#i don’t think my neighbour even moved? i was like sir do you want your animals to escape

[fingertipsmp3]

Does anyone else have a neighbour whose animals are constantly getting loose or is this man just a fucking moron

[penny00dreadful]

Before He Cheats

AO3

“Munson Home for the Recently Deceased, you stab ‘em we slab ‘em. How may I direct your call?”

There was silence on the other end of the line for a few seconds before a light chuckle crackled through the speaker.

“Is that really how you answer the phone?”

Eddie smiled to himself. “Got you to laugh didn’t it?”

“Suppose.”

“Plus, no one calls the landline anymore unless they’re trying to sell something. You trying to sell me something?”

“No. No, I uh… I’m looking for an Eddie Munson?”

“Only an Eddie Munson? Only one? What a terrible fate. Well you’re in luck, my good sir. This is he. What can I do you for?”

The voice on the end of the line gave a light laugh once again but went silent almost immediately after. 

Eddie stared at the wall in his apartment, waiting for something to happen. In the quiet he could hear the guy letting out little nervous breaths before one big inhale.

“I um. I’m sorry to have to tell you like this, I’d prefer to do it face to face but I don’t know where you live and you probably wouldn’t even want me at your house afterwards and I did find you on social media but it’s not something I wanted to do in DM’s, you deserve better than that-”

“Okay, hold on, slow down.” Eddie tried to ignore the panic starting to kick around in his heart. “Is someone dead? Is someone injured?”

“No! No, Jesus, I’m sorry. I told Robin that I’d be terrible at this but I couldn’t just let it go on without saying anything-”

“You haven’t really said anything. You’re just rambling.”

“Right. Sorry. Again, blame Robin. I’m around her too much. But… okay. Do you know Rick Lipton?”

Eddie felt the panic leave him, replaced only by irritation as he sighed through his nose. “What did he do now?”

“He… um. I’m sorry to ask this but are you his partner? Like, romantic partner?”

Eddie scowled. “And if I am?”

There was movement against the line, almost as if the other guy was nodding. 

“Shit.” He muttered before picking back up in volume again. “Listen, I didn’t know. He told me he was single and I only found out because Robin lives in the same building as you and she saw him with you and asked the neighbours and they said you’d been a thing for like two years and you have to believe me if I’d known I wouldn’t have touched him, I don’t fuck around with cheaters-”

“How long?”

Eddie had expected to feel betrayal or sadness, devastation or heartbreak and they were there. 

They were just lost under a tidal wave of anger and indignation. He was even surprised at himself that he didn’t feel more caught off guard. 

Rick had never cheated before (that Eddie was aware of) but he had always had a wandering eye and a few off-colour jokes about 'going to find someone more his speed’. 

They’d never really felt all that funny.

Maybe it was because their relationship had felt dead for the last few months. 

They barely talked, they just existed around each other. The sex had all but dried up as well and whenever they did have it, it was completely impersonal. Get in, get out, move back to separate parts of the apartment if either of them even bothered to stay over. 

More often than not one of them would make a quick exit back to their home.

Eddie had been thinking a breakup was on the horizon for a while. 

But that was no excuse to cheat. 

At least have the fucking decency to end the relationship first before going out and chasing tail. 

“Um, like four or five weeks." The guy on the phone muttered, clearly ashamed. "I’m so sorry Eddie, I swear to god if I knew I would never… I have- I have proof if you need it.”

“If it’s a sex tape I don’t think I want to see it.” Eddie was trying really hard to maintain his calm and not snap through the phone. 

If what the guy was saying was true, then he was an innocent party in this.

Didn’t make it hurt any fucking less though.

Didn’t make him any less pissed.

“If- no it’s not a sex tape.” The voice sounded scandalised. “Fucking hell, do people actually do that?”

“Yes.”

There was a pause, as though the guy was waiting for Eddie to continue but Eddie just let it hang in the air. He wasn’t ashamed. 

But he was definitely going to have to purge those files now.

“Okay well… It's just a photo. I posted it to my insta a week ago but he was really weird about it being up, which in hindsight makes a lot of sense, so I took it down.” He said, quiet and sad. “I can send it to you if you want.”

Eddie pursed his lips. 

“Please hold.”

He unceremoniously dropped the phone with a clatter, leaving it dangling from the cord, bouncing against the wall and probably blowing the guy’s ear out. 

Maybe in the morning Eddie would feel a little bad about that, but for now it just felt very satisfying. 

He rifled around in his bedsheets for his phone before making his way back to the landline. 

“Still there?”

“Yes. Ow, by the way.”

Eddie just shrugged, well aware the guy couldn’t see him but whatever. He wasn’t in the mood. 

