying to distract yourself from the sting of alcohol when you hear the garage door close. You look up just in time to hear the mudroom door open and Boone jump to his feet. There’s no growling though and Wanda doesn’t seem concerned so you aren’t either. You figure it’s Bucky or Steve, but when no one makes an appearance, you figure they’re waiting until you’re fixed up to discuss what happened. You listen to Boone pant for a bit before he comes back into the room to lie down on the rug in front of you. He’s able to watch you and the doctor from here, and you watch as he rolls onto his back with a yawn. 

You focus on your dog and do your best to check for any injuries from a few feet away. You grimace a little when the first stich is put in and you try to focus on the feeling of your wife’s hand running up and down your back. You jump in surprise and then curse when Fletcher suddenly appears in front of you, and it takes all of your self-restraint not to curse her out. She just looks at you expectantly before flicking her tail in your face as she walks by you to get to Wanda. 

“Do that again and I’m going to take you in for your annual visit early, Fletcher.” 

Your wife’s cat just ignores you and Wanda shakes her head and does her best to ignore her cat so as not to encourage her bad behavior. Eventually the tabby gets bored and leaves, and luckily by this time you’re all stitched up.

“Those can come out in a couple of weeks. I’ll leave you something for the pain. It will help with your neck too. Other than a sore throat for a couple of days, there shouldn’t be any lasting, physical damage.” 

You oddly appreciate the blonde’s precise wording and you just nod in response as you lower your shirt over the bandage. You see Bucky appear in the doorway and you smile before turning your attention back to your doctor. You can’t wait to get something to eat and then take some pain medication that will hopefully help you fall asleep. 

“Thank you, Dr. Blackwood.” 

The blonde nods before asking if you or Wanda have any questions. When you both shake your heads, she packs up and stands to leave. She half nods, half bows to Wanda and you can’t help but find it ridiculous. Bucky escorts the doctor out and Boone jumps to his feet when you stand up with a sigh. 

You turn to your wife with an apologetic look before you reach for her hand and bring it to your lips. 

“I’m sorry. I’m extremely rude. Thank you for saving my ass out there.”

Wanda can’t help but roll her eyes at you before she leans in to kiss your uninjured cheek. She doesn’t blame you for the delayed thanks. She figures you’re still a little rattled and just wanted to get you taken care of. She hates that you were hurt because of her, but she couldn’t lie and say she wasn’t proud of you for holding your own. She’s just grateful that your kidnappers were relying on stealth and didn’t shoot you. 

“Of course, detka. I’m always up for saving your ass.” 

This time you roll your eyes and Wanda laughs as you mutter something under your breath. She simply watches as you greet your dog before kneeling so you can get a good look at him. She glances over your shoulder when Bucky reappears and she can’t help but smile when she realizes that he had taken the time to get a couple of stitches too. 

She knew they had to talk about what happened tonight, and how she was going to respond. She had learned a long time ago that incidents like these were inevitable, and the best she could do was prepare everyone for them. Maybe you needed to train a little more when you were healed. She’d ask you about it later. For now, she just wanted a few minutes to ignore the sense of impending doom, and watch you play with your beloved dog. 

Masterlist

[princessdimondheart]

Sea of Cortéz | Price x Daughter! Reader | Ch.1

Pairing: Price + Daughter! Reader, Reader x OC, TF-141 x Platonic! Reader

Warnings: 🔪- death, bodies

Edited: No

A/N: I had this idea pop up while watching NCIS!!! So there might be some references or even a little crossover if I make more parts…Should I make more parts?? If so I have notes on what should happen next.

Masterlist 

Ch. 1 [Here] | Ch. 2

Character banner ©️ Me

1.

Gaz huffed as he grappled over a rocky outcrop. He was glad he remembered to put on his gloves for this mission. He had previously forgotten to pack his gloves for other missions and ended up with scuffs and scratches. A hand appeared in his line of sight. He reached up to grab hold of his Captain’s open hand. The older man grunted as he helped pull the younger man over. The rest of the Task Force had just made it up as well. 

They were on a reconnaissance mission to find different routes to an AQ compound. They also had to make note of their patrols, numbers, and any movement to and from. The known compound was hidden in a steep valley within a mountain range in the United Republic of Adal. If Gaz recalled correctly, Al Mazrah was just over 50 kilometers away from their current location. 

The Captain was making conversation about his grown daughter that Gaz had learned about at the beginning of the Task Force. The team was in the Captain’s office when Johnny was the first to notice a framed photo of a rather pretty lady, thinking it was his girlfriend or something. A scowling Price said that she was his daughter and that she looked more like her mother than him. That he had her at a very young age and her mother was never in the picture almost immediately after her birth. Now his Captain was trying to set him up with her. His face burned at the thought of dating his Captain’s own blood. He was feeling kinda proud that he would be considered worthy enough for Price’s daughter. Johnny was snickering at him with a grin so wide Gaz wanted to smack it right off his face. He scowled at the Scot. 

Ghost was on point with Soap just behind him. He and the Captain were in the back watching their six. They had made it down the other side of the rocky hill they climbed up to and we’re now making their way through a dry creek bed. The bed was dry with cracks splitting the top layers of dirt. The dry flecks crunched under their boots. 

Ghost rounded a bend and paused. “Fuckin’ hell. Hold.” He raised his clenched fist. 

Captain Price moved closer to Ghost. “What is it?”

“A bloody massacre…” His words and the lilt in his voice made Gaz’s blood run cold. 

~~~~~

There was carnage left behind from this most obvious ambush. The two vehicles were blasted to bits, likely from an IED or smaller explosives. The Marines here put up a good fight. Dozens of empty round casings littered the sandy ground. Although some died in the blast before they could make a defense. 

Four bodies were laid about around the vehicles. Based on their position they were fighting on two sides. Soap and Ghost began checking the bodies for any inkling as to why these Marines were here. They never received intel about another team being out in this region of Adal. 

Gaz and Price covered them, searching along the bluffs nearby and further upstream. He stood by Soap who’d crouched to grab something from the Marine’s pocket. 

“Oh, fuck!” Soap exclaimed. Gaz looked at him confused. Johnny help up the… photo… of a person I’m rather revealing clothing. Or lack of clothing. Why did her face look so familiar?

Then it clicked! That was Price’s daughter. She was much older in her semi-nude photograph but it was the same girl from the photo on Price’s desk. 

“I don’t think I’ll be getting that date with your daughter.” Gaz let out an awkward chuckle. He was definitely not going on a date when they went back. 

Price was confused by his words. He walked closer to the pair. “What do you mean, Kyle?” 

Soap makes sure her privacy was covered and shows it to Price. His frown was almost instant. 

“Is that… that.. a um,” he swallowed hard and shook his head. “A nude photo of my baby girl?” 

Ghost came closer. “Hmm… seems so…”

The Captain’s body was stiff and then he turned his head down to the man that was in possession of such a photo of his not so little girl. His brow in a heavy glare. “Who the bloody hell is this bloke to have a fuckin’ nude photo of my-!” He gave the Marine a rather disrespectful kick to his side. 

“Woah! Captain!” In the heat of the moment, trying to pull Price back before he did anything else he would regret, Gaz almost missed the soft groan that came from the body. 

“Oh meh god, he’s fuckin’ alive!” Johnny heard it too and yelled, falling to his knees to check the Marine’s pulse. “…It’s faint but there. He must of passed out from blood loss or pain.” 

Gaz looked at his shocked yet still confused Captain. “We need to call for a medevac.”

“Soap and I will stay and complete the mission as fast as possible.” Ghost slapped his large gloved hand on Price’s shoulder. “We’ll wrap the rest up before the helo comes and when you get back, you can handle whatever the ’ell is goin’ on ’ere.”

Price shook off his hand but agreed with what Ghost said. He called over the radio and a helicopter was inbound in 30 minutes. Gaz and Soap did what they could to help the Marine out. Wrapping him in bandages where he was shot. A bullet hit him in the right shoulder and another two in the left leg. From what Gaz could discern, the two bullets just missed his bone but he wasn’t sure if any major arteries were nicked. He wasn’t certain but the convoy must have been ambushed within the last 24 to 48 hours since this guy was still alive. The rest of the Marines were placed in body bags that they all carried in their packs just in case a mission went south. 

Just in time, the helicopter arrived just down stream from the ambush site. Sand blew around them in large puffs of clouds. All the bodies, dead and alive, were loaded up. The medics on board were immediately on the Marine still alive, treating his wounds and placing and IV drip before the doctors back on base could look him over and perform surgery. 

Price yelled into the headset he wore the moment they got on the helo. “Who is this man?”

The medic pulled out a metal chain from the Marine’s shirt. His dog tag. “He appears to be a Gunnery Sergeant… Miguel Juan Cortéz. A-positive blood type-.“ Price waved him off. 

~~~~~

When they arrived on base, the medics took the lead and had the Gunny offloaded and halfway to the med-tents before Gaz and Price could even stand up. They both made it to the tents when the Gunny was rushed into emergency surgery. They sat outside the operating room on the old wooden benches. They creaked when they sat down. 

Several hours passed before they heard steps rushing towards them. They looked up to see Kate Laswell speedily making her way towards them. She stopped just a foot or so in front of them. 

“I heard down the grapevine that you brought back Miguel Juan Cortéz?” She rushed taking in only a short breath. 

“Yes, why?” The Captain was still upset but had time to cool off somewhat. 

“Good! Good, actually that’s perfect!” Laswell sighed in relief. Their raised brows in confusion alerted her to their lack of info. “He’s important, well, very very important to the people on The Hill right now.”

“Politicians?” Gaz cringed. Laswell looked back and forth between them.

“Kyle, John… Gunnery Sergeant Cortéz is two Senatorial votes and a Presidential signature away from being a Medal of Honor recipient.” The intensity of  Laswell’s eyes showed that she wasn’t messing around nor was it a lie. Both men straightened in their seats.

The Medal of Honor… an award so prestigious that it was rarely given to anyone. A soldier had to go above and beyond the call of duty at risk of their own life. An act of Valor. 

Just who was this Gunny Cortéz?

🔖 Taglist:

[jesus-in-the-womb]

Ｇｉｌｄｅｄ Ｌｉｌｙ ~ 𝙿𝙻𝙰𝚈 JOEL MILLER

Summary: You and Joel have spent the last few months caring for Ellie as you escort her to the fireflies. Over the course of these months, the two of you have grown strong feelings for one another. Joel begins to grow fearful of failing Ellie, alongside you. This fear leads to him fighting with the two of you, ignoring his love for you and ignoring his parental instincts for Ellie. Will he force the two of you to continue on without him? Or will he man up and accept his feelings?

Warnings: Nothing too naughty in this chapter, just a few swear words and angsty comments. So really, just Angst and Fluff. :) "Emotionless" Joel NO USE OF Y/N

Word Count: 2,248

“I don’t think I understand what you’re trying to say, Joel,” you spoke, your brows furrowing as his body language became agitated.

“I’m saying that I can’t do this anymore,” he spits, the venom dripping from his tongue like a sickly sweet honey coating a serpent’s fangs.

“Okay, but can’t what? Walk up this hill?” Ellie was absolutely perplexed, her eyes flighting between the two adults who stood before her with knowing looks on their faces and standoffish stances.

“No, Ellie, I can’t walk anymore. I can’t smuggle you anymore,” he turned to you, his gaze growing cold, “and I can’t stand your fucking face anymore.”

To say you felt your heart crumble into a million pieces was an understatement. It felt as though Joel plunged his heavy fist into your chest, ripping out your heart and stomping it beneath his mud-coated boots. You’d known the man for a concise amount of time, only a handful of months. But, months felt like years in this world, each day a fucking blessing from whatever god there was. You felt like you’d known Joel for years, Ellie too. You grew an attachment to both of them, feelings obviously varying from each other. Ellie felt like a younger sister, due to your somewhat close age proximity, seeing her as a daughter was far from your mental capacity. Joel, however, had this immense hold over you. It didn’t matter that he was in his mid to late 50s and you were at your ripe age of 28. You couldn’t deny the absolute love you held for him. Yes, love. You hadn’t realized you loved him until just now, but the feeling was very prominent these last few weeks. The truth hidden within the emotion burying itself behind the metal bars of your imprisoned brain. So, for the man you’d realized you loved to just stomp your heart into the dusty field you stood in, it fucking hurt.

“W-What?” you questioned, tears brimming your eyes and threatening to boil over the layer of lashes that protected your glossy eyes. 

“I said I can’t,” he spoke your name with distaste, clearly trying his best to get you to hate him. It wasn’t working, but it sure was hurting you, “you’re both very capable of handling yourselves, you’ll be fine.”

He stated this as if he himself believed it. Sure, you and Ellie had enough basic survival instincts and fiery hearts to pass between the two of you, but it wasn’t enough to keep you alive. Not just yet, at least. 

“Joel, you’re not fucking funny.” Ellie visibly deflated, her hands dropping from the straps of her backpack, fists clenching in either fear or anger, you couldn’t tell.

“I’m not joking, Ellie.” 

You took a few steps back from the man in front of you. Not in fear, but in defeat. If he wanted to leave, he could. You were going to try to stop him, but you sure as hell weren’t gonna let him see how much his sudden promise of departure affected you. Joel watched as you stepped away, silently pleading for you to look him in the eye, and see how much this pained him too. But, you refused. Your eyes turned to Ellie, jutting your hand out for her to grab.

“Come on, Ells, we’re clearly not wanted.” your words were like daggers, piercing Joel’s heart and digging their way through his concrete walls. He was so close to taking it all back, so fucking close. He couldn’t decipher if his guilt was coming from the look on your face or Ellie’s, or both. Either way, you two girls were surely killing him where he stood.

“Haven’t I given enough?” Ellie’s words cut through the tension harshly, her voice quivering and bordering on a sob. 

You felt your chest contract, eyes squeezing shut at her shattered state. You felt heartbroken for the girl, itching to pull her small form into a bone-crushing hug. Wishing you could hush her tears and whisper nothing but promises and declarations of your never-ending presence at her side. But, you couldn’t. You couldn’t move. Your feet buried themselves in the grass beneath the soles of your boots, planting you in place. Joel mirrored your horror and heartbreak. His fists clenched and unclenched with nerves, his chest shaking on a very breathy inhale.

“Ellie-” Joel could barely speak, watching the two girls he felt nothing but love for, cry because of him.

“Always the fool with the slowest heart.” you made sure you punctuated your words, cutting him off and making your insult known. It was obvious to everyone that stumbled across the three of you that Joel would die for either of you girls. But, it was entirely too obvious how head over heels in love he was with you. So, after reaching Jackson and being confronted about his feelings for you by his little brother, he thought too much about losing you. Either of you. He’d decided the night before that he’d make you go on your own, make you carry the not-so-much of a burden of escorting Ellie to the fireflies. When the sun woke with a tired yawn, ready to start the day, he lead you and Ellie outside the safe walls of the settlement. He briefly mentioned teaching you and Ellie how to hunt, but after killing only a few squirrels, his anxiousness caused you to poke. After poking the bear, his thoughts were released tenfold without a thought as to how it would make all three of you feel and react.

“What the hell’s that s’posed to mean?” his words were harsh, his hip jutting out as he placed both of his hands on them. His entire aura exuded pissed off, his chest heaving from unspoken thoughts.

“It means that you’re an asshole, who can’t accept his own emotions.” Ellie spat for you, siding with you quickly, noticing how much this all affected you too.

“I am not an asshole.” 