“Send it on.”

Only a moment later his phone pinged with a notification and Eddie opened the photo.

Well. 

Shit. 

There was Rick, in amongst a crowd at some nightclub, plastered to the side of some pretty boy who looked like he had a regular workout routine. 

Ugh.

Eddie couldn’t handle gym bunnies, the amount they could bench or whatever was all they ever talked about. But this must be the guy on the other end of the phone. 

@King.Steve.Of.House.Hair

Rick had King Steve’s earlobe in between his teeth and from the angle of the selfie Eddie could see his hands were wandering.

It looked like some kind of Halloween night, if the teeny tiny little sailor outfit was anything to go by.

God damn.

But even so, Eddie still wanted to be sure that what he was seeing was… well. What he was seeing. 

“Steve, is it?”

“Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry, I didn’t realise I hadn’t given you my name yet.” Steve let out a nervous laugh, like he was expecting Eddie to jump through the phone and strangle him.

Eddie was fit to strangle someone but Steve wasn’t in his crosshairs.

“Don’t worry about it. Tell me, what does Rick have tattooed on his ass?”

“Uh…” Steve paused. “He doesn’t have a tattoo on his ass? Not that I’ve seen anyway. But I can tell you he does have his taint pierced. For some fucking reason.”

Eddie gave a quiet laugh at that, despite the monumentally fucked up situation and the final cracking piece of his heart breaking away. Rick had that piercing by the time Eddie had met him. He insisted he’d gotten it because it was sexy. Eddie was pretty sure he’d just lost a bet.

Eddie was no stranger to intimate piercings himself. He had his frenum done a while back. 

That one he’d definitely done because it felt sexy.

He looked back down at his phone, idly flipping through Steve’s profile and all of his other photos. 

He probably shouldn’t be thinking about how hot Steve was, how it was juxtaposed with a soft cuteness that almost felt like it didn’t belong to someone with such broad shoulders and defined arms. 

He hated himself for thinking about Steve’s attractiveness. 

It felt wrong.

Even though he was pretty much single now.

Even if Rick didn’t know it yet. 

But fuck him. 

He’d find out.

One way or the other.

And Eddie was nothing if not a drama queen.

But he wouldn’t do anything tonight.

No tonight he would just… hurt.

And smoke.

A lot.

“Eddie?” Steve’s voice came through to him. “You okay?”

Eddie swallowed, finding it a little more difficult than he expected it to be and realised he’d just been staring down at his phone in silence. 

The screen had gone black.

“Yeah.” He answered, his voice thick. “I’m fine.”

Steve hummed. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Eddie laughed. It was wet and sniffly and vulnerable and horrible. “What are you gonna do from over the phone far away… wherever you are?”

“I dunno. I could just… talk to you I guess? Help you plot Rick's murder?”

Eddie laughed again, a little brighter this time. "Yeah, that could be good. But if I'm plotting murder I want to be a little more comfortable." He unlocked his phone and hit the follow button on Steve’s account. “This conversation requires lounging, not standing by the landline.”

“Oh-”

“How do you feel about a video call?”

A notification popped up on his phone, letting him know Steve had followed him back.

“A video call is fine.”

“Great.” Eddie paused. He wasn’t even sure how to end this call with the guy his boyfriend of two years had been cheating on him with and who he’d just asked if he wanted to video call so Eddie could smoke his feelings away. 

He just didn’t want to feel alone right now. 

He could have called Chrissy or one of the boys to come hang out with him but that would require explaining everything over again and he really didn’t want to do that right now. 

Before he could think much more on it Eddie said a quick “Okay bye,” and hung up.

Steve knew the story and Steve had been wronged too and maybe they could just be mad and sad together. 

He unlocked his phone again as he walked back into his bedroom and hit the video call button, not even bothering to turn his light on, leaving himself and his room shrouded in darkness. He propped his phone up on his desk, angled towards the window where he sat on the sil and started to roll, using the streetlights streaming in the window to see.

Steve picked up only a moment later and Eddie got his first good look at the guy live in action and not through a photo online.

He was sitting at what looked like a kitchen table fully lit by the overhead lights, a pair of wire framed glasses perched on his nose and his hair messy and dishevelled, like he’d been stressfully running his hands through it, which he probably had been. 

Eddie didn’t know how stressed he would be if he had to make a call to someone to tell them their long term partner had been cheating.

He was leaning forward, elbows on the table in a cosy yellow sweater with a slight worry between his eyebrows. 

He looked so soft. 

Nothing at all like the nautical sea queen look he’d been giving in those photos. He looked comfortable and gentle and a little worried.

“Eddie?”

“Mm-hm?” He hummed, bringing the joint to his mouth and lighting it up before pushing open the window a little more and exhaling out into the dark rainfall outside.

“You okay?”

He shrugged. “I will be.”

“I’m not asking about whether you will be, I‘m asking about now.”

Eddie looked over and watched Steve as Steve watched him through the screen.

“Alright, then no. I’m not okay.” He took another drag. “I’m fucking pissed. I’m sad, I’m upset, I’m hurt, I’m angry, I’m disappointed and I don’t know if all of that is directed more at him for doing this to me or me for not expecting it.”

“How were you supposed to expect it?” Steve shook his head in disbelief. “No one should have to expect to be cheated on.”

“Dunno.” Eddie shrugged, looking back out the window. “Relationship was dying anyway.”

“Okay, and? That doesn’t make cheating okay.”

“Suppose not.”

“I’m sorry, for what it’s worth. For my part in it.”

Eddie glanced back over, taking in the downward tilt of Steve’s mouth and his big sad eyes.

“S’not your fault. You were wronged too.”

“I guess, but…” Steve bit his lip and looked up from the screen, casting his eyes around his kitchen like something was going to pop out and answer whatever question was running through his head. 

Eddie waited. The guy had been very gracious so far and he seemed to genuinely feel bad for all the mess he’d been wrapped up in. 

“I…” Steve continued. “I know how this thing usually goes. You find out you’ve been cheated on and you still love your partner so you tend to focus all your anger towards the person they cheated with rather than the person who actually wronged you.” He looked down, fiddling with some kind of flash card on the table in front of him.

“Sounds like you’re speaking from experience.” Eddie stubbed his joint out, happy enough with his current buzz. He was sufficiently mellowed, he hadn’t cried yet though that would probably come once he was in bed, but his anger had simmered down to a level where he didn’t feel like putting his fist through a wall but still angry enough to plot.

“I am, I guess.”

Eddie nodded. “This happened to you before?” 

That was probably rude. His filter malfunctioned at the best of times but when he smoked it was all but gone.

“Yeah.” Steve stared down at the cards in his hands. “My mom had to put up with my dad’s infidelity a lot. And my ex-girlfriend cheated on me a while back.” Steve paused before taking a deep breath. “Rick was actually my first attempt to get back into the dating world so…”

“So we can both be sad and angry together.”

“Yeah.” Steve smiled and Eddie stood up, plucking his phone from his desk and settling it on his bedside table, switching his lamp on and throwing himself face down on his bed, probably barely visible to Steve.

“We can be sad and angry together.”

Eddie glanced up. Now that he was closer to his phone, he could better see exactly what Steve was fiddling with, he could read some of the text on the card.

“Stevie.” Eddie sat up, moving closer to the phone and unable to stop the smirk running over his face. Steve’s eyes snapped up towards him. “Did you write out flash cards for when you called me?”

Steve’s eyes widened before he unceremoniously swept all the cards off the table in front of him, his cheeks turning a terrific shade of red and he leaned his face on his hand, trying to act as nonchalant as possible. 

“No.”

It was adorable. Incredibly dorky and adorable.

Eddie laughed, full on braying belly laughs, collapsing backwards onto his bed. When he peeked back up to look at his phone through his giggles, Steve’s face was somehow even redder. 

“Oh my god.” Eddie breathed. “That’s darling.”

“Shut up.”

“No, no. It’s really very sweet.”

“Ugh. Whatever.” Steve rolled his eyes but was still smiling, still had a blush lighting up his cheeks.

Eddie settled himself back against his headboard. “Actually, listen, let me ask you something.”

“Okay?”

“Does Rick know? Does he know that you know? Or that you told me?”

“No.” Steve answered, finally relaxing his fake nonchalance into real relaxation, folding his hands on the table and propping his chin up on them. “I figured if anyone had the right to rip his balls off it would be you.”

Eddie nodded. 

That he could understand. 

“I get that, but there’ll be no ball ripping from where I stand. No, I want to hit him where it hurts.”

“Woulda hurt me plenty.”

“Oh, I’m sure. But the only thing Rick loves more than his own balls is his car.”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, he’s like, obsessed with that thing. It’s weird. It’s not even that nice of a car.”

“I’d love to say he has bad taste but considering he picked the both of us, I’m pretty sure his tastes are actually immaculate.”

“Just his decisions are bad.”

“Exactly.”

“Well.” Steve sighed. “I’d love to help any way I can. I hate that I was involved in this, in what he did to you.”

“To us, Stevie. To us.”

“Right, so what’s the plan then?”

“When are you due to see him next?”

Eddie pulled his van into the parking lot of the bar. It was halfway across town and a place that he never frequented if he could help it. Rick liked it though, always had. Eddie just liked other places around town more.