“Yes, Joel, you are an asshole. We’ll go, but just know that you did this.” you weren’t mean with this delivery. Your words came out soft, nearly a whisper. Ellie moved to stand beside you, wrapping her hand around your own quickly. Her fingers desperately chased some form of comfort. You offered that comfort easily. You squeezed her hand lightly before hiding your conjoined fingers behind your back, knowing how hard it was for the girl to show any form of sentiment.

“I did this, yes. But, I’m doing it to protect you,” his words confused the both of you, but he continued before either of you could question him, “I don’t want to get either of you hurt, I’m not as strong or agile as I used to be.”

Quickly realizing why he was choosing to push the two of you away, your face mirrored the image of a kicked puppy, not entirely what Joel was wishing to see right now.

“Is this because of that one guy’s comment?” you questioned, remembering a very small encounter from the night prior vividly.

You’d only been in Jackson for a few hours, but you were quickly falling in love with the town and everyone in it. You spent your last few hours of freedom in the packed makeshift bar, ordering your second beer of the night from Tommy, Joel’s little brother. Speaking of Joel, he was nowhere to be found. You had hoped to find the man in the stuffy crowd, but you turned up empty after observing every single face from your seat at the bar. Although you couldn’t find your travel companion and recently discovered love of your life, you still found yourself enjoying the solitude.

That solitude, however, was short-lived. The feeling of a warm calloused hand on your bare shoulder startled you. Living in the apocalypse brought on the terrible lack of human interaction, let alone the physical touch of a body that wasn’t trying to tear you apart with teeth or steel. So, when this hand slid from your shoulder to the back of your elbow you froze. Without even caring to look, you pretended it was your favorite little cowboy, slightly leaning into the touch.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing all alone in a place like this?” The nasally voice broke you from your fantasy, pulling a frown onto your features before you hid it.

“Enjoying my beer,” you turned your head over your shoulder, eyes meeting a broad chest before shooting up to capture his gaze. He wasn’t bad looking, nor was he far from your age. But, he wasn’t Joel, “how about you handsome?”

You were never very good at flirting, so your sad attempt at capturing his attention was laughed off, his chest bouncing in joy. You began to flush, out of embarrassment. Not the kind of embarrassment that brings a smile to your face, but the kind that settles in the bottom of your belly. The kind that makes you second-guess yourself and confidence you just barely had a grasp on.

“I’m surprised you don’t have a man attached to those hips tonight, I know I’d be.” his words honestly grossed you out. Especially when his hand on your elbow fell to squeeze your hip.

Before you could speak out about how uncomfortable you were, the man you so desperately attempted to seek out tonight swept right in. Under the cold breeze of the early spring night, you felt his arm wrap around your shoulders, caging your grateful form in his warmth.

“She’s got a man.” although you knew it was just his way of helping you out of this entirely awkward situation, you couldn’t help but feel the butterflies erupt in your lower belly.

“My bad man, didn’t know your daughter was spoken for.” his words were venomous, surely affecting Joel as his fingers slowly dug into your shoulder and curled around the fabric of your tanktop strap. As the creep walked away, you heard his sharp jab at Joel’s age, choosing to ignore the ageist word and turn to check up on your savior.

“He’s an asshole, ignore him, Joel.” you placed a hand softly on one of his pecks. Your friendly advances were shot down quickly, his own free hand wrapping around yours and pulling it from his body to rest at your side. You followed his lead, letting out a soft huff of air as his fingers lingered around your own.

“Yea, asshole.” with that he walked away, leaving the bar nearly as soon as he entered. Not only did he leave behind his all-encompassing scent, but he also left behind your worried stare. 

“Joel,” you called out his name when he didn’t answer, dipping your head down to attempt to meet his lost gaze, “don’t seriously tell me that’s what this is all about.”

“Yes, it is,” he finally spoke up, forgoing his embarrassment, “I’m too old for this shit, we all know it. You’ve seen it.”

“Joel, you are the most able-bodied person I’ve ever met. If anyone can get us there, it’s you. It’ll always be you.” Your words rang true, for everyone in the small circle of three. 

It didn’t take long for Joel to feel the tears in his eyes, didn’t take much longer for him to viciously swipe at his cheeks in order to hide them. He was barely okay with expressing how he felt, he wasn’t about to openly cry in front of the two of you. Your confident words were running through his mind, eating away at his tired brain and filling him with nothing but admiration. Leave it to you to change his mind, change the way he allows himself to feel.

“What if something happens to one of you, and I can’t get there in time to save you because I’m too fucking slow?” he asks, his face stoic but eyes swirling with emotion.

“Then we’ll handle it ourselves, Joel. Plus, I’m literally not gonna leave either of your sides, its fucking cold out here.” Ellie spoke, pulling a chuckle from the older man and a quiet giggle from you. Although he came after both of you when trying to escape his feelings, you began to feel the undying need to leave the two of them alone. No matter the bond you had with Ellie or Joel separately, it wasn’t anything like the bond the two of them were building. You knew Ellie had things she wanted to say, to Joel and Joel only. So, with a heavy but not disappointed heart, you finally dropped the girl’s hand. Stepping away from the two was easy, convincing the two of them that they’d be fine on their own was the difficult part.

“I’ll be over there, call out when you’re ready to go.” With a smile, you confidently mentioned the decision you knew Joel had finally made. He’d stay with you guys, it was practically smeared across his forehead in bright red ink, tattooing his skin and filling you with relief. Joel nodded, turning his back to you begrudgingly and offering a broken smile to the young girl before him. Ellie didn’t wait for you to get far enough before she started yelling at him like an upset teenage daughter would typically do, your ears catching the beginning of a rant that brought a smile to your face.

“You can’t leave us.”

Before she could finish her sentence, Joel quickly cut her off.

“I don’t plan to.”

[someonestole15]

Walking away

If only it was that simple.

Run away from everything and simply go on with your life without dealing with the skeletons in your closet. A pleasant dream that quickly faded from my mind as another flak shell exploded near the gunship, the shock pushed the ship off course as I caught my breath and took hold of the controls in front of me.

Red lights across the board, the armor was holding against the shrapnel but a direct impact or one close enough to the fuselage would tear through us. Adrenaline running though my system, I pushed the throttle forward under the risk of overheating the engines.

Lucky or just predictable patterns in the sky, hard to say as I repeat the maneuvers in my head time after time while keeping an eye on the radar for any interceptors coming in. Hyperdrive disabled by the larger ship and the systems onboard, turning around and causing havoc did cross my mind but

“ETA 66 seconds till we’re out. Hull is holding and the engines are hot but steady. Navigation calculations almost complete.”

“Got it, start the drive as soon as we’re clear.”

“Checklist is good, we’re all set. Another barrage incoming.”

“Evading.”

Different pattern, the predictive algorithm managed to keep most of the shells away, shattering the dark abyss with bright red and yellow flames of high explosives as I pushed the stick to the side and guided us underneath it. Engines and repaired armor panels across the hull screaming under the forces, we finally reached the edge of the exclusion zone.

“Jammer zone clear, starting the drive.”

“Radar contact, two bandits at eleven. Heading directly for us.”

“We’re not exactly stealth in this thing, they have radar lock.”

From a steady tone to a series of beeps, a bright light appeared from the direction of the contacts as a missile warning flashed across my HUD. Quick on the draw, Valkyrie armed the ECM and the side GAU-19’s on the side mounts.

“Running point defense.”

Awaken the sleeping monster; large as it might be, the gunship has that name for a reason. Hardpoints always deployed, the symphony of gunfire from the two side guns lit up the sky with tracers as I focused the front gun on the radar contacts.

“Splash one missile, encaging.”

“Aim for center mass, I’ll try to keep them in your arcs.”

“Roger.”

The fighters might be capable but they are more effective in hit and run operations, the gunship excels in what the military likes to call area lockdown. Both side guns can operate freely and the swiveling engines allow it to move in one place far more actively than a fighter could.

Tear across the fuselage with .50 caliber rounds at 2000 rounds per minute, the first fighter burst into flames and painted a trail of scrap across the sky, the second fighter pulled away for a moment before giving chase. Now in atmosphere, I could not pull of any maneuver like this due to the air resistance and drag, but here, there is none of that to worry about.

“He is on our tail, missile lock.”

“Stand by.”

Pull the stick back and send the engines on a 180, not something they put in the manual for flying one of these. Full speed, in reverse with all the guns facing the enemy. Your move.

The fighter pulled off several evasive maneuvers to dodge the machineguns but the cannon only needed one impact to rid him of his wings. The delay caused the round to detonate underneath the missiles stored within the hull. Splash two; I turned the ship around as the fireball faded down behind us.

“No contacts, we’re clear.”

“Booting FSD, let’s get out of here.”

“Good flying, Nav computer has the destination, turn the key.”

A dark cloud as sparks of lightning appeared on the hull of the ship, the loud whirring from the back of the ship got to an unbearable whine as the ship was pulled into the space between systems.

Heavy load of adrenaline finally fading from my system, I leaned back against my seat and disconnected from the ships systems to allow my systems to catch up to the flow of data.

The question might be, where exactly are we going?

The system is mainly a pass through point for shipping between the larger Empire and Federation systems, a well-known point for legitimate business as Mira and Kira spoke about it often.

Taika, also called HAT-P-40 in reports, Nikolas ensured that the local safe house would be usable for us if we needed it. Six planets, two of which can support life although the attempts on record say the wildlife has made it difficult.

Plenty of unsearched forests and terrain to hide in, the plan was to remain there for now to let things cool down, if possible.

Then again, no rest for the wicked.

Guess this would be my return, those 15 pages were mostly trying to move this along by months but hell... I cannot do that to myself.

Happy Holidays, be seeing you again

Fifteenth_

[aajjks]

outfit: https://pin.it/7KZda5ZKk

hair: https://pin.it/Xzyjw1x6d

mommy issues!JK

to:

mr. jeon:

4 sounds great!

figure skates? a surprise? what are you up to, mr. jeon? 😏

you reply and once you hit send, you rush to your bedroom to pick an outfit for your date. should you do a skirt? a track suit? pants and top? should you slick your hair down? put clips in it? should you put makeup on? or just go bare-face?

its been so long since you’ve been on the date and you want to make sure you look appropriate for both jungkook and seol. you search high and low for cute outfits but none of them impress you.

*ding*

from:

mr. jeon:

you’ll see 😉

you pick up your phone and read the text jungkook sent back to you and roll your eyes but not in an annoyed way. you continue scouring through your closet and dressers for both an outfit and the box that holds your old ice skates. after 20 minutes, you finally decide on cute denim outfit you had sitting in the back of your closet with a white pair of sneakers but you still couldn’t locate your ice skates.

now that you think about it, you might’ve thrown your skates away with your competition outfits on that fateful day. you looked around every nook and cranny for those ice skates but you still couldn’t find them and ice skates aren’t the cheapest pairs of shoes.

after checking your bedroom closet, you had a hunch that they might be in your living room closet. the moment you opened the closet door, there were your skates still sitting in that old blue and pink box you remember. however, you’re hesitant to pick up and open the box. you can feel it all coming back to you, the amount of times you’ve cried, the first of many burns, you remember it all.

“‘s alright, y/n. it’s over now” you whisper and slowly, you open the box revealing your skates and all kinds of pictures. pictures of your doing tricks in your old costumes, with your friends, and many many more. you take hold of the left boot and attempt to slide it on your foot which surprisingly fit just fine.

“hopefully i still got it” you say as you grab the other boot and set them next to your outfit and get yourself ready for your date in the next few hours.

you bathe, brush and rinse your mouth, put very little make up on and styled your hair with cute clips for seol. by the time you finish it’s 3:48 PM ‘just a little longer’ you think to yourself, so to pass the time you eat a small snack on your couch until jungkook knocks on your door.

by 3:50, you hear two knocks at your door and an excited voice calling for you.

“mommy! mommy! open the door!!” says an excited seol and the moment you open the door, he rushes in to give you a big hug.

“aww, hi seol~ did you miss me?”

“mhm. daddy said we’re going to spend the whole day together!” he jumps.

“we are going to spend the day together” you agree and once you finish speaking to seol, you make sure to greet jungkook with a hug too.

“hi, jungkook. so..what exciting plans do you have for me and seol?”

~🫧

He’s a little shocked to see you guys matching, he loves denim, and Seol is also wearing a denim kind of hoodie suit, he’s so happy because this is a sign from God that you are meant to be as a family together.

And can he just say how pretty you look today? You’re always so pretty and he’s so in love. You should be a stylist because of the way you choose your clothing.

So pretty.

“we are matching!” Seol gushes as he wraps his arms around your legs, Jungkook scratches the back of his head as he tries to think of appropriate words, he can use to complement you without creeping you out. “wow you look…. Like a model.” he says awkwardly, but he’s being genuine right now.

“Uh… I think you’re going to like today’s plan.” He smirks, “even though it’s not really that eventful or special but I thought maybe you could teach me some figure skating, and we could figure skating and we could go to an arcade, then play some games and then finally we could have dinner together! I made reservations just in case!”

Since I told him last night about figure skating, he is so intrigued because it’s sounds a little difficult, and he searched up videos on YouTube- it’s honestly really attractive.

He would love to see some pictures from your past, but maybe you’ll show them to him one day and also you must be really flexible. “I would love it if you could teach me a little bit of figure skating.” He says, he does not know shit about it, but he’s an eager learner specially when you’re the teacher.

“you could say I’m your student today. And you’re my teacher instead.”

He winks, giggling. He can get the figure skaters out at the rink, because of course they must offer them. And they’re gonna be having y’all change these outfits or will they have them let you keep wearing them? He has no idea but he’s excited.

Just like that you are in the elevator waiting for the ground floor to come so you can go to the parking where his car is, “ahhh there is my car.”

Jungkook exclaims before using his key to turn the car on, and he opens the front door for you, like your chauffeur, “come on ma’am.” He jokes and you get in, after making sure that his son is settled on the backseat, Jungkook is off to the rink, driving away.

And don’t think that he didn’t ask you guys if you were hungry, but you both said that maybe you’ll eat later after you’re done with your adventure at the skating rink today.

As he is driving, you’re busy conversing with the four year at the back, “mommy is so pretty!” Seol coos, making jungkook smile as he watches you melt a little.

“I know! She’s gorgeous!” Jungkook says to the toddler munching on biscuits in the back.

You are definitely blushing, because he keeps on looking at you from the front mirror, stealing glances at your face, Small noises of music is playing, and the heater in the car is on because it’s cold.

“I know you’re going to do amazing yn!” He smiles brightly, and after a few minutes of driving, you are at the destination.

And the three of you get into the rink as he talks to the instructor there, you are with him, so he’s not scared you will take care of him, right?

Jungkook tells the staff there that he doesn’t have any skaters, so they gladly provide him with a pair. As you’re putting yours on, he’s so excited.

Seol will be watching from the boundary, a woman is watching him like he made sure to ask her, and he’s so excited too.

“Come on yn!” Jungkook says as he barely manages to come towards you, with his figure skaters on, and he almost falls flat on his face, but you catch his hands.

His heart flutters. “You got me? Yeah?” He asks you. Looking at your intertwined hands.

“Tell me do I get a reward if I do good?”

jungkook & Seol’s outfits :)

[jade-owaowa]

2:56/2

2:56/2

By Jade Arnett

10 PM

Thank God for the notes app on my phone, I'm about to make extensive use of it tonight. This will be a chronicle of everything that happens tonight. The reason I want to document everything is that I no longer feel safe in my own home. Last night….. I had a run-in with something awful. I can’t go back to my house. My wrists are bloodied and bruised and my lungs feel like they’ve been filled with blood. I am currently on the bus to get to my best friend, Wynn. I will update this once I get the chance.

11 PM

I have been at Wynn’s for around an hour. She changed the bandages on my arm and got me some cough medicine. I don’t want to tell her what I saw, she’ll think I’m crazy or something.

12 AM

She’s pressuring me to tell her what happened.

12:30 AM

I finally am giving in and telling her over Waffle House. I just hope she believes me

12:40 AM

I’m riding shotgun in Wynn’s car. As I write this, my darkness is on low, and I'm holding my phone at an angle. I looked in the rearview mirror and I felt…..his…. Presence.

12:50 AM

We’re here, we were greeted by a waitress who seemed rather friendly, she kind of looked like my mom a bit.

1:00 AM

“Creeeeeeeekkkkkk” my imitation of that old monster we called a house was spot-on.

“The floorboards were horrifically noisy and woke me up every night at 2:56 a.m. I would hear the heavy thud of boots stomping down on the old wooden floor.”

“Did you ever see anyone?”

“Stop rushing my story, Jesus.” 

I took a sip of my black coffee. Me and Wynn were enjoying our meal at Waffle House. was 1 a.m. now, and we were just sitting and talking.

“My body would immediately sit up. Once I was jolted awake I would smell the same putrid smell of gasoline and rotting meat. The footsteps usually went away….”

I paused for a second, trying to collect my thoughts.

“But this time….. this time was different.”

Knock………Knock……..Knock

“I flinched at the three heavy-handed knocks, each one louder than the last. At this point, the smell had gotten so bad I had to cover my nose with my bed sheets.”

“Wait, do you mean those dino ones?”

“Wynn shut the fuck up.”

Wynn laughed a little at the idea that I still had dinosaur bed sheets at the age of 18.

“Yes, and I am proud of it, so stop laughing,” I said in a semi-annoyed tone.

“Anyways, let me go for five fucking minutes without interrupting me, it's already 1:30 am now.”

“Fine fine fine, continue your bullshit ghost story.”

“Thank you. The room was pitch black other than my door. I aimed my neon blue alarm clock straight at that damn door. Nothing was getting in or out without my knowledge. If I said that I wasn’t scared of the dark, I’d be lying right through my goddamn teeth. Even with the clock, it felt that there was less light than normal. It seemed as if the darkness was fighting the light and prevailing. Then I saw it. The doorknob began to shake and shake and shake until it seemed like it was going to fly off of the door.”

I paused and took another gulp of my coffee. It had turned lukewarm over time.

1:45 AM

“Do you think it was your grandfather just going to piss or some shit?”

“Hell no, I could hear that motherfucker snoring like his life depended on it.”

Wynn started snorting like a pig.

2:00 AM

“Hey, it’s already 2 am.”

“I'll try to wrap up soon. The door was locked, so whoever - or whatever - couldn’t get in. Then I heard it speak.

‘Da………..bria’

“I knew who it was immediately, I believe that the thing coming to visit me……”

“Yes?”

“Was my father.”

“Holy fucking shit.”

The problem with my father coming to visit me every night is quite simple. He’s been dead for nine years. He died in the very house that I was staying at.

“I know, but it wasn’t him….. it was something……. malicious. Its hoarse voice didn’t sound human. It felt like a cheap imitation.”

“What, do you think it was a spooooookyyy ghooooost or something?”

I was right, she didn’t believe me.

“I'm not sure, But what I do know is that it wants me dead. Immediately after it called out my name, I became light-headed and felt like I was going to pass out. I began coughing up blood and old scars on my wrists began to open up. Blood was soon flowing from me like water. I fell on the floor and heard the thing scream louder and louder.”

“OPEN OPEN UP UP OPEN NOW OPEN OPEN OPEN.”

This thing was definitely not human

“Who the fuck are you?” I yelled at the thing, expecting an answer for God knows what reason.

“COME YOUR TIME TIME YOUR COME YOUR TIME COME.”

The broken English in the imitated tone of my dad sent shivers down my spine.

“I crawled my way to that door and pressed my body against it so that it didn’t get in.”

I glanced at the clock, now reading 2:45.

2:45 AM

“I stayed holding that door until the morning. When I finally opened the door, there were bloody footprints leading from my dad’s old room in the basement to my room. I haven’t been back at the house since.

“ When was this?”

“Last night.”

“Jesus Christ Dabria, you didn’t get high did you?”

“ No, I was completely sober.”

“So you called me because you didn’t want to sleep there again?”

“Yeah, I don’t feel comfortable at all there anymore. My dad didn’t visit me last night, and I don't care to figure out who did.”

“Well. let me use the bathroom then we can leave here and go to my place.”

“Okay.”

I sat and gulped the last bit of my coffee. There was something strange; it was oddly empty, even for almost 3 a.m. at a Waffle House. The waitress was no longer in the restaurant so I assumed she left for the evening. I ignored it though, and finished writing this in my notes as I wanted to document this conversation. I will keep updating it.

2:56 AM

Tap tap tap

I froze. I saw it. The time on the clock read 2:56 a.m. That Thing was not my father. It gave me a smile and a wave. This is goodbye, I think.

3:00 AM

I am hiding in the bathroom, Wynn is dead and I have a knife in my hand.

3:15 AM

He’s coming he’s coming he’s coming

3:30 AM 

I can’t keep doing this, maybe I should just go out and accept my fate.

Day 2

I'm starting to go insane.

Day 3

I'm so thirsty.

Day ??

I don't know what day it is, I'm so hungry I have begun to eat Wynn.

Day ???

I think this is it, my strength is gone, I am out of food and the tap in the sink doesn’t work anymore. I’m going to let him in, I love my father I love him I love him I love him I love him I lo-

Battery depleted

“What the fuck… chief, come here a minute.”

“What’s up lieutenant…. Oh my god…”

“There's…. so much blood.”

“Dispatch…. this is unit 212…. send a coroner and an EMT asap to 1440 Arroyo Lane.”

“Copy.”

“Oh my God oh my God I’m going to throw up.”

“Jesus, murder-suicides are always the worst.”

“What do you think the motive was?”

“Who knows.”

“ Three people dead, damn you think people would have found them by now.”

“Unit 212 this is dispatch, what are the descriptions of the bodies.”

“One female with heavy lacerations on her wrists, a fatal stab wound in her stomach, and dried blood on the corners of her mouth. She has black hair, blue eyes, and a slender build. The next one appears to be a middle-aged waitress with lacerations to her neck. She has blonde hair, blue eyes, and a medium to stocky build. Last is another female. She has Black hair as well, with brown eyes and a medium build.”

“Copy.”

[primis-marshmallow]

Two German Scientists

Chapter 2

Dr Brandt had been pleasantly surprised at a job offer to work for the secret government organisation Omega. However, things take a turn when her boss decides she’s more of a nuisance than a valuable member of the group. How will Dr Brandt survive when thrust into a new world, one where the actions of four men will dictate the survival of the universe?

At 3:50 I hear a knock at my door, engrossed in the material I was reading I forgot to check the time. “One minute!” I yell, quickly putting on my lab coat and lacing up my boots. I flatten down my hair before opening the door.

“Don’t worry, you’re not late. I just thought you might want to walk down to the meeting with me?” I turn back, picking up my notepad and pen before going back to the doorway.

“Yeah, sounds good, Dimitri, I lost track of time there. I was trying to read up on the data packet Peck left me.” We both walk out, down the hallway and towards the conference room.

“It’s a good job you read it, I wouldn’t put it past Peck to try and quiz you in this meeting. Do you know a lot about dimensional rifts?” I look at him, confused and slightly worried. Of course I’d now read the information, I know what they’ve been trying to achieve as of recent, but that can’t be why I’m here…right?

“Uh no…actually I know very little…not really my forte. I’m more of a biological scientist to be honest.”

“Yikes, well you’re going to enjoy this meeting.” He replies sarcastically. “I’m sure you’ll be fine. If you’re not here to help with stabilising the dimensional breaches then I’m sure there’s a lot of other things for you to be working on.”

“I hope so…” I mumble back.

We finally reach the conference room, Dimitri holds the door for me to walk in. “Ah Kuhlklay, Brandt, you’re not late, I’m surprised.” Peck announces from the end of the room, sitting at the head of the table.

“How could I possibly be late to my first meeting at this facility, Dr Peck?” Confidence, confidence is key. I can’t let him walk all over me.

“Is that sarcasm I hear, Brandt?” He grunts out, albeit slightly amused.

Sitting down in the seat next to him I reply. “Not at all, Doctor.”

Kuhlklay sits down in the seat opposite me, giving me a look of approval before speaking. “So, what is this meeting for, Peck?”

“Well Dimitri, I thought it would be a good idea to fill in our new addition on our work. I assume you’ve read the data packet Alvarie, you’ve had all day to do so.” He turns to look at me, I nod shyly. “Good. I know Kravchenko doesn’t want you here to assist with the breaches but until we achieve one, you’ll have to help out. We’re not just gonna pay you to sit around looking pretty, pretending to have a clue of what’s going on.” God he’s such an asshole. “Anyway, tomorrow we’re gonna be continuing our tests for the dimensional portal, and we’re going to achieve one. Alvarie, I want you to manage some of the controls, if you’ve read the data you should know what they all are and how they work. Even with your limited knowledge, I think you should be able to follow instructions. It’s what children are good at anyway.” I narrow my eyes at him slightly, he’s a horrible man but he’s not exactly wrong, I don’t know much about physics.

“Of course sir, I can assure you that I will follow orders to the best of my abilities.” He chuckles at this.

“I’m starting to like her, maybe you could learn a bit about respect from her, Kuhlklay.” The meeting continues, Peck explaining how the tests will run tomorrow before eventually dismissing us.

Dr Kuhlklay and I leave the room before giving each other a knowing stare. We don’t say a word until we get to the kitchen. Walking over to the cabinets, he pulls out some dry pasta before looking at me. “So he was an asshole, but he wasn’t as much of an asshole as I thought he would be.” I walk over, grabbing a pan and filling it with water before putting it on the hob.

“Yeah, I don’t appreciate him calling me a child but I suppose it could be worse.” Dimitri adds the pasta to the water before sitting down in one of the metal chairs.

“He just likes making people think they’re worthless to boost his own ego. One day he’s going to pay for his attitude, I won’t mind the blood on my hands when that smug look is wiped off his face.” I chuckle slightly, his eyes going dark as he slips into his mother tongue.

“I’m glad I took the time to learn Russian.” I sit down across from him, leaning my elbows on the table.

“How long did it take you?” I look off in thought.

“About six months.”

“That’s impressive, took me a few years to learn English.” I shrug.

“It’s a bit easier when it's your fourth language. I was raised speaking English and German, then I did a year of my PhD in Tokyo and picked up Japanese.”

“You’re full of surprises.” I grin at him.

“What can I say, I am a woman of many talents.” We continued talking before finally eating our food. After both calling it an early night, I head to bed to be prepared for my busy day tomorrow.

15 hours. 15 goddamn hours we have been doing these stupid tests- and not a single one has worked! Every time we get close, we approach the limits, we have an unexpected power surge, we lose membrane integrity. All day I’ve been following orders like a good little dog, pushing buttons, pulling levers, reading out numbers. I’m so tired of this shit. Dimitri and I are so frustrated at this point, we just want to give up.

“Are we sure we need to keep going today? Clearly we need to change something…it’s clearly not working.” I gesture over to the countless logs, how can he not see that this is pointless.

“I’m sorry, when did you become in charge of this project, Brandt? Did you suddenly gain a PhD in theoretical physics and nearly 30 years of experience? Oh-wait sorry, you haven’t even been alive that long.” I roll my eyes at him as he walks over to his cassette recorder, pressing a button.

“This is Dr. William Peck. It is the 8th of January, 1984, 1:13 a.m. this is test number 32 for dimensional breach-”

“Must you start with that every recording?” Kuhlklay groans.

“Do not interrupt, Dimitri. This is your chance to learn something from a real scientist. Now, as I was saying. Test number 32. ‘Dr’ Brandt, you may proceed.” I walk over to the panel.

“Activating resonator…beginning magnetic amplification.” Dimitri looks over at my monitors. “Dimensional Barrier identified. Beginning particle distortion.” He pulls down a lever, keeping his eyes on the monitors.

“Barrier membrane integrity at fifty percent.” Peck announces. Kuhlklay whips his head back to look at Peck.

“Amplification is still approaching the limits prematurely!” Peck still stays calm.

“Increasing voltage output from Aetherium Crystal.” We look out to the test chamber, the anomaly expanding and contracting rapidly.

“It’s working! Membrane integrity at forty percent!” My eyes go wide, unable to speak. I frantically tap at the glass displaying amplification. “Amplification has reached safety parameters!” Kuhlklay screeches. Peck chuckles.

“Let it ride, Dimitri. let it ride! Increasing voltage output.”

“Amplification exceeding safety parameters! I’m shutting it down!” He reaches out towards the termination button but Peck smacks his hand out of the way, pointing his finger towards Kuhlklay’s throat.

“You touch that button, I’ll have you gutted like a fish and fed to your comrades in Solyanka soup!” My eyes dart back to the monitors.

“Doctor! Membrane integrity down to ten percent!”

“You mудак! You’ll get us all killed!” Peck rushes back over to the controls.

“Wait! Adjusting distortion frequency to pattern echo-four!” As he does this, the anomaly stabilises…a- a portal.

“Mein Gott…” I mutter, eyes fixated on the purple glowing anomaly.

“Eat your heart out, Dr. Vogel! We’ll see who history remembers.”

[huenjin]

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."

[shinobusupremecy]

Shinobu x f!reader

A/N: God I'm so pissed, I accidently uploaded it too early, forgot to screenshot the request and just ughh I'm so fricking mad! Thank you anon for the request and sorry for my mistake!

Basically the request was about the trio and you going to mountain natagumo in season 1. Instead of Shinobu saving Zenitsu she saved you instead (you two are gfs) so Shinobu teased you about you turning into a spider.

“Can you all just hold up for a second!?” You all paused to look at Zenitsu with questioning looks. “I’m scared! Now that we’re finally here on our destination I’m quaking in my boots!” Zenitsu continued to shake and cry while Inouske looked down on him. 

You, Tanjiro, Zenitsu and Inosuke had finally reached Natagumo mountain. The vibes you got from it was overflowing with death and bad vibes. You shivered a bit while Inosuke seemed way too eager to go to the mountains.

“Why the hell is his ass on the ground? Hella creepy” Zenitsu became quick to defend himself.

“Who are you to talk, Pig Face!? Don’t tell me you’re not getting weird vibes from that mountain!” You sighed. 

“Guys, I really think we need to get going. Who knows what lives could be lost while we’re out here talking?” You spoke up with a worried look etched on your face. 

“I must say I agree with Y/N. What good will it do if you just sit down on the ground Zenitsu?” Tanjiro said while closing his eyes and slightly shaking his head.

“Told you he’s creepy” You lightly slapped Inosukes head giving him a disapproving look. “What? He is creepy” You glared at him and Inosuke turned his head away from you all while huffing. 

“I AM ANYTHING BUT CREEPY! I’M THE NORMAL ONE! YOU GUYS ARE THE ABNORMAL ONES!” You began to tap your foot impatiently.

Tanjiro soon began to stiffen up before running away. Inosuke and you following in suit. Zenitsu whined to wait for him. 

You all saw a demon slayer laying on the ground crying while blood ran down his face.

“H-help me!” Before you guys could do anything his back rose up and he flew backwards straight into the forest. He screamed as he disappeared and you felt a shiver run down your spine. 