But it could be cute, he supposed. A small little country and sports type place that had a rainbow flag behind the bar and a small number of regulars who, according to Steve, wouldn’t do anything unless you got between them and their drink. 

He knew that Steve was inside with Rick, playing up the flirty angle and acting tipsier than he actually was to put him at ease.

Steve had mentioned one of his signature moves involved pool, bending over the table and wiggling a little bit to keep the attention on him. Pulling out a little pout whenever he missed a shot or asking for help to line up his cue.

Eddie would be more upset by the fact that he was missing the sight of it if he didn't know he'd have the opportunity to see it himself at some point in the future.

They had talked for so long that first night, long enough that the sun was starting to come up by the time they'd both dragged themselves away from their phones to sleep.

They’d talked about their families, their friends, what they were doing in life right now as opposed to what they had hoped they would be doing when they were teenagers. They talked about their school selves and their dating lives and as the conversation wore on Eddie found himself thinking again and again about how long it had been since it had felt so easy to talk to someone like that.

It had been a very long time since Rick had put any effort into getting to know him as he grew through their two years together, like he expected Eddie to stay the same person as he was at the start of the relationship.

After that first night where they’d figured out their master plan, he and Steve had just… kept talking. Throughout the rest of the week up until tonight, they were in almost constant contact, only really taking a break to sleep and work.

Eddie felt connected to Steve and in some roundabout way he was thankful to Rick for bringing him into his life.

He’d even met Robin in passing one day, living two floors below him, holding the door open for him as he tried to wrestle with grocery bags. 

She was so weird. He kind of loved her the second she opened her mouth. Honest, but with the sharpest tongue he’d ever met on a person. 

She had knocked on his apartment door later that evening to tell him Steve was calling over to visit and asking if he wanted to come around to meet him. 

Steve had apparently delegated the asking to her because he was too nervous to do it himself.

Again, adorable.

Steve was somehow even sweeter and even saltier in person than he was over the phone and Eddie tried hard, he tried really hard not to look too much or let his fucking horomones run away with him but Jesus. H. Christ it was difficult. 

The sweetness of his soft sweaters and polos, his gentle smiles and understanding words matched with his salty mean girl attitude that would slip out every so often and the bitchiest of eye rolls that made Eddie’s heart jump.

Eddie was also trying to feel bad about what was happening but honestly, he was losing reasons to care that much.

He hadn’t texted or called Rick once in the last week and Rick himself had never reached out which all at once made Eddie realise he was the primary communicator in the relationship and it hadn’t been reciprocated in a long, long time. 

Adding onto that was the knowledge that Rick was still fucking cheating on him and was in regular contact with Steve left Eddie only half heartedly feeling bad.

He and Steve would go over the screenshots of the conversation together every night and every night Eddie found it harder and harder to hang up the phone.

He was pretty sure Steve was feeling the same way. 

They kept just catching each other staring. Or smiling or, pulling back from touching too much and he was almost sure that as soon as Rick was out of the picture for the both of them, something was going to blossom.

Even now, with Steve inside, flirting up a storm with Eddie’s ex-boyfriend who didn’t know he was an ex yet, they would be ending the night together. 

Robin was waiting back at her apartment with an alibi ready if Eddie needed it though he suspected he wouldn’t.

Neither he nor Rick had a great track record with the police and it would be more trouble than it was worth to get them involved.

Speaking of, Eddie spotted Rick’s car, some souped up four wheel drive monstrosity of small dick syndrome sitting in the shadows and away from the cameras of the bar where Steve had convinced him to park with a suggestion of something happening in those shadows later on. 

He hopped out of his van and threw open the back doors, grabbing his bag of goodies before sidling around Rick’s car to wait.

When the chords of some Shania Twain number started to leak through the walls, the signal he’d been waiting for, the sound loud enough to drown out what Eddie would be doing, he dropped his bag to the floor.

Curling his keys into his fingers and with almost a skip in his step Eddie began to carve a stripe through the immaculate and expensive paint work. Working his way around to the drivers side, he lifted the key up before bringing it back down.

With a little bit of sickening glee, he hacked the word CHEATER into the side of the car, the side that would be immediately visible from the bar door and the side Rick would have to see every time he wanted to get in and get out of the driver's seat.

At least until he paid a bomb to get it fixed.

Eddie had connections in this town. Working as a mechanic here for years would do wonderful things to extend this pain. 

Rick knew fuck all about cars. 

Tucking his keys back into his pocket, he sidled back around to his duffel bag, unzipping it and pulling out his Stanley blade.

Unsheathing it, he gripped it tight in his hand and punched it down into the nearest tyre, listening with satisfaction as the thing slowly deflated before moving onto the other three.