Tanjiro and Inosuke didn’t say much and went into the mountains leaving you and Zenitsu behind. 

“T-they left us” Zenitsu stuttered out.

“Well, their reasons are justified. The people in there need us, they can’t wait for us any longer. Come on Zenitsu, let’s get going” Zenitsu shook his head still quivering. You let out a hum thinking deeply on how to approach the situation before your face lit up. 

You crouched down to Zenitsu patting his back. 

“You knooww~ Tanjiro has Nezuko. If you wanna reach her then you should get going” Zenitsu looked at you surprised before grabbing your wrist and he started to run. 

“WHY WOULD HE BRING NEZUKO-CHAN IN THIS DANGEROUS FOREST! IDIOT IDIOT IDIOT!” He screeched. You tried your best to keep up with his speed. 

-

You panted and coughed. 

“You sure run a lot when it comes to Nezuko” You wheezed out. 

“W-where are you Tanjiro and Inosuke!? Don’t leave me and Y/N-chan all by ourselves!” Zenitsu shouted. 

Sounds of tree ruffling reached your ears and Zenitsu began to scream. You ran to him and covered his mouth with your hand. 

“Zenitsu please! It’s just some crows flying away. If you scream so much we will attract attention and will not be able to move smoothly to the others!” Zenitsu nodded and you smiled at him, trying to comfort him by patting him on the back. 

You and Zenitsu continued to walk down a random path, you trying your best to be on the lookout for the others while comforting a scared Zenitsu. Soon enough you two reached a clearing and the sight you saw shocked you both.

A house was floating above. Wait. No, threads were holding it up. People were hanging down and some were in worse condition than others. Some looked bald and had bruises all over with short limbs. Least to say you were disgusted with the sight. But the smell was enough to kill all fragile flies in a 50 meter radius.

Zenitsu plucked his noce already looking a bit dizzy and you couldn’t blame him. The smell really was enough to make you vomit on the spot. 

You suddenly heard creaks coming from the house and there you saw a giant spider with a human head. Your eyes widened and Zenitsu finally yelled. 

“AHHH WHAT IS THAT!?” The spider began to cackle before he got to utter a word Zenitsu cut him off. “Y’know what!? I refuse to talk with someone like you!” Zenitsu yelled and began to run away, once again grabbing your hand. 

“There’s no reason to run away! You’re already loosing” The spider said as he looked at you. 

“The hell are you blabbering about!? I don’t wanna talk to you, capiche!?” Zenitsu yelled as he continued to run.

“It seems like you don’t know what’s happening right now. You see, you there my friend is in a very dire situation!” He pointed one of his hairy legs at you. You stopped running, making Zenitsu almost fall on you. You looked at your hands and saw it was purple, veins popping out everywhere and a big gross circle blister. 

“It’s venom! A spider must’ve bitten you. The venom will make you turn into a spider. Give it thrity minutes and you’ll turn into my spider slave, crawling around doing whatever I say!” The big spider began to cackle loudly. You began to shake, fear and anger the only emotions you’re expressing. 

The spider brought out a clock showing when you will begin to feel immense pain and when your limbs will begin to shrink. You had enough of hearing this bringing out your swords.

“Hmmm? You still wanna fight?” The spider laughed at you. You narrowed your eyes at him, your brows furrowing together. 

Zenitsu tried to once again grab your hand and run away but you slapped his hand away.

“Go find the others! I’ll be fine!” Zenitsu shook his head. A spiderderling suddenly came from behind and tried to bite Zenitsu. You kicked the spider away. 

“I said go! I’m not gonna let you become a spider like me now go!” You yelled. Zenitsu hugged you before running away. 

Dozens of spiderlings began to attack you and you started to run away, quickly climbing up a tree and jumping from branch to branch. You moved your hand through your hair as an attempt to calm yourself. You suddenly felt your hair fall off with ease, hair strands on your hand. 

The spider began to laugh more and more.  

You jumped straight to him, he spit some sort of purple liquid at you which you dodged mid-air. He hissed in slight frustration.

“Hey! What are you waiting for? Attack her!” The spiderlings jumped after you and you avoided them, all with fair ease, some you kicked away. Knowing they were technically human you cannot slice them. 

The big spider once again tried to hit you with that purple liquid which you jumped away from. 

‘Alright, focus’ You closed your eyes, taking your stance. The spider spit his purple liquid at you again. Your hands began to shake uncontrollably. 

‘I have to finish this quickly’ The spiderlings attempted to pounce on you once again but you quickly jumped and rolled away from them. You tried to prepare your breathing technique but was interrupted with you coughing out blood. All the spiders took their chance and jumped on you, covering your body entirely. 

‘Finally’ You thought and sended all the spiders flying away from you. You quickly moved from tree to tree finally meeting face to face with the big spider. His horrified shocked face will forever be one to remember. Your blade satisfyingly separated his head from his body and you fell on the house with a large thud. 

Your adrenaline faded away and the pain began to increase and increase. You felt hot wet sensation run down your nose.

‘Ah, nosebleed’ You sighed out and quickly came to regret it with the shock of pain you got from that one move alone. 

You heard cawing and looked to your right to see your crow with tears in her eyes. 

“Hi...please call...for help” Your crow let her tears fall before flying away. 

You began thinking of your life. Your childhood, when you became a demon slayer and Shinobu.

You closed your eyes, in your head you saw you and Shinobu's moments together like a movie. You smiled with tears in your eyes. You opened your eyes to see the moon when you saw something flutter in the corner of your eyes. It looked like a butterfly. 

‘Ah, Shinobu, you came. This is so embarrassing. I’ll never hear the end of this” You thought bitterly. 

Shinobu tapped down from the sky beside you and her mouth formed an “o” before smiling.

“Moshi moshi~ Good evening Y/N! You must’ve really gotten into trouble this time” Your eyes snapped to her, you wanted to say something but couldn’t, Shinobu watched with pity as you tried to speak. 

“I...saw...you and...me” You finally manage to croak out. Shinobu looked down at you, processing your words before it clicked in her head. 

“Wow, it seems like you were near death! Since you saw life flash before your eyes it means that you’re trying to avoid death by looking through your memories! I myself have never experienced that before so don’t take my word for it” You smiled at her words, her voice doing a great job to soothe you despite the current state you’re in. 

Shinobu then placed her finger on your head. 

“Great! You did a great job on slowing down the poison with your breathing. Of course you did great, I was the one who taught you that!” Shinobu looked at your limbs seeing them still shrinking. “My my, it seems like you’re gonna turn into a spiderling soon! Such a shame, my girlfriend turning into a disgusting looking spiderling or maybe you’ll manage to hold your beauty in tact even as a spiderling. That would be something for me to remember! Now, do you wanna try that?” 

“N-no” 

“What? I can’t hear you” You frowned at her words knowing full well she heard you.

“My my Y/n we have spoken about this. You really do need to speak up. If you waste so much time you’ll turn into a spiderling!” 

Even at your weak state you managed to muster up a glare at Shinobu.

“Alright, I’m sorry. I’ll turn you back now, I’ll be shunned by the other hashiras if they find out you turned into a spiderling because of me” Shinobu let out a light chuckle before taking your short arm, easily puncturing a needle through your skin and reaching a vein. You smiled at Shinobu before closing your eyes letting sleep engulf you whole.  

-

Your eyes slowly fluttered open, you began to instantly feel unwelcoming pain and you groaned. 

“Ah, finally you’re awake! I’ve been waiting to kiss your face for hours now!” Shinobu quickly placed kisses all over your face before kissing your lips.

“Thanks Shinobu. I was welcomed with immense pain but seeing you makes me feel much better” Shinobu cupped your cheek. 

“Aww, corny as usual” You scoffed, very offended by Shinobu's comment as you were about to hit her lightly on her arm you soon realized that your short baby arms didn’t even come near Shinobu.

“Hmmm? Can’t hit me now can you?” Shinobu quickly teased.

“Just you wait!” You said as you gritted your teeth.

“Your revenge plan has to wait for now. Until then, I’ll brace myself for your wrath” Shinobu giggled and poked your nose.

“Now drink this medicine” Shinobu helped you get up before letting you drink the whole medicine. 

Your eyes widened when you were hit with a shocking disgusting taste that came with the medicine. You were about to spit it out but Shinbou quickly covered your mouth with her hand, lifting your head up forcing you to swallow it. 

“Ew! What the hell did you feed me!? I thought you teasing me long enough for me to almost turn into a spiderling was enough, now you had to poison me too!?” You yelled, raising your baby arms in frustration. The sight of you raising your baby arms with a pout on your face was so adorable to Shinobu! She swore she was gonna remember this moment forever. 

“I’m sorry darling but it’s the only medicine that will make your limbs grow to normal. You’ll have to hold on for a little longer” Shinobu kissed your lips which you happily returned. 

“Love you, now I gotta go and treat the other patients” You nodded.

Shinobu was about to leave your room before she paused. 

“Oh and you have to drink that medicine three times a day” 

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME!?”

[jaedreaminn]

Cupcakes

Summary

You were just on your way to deliver cupcakes to the Royal Family, you didn't plan on getting engaged to their youngest son.

Not like you were complaining though.

Parings: Jaemin x fem!reader

Theme: Royalty Au, fluff, humour, angst (but if you blink you miss it)

Characters: Jaemin, Jeno, Mark, Chenle, Jisung, Haechan, Yuta, Taeyong, OC «mentioned» Hendery.

Word Count: 4.5k

You happily skipped down the muddy road as you made your way to the palace.

It’s been a while since you’ve gone to there, considering how you frequented there as a child.

Now however, you were on your way to deliver a last minute batch of cupcakes the palace had ordered for- well some event that was none of your business.

Normally, palaces had their own chefs who were very skilled so it wasn’t a common occurrence that the small bakery in the lower part of town got a palace order. But the Royal Family had come to love the cupcakes your brother made after trying it once and well the rest was history.

“I’m here to deliver 50 cupcakes for the Royal Family” You grinned and the guard eyed your worn out frock and scuffled sandals with a frown.

“The Royal Highnesses have their own pastry chef” He sneered and you frowned, hand reaching to your satchel to pull out the scroll with the Royal seal on it.

“Look, I’m not lying” you said showing the guard the scroll with the order but instead of apologising and letting you in he snatched the scroll and growled at you, “It’s illegal to impersonate the Royal Seal you know”

“But I-“

“Move along little girl I don’t have time for your foolishness” he said shoving the scroll back into your arms and shoving you away. Tears threatened to prickle the sides of your eyes but you didn’t let them fall but instead held your head up high like your brother had taught you too and stepped forward.

“I do not want to fail this simple task the Royal family gave me because of some imbecile guard, you either let me in or find someone who will” you said, trying your best to glare at the man in front of you.

“How dare you” he said grabbing hold of your arm as he raised his other hand, ready to hit you. You shut your eyes bracing yourself for the impact but a voice stopped the guard.

“What is the meaning of this?” A voice that you recognised all too well said venomously. You opened your eyes, eyes darting to where the sound came from only to be met with stern cold eyes.

“Y-your Highnesses” The guard immediately let go you your arm and bowed. You frowned rubbing your arm as you glared at the guard.

“This peasant was trying to impersonate the Royal Seal” he spoke and you scoffed.

“That couldn’t have been true, I remember personally writing and sending that scroll” The raven head spoke with narrowed eyes as you smirked.

“I-I I didn’t, I didn’t know your Highness” The guard stuttered and you had to try your best not to snicker.

“You are relieved from you duty..” the boy spoke eyeing the tall guard, “For good” he then added ignoring the pleading man who was being dragged away and making his way towards you.

“Princess” He bowed and you smiled bowing back.

“Hello Nana” you grinned at the boy who gave you a small smile back.

“I still don’t understand why you insist on living as a baker girl, you’re worth more than cheap frocks and scuffed up boots” Jaemin said with a frown.

“I tell you this every time you ask me Jaemin, after my parents died I had to freedom to do whatever I wanted but I’d still remain royalty. I thought I might as well live like a commoner until it lasts and I get married off” you said with a small humourless laugh.

Jaemins eyes softened, as he took hold of your cart and started to walk past the gates into the palace.

“You know my parents would never just marry you off” he said and you smiled knowingly. You knew his parents wouldn’t but the council men didn’t seem to be fond of the idea.

“I know” you said in a whisper, smiling reassuringly at the boy.

“Especially to someone you don’t want to be with” he added and you smiled, a sad smile.

“I want to be with you but that’s never going to happen” you said bitterly remembering how badly the court took the news of a blossoming romance between you and Jaemin.

Jaemins family ruled the neighbouring kingdom that had captured your country but still let your family and parents rule it, but when they died so suddenly when you were just a little girl it was but obvious that the Na’s were taking charge of your nation.

The Na’s were very sweet and very nurturing and caring of you. You were still treated like Royalty but alas you weren’t their child and some people in the high court made an issue out if it.

And so when you asked them if you could go live with your first cousin the baker (whom you considered your brother because before he left the palace the two of you basically grew up together) they didn’t object but they weren’t thrilled.

That however didn’t stop the romance blossoming between you and the Na’s youngest son. And his parents couldn’t have been more supportive but there was this stinky old man in the high court that always caused trouble and it was because of his convincingly evil words that you two couldn’t be together.

Well you couldn’t get married without it sparking trouble in the high court, that didn’t mean you two couldn’t be together while it lasted.

“Yes it’s going to happen! We’re going to be together” Jaemin said stopping abruptly and you frowned. You really didn’t like fake hope.

“Jaem..”

“Princess!” You heard a voice exclaim and both of you turned your heads in the direction of the voice. You smiled upon seeing who it was.

“Lord Lee” you smiled, a teasing glint in your eye and Jeno groaned.

“It’s annoying every time” he complained about the title, coming to stand next to you. He eyes travelled towards the carriage and immediately lit up.

“Are those..?” Jeno asked and you nodded with a smile, “Help yourself” you said and Jeno immediately darted towards the carriage ready to grab a cupcake when Jaemin swatted his hand with a pout.

“Get your own”

“It was you who said what’s mine is yours so now move” Jeno said shoving Jaemin aside and you chuckled.

“I knew I smelt cupcakes!” You heard another voice and grinned when you saw who it was.

“Sir Mark” you said with a grin and Mark blushed. “Not you too, it still sounds so foreign”

“How did this blushing mess of a boy even become a knight” Chenle said popping up from no where and you smiled at the boy, pointing at the cart. His eyes immediately lit up as he went to help himself to a cupcake.

“Taeyong hyung really out does himself” Jeno said moaning as he took a bite of the sweet treat.

“Yes and you boys forcing me to increase his already heavy workload does nothing to help him” Jaemin said glaring at the others while munching on a cupcake himself.

“Ahh Taeyong has a lot of help” you smiled and Chenle looks at you pointedly.

“Not me silly our neighbours” you say and you hear Jaemin huff.

“Jisung is an absolute darling but Donghyuck gosh I really don’t like him! Why couldn’t I have been your neighbour rather than that baboonic imbecile.” Jaemin complained and you chuckled.

“Oh c’mon he didn’t know you were Royalty!” You exclaimed, defending your favourite neighbour, who could agreeably be quite boisterous.

“He still shouldn’t treat someone the way he did me” Jaemin said with a petulant pout.

“Well you were dressed in commoners clothes, glaring at him for no reason while using such big words” you said, glaring at the boy in return.

“The young Prince’s jealousy knows no bounds” Chenle snickered, covering his mouth with his hand in a sorry attempt to hide it.

“You people just aren’t used to small town life” you argued and Mark nodded.

“It surely was an experience… Small town life and Lee Donghyuck” Mark said dreadfully and everyone laughed remembering the story Mark had told all of you about how Donghyuck had dragged him around town when Jaemin brought Mark along to distract the boy.

“But his brother is an absolute saint!” Jaemin exclaimed and you smiled, in those short, rare visits Jaemin made to town in disguise, he had come to grow very fond of Jisung and you couldn’t even blame him, the kid was very lovable.

“I don’t know from what you people tell me he sounds like he has poop hands” Chenle said with a shrug and you smiled, the young Lord wasn’t all that off.

“He does! That’s why Taeyong doesn’t let him anywhere near his kitchen, just send him to run some errands here and there” you say and Chenle smiles.

“Jeno that’s your fifth cupcake you’re going to get a bellyache” Mark says glaring at the boy who was quietly munching on cupcakes this whole time.

“Jeno hyung” Chenle said rolling his eyes, helping Mark drag Jeno away from the cupcake cart as they waved goodbye to you.

“These are the moments I live for” you said to Jaemin, as you smiled and waved goodbye. Jaemin stood there looking at you wave, smiling because you were.

“I know you like to live in the moment and not think about the future. But I promise you, you are in my future” Jaemin says, eyes shining with determination as he holds onto your hand giving it a squeeze. And for just this moment you let yourself harbour unrealistic hope.

But Na Jaemin has always proven to be a man of his word. “Where’s mother and Father?” He asks his brother Yuta once he steps inside the throne room.

“If I’d known I wouldn’t be sitting around waiting for them would I?” His older brother, the next King, chuckled.

Jaemin sighed with a nod, missing the way Yuta was grinning at him.

“I’m taking you met y/n again?” Yuta asked with a raised eyebrow and Jaemin solemnly nodded walking towards his brother.

“I want to be with her, but everyone seems to be against that idea” Jaemin sighed and Yuta smiled patting his brothers head.

“Old man Kim has always been a pain in our parents ass and he’s soon going to be a pain in mine. Be he can’t pass snide remarks and rile up to court if he is wrong.” Yuta said with a , hinting at something and Jaemin looked at him confused.

“I’m saying as a prince, and as the Royal Family’s second born you are made to memorize the most basic rules that glare at you in the face in that book but there are always more rules and… exceptions” Yuta said with a playful smirk and Jaemins eyes widened, smiling with mischief.

Of course! The Archives have all the rule and exceptions to the rules!

Jaemin bolted out of the room and rushed to the parlour. “Jeno! Jeno where are you? Jeno!” He yelled in search of his friend and partner in crime.

“He’s not hear young prince” Chenle said shutting his book and glaring at the noise maker. “He’s training”

“Whyyy” Jaemin whined dramatically falling onto the soft sofa and Chenle cocked a brow. “To protect you in the future?”

“Chenle! “Jaemin then sprang up clapping his hands and smiling at the boy with a very plotting grin. Hesitantly Chenle said “..Yes?”

“Come help me!” Jaemin pleaded and Chenle was about to refuse but found himself just letting Jaemin drag him to the archives, not having the heart to deny the Prince who requested his assistance with such bright and hopeful eyes, a contrast to his normal demeanour.

And that’s how both the boys found themselves in the Royal archives, sitting on one circular messy table with books and scrolls stacked or left open scattered around the table, reading through all the lesser known rules and exceptions.

“We’re never going to find anything” Jaemin groaned throwing his head back in frustration, flipping through his eight book.

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that” Chenle said smiling, and handing the book he was reading to Jaemin. As Jaemins eyes darted over the page that was open an evil smirk started taking over his features.

“Will this work?” Chenle asked with hopeful eyes and Jaemin nodded and then started looking around the table for something.

“What are you looking for?” Chenle asked, eyeing the boy curiously.

“A scroll that I read earlier, about a study” Jaemin said making the messy table messier in his search for the scroll.

Chenle rolled his eyes, resting back onto the chair, drained from all the non-fantasy reading he had to do today. As he slumped back onto his chair, something on the floor caught his eyes.

“Jaemin” he said catching the older boys attention and pointing at the piece of paper on the floor.

Upon picking up the paper the young Prince’s eyes lit up, “You’ve been my saviour twice today!” Jaemin exclaimed happily with a low laugh as he glanced at the contents of the scroll.

“Anything that makes you happy” The younger boy whispered to himself as he watched the prince make notes.

On Monday morning Jaemin walked into the council meeting with a pride, head held up high.

“Council” He said bowing to everyone in the room as everyone bowed back.

“I wish to marry princess Y/n” Jaemin spoke confidentially.

“Young lad we have already told you this kingdom does not benefit from a union between you and the princess at all! In fact it will look bad marrying a prisoner” old man Kim said glaring at Jaemin who glared back.

“It’s your Highness to you council man Kim” Jaemin glared at the man who sat on his seat looking taken back while his parents and brother tried hard not to snicker. “And how dare you call the princess who is protected and cared for by the Royal Family a prisoner?” Jaemin said still glaring at the man who immediately looked frightened and only got more scared once he saw the glaring faces of the King and Queen.

“B-but she still isn’t beneficial to the kingdom your highness” Old man Kim stuttered.

“The law says the King is expected to marry someone of high status and power, who’s company brings the kingdom peace and good relationships.” Jaemin says reciting what he was taught and old man Kim seems to straighten up proud that he was right.

“However the law says expected, not obliged. If the King isn’t obliged nor am I. In fact ages ago King Cheoljong had and experiment conducted where he gave two commoners jobs in the high court to look after a small portion of land. One was allowed to do what he wanted to and marry whomever he wished to while the other was restricted by unreasonable laws and had to marry whoever the King thought was good for that small piece of land, a wealthy women if I must. The happier man with the happy stable marriage showed better fruits and the other man simply disappointed the King” Jaemin finished his little story with a smile sent to the council who was listening intently.

“Ever since then it was encouraged that the Royal Family’s happiness came before any bonds and treaties. But Council man Kim seems to be completely against my happiness for his own gain” Jaemin said glaring at the man and a few gasps were heard throughout the court.

“On what basis are you making such an accusation your highness? I only look out for you and the kingdom”

“Or is that what you want us to think? I hired private investigator Huang Guanheng and he seems to think differently” Jaemin smirks and Council man Kim straightens his posture, trying his best to look cool and composed.

“Is it or is it not true that you have a niece, Lady Jo Hwajin, daughter of Duke and Duchess Jo, whom you have promised a spot in this country among the Royals?” Jaemin asked and council man Kim was about to answer when he cut him off, “Remember lying to any member of the Royal Family is treason”,

Old man Kim seems to contemplate his answer before bowing his head in shame, “Yes your highness”

“And is it or is it not true that you were planning on forcing me to marry her” Jaemin asked with a raised eyebrow and council man Kim’s eyes widened.

“I-I would-“

“Be careful of what you say council man Kim” Jaemin said pulling out an envelope from his coat, holding it between his middle and pointer finger, “I haven’t come here making accusations unprepared”

“Yes your highness” old man Kim says bowing his head, avoiding eye contact. Jaemin smirked at that, he didn’t need to know the envelop was empty.

“Now a marriage like that doesn’t ensure peace or good relationship, but marrying y/n will just give our already trusting people more reason to trust and support our rule, she after all was their beloved King and Queens first born.” Jaemin said and his parents smiled at him.

“But your highness, my niece will ensure good relations with the Kingdom and Princess y/n hasn’t been talked about in ages. People might not even remember her” Old man Kim interrupted and Jaemin glared at him.

“You live comfortably in the high court Council Man Kim, I on the other hand have spent numerous days disguised as a commoner getting to know our people, are you suggesting you know more about them than I do?”

Old man Kim’s eyes widened comically as he stuttered out a response, “N-no you’re H-highness”

“Good” Jaemin said still glaring at the man and then turned to his parents.

“Since that matter is settled, Mother, Father and all council members, I wish to marry princess y/n” Jaemin says, eyes shinning with victory when his parents give him an approving nod when no one in the council objected.

“This order is ridiculously large” You grunt pushing the cart from behind.

“You can just sit this one out y/n” Taeyong says smiling at you with worry as you struggled with the cart. You nodded you head, grabbing onto the cart, eyes shining with determination as you were ready to march to the palace.

“Need help?” Haechan asked, with a smiling Jisung by his side.

“No it’s okay” you said and Taeyong frowned. “Yes we’d love the extra hands”

“Yay road trip!” Jisung exclaimed happily before you could protest.

“Yes!’ Haechan exclaimed, excitedly jumping towards you taking the cart from you hands as he started moving ahead before Taeyong could even tell him where you were going.

“Should we just let him realise he’s alone or should we stop and follow him?” Jisung asked in a whisper, leaning towards you and Taeyong and you chuckled while Taeyong glared at the youngest, chasing after and call Haechan.

“Huh I guess not” Jisung shrugged as the two of you followed the two men with the carts.

“Oh yes! I was told to expect you..just not so many of you” The guard at the door said, questioningly eyeing Jisung and Haechan when you reached the palace gates.

“About time!” Mark who was dressed casually said running towards you as you glared at the boy.

“Is he mad? I know for a fact that there isn’t any occasion in the palace why would he order so many cupcakes” you complained and Jisung and Haechan looked at you with wide eyes.

“Y/n we really love you and don’t want to see you beheaded so please don’t talk smack about the crown” Jisung whisper yelled and you and Mark chuckled.

“It’s her birth right to talk smack about the prince because if not y/n then who else” Jeno approached you, his eye smile on full display. And a quite Chenle followed him. It wasn’t like Chenle to be quite but you knew he was just eyeing the two new faces.

“Oh well y/n it was nice knowing you” Haechan said wiping a fake tear and Chenle smiled. You had a feeling they would get along just fine

“But there is a very special occasion” Chenle said with a sly smirk and you frowned. But before you could ask any questions the group had already started moving into the palace.

“Taeyong!” Yuta yelled approaching your small crowd after you made your way into the castle and Haechan and Jisung immediately bowed.

“Yuta it’s been forever” Taeyong said going to hug the other male.

“It really has” Yuta said smiling and then looked at Haechan and Jisung, “You may rise” he said with a chuckle as the two hesitantly rose.

“Any friend of y/n and Taeyong is a friend of mine so you can drop the formalities when we’re in private.” Yuta said and you cringed looking at the wide eyed confused boys, what if they caught onto who you were.

“Y/n! Love of my life! Princess!” You heard another voice yell and you sighed when you caught a glimpse of Haechans and Jisungs face, yeah they’re definitely cathcing on and you definitely had a lot of explaining to do.

“Jaemin?” Haechan yelled shocked and you honestly expected the prince to glare at the boy but he simply smiled back.

“How did you leave out the fact that Jaemin’s Royalty!” Jisung whisper yelled immediately bowing and dragging Haechan down with him. You sighed.

“Oh please you didn’t bow down to me back then when you jumped on my back and it’s definitely not needed now” Jaemin said rolling his eyes as he made his way to you pulling you into a hug.

“Y/n! How could you let me jump on Jae- The crowned princes back” Jisung yelled at you absolutely mortified.

“You yell at Y/n just fine without crying and worrying about how she’s a princess” Chenle adds in just to boggle up the younger more and it seems to work as Jisung pales.

“She’s a what!” Haechan exclaims as you glare at Chenle who laughed.

“Honestly Haechan your volume hasn’t changed a bit” Mark says rubbing his ears.

“Why don’t you tell the princess why we’re celebrating” Jeno said nudging Jaemin shoulder.

“Well I’m getting engaged!” Jaemin starts excitedly holding onto your hands and you feel you heart break, forcing on a smile. At least he seems to be happy about it so the person he’s getting engaged to must be really lovely.

“Well it isn’t confirmed because she’s yet to say yes to me” Jaemin said scratching his head and the action would honestly seem comical to you if not for the fact that you could hear your heart shatter.

“Actually I haven’t even asked her” He says and you put on a very forced smile. You were sure you looked constipated.

“I hope she says yes then” you said giving his hands a soft squeeze. “You think she will?” He askes and you nod slowly. Why would she say no to such an amazing, talented and beautiful young man.

“Oh I’ve got one more question for you” Jaemin said and you raised your eyebrows, smile almost turning into a cringe. Why was he doing this to you.

You were expecting him to ask you things like how to propose, or where to propose or maybe what type of ring should he buy.

You weren’t expecting him to get down on one knee, smiling at you, “Marry me y/n” he says holding a ring in his hands, you didn’t see him pull it out from his pocket or see anyone pass the ring to him. You didn’t even see the box anywhere.

You stood there shocked for a few seconds not answering him and his grin faltered ever so slightly.

“Y/n this is the part where you answer him” Taeyong said snapping you of your state of shock as you nodded and broke into a smile as Jaemin slid the ring onto your finger, laughing away the happy tears that made its way to his eyes.

“What- but how? The council? And you parents?” You struggled with words as Jaemin pulled you against his chest and laughed a hearty laugh.

“All taken care of he whispered as you wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your head in his shoulder squeezing him in your arms.

“Ohhh I’m going to miss you” Taeyong said watching the two of you with a small smile.

“You’re telling me, our former crowned princess has been living next door this entire while and her peculiar friend that we bullied was the current crowned prince, and that now the prince and princess are going to get married and I just witnessed their engagement” Jisung said as he continued to freak out.

“Don’t forget the part where you completely forget to greet two of the most important Lords in the Kingdom and a very prestigious knight” Chenle adds and you were afraid Jisung might combust on the spot.

“Eh y/n loves us so we’ll live don’t listen to the rude boy with power” Haechan said patting Jisungs back in hopes of comfort the younger but ends up hitting the boy just a little too hard.

“Chenle’s going to have one heck of a time with Jisung around.” Jeno chuckled and Mark nodded.

“That means peace for me” Mark says but pales when Donghyuck chimes in, “I wouldn’t be to sure about that”

“Wait if Mark is a knight, Jaemin a prince and Y/n a princess what does that make you hyung?” Jisung, who had calmed down asked Taeyong.

“A baker” Taeyong replied grinning and Yuta scoffed.

“He’s Duke Lee, last heir of the Royal Lee’s of the north” Yuta said and Donghyucks jaw dropped open.

“Who?” Jisung asked and Mark chuckled.

“He’s Y/n first cousin and the only child of Princess Lee, our former kings second born.” Haechan said, still in awe.

“How have we not yet been beheaded” Jisung says palling for the nth time that day, how the boy was still conscious was a mystery.

“Give him some time to adjust and he’ll be just as bratty as before” Donghyuck chuckled, patting the boys back.

“Let him spend the day with Chenle and he’ll be fine” you said with a smile, arms still wrapped around Jaemins waist, head against his chest.

You could feel the low rumble in his chest as he chuckled when Chenle smiled his infamous spawn of Satan smile and when Jisung looked even more terrified, forgetting that he has a brother that could rival that smile.

Mark on the other hand seemed to pale at the view of said smile by said brother and Jeno laughed, ready to encourage whatever Donghyuck was plotting.

Yuta was celebrating with Taeyong at the side after the older had secretly agreed to coming back to the palace, on the condition that he has full control over the kitchen.

And you smiled, in your princes, well fiancé’s warm arms, knowing that everything was right with the world.

Happy Jaemin Day💖

Hope you enjoyed reading this~

Now I don't know if I got the labels or hierarchy correct with all the Royal labeling but hopefully I've come close?

But it doesn't matter cus this is in an alternative universe where whatever the author says happens and where the author is never wrong :D

I didn't want to include some big ass speech for the proposal because clearly they've talked about wanting to get married before and it would just be meaningless to have an entire speech.