A second Shania song had started up. 

He could hear Steve crooning out from inside, getting louder and Eddie knew he was running out of time. 

He pulled Steve’s baseball bat from the duffle and gave it a little twirl, the same one he’d seen Steve do when he’d first handed it off and he had tried so hard not to be attracted to it. 

He’d failed miserably. 

Maybe Eddie could deal with a gym bunny if that gym bunny was Steve.

With an almighty swing, he brought the bat down, shattering one of the headlights with an almighty crash that wasn’t quite drowned out by the karaoke inside.

Rearing back Eddie swung again, smashing the other headlight and while the music didn’t cut off, he could clearly hear Steve inside calling out for Rick to “Wait!”

Okay, only a few seconds left.

Pulling the bat back and letting the anger and betrayal and indignation flow through him, he brought the bat down hard into the windshield where it embedded itself, the spider cracks of the tempered glass making the thing practically opaque.

The bat was fucking stuck.

Eddie knew that if he was able to pull hard enough he would be able to release the whole windshield from the car but he didn’t even have the strength in him to budge the bat.

“What the fuck?!”

Eddie slowly released his hands from the bat and turned, looking at Rick standing in the doorway of the bar, his mouth hanging wide open in shock, unable to believe what he was seeing. Steve was standing just behind him, with one hand over Rick’s chest.

To anyone else it would look like a comforting gesture, maybe. A show of support. 

But Eddie could tell the hand was there to hold Rick back if he decided to lunge. 

Both Steve and Rick dragged their gaze over the flat tyres, the word carved into the side, the bat stuck in the windshield.

“Hey sweetheart.” Eddie called across the distance, feeling comfortable enough to turn his back to pick up his bag, trusting Steve to at least shout if Rick was about to tackle him.

“Eddie,” Rick breathed, still open-mouthed somehow. “What in the god damned hell has gotten into you?!”

“I wasn’t talking to you.” He slung the bag over his shoulder and held his hand out.

Steve patted Rick twice on the chest and stepped out from behind him. 

Rick watched him walk away looking even more bewildered than before.

With one hand Steve took Eddie’s and with the other he grabbed the bat, wiggling it a few times before pulling it free. 

They broke apart as they reached Eddie’s van, Steve climbing into the passenger seat and Eddie throwing his bag in the back before starting up the van from his position in the driver's seat.

He leaned over Steve to shout out of the window, “Have a nice life, asshole!”

As the van tore out of the lot, Steve stretched both hands out of the window, two middle fingers extended until Rick, still frozen on the spot, was out of sight.

When he pulled himself back inside, Eddie saw him glance his way, a huge grin on his face.

Eddie had a smile to match, whooping into the night as they sped down the road.

AO3

@geekymagicalpotato

Big thanks as always to @hbyrde36 for her magnificent beta work and to the STWG for their motivation.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Diabolical 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, violence, extreme profanity, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Billy Butcher

Summary: your neighbours has some strange friends.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Down-trodden. That’s a good word to use. One you’d find in a particularly eloquent novel. It’s how you feel. Caught in the rain, missed your connection, and walking six blocks just to get back to your building. Down-trodden, defeated, and deflated. 

You come up to the door of your building, trying to unhook the end of your key from the ring. Before you can get a handle on things, the door flies open and you barely move out of its way. Your keys hit the ground and a dark figure swoops to snatch them up. Not him. 

That man stands, the loud one, the rude one, and jangles your keys. You reach for them and he keeps them just out of your grasp. You frown and rescind your arm. 

“Sir, please--” 

“Well, ain’t you the cat the river washed up,” he snickers. “Look at ya. Down-right sad, ain’t ya? What’s a matter? Did the sun not shine at ya majesty’s order?” 

“Sir,” you snip. “I am not in the mood--” 

“Are ya ever, love?” He chortles again, dangling the keys higher. 

“I’m asking nicely, please, give me my keys.” You make yourself as big as you can but still feel tiny before him. 

“Please and...” he drawls. 

“Thank you,” you try to grab the keys, hopping to snag them, but he manages to evade you. You huff, embarrassed at your own effort. 

“Ain’t that cute. Look much smaller out here without them walls to hide behind, Don’t ya?” He twirls the ring around his finger. 

You look away and frown, “look, I apologise. It was never meant to offend you. I only hoped you might have some consideration and not make so much noise. I was mistaken to think you could care.” 

“Ah, now, you’re gonna make me feel bad,” he taunts. 

You turn to him and shrug. What more can you say or do? His smirk fades just a little and his dark brows draw together. He clears his throat and lowers his hand. 

“’ere ya go then.” He offers them. 