Idk why I didn't include Renjun considering the rest of dream is there, I just didn't know how to write him in ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Anyway it would be greatly appreciated if you told me what you think of this fic

Jae out✌️

[allandoflimbo]

Ashens (Part 22)

Summary: She falls in love with Bucky Barnes from the moment she sees him. Bucky, still in love with a woman from his past, hates Y/N and plans to make her life miserable. To both their dismay, they are assigned together to go undercover into The Capitol for six months. There, they develop a heartbreaking friend with benefits agreement. Dystopian.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 3,600

Rating: M for Mature, E for explicit. Enemies to lovers trope, sharing a bed trope, friends with benefits trope, temporarily unrequited love, heavy and angry sex, heavy on the angst, and very strong language.

Full Masterpage |

He’s been gone all morning. You don’t know where he went and you didn’t ask before he left. Whatever it was, you weren’t too concerned, anyway. It was about time you two had some space. It helped clear your mind and helped you move on. You were moving on.

There was another reason you were thankful he had left for the morning. You could feel the chills run up the sides of your arms, goosebumps appearing where your skin was once smooth.

You eyed the closet doors curiously. It was almost eerie how quiet it was around you. You dropped your eyes for only a moment before raising them up again.

You had to do this. You were going to do this.

You finally gather the balls to do something you’ve been wanting to for some time now. It had been eating away at you like mad.

Once in front of the closet, you crouch down. You raise your left hand slowly roll the doors open, your eyes immediately dart down to the little black box on the ground. Exactly where he’d left it.

Part of you was happy that it remained untouched.

Per Steve’s orders, you had both buried any of your weaponry about a mile before reaching the wall nearly three months ago. You weren’t supposed to be bring any inside with you. It was forbidden.

It had shocked you when you and Bucky had been arguing about going after Ashen and he had pulled out a G19, angrily strapping it onto his leg to prove a point. He obviously snuck it in. At the time, you hadn’t really given it much thought. You were more shocked that he ignored his best friend’s request.

Now, it concerned you for different reasons.

You sat criss cross in front of the box, staring at it for a few more long seconds. Taking in a deep breath, you opened it. It opened with a small click.

There it was.

Matte black. Subtle but deadly.

You eyed the gun like it was a ticking bomb. You’ve never held a fire arm before, but that wasn’t necessarily why you were nervous. You were nervous to know why the hell he had it stacked away in your bedroom when you knew he didn’t even have the intention of killing anyone on this mission. He made sure to make you aware of this, many times.

You also knew it wasn’t to be used on you. There was no way.

The only other plausible reason he had it, kept you on edge.

You didn’t want your thoughts going there.

You reached slowly for the gun until you felt it lay heavy in your right hand. It was heavier than it looked. It felt deadlier than it looked.

You swallowed thickly, allowing yourself to think the worst.

Was he going to use this on himself?

You suddenly wanted it as far away from you as possible.

Your hand trembled slightly as you put it back in its place, letting your fingers linger on the ridges for just a moment.

You let out a long breath realizing.

When you had eyed the closet, you didn’t really think it through.

What were you going to do once you had it in your hands? Were you going to get the gun and hide it? Were you just curious? Was there something about it that secretly terrified you and you weren’t going to believe you really saw him hold it until you held it yourself?

You shake your head, pushing the box back into its original place. You were over exaggerating.

He probably just brought it in case you both needed it for self protection.

You looked over at your black back pack right next to it and pulled it out.

You fished inside, looking at different things you forgot you still had. You had your grey sweater, scarf, and beat up boots at the bottom. It smelled dusty.

You stuck your hand into the front pocket of the backpack, pulling out a note. It wasn’t your first time reading it, but you need the gentle reminder.

Thank you again for doing this. Thank you for helping me out and for agreeing to our plan to help Bucky be happy again. We can do this together. That plan, to me, is the most important thing right now. Thank you for doing whatever it takes to mentally convince him he deserves happiness. What you’re doing means the world to me, y/n. See you both again very soon. I’ll make it up to you. I promise.

Steve

You felt small tears in your eyes at your promise. If only he knew how it wasn’t so easy. You closed your eyes tightly together, took a deep breath, and placed the note onto your chest.

I’ll keep trying.

+ +

You didn’t understand these jobs that came with your ID. You didn’t understand most of what you were being told to do, but you did it anyway.

At the end of the day, your number one plan was to still kill Ashen. So you went through with what Bucky ordered you to do until it was time.

Your first day at the tower started off better than how you thought it would. Mr. Hyde was a old gentleman in his late 50s. He had short white hair and a nicely trimmed white beard to compliment it. He knew you were learning and that this would be your first time working up to a secretary job, so he started you off with small assistant duties like transporting paper work around the building, scheduling, and grabbing anything personal he may need here and there.

The best part was when he gave you a tour of the building, the whole reason you even were excited about it. Maybe this was why this was written into the mission.

He explained to you what each floor was but never took you past floor 15. You eyed the buttons on the elevator suspiciously.

He said that wasn’t their area and that “we didn’t need to worry about it”. You needed a special code to access those floors anyway.

You quickly made a connection. You wondered how Bucky had gotten in the other day.

The atmosphere in the elevator went cold when you stopped somewhere on the seventh floor and a man dressed in black and gold walked in. It was a fitted suit, expensive looking, and he had a cold look in his eyes. You swallowed thickly, looking away from him. You pulled your scarf tighter around your neck, trying to conceal your tattoo as much as you could.

Something about this man was off.

You heard the term Coroner a lot when you worked serving drinks. They weren’t the coroner most people knew, they were cop meets bounty hunter.

There was just something about them that left you uneasy. He stood in front of you and you felt yourself shuffle back a few inches. You looked over at Mr. Hyde and he gave you a small smile.

You smiled back.

+ +

It wasn’t until your fourth day at the building when things finally took a turn.

Bucky was going to meet you at a stairwell for floor eleven. He was going to trace Silas down once and for all. The night after the ball, Bucky was went traced them down to see where they would take the new import. According to what he overheard, there had been some complications and it wouldn’t be administered until today.

You got up from your seat, pretending you were just looking for the restroom, when you turned down the narrow hallway and went for the door that led into the stairwell.

You had three floors to climb up to meet him.

You were on the ninth floor when you turned the corner of the stairs and your heart nearly jumped up into your throat.

His face, his hair, his eyes, and his damn voice.

It all hit you at once and you turned back the direction you came from, leaning back against the steal rods. You put a hand up to your head as you felt dizzy. You could feel your heart beating away like crazy and you felt that anger you harbored down for so long.

It was him. The face from the diner and the face of the man that killed your mom and dad.

Ashen.

And he was with another woman.

“He’s our child and he’s dying!” The woman shouted. You could hear the tears in her voice.

“I know but there’s not much else I can do,” the voice. It was deep and violent. You hated it. You hated him, “He woke up this morning, cured! Without us even giving him the dose of the chemical. It’s obvious his plasma contains some kind of fending off mechanism. It took years, but he obviously survived it and no longer has it.”

You took a deep breath as you processed what you were hearing.

Had the little boy been infected with the virus, but now was doing well?

“And?” The woman insisted.

“And?” An evil laugh came from within Ashen’s chest, “We need all his blood, goddamn it! We need it distributed to our men if we want our side to stay strong once we go out there!”

“You can’t possibly still think—“

“It’s our world —“

“But we are safe here. Our son is safe here!”

“You didn’t think we’d all stay stuck in here for all eternity, did you? Hydra and Sword is to control the world, not the city. These walls kept us safe long enough and our son is well now, and we might have the cure in our hands. It’s all we need to conquer.”

You could hear sniffling.

“You can’t kill our son.” The woman begged.

“No,” he said slowly, “Not yet at least. We need trial periods.”

“Ashen, please-“

“I sacrificed everything for him!” A shriek followed by a gruntled groan came from the woman and you wondered what he was doing to her, “I cut the plan short, of us taking the capitol, because of him! I was minding my own business that night before I got the call. I took the risks, I found the refuge, I found the goods, and I called an initiative, and now look at us, we’re all safe. And our son just also happens to be the possible cure for all of this. If Hydra completing this mission requires my son’s life, so be it.”

“I won’t let you hurt him! I won’t let you pick at him with needles and knives. He is my baby boy!”

“Was, honey, was.” You could hear a loud smack, “And after him, you’re next.”

“What?”

“Now let’s get back in there and congratulate him.”

You could still feel your heart beating away inside of your ears as you heard the shuffling of their feet, followed by the closing of a door.

This was way too much information for you to process. This was too much for you. Suddenly, you cursed Bucky for making you work intel. Intel was the worst part.

You knew this information and now you had to tell him without freaking out, or worst, freaking him out.

It didn’t take much longer for a familiar face to turn the corner of the stairwell.

His blue eyes met yours over his scarf.

“What the hell are you doing here, I said eleventh —-“ his voice faltered as he watched your stricken face. His own eyes fell and he raised a hand to the back of your head and caressed it softly, “Hey, hey, it’s okay. What’s going on?”

“I—“ you whimpered out. Bucky hushed you as he leaned his forehead against yours. He closed his eyes tightly together, “I—he—“

“Breathe. Breathe. Breath for me.”

You took in a deep breath and controlled your breathing.

When you opened your eyes he was staring straight down at you.

“I saw him.” Bucky’s eyes darted over your face, knowing exactly what you were talking about. Who you were talking about, “I saw him.” You repeat again. He nods, “I can’t stay here, Bucky. Not when he’s here. He killed mom and dad, Bucky.” You whimpered into a cry.

“Hey, shhhh,” he brought his hand to your jaw and ran his thumb there gently, “shhh. I’m sorry,” he straightens his head up over yours and places a kiss on the top of your head, “I’m sorry you saw him.”

You ran your hands up his chest and softly pushed him away from you. Bucky’s face fell, along with his hands at his sides. You looked away from him, running the back of your sweater-clothed hand underneath your nose.

You needed to create distance. You and him, whatever it was, was no more.

“I overheard them.”

“Them?”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair.

“Yes, them. Him and what I can only imagine is maybe his wife? I don’t know, it was another woman. The little boy’s mother.”

Bucky took a deep breath.

“Okay, and what did they say?”

“He’s going to kill him. He can potentially save us, save all of us, but instead he’s going to kill him, I—I—“ you were freaking out as your ran both hands down your face.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“The boy!” You shouted quietly, pointing to the direction where the stairs continued. “Ashen is after the boy. He’s going to kill the mom and he’s after the boy, too.”

“What? Why? Why is he after his own son?”

You took a deep breath and met Bucky’s gaze again. His jaw was tight and he looked apprehensive.

“They think the cure is in his plasma.” You say slowly and carefully, knowing how much weight the words held.

“The cure?”

“For the virus. The boy’s blood.”

Bucky let out a long breath, running a hand through his own hair now and pulling on it.

“And why does he want the child dead? Does he not want the cure?”

“No, no he does.”

“What? He wants it just for himself?” You whined as you looked away again, “Y/N, you came on this mission for this reason. It’s for you to give me the important information you have right at this moment. Tell me, why does he want the boy dead?”

“He says he wants to make enough just for Hydra and Sword,” Bucky’s face went pale, “I’m assuming it’s because he doesn’t want anyone else after that having access to it. He kills the boy, no more cure for anyone else.”

“That,” his tongue clicks, “That’s absurd. Hydra wants to recruit more bad, not kill off the remaining race. It defeats the purpose of world domination.”

“I think they have a change of plans. They said they want to control the rest of the world.”

“With a raging virus? How is that even possible?”

“I don’t know. That was all he said before I heard him choking his wife. I don’t know what they plan to do after they go out there, protected. I don’t know.”

“And in that vile? What was in the vile?”

“I don’t know, a trial drug. But nothing as good as the boy’s blood.”

Bucky lets out a long breath as he walks back and forth, clearly stressed and overwhelmed. You watched him, intrigued. You’ve never seen him worry like this before.

“Shit, shit, shit.” he mumbles under his breath, “What do we do? What do we do.”

You stare down at his feet as they continue to move across the floor.

“I think it’s obvious what we need to do.”

“What?”

“We need to take him.” You say seriously, looking Bucky dead in the eye.

“We need to take him.” He says back.

“We can’t let Hydra have access to the cure and let the rest of the world burn and we can’t get him get killed.” You place a hand on Bucky’s arm to stop him and he looks up at you. You could practically see the emotions in his eyes, “He’s just a little boy.”

“Unfortunately, I can’t just go in there and take the kid. I can’t just kidnap someone’s child.”

“Why not?” You ask simply.

Bucky lets out a scoff.

“What?”

“Bucky look at the stakes here. He wants him killed, he’ll build an army to dictate the rest of the world. Bucky we have no other option. This is the end of the world. There is no time for common courtesy.”

“Okay. Okay, just relax. We need to plan this through, okay? So far us two and his parents are the only ones who know about him right?”

“I mean his doctor probably knows too and also the scientist he’s working with. The man who probably sent in those viles.”

“Those viles can be good too, right? We need to take those, too. At least a few. There has to be a reason they brought them in. Maybe they aren’t timely useless. Trial drug or not.”

“So we take the boy, now—”

“We can’t, y/n.” Bucky says strictly. You don’t expect his hand to cup your cheek again. It takes your breath away. Why was he behaving this way? “He said he’ll wait anyway. They probably need to run tests first. We still have two and a half months left in here. If we take him now, they’ll notice he’s gone, and Hydra’s already suspecting there’s intruders inside the wall. It’s too risky. We need to wait,” he runs his hand over your chin and tilts his head slowly to the side. A pained look is in his eyes, “I know you want to, and I want to, too, but we need to do this carefully.”

“So what do you suggest?” Your voice comes out rough.

“I don’t know, maybe we can keep an eye on him or something.” He says. “His father works here, maybe you’ll see him around. Warm up to him. Make sure he’s safe.”

“Ashen knows what I look like.”

Bucky nods.

“I know that. Maybe there’s something we can do. Maybe I can find where he stays in the building. I’ll figure something out. And you’ll be safe, I promise. He won’t see you.”

You believe Bucky’s words and you nod.

“Okay.”

“What do you think? Should we risk him seeing me?” He says with a small smile on his face.

You look at him incredulously.

“Are you dumb?”

“What?” He asks like it’s nothing.

“You’re Captain America’s best fiend. If you really think he wouldn’t recognize you right away and run and tell his dad, you’re insane.”

___

It had been a successful day. It was exhausting and you and Bucky were both clearly burnt out, emotionally and mentally. A lot happened for both of you. You both took a shower, individually of course, you had dinner and you finally got him to watch the first half of Titanic. It was a long night.

But it wasn’t the end of the day yet.

You sat on the bed crisscross and in your PJs, looking out into the city, deep in thought.

Bucky moves over to you and across the bed and you close your eyes tightly together, feeling the bed dip down. You can feel him as he puts his hand on your shoulder.

“We’ll save him, okay? Imagine how much Steve will love us when you come back not only with a life saved, but with the cure.” His words are gentle and sweet, but hold so much weight over you.

You couldn’t do this. You made that promise a few days ago.

“Look, Bucky I don’t think we should do this anymore. Our agreement.” You say quietly, your voice breaking off at the end.

He went still and you felt a cold rush where he began to remove his hand from your skin.

“Oh, I didn’t realize that—“

“Bucky—“

“I didn’t know you weren’t in the mood. I’m sorry.”