Cautiously you reach out. Your hand closes around them, brushing his fingers, and he lets you have them. Warily, you pull back. 

“Was only playin’,” he winks. “Lookit, I’ll even be a gentleman and hold the door for ya.” He moves out of the way and keeps his hand on the door, “there ya are, proper queen, then.” 

You don’t know if he’s mocking you still or not. More likely he is. You hold your tongue. You just want to be done with today and him. You’re only recourse is to ignore him. It might get him off your back. You can handle a bit of shouting in the hall. 

You step forward and pass him. He looms, bouncing on his heels, and you hurry as you approach the stairs, “eh, never saw ya from behind. Not half bad.” 

He cackles before he lets the door go and it slams at his departure. You cringe. You should have expected something. You carry on up the staircase and keep your head down as you near your apartment. 

You go inside and toss the keys. You drop your bag as you kick off your shoes and traipse around to the kitchen. You put on the kettle and plant your elbows on the counter. 

The buyer didn’t take as much as you negotiated but you couldn’t say no. You had to take what they offered. It’s enough, but you were hoping for more. You did the repair just as they wanted but everyone’s always changing the terms. No one listens to you. Just like that man! You’re tired of feeling so helpless. 

And why does he have to be so crass? Why did he have to humiliate you like that? You dropped your keys and he couldn’t just let you have them. No, he had to make you perform like some puppet. Oh and then he had to be sure you know how nice he is. 

You don’t think you hate him; you just hate how people treat you. You pride yourself on being polite, on being empathetic as best as you can, on making yourself as little as possible so you’re not in the way. The one time you speak up for yourself and it backfires. Well, you won’t be doing that again. 

[canirove]

My neighbour Rúben | Chapter 20

Previous chapter | Last chapter

Masterlist

“Ok, so they both need to win to get what they want?” grandma asked as we looked for our seats at the Etihad.

“Exactly, love” grandad said. “We need to win to be in the Champions League next year, and they need it to win the title.”

“Have you decided who you are supporting?” grandma asked me once we had sat down.

“No one. Let the best team win” I said.

Lucy and Julia were both wearing City shirts (Lucy Rodri’s, and Julia Rúben’s). Grandad was also wearing his Arsenal shirt, and grandma had bought herself a scarf with both teams on it. I, was wearing nothing.

“You are so boring” Lucy chuckled.

“Oh, there is Aaron” grandad said when the goalkeepers went out to start their warm-up. “Aaron!” he called.

Somehow he heard him, turning around and waving at us. 

“Such a lovely lad” grandad smiled. “Sad that things didn’t work out between you two.”

“Yeah…” I said, starting to feel my cheeks get warm.

“But she has her hot neighbour now, don’t you, sweetie?” grandma said, elbowing me on the ribs. “If they lose today, he’ll probably need a hug.”

“Grandma!”

“Oh, I love this woman” Lucy laughed. 

“You will also have to give a big hug to your boyfriend” she told her.

“Boyfriend? Mami, do you have a boyfriend?” Julia asked.

“I… I…” Lucy muttered. She wasn’t ready to tell her anything yet. She wanted to introduce Rodri as just a friend first, let them get to know each other before using the big word.

“Grandma got things wrong, Julia” I intervened. 

“Oh, yes, yes” she quickly said, realizing her mistake. “I was talking about her boyfriend” she said, looking at me. 

“I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Yes, you do!” Julia said. “Rúben is your boyfriend, he said it! I saw you kissing like Anna and Kristoff do.”

“Anna and Kristoff?” grandad asked. “Who are those? Friends of yours?”

“You kissed?” grandma said, raising her voice.

“I… I…” Now I was the one freaking out. This whole weekend was going so wrong… “Look, the Arsenal players are coming out” I said, pointing at the pitch.

“Don’t change the subject. Is Rúben your boyfriend, yes or no?” grandma said, getting serious.

“Can’t we discuss this later?”

“No, we cannot.”

“I need to go to the bathroom” I said, getting up from my seat. But the moment I did, the City players decided to come out to start their warm-up, making everyone else around us also get up from their seats to cheer for them. I tried to walk past them, to push them aside, but I wasn’t able to. The stadium was packed since the game was basically a final.

“Excuse me” I said, the feeling I had when I was trapped on the lift coming back. “Please, let me through.” But no one was moving. They just kept pushing me from one side to the other. “Sir, please, could you move aside?” I said to one big man in front of me.

“What?” he said. He was huge and I was too close to him, so when he turned around to look at who was talking to him, we bumped into each other, making me trip with another man standing next to me. “Careful!” the first man said. But it was too late.

I was already rolling down the stairs.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“What happened?”

“Let her breath!”

“Don’t touch her, she may have broken something.”

“Let me through!” 

Rúben. That last voice was his. Or that was I thought. He sounded so far away…

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“She is waking up.”

“Finally."

“Where… what…” I said. Talking hurt so much. 

“Shh, it’s ok. You are ok” grandma said next to me.

“Water.”

“Here” Rúben said to my other side. I think water had never tasted so good as it did in that moment. Not even after Ben’s party.

“What happened?” I said, trying to slowly open my eyes. The light was so bright…

“Don't you remember anything?” grandma asked me.

“I… It’s confusing.”

“You fell down the stairs at the Etihad” she said.

“I did?”

“You did. And you scared the hell out of all of us” Rúben said.

“Your game… What happened? Who won?”

“That doesn’t matter now. What matters is that you are ok” he said, holding my hand.

“But I want to know. If you are here…”

“I played and we lost” he said after a few seconds in silence. 

“I’m so sorry, Rúben. It was all my fault, I…”

“Actually, it was Aaron’s fault” he said. “He played the best game of his career, and they won 0-1 after John made a mistake.”

“So you… You played well?”

“According to your grandfather, he did, yes. So don’t blame yourself, ok?” grandma said, holding my other hand, one that was covered by a bandage.

“Where is he? And Lucy? Julia? Oh my God, Julia.”

“They all are back home. Julia was a bit shaken at first, but once they told us you were ok and the game started, she calmed down.”

“And I heard Rodri and her already are bffs” Rúben smiled.

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” 

“And now, you must rest” grandma said. “Try to sleep a bit more while the drugs are still working.”

“We’ll stay here, right next to you” Rúben said.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

A couple of days later, I was finally able to go home.

“Rúben, I can walk. You don’t need to carry me.”

“I know, but I want to do it. You are princess Anna and I must treat you as such.”

“Fine” I said, kissing his cheek as the lift’s doors opened. “Wait, why are we going to your place?”

“Because I am your nurse. You are staying with me” he said, looking for his key while still carrying me.

“I thought my grandparents were staying.”

“That’s what they wanted to do, but I insisted. And I can be very convincing if needed.”

“Oh, please, don’t smile like that.”

“Like what?” he said, finally opening his door.

“Like that, with the smirk. You know what that smile does to me and we can’t do anything naughty when my hand is like this and I’m covered in bruises.”

“Naughty” he laughed while putting me down on his sofa.

“Your favourite word.”

“My favourite word. But I can wait until you’ve recovered.”

“The one who can’t wait is yours truly” I said while he moved some pillows to make me feel more comfortable. As if that sofa wasn’t the most comfortable one in the world on its own.

“You’ll have to be strong, love.”

“I can’t be strong if you keep smirking like that, you little piece of shit” I said, pointing at him with my bad hand.

“Ok, I’ll try not to do it” he said, caressing my hair and looking at me the same way he did the other night when I met Rodri.

“Penny for your thoughts?” I asked.

“I love you.”

“I’m sorry you what?” It must have been the drugs they gave me. They were making me hallucinate.

“I love you” Rúben repeated. “And it’s ok if you are not ready to say it back, I don’t mind.”

“I…”

“Try to have some sleep, ok?” he said, kissing my forehead. “I’m gonna call your grandma and tell her we are home.”

“Ok…” I muttered, my eyes following him until he disappeared through the corridor. Rúben loved me. He had said it. Twice.

He loved me.

[kleftiko]

❦ OUR BITTERSWEET MOMENT PT. 2

cw: mature, fem!reader, angst

part 2 (dedicated to @cherriesx cause they just GET this)

PART 1 | PART 3

you’re home from a case.

“this calls for drinks!” rossi smiles. “on me.”

“can’t say no to that.” morgan agrees, followed by emily’s “count me in.”

with the promise of free drinks, the team consents to a laid back night in a bar, and one by one, they all file out to the elevator, waiting for their unit chief to speak.

“one drink.” hotch nods and the team immediately relaxes into off duty mode.

penelope loops your arm in hers, talking about the time she had too much tequila and tried to convince her shoes to be a different colour.

emily drove you two, because you didn’t have a car, and penelope was planning on getting wasted.

and wasted she did get.

her bubbly mood is a contagious disease that tricks you into having drinks in too quick a succession. you know your limits and pace, but all logic of it flies out the window when with garcia.

“i think i’m done for the night.” you told jj when you felt the drinks.

“i’ll take you home.” hotch mentions from the other side of her, already having his coat on.

you’re glad you cut yourself off right before tipsy.

“thank you, sir.” you mumble, grabbing your jacket and saying your goodbyes.

hotch walks you to his car, where the first few minutes of the ride are silent except for you reminding him of your address.

you’re thankful you didn’t do anything stupid, the thought of saying something to your boss while tipsy gave you too much anxiety.

“so how are things at home?” you ask.

“quiet,” he responds, “haley took jack to her sister’s, and i moved into an apartment.”

crap.

you forgot he just got divorced.

you were almost home free without saying anything stupid.

“oh.” you muster. “it’s quiet at my place too…except when my neighbour starts screaming at her son to move out.”

you catch a small smile on hotch’s face through the rearview mirror and let out a silent sigh of relief.

and it’s quiet after that.

he pulls up at the corner of the block and you thank him for the ride.

“i’ll walk you to your door.” he says, unbuckling his seatbelt. “i want to make sure my team members are safe.”

your heart flutters a bit at his words, even though you know this is standard for hotch and he’s walked penelope to her door hundreds of times when she’s been drinking.

“thank you, sir.” you say and lead the way.

not another word is spoken until you reach your front door.

“you don’t have to call me ‘sir’ out of the office.” hotch says as you pull out your keys. you turn away from him to unlock your door, not knowing what to say.

“Y/LN.” he catches your attention, you turn on habit and he’s right in front of you. your eyes are met with his coat until you physically tilt your head. “what’s going on?”

“what do you mean si—what do you mean?” you correct yourself.

his eyes are boring into yours. you find yourself apathetic in this moment. you want to say you blame the alcohol for the thoughts coming to your head. but you know deep down an experienced profiler like hotch would find out something was wrong eventually.

so instead of speaking, you drop your jacket, bag, and keys to the floor without breaking eye contact.

this man’s presence has caused you countless pain simply for the fact that he existed and was not yours.

in this moment you just didn’t care.

you grab the side of his face and pull him into a harsh kiss. you pour everything into it—body melting, lips locking—and you find hotch grabbing at your hips to stabilize you.

his demeanour changes, pushing himself into you, and in turn, you against your door. bodies are flush against one another, and his presence seems to dominate as he takes over in a hunger. enveloping you into him, because even though you initiated, he is kissing you. and you allow this, craving every part of this man just like you have for so long, one hand into his short hair, one to grasp at his coat covered chest.

his grip on your hips turns painful in his desire to have you, his leg slipping between yours as he presses into the one place you need him most. you moan quietly.

and he freezes.

reality seems to hit him like a brick when he comes to, lips detaching in an instant as he stills like stone.

you look up at him in fear to find his jaw clenched, eyes screwed shut, face just in front of yours. his hand comes up from your hip and hits the door behind you with his fist. not enough to scare you, but enough to see that this took a lot of self restraint.

he wanted you too.

and he stopped.

“we can’t do this.” he whispers harshly.

you want to say something—anything—but he releases you and turns around in a second. you register his back fading as he turns a corner and is out of sight.

he leaves you at your front door with a sea of emotions.

desire, guilt, fear, lust.

there’s no telling what would happen on monday.

✧—place an order—✧

[shubaka]

Trope wombo combo! Neighbours/accidental texting! 💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

OOOOHMYGOD. Anyway, because I like to torture myself, I went ahead with challenge mode.

Uhhh, I actually could have gone on longer based on my initial plans with this but you know what? I think 1300 is a good place to stop alskdfjawkejalkw

Anyway, here's hoping this isn't complete and utter garbage (sorry, i'm tired and i haven't gone through to edit this lmao)

-----

Gun is waiting in a poor excuse of a safe house, stretched out casually on the nicest chair in the room.  

It had been a hassle tracking down Lee and even more cumbersome getting here without alerting any of Korn’s men. He would have normally sent Vegas in his place, but this was personal, and he wanted to see the life drain out of the rat’s eyes for himself. 

Fifteen minutes and two cigarettes later, Gun slips out of the building with a curse. Lee must have gotten wind that this location was compromised. 

Gun is tired of these games, but he can’t afford to slip up, not with his brother breathing down his neck. It has been a while since he’s had to do this much leg work, but needs must when the devil drives. 

–

When Yok receives the first text, she leaves it on read. 

It’s from a number she doesn’t recognize, and it simply states, “I know it was you.”

A bit weird for spam texts, but whatever. She has places to be and a bar to run. 

It hasn’t been the same without Porsche around, and her newest bartender needs a little more hand holding, but she believes he’ll catch on after a few more shifts. She can’t wait to let down her hair after she’s done her final check in at the bar tonight. She hasn’t been able to let loose since the last time Porsche brought his work friends to Hum Bar for a night of revelry. 

She deserves her own night of revelry with her friends. 

– 

It’s 7 a.m. when Yok finally comes home after a late night of drinking and dancing. As she climbs out of her taxi, she sees