“No,” you say quietly and so heartbreakingly slow that you know he can feel it too. Why did it feel this way? “It’s not that.” You slowly turn around to face him. He’s got both arms stretched down on the bed below him, palms down, and he’s staring at you like he was afraid you would hurt him again like you did the other night. You looked away from him and pushed yourself away to give you both more room to breathe

“Sweetheart—“

“I’ve decided to go out with Pietro again,” You watch as his eyes drop from your own to the spot just next to your arm. He swallows hard and there’s a flicker of something in his eyes that isn’t necessarily jealously, “We want to see where it goes. I know we’ll only be here a little while longer, but who knows the future, right? What if I see him again?”

Bucky swallows again and clears his throat.

“It wouldn’t feel right doing that to him.”

“Oh.”

“So, uh,” he straightens himself out until he’s standing, and he pulls his shirt down in a sort of fidgety way you almost find adorable if it weren’t for the heartbroken look in his eyes, “you’re gonna date?”

You tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, feeling a tightness in your chest that you couldn’t bare.

Why did it feel like this?

“Yeah. I deserve someone that will take care of me like that, don’t you think?”

Bucky’s eyes are unreadable at that point. This was what he wanted, right? For you to move on and meet someone better for you?

“You’ll find a guy your age, you don’t want an old thing like me, anyway.”

“You do.” It hurt him to say it. It fucking destroyed him in the goddamn core.

@snakeeatery17 @utterlyhopeful-fics , @marvelfan1017, @iheartsebastianstan , @annathesillyfriend , @redhairedfeistynerd, @perksofbeingabookworm, @amyrose051, @meegggoooo, @morganclaire4 , @captainchrisstan, @bxndys , @shoesonpointe ,  @writerwrites, @rainbowkisses31, @lindatreb , @littlemissner98 , @dezzylou24, @ayeitslelee , @hardygal69 ,  @emmabarnes , @redbarn1995@thequeenreaders@ilovemysupersoldiers@maximumplaidzonknerd@ceapa-mica @s-trawberryv-eins@buckysknifecollections@sobangie@lindatreb@theseuscmander@nervous-plant @wildmoonflower @aya-fay@appreciating-fanfics@kaitlynisinfinite@justreadingfics@kaitieskidmore1 @mrsdancing​ @everythingiloveandcherish @shinykoalacat​ @dragongirl31 @kaitlynisinfinite​ 

[ask-whitepearl-and-steven]

How to Ask Steven stuff.

Because apparently we need a tutorial.

Okay guys. I know I encourage you to send me asks and then somehow don’t reply to any of your lovingly-crafted little gifts of joy and 280 characters. I ask for questions for Steven and then never touch them when they arrive. 

And so it stands to reason that we may need to explain WHY and HOW I choose the asks I answer. 

It turns out I DON’T just answer every question willy nilly, and I DON’T just answer the ones who yell the loudest, beg the most, and send me the most asks. In fact, all those things just make it more likely to delete your message! (Sorry guys, but if you wrote ‘plz reply!!!!’ into any message you sent me, there’s a 99% chance I deleted it immediately.)

Anyway, to remedy this breakdown in communication, I’ve decided to do a quick writeup of how I select asks - and which asks I delete on sight and why. 

Keep in mind that this is not an exhaustive list. 

Let’s get right into it:

[Text: Reason #1: Future Vision. Ask reads: “Steven!! Listen to me! You’re not a full gem! You’re White Diamond’s don! Pearl killed Pink! Rose Quartz isn’t who she says she is!!!” - REJECTED.]

Guilty of - trying to be a sapphire and using future vision to spoil plot points FOR THE CHARACTERS. 

I will not reply to these asks. Full stop. The ONLY time I did was back in season 1 where someone told Steven he’s magical.

Reason: It takes away Steven’s ability to discover things on his own, and makes even less sense in the meta. WHY would a person sending him asks know more about it than he, himself does?

[Text: Reason #2: Choose Your Own Adventure Gaming. Ask reads: “Steven, you should go up to the lighthouse on top of the temple. Then knock on the door. Then talk to Ronaldo. Then ask him about Sneeple. Then...” - REJECTED]

Guilty of - trying to control Steven like a character in a videogame or an RPG.

These asks get a delete 90% of the time because 90% of the time they don’t move the story forward. They’re just the asker trying to grab control of the story to move it in the direction THEY personally want it to go. The solution here is to make your own story. 

Even asks that have one thing are on thin ice. If you sent me a message that starts with ‘Steven, you should ___’ then there’s a 50% chance it will not be answered.

Reason: It says ‘ASK’, not  ‘TELL’ and not ‘ORDER’. 

[Text: Reason #3: Sex/Violence. Ask is censored with a mosaic. REJECTED. ]

Guilty of: Not reading the room.

We get it. You’re edgy. You Grew Up. You know about Big Adult Stuff. It’s Exciting for you because it’s new and makes you realize for the first time that you’re a bag of meat. You’re trying to wipe the feeling off by inflicting it on other people and hope it makes them feel the same way because you can’t handle thoughts going through it alone. The idea of thinking something and NOT immediately sharing it is alien to you. You have no self control. 

Reason: There’s a time and place for everything. This is not that time, and not that place. 

[Text: Reason #4: Too Soon. Ask: “Hey Steven, I just wanted to ask about how Earl feels about Rose now that she knows Rose shattered Pink Diamond!” ON HOLD.]

Guilty of: Jumping the gun and asking about a plot turn that has not yet taken place in the comic. 

These asks are actually fine! :)

But I am unlikely to answer them anytime soon. The most likely outcome is that I save them to my Big Ol’ Pile of Asks and answer them... someday. When they finally become applicable. 

[Text: Reason #5: Misc. Ask 1: “Hey can you draw me my OC he has spiky hair and anime eyes and big boots and his...” Ask 2: “can steven skateboard? also i love your work :)” Ask 3: “When is the next comic coming oooout? Last week you posted 36 panels and this week you ONLY posted 34!!! >:( Why are you so lazy?!”]

I think most of these are a little self-explanitory.

I will generally delete asks that:

- beg for artwork, especially for free

- ignore the FAQ

- ask ME questions instead of asking Steven, or combine them (sorry guys... I wanna answer, but if I can’t tell which one of us you’re talking to, I can’t use the ask!)

- Demand that I work MORE or that I’m somehow not satisfying your intense need for free-to-read content at the desired pace, because the world is your oyster and you NEED. THAT. PONY!!!! 

... I want to mention one LAST reason that I may be ‘ignoring’ your ask. 

And that is to say, I’m not ignoring you at aLL and instead I’m just holding the ask quietly and sobbing because you’ve absolutely made my day with your kind words and I can’t find it in me to release the ask into the wild. 

(I love you all, I promise I read your ask!! I’m just very bad at answering! I’m so sorry!!!!)

And just to finish off, to put your minds to rest I will also say this:

I WILL NEVER DELETE ASKS FOR ONLY THIS REASON: 

- Your English isn’t “good enough”

I am an immigrant. I also had to learn English. Trust me, a few mistakes here and there are FINE! Don’t worry about spelling or grammar! If I understand you, we’re good. 

Thank you for reading! I hope this was somewhat helpful.

Okay but seriously, PLEASE read the FAQ.

[lassuscorde]

75 PROMPTS

(that are under the cut!)

feel free to pop up to three at a time in my inbox as well as a little desc about what ya want. I won’t do full nsfw but mild/suggestive stuff is alright.

1 “can i hold your hand?” 2 “you’re making my stomach hurt. in a good way?” 3 “god, just come here, will you?” 4 “Man. Sometimes, I just really wanna squish your face. What is this, cuteness aggression? 5 “Is that … me?” 6 “ … is that my shirt?” 7 “Sit down, idiot, I’m making you a snack.” 8 “If I win, you gotta kiss me, and i dont mean a peck on the cheek.” 9 “You are the best pillow!” 10 “Let me take care of you or I will kill you myself.” 11 ”Sometimes, you remind me of a fairytale character.” 12 ”Last time I let you cook, you set the fucking sprinklers off!” 13 ”I just realized- you have really pretty eyes.” 14 “Can’t sleep? Me neither.” 15 “I didn’t-…I didn’t want you to see me cry, alright.” 16 ”Please. I just need someone to talk to.” 17 ”I dunno. I would marry you!” 18 ”Can I sleep in your room?” 19 ”You’re so warm …” 20 ”I dunno, I guess a hug would be nice?” 21 ”I just realized. I’ve never really … touched you before?” 22 ”At this rate, I’m going to run out of tissues.” 23 ”Can I hug you?” 24 ”You just look so kissable-“ 24 ”Can I play with your hair?” 25 “If you’re not careful, you might hurt that pretty face of yours.” 26 “I AM- SO SORRY— ohh god-” 27 “Are you sure it wont hurt?” ”I have no idea. Sure hope not.” 28 “Fuck, yes, I’m scared.” 29 “You’ve been so good to me. I- I wanna pay you back, okay?” 30 “Just take it off … please?” 31 “You’re … wow. Y/n, you’re beautiful.” 32 “Little short to reach, are we?” 33 “I’ve always wondered if I could pick you up.” 34 “I never realized how pretty your hands were!” 35 ”So maybe I want them to rail me against a wall, so what?” 36 ”I have a feeling I wasn’t supposed to hear that.” 37 ”And to think I thought you were just a pushover.” 38 ”No no, it’s ok, everyone wants to fuck me.” 39 ”Geez, staring problem much?” 40 ”You baited me into this, didn’t you?” 41 ”That’ll leave a mark.” 42 ”I thought you said you could take it?” 43 ”No way, you’re gonna take up all the hot water!” 44 ”A bath sounds nice.” 45 ”Look, I’m sick of you talking bad about yourself, okay?” 46 “Just because you wouldn’t fuck you doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t!” 47 ” ‘oooh I hate you so much’ look, we all know how much you wanna fuck me.” 48 ”God I am so tired of pretending to hate you.” 49 “Looks like someone likes being pinned down.” 50 “So sue me, you have a nice ass.” 51 “You’ve got such a handsome smile. Who knows what else that mouth can do?” 52 “I’m not saving your sorry ass next time.” 53 “This is not your mission!” 54 “This better be on my overtime.” 55 “Let’s put the paint down, okay? I just got this stuff polished!” 56 “Couples therapy? We’re not even together!” 57 “If they don’t shut up soon just shoot me.” 58 “There’s a reason I never take the helmet off around you people.” 59 “This is definitely safe. I promise.” 60 “Touch them and it’s my boot you’ll have up your ass.” 61 “So, I don’t mean to alarm anyone, but I lost the spider.” 62 “You’re planning something aren’t you. You’re never this nice to me!” 63 “War criminals? Please, we’ve done worse than that.” 64 “I’ll miss you, dumbass.” 65 “Here, give me your hands.” 66 “It’s simple, I’ll show you.” 67 “And this is why we all need therapy.” 68 “If this is a dream I’m gonna kill you in the morning.” 69 “Keeping secrets, are we?” 70 “Deep breaths, okay? Look at me.” 71 “What do mean they’re not coming?” 72 “I think I should get the big gun this time.” 73 “Yeah, I had a feeling you didn’t get laid much.” 74 “This is a terrible plan. I’m in.” 75 “Come baaack, I’m cold nowww.”

[butwhyduh]

The Farm

Damian Wayne x Jon Kent

Summary: just 2 boys in love but won’t admit it. I have the attention span of a butterfly so this is as close as I get to a slow burn lmao. I just think they are adorable and I headcanon Damian as demisexual. I did actually age them above 18 but this is sfw. Only a little kissing. There’s a bigot but he gets punched.

“I heard about the farm,” Damian said as they sat on a rooftop in New York. “Sorry.” They were drinking milkshakes after saving the city. Well Jon was as Damian had a vegan smoothie instead.

“Yeah, they foreclosed,” Jon said, his bright blue eyes uncharacteristically stony. “Thanks. Just wasn’t expecting it is all.”

“You know I could help you.. financially. If you need,” Damian offered carefully. Jon shifted in his seat and took a drink of his shake.

“It’s not your job. I’ll figure out how to keep it. Don’t worry,” Jon said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Congrats on vet school. Not that it’s a surprise. You were top of your class.”

“Oh thanks. But seriously, I have no problem writing a check right now, Jon,” Damian emphasized. Jon stared at him silently. It was so tempting to let Damian solve his problems but that wasn’t the Kent way.

“I don’t know,” Jon said shifting uncomfortably. Damian noted that it wasn’t a no.

“I will be going to school in Metropolis in the fall. The farm in Smallville is a lot closer to the university than my place in Gotham,” Damian said hoping to come off as casual. Apparently not as Jon almost fell off the roof in shock.

“Live- with me,” he asked, his eyebrows rose quickly.

“Oh, I suppose. Yes, that is what I would be proposing,” Damian answered. Jon looked at him with wide eyes before clearing his throat and softening the look on his face to more neutral. Damian definitely wasn’t meaning ‘moving in’ moving in. He was just being practical. He wasn’t in love with Jon the same way Jon was head over heels for Damian since he was like 13.

“It would be practical for us both,” he said and Jon relaxed. Yep, normal Damian not thinking of the social meaning of his words.

“I don’t have a butler,” Jon warned. “And I sometimes forget to do laundry or dishes.”

“Then I will make a chore chart,” Damian answered and Jon’s heart soared a little at the domestics of it all. Jon nodded with a grin.

“So when do I get my roommate?” Jon asked lightly. Or what he hoped was lightly. His farm was saved and Damian was moving in. He was surprised he wasn’t levitating yet.

“I need to sell my apartment first. And pack,” Damian contemplated. “Also I need to buy the farm. I’ll need 4 days.”

“4?!? I mean- that’s fine,” Jon answered. He began immediately imagining all the work he needed to do before Damian could move in. “You work fast.”

“Yes, money talks,” Damian answered as if it was normal for a 20 year old to say. Jon nodded and resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

True to his words, a moving truck showed up 4 days later. Jon had cleaned and organized everything, even scrubbing the walls and sweeping the barn. The workers quickly set up everything in the spare room just as Damian arrived.

Damian arriving was a sight Jon would never forget. Damian wore a black turtleneck with the sleeves rolled up and a tan pair of dress pants over shiny black leather shoes as he carried in a large paper bag of produce. Damian had grown so much from the tiny 13 year old Jon had first known. He was now a full inch taller than Jon and probably 10 lbs heavier. It was funny since Jon was the one currently running around as Superman.

Damian sat his bag on the kitchen counter and wiped sweat from his brow. Jon was much more casually dressed in old blue jeans and a white t shirt with a rolled up and open red plaid button down over it. An old blue baseball cap was thrown over backwards on his head and little curls stuck out.

“You brought food. You know this is a farm, right?” Jon said with a smile. “We’re kinda known for having food.”

“I brought food to cook tonight,” Damian said trying to be casual. He had actually taken far too long deciding on the perfect food for him and Jon to eat their first night as roommates.

“Are you cooking for me?” Jon said with a pleased smile. The moving company was leaving and it was just the two of them.

“Yes, I thought it would be a good start,” Damian said formally. “No need to be so happy. It’s just dinner.”

“Of course,” Jon said trying to straighten his face. But how could he when Damian was living with him and cooking for him? Impossible task.

Damian busied himself in the small kitchen, looking in every drawer and cabinet. He noted that in the dying evening light, it perfectly captured the sunset. That was something that people paid huge amounts to even glimpse from their place in Gotham and Jon got a 360 view everyday.

“Well I have to feed the animals but I’ll be back soon. Do you need anything before I go?” Jon said in the doorway to the kitchen. He had thrown on a pair of rubber boots.

“Tt, you dare care for animals without me?” Damian said with a frown.

“Well I just thought- I mean you can- but you’re cooking,” Jon sputtered and Damian smiled.

“I’m playing with you. I’ll see them tomorrow. Otherwise the meal will be ruined,” Damian said. Jon laughed and shook his head as he left.

Damian looked at the photos that lined the hallway, smiling as he saw pictures of Jon as a child. Jon holding a fish he caught. Jon swinging a baseball bat. Jon holding up one end of a tractor. Right above it was a young Clark Kent doing the same. Damian shook his head with a little smile. He would never admit it but he was head over heels for Jon. Had been for a few years now.

“That’s the first time I lifted a tractor,” Jon said beside him. “Dad was so proud.”

“I imagine,” Damian answered. Clark was such a sore subject for Jon. His father had only been presumed dead the year before. Jon took it hard. He didn’t speak but watched Jon from the corner of his eyes.

“He never wanted to force me to be Superboy. I practically begged him. He was scared it was too dangerous,” Jon said with a sad smile. They both walked in the kitchen and Damian finished the food. Damian brought it to the table just as Jon shyly brought out a bottle of wine.

“Mr Kent, where did you get that?” Damian said with a little smile.

“Actually there’s an entire wine cellar full of the good stuff. Your father is quite fond of giving wine as a gift and Dad never liked to drink. So he stored it here,” Jon said pulling out a wine opener. “I thought we could drink it for him.”

“That’s very illegal,” Damian said expertly opening the bottle. “We’re both technically underage.”

“Anything is legal with enough money,” Jon said with a little grin and Damian laughed.

I’m an awful influence,” Damian replied. They spend the rest of the night eating and drinking wine before both crashing in their separate rooms in the early morning.

Jon crawled out of bed only a few hours later to feed the animals and get started on his day. He thanked his Kryptonian DNA for the lack of hang over he worried Damian would have. He crept quietly past his roommate’s door on his way out.

Jon returned a few hours later, still rather early, and was surprised by the smell of coffee. Damian was cooking breakfast for him. For them, Jon reminded himself. Damian was just his roommate. Damian nodded and poured Jon a cup of coffee.

“I thought you would still be asleep,” Jon admitted.

“I don’t require much sleep. Plus I want a tour of the property,” he said. Practical Damian as always, Jon thought.

“Sure, I’ll take you around. The farm and then town,” Jon added taking a huge plate of scrambled tofu and fried tomatoes. Damian had anticipated that.

“That’s a good plan. I don’t want to stand out in town. Should I wear a plaid shirt,” Damian asked.

“Uh, yeah. If you want. T shirts and jeans are fine too,” Jon said.

“May i borough these clothing from you? Mine are not appropriate for a farm,” Damian said casually and Jon willed himself to not have any emotion that Damian was going to wear his clothing.

Damian was extremely handsome in Jon’s plaid shirt and a pair of jeans. His bright green eyes and tan skin popped in the shirt and he had brushed his black hair neatly back as it had gotten long enough to fall in his eyes. Jon couldn’t help but stare at his Damian in his clothing. Logic be damned.

“What?” Damian asked looking at himself. “Does it look bad? I don’t want to appear foolish,” he said about to pull off the plaid shirt.

“No! No you look good. Nice,” Jon said and Damian’s lip twitched towards a smile.

“Thank you. Would you like to show me town first? Before we get muddy,” Damian said.

“Sure, that sounds good. I need to pick up feed anyways,” Jon said. They loaded into Jon’s old pickup. Krypto hopped into Damian’s lap as if he always had done it and they set off to town a few miles away.

“Here’s the library and the best Waffle House in Kansas. Second only to Ma Kent’s,” Jon said as they drove around. He showed Damian all the important sights in town. Damian had a hard time believing that everything was so compact and so small. Even the diner that Jon said they would eat lunch because they had the best pie short of Ma Kent.

They both, and Krypto, got out at the feed store and they treated Jon like old friends. He grabbed a basket and pushed it to the back as he chatted about all the interesting animals people owned to Damian. The Ferguson’s owned a pair of alpacas and old Skipper Smith had a parrot and monkey as pets.

Jon didn’t pay any attention as he easily lifted 4 50 lb bags of feed and casually put 200 lbs of feed in the basket. Damian looked around to see no one near. Jon did it again.

“Should get us through the week,” he said with a grin.

“You do know that most people don’t pick up 4 at once?” Damian told him quietly as they moved to the register. Jon stopped before nodded and laughing.

“You know I’ve never thought about it. Let’s get going before the diner gets a lunch rush,” he said. Jon tried to act more normal putting up the feed bags but tossing them one handed like bags of bread into the bed of a pick up truck was far from normal. Damian couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

The diner had about 12 booths and a row across the counter like old times. It probably was an older restaurant with the light blue tile and actual jukebox. Damian didn’t know what rush hour could possibly look like with all 7 people he’d seen since entering town but Jon seemed pleased to be earlier than them.

An older lady laid down a menu between them both and offered them coffee with a big grin. Jon ordered a chicken fried steak and Damian ended up getting the waffles. It was the only thing probably vegetarian on the menu.

“Oh shoot, I forgot you don’t eat meat. Sorry. Should I change my order,” Jon said raising his hand.

“No,” Damian said grasping Jon’s hand and pulling it down to the table. Jon’s heart just about beat out of his chest. “It’s fine. You don’t have to change what you eat for me.”

“Okay,” Jon said and the waitress came back to the table with drinks and eyed Damian’s hand on Jon’s.

“This your new partner, Kent,” she asked and Jon noted the judge tone to her voice as she sat down their glasses. Homophobia was still alive in the country. Damian didn’t notice.

“Yes, I just moved in last night,” Damian answered and Jon was frozen in time. Damian doesn’t understand what he means, Jon thought. He can’t.

“Oh, is that right? Took off to the city and brought back a city slicker. Well, each to their own,” she said with a passive aggressive smile. Jon sighed as she walked away. He didn’t know how to explain that to Damian. Was Damian even gay? Too late now. The whole town thought he was.

After eating their meal, Jon asked the waitress for pie to go. The diner had filled up and far too many people were glancing at the pair. Damian assumed it was because he was new in town or possibly they recognized him as a Wayne. Jon knew it was that he had brought home a man. Damian also didn’t quite pass as white with his tan skin and Arabic features so probably a dash of racism too.

Jon drive down to the park at the edge of town and parked by the pond. He put on a nice face but worried that Damian wouldn’t have as easy time in Smallville as Jon hoped.

“Something on your mind, Kent,” Damian said, sitting on the back hatch of the truck watching, the ducks swim.

“Nothing. Maybe I’m a little tired. Should have gone to bed earlier last night,” he said with a laugh. Damian looked at him out the corner of his eye but said nothing and continued eating his pie.

“This pie is made with quality,” Damian said and Jon smiled.

“Better than Alfred’s?”

“Different. Alfred makes amazing meat pies but he never quite understood American pies,” Damian answered. Jon nodded.

“I have to work the rest of the week,” he warned Damian.

“I have plenty of paperwork to keep me busy,” Damian answered. Jon knew he never had to worry about Damian that way. He always kept busy. This was probably his longest break.

The next 3 weeks consisted of getting up early to care for the animals before Jon left to work at the local paper. Damian would jog 3 miles down the dirt road that the Kent farm sat at the end of. By the end of the first week, a few of the neighbors would even wave at him. Jon counted himself as having the will of a Green Lantern to leave before Damian returned every morning. Damian was a sight to behold in his post workout glow pre-shower. He would come home and most of the time Damian was cooking dinner for him. Jon was really falling for the domestics of it all.

“Don’t get used to it, Kent,” Damian warned after Jon complimented an amazing dish Damian made. “Once school starts I can not act as a housewife to you.”

“You aren’t- Dami, you’re far from a housewife,” Jon sputtered. “I know that Flamebird has been seen in metropolis a few times this week alone.”

“Well, I needed to keep busy,” Damian said with a shrug. “Eat your eggplant.”

“I’ve probably eaten more vegetables this week than I have since I would summer with Ma,” Jon said. “But this is pretty good.”

“You’re welcome,” Damian said with a pleased smile. After dinner they sat on the swing on the porch and swung as they watched the sunset like an old married couple. Damian looked at Jon more often than he needed to as they talked about nothing. Jon was so pretty in the golden light. His bright blue eye and freckles looked adorable to Damian.

“And then in August we harvest-“ Jon had been saying before Damian cupped his face and pushed his lips against Jon’s. It was rough and their teeth clanged together and Jon pulled back with an “ow.”

“Shit,” Damian said, moving to get up. “I shouldn’t have- forget I-“

“Wait,” Jon said and Damian froze. He looked so uncertain and Jon had never seen that before. “Can we- can we try again?”

“You don’t have to pity me,” Damian said curtly, getting up. “Forget I did that. I apologize,” he said going inside.

Jon sat for a minute in shock. He had been in love with Damian forever and Damian finally kissed him and he couldn’t even enjoy it. Jon went inside and stood in front of Damian’s door. His hand tentatively considered knocking but Jon couldn’t do it. Just as he turned to walk away, Damian opened his door.

“I have to go to Gotham,” he said suddenly.

“What? If it’s me, you don’t have to leave,” Jon said quickly.

“No. My brothers need me,” Damian said and Jon noticed he had his suit on under his clothing.

“Do I need to come?”

“No. It’s okay. I’ll be back later this week hopefully,” Damian said dashing outside. The screen door swung and slapped the doorframe loudly. Jon ran on the porch.

“Week?” He called as Damian’s car pulled out the drive.

Jon fretted and obsessively watched the news everyday. Krypto was getting anxious without his 3 mile jog every morning. Late on the fourth day after Damian left, Jon heard the front door open. He raced to the door. Damian looked weary and had a slight limp.

“Hi,” Jon said looking Damian over and Damian offered a tired smile. Nothing broken. “Do you need help?”

“No. I need to sleep and I will be fine,” Damian said stubbornly. Jon rolled his eyes and helped him to his bed.

“Do you need anything?”

“No thank you. I will probably sleep late tomorrow,” Damian warned.

“Sure. Of course,” Jon said slowly closing the door as Damian fell asleep. Jon barely slept that night and got up early and called out of work for the day. Damian got up uncharacteristically late around 10 am.

“How are you?” Jon asked, offering him coffee. Damian took the drink before sitting next to Jon. He had a black eye and that limp was still around. The sun shone in bright in the kitchen and Damian was once again reminded the vast difference between smallville and Gotham.

“I’m fine. Thanks,” he said quietly. Jon didn’t want to pounce Damian the first second he got home but it was very hard to not want to talk about the kiss.

“You got mail,” Jon said, handing Damian a big Manila envelope that had come in the day before. Damian wordlessly opened it as he sipped coffee.

“Oh it’s yours,” he handed it over to Jon. Jon opened it with a confused look.

It was a deed. The Kent farm deed. The Kent farm deed in Jon’s name. He looked up at Damian who had a tired half smile.

“It’s in my name. You put it in my name,” he said. “W-why?”

“It’s the Kent farm. There’s too many things with the Wayne name on it,” he shrugged. “Plus I’m far from a farmer. It should be yours.”

“God Damian,” Jon said with tears in his eyes. He pulled Damian into a hug who squawked a protest that Jon ignored. “Thank you. I can’t- thank you,” he said wetly. Damian ignored how Jon was quietly crying on him. His grandma and dad passing had affected him hard and Damian knew he was crying over more than a house and land.

“You’re welcome,” Damian finally whispered and Jon cried even harder. Damian softly pat his back awkwardly. Jon leaned back but didn’t let Damian go. He gazed at Damian with the softest look.

“God Damian,” Jon repeated. “Do you even know how much I love you?”

Damian froze and just blinked at Jon who had pulled back but not out of the hug. “What?” He simply said and Jon’s face started to contort in pain. “Hold on,” Damian said and Jon warily looked at him. Damian knew he had to lean in or Jon would take it back and Damian would be too scared to do anything until Jon did this again. And he wasn’t sure how long Jon would wait.

Damian gently cupped Jon’s face in his hands and Jon breathed in quickly. Damian was clearly nervous. Damian noted how his face was soft and his skin warm. This time he gently bent over and softly pressed his lips against Jon’s. Jon quickly reacted by leaning in toward Damian. Jon could feel the rough pads of Damian’s fingers and taste the coffee Damian had been drinking. After a short while, Damian pulled back but not away.

“I truly care for you too,” he said softly and Jon grinned. “I’ve cared for you for a long time.”

“Same,” Jon said before leaning in to kiss Damian again. Damian kissed for another few seconds before pulling back again. This time Jon tried to follow his lips before stopping. Jon’s breath was erratic and fast. “Sorry,” he muttered.

“No. It’s okay. I’ve just never- I’ve never“ Damian started a bit lost for words. Jon understood what he meant.

“You’ve never been with a man,” Jon said gently.

“I’ve never taken the time for relationships with anyone. I’ve always been too busy,” Damian admitted. He played with the edge of a napkin nervously. He would never openly admit to being worried that his lack of experience was a flaw.

“We can go slow. Whatever you want,” Jon said and he finally looked at Damian the way he had never let himself before: like he was in love with him. Damian nodded.

“I’ve just never found anyone that interesting. I mean, beside you. After a while. I wanted to throw you off a bridge at first,” Damian said and Jon smiled.

“I know. You told me,” Jon said. “We should go out to eat. There’s a place downtown that has vegan options.”

“I didn’t even know there was a downtown here,” Damian admitted and Jon laughed.

“It’s a small town. Not a hut in the woods.”

The place wasn’t ‘rush hour’ packed but had plenty of tables with patrons. Damian and Jon sat at a booth and Damian almost couldn’t handle the lovey way Jon was looking at him. Jon was staring at Damian like he was the moon, even though Damian stood out like a sore thumb in the rural town in his turtleneck and dress slacks. But that was his comfort clothing and he had given up on fitting in long ago.

“I’m going to the restroom. Order for me?” Damian asked and Jon nodded. As Damian walked towards the back of the restaurant, a man in a brown jacket and rubber boots purposefully shoved Damian with his shoulder as he walked by. Damian turned to glare at him.

“Sorry, didn’t see any fruitcakes around here,” the guy said and Damian bristled. Before he could make a scene, Jon moved over to them.

“Hi Tyler. Do we have a problem here?” Jon said uncharacteristically cold. That guy didn’t realize that he picked the worst pair to insult. Tyler looked between Damian and Jon before deciding the fight wasn’t worth it.

“Nothing worth it,” Tyler said turning around. “Bad enough to bring a fruitcake to town, it had to a brown one too,” he muttered and Damian stiffened. He knew that he got looks when he went into town. He was probably the only person that spoke more than English or Spanish in town and certainly the only one to speak Arabic.

But before Damian could do anything else but feel disgust, Jon had punched the guy in the face. Well it was more of a flick with his fist but the guy went down like a rock. Damian hid his smile as him and Jon were hurried out of the restaurant with their food to go by a worried waitress who apologized to the pair.

As they walked back to the pickup truck, Damian reached out and grabbed Jon’s hand who lit up almost instantly. Damian ignored the butterflies in his stomach as he walked. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Jon either.

“You know, it’s not everyday that a guy gets Superman to defend his honor,” Damian said quietly but playfully and Jon laughed.

“Can’t handle bigots. I’ll let you punch the next one,” Jon said with a shrug.

“I would have punched that one,” Damian answered. He turned and pulled Jon to face him before taking his free hand that wasn’t carrying a bag. Damian gently cupped Jon’s face to place a kiss on Jon’s lips before going back to walking. Jon had a stupid smile all the way back home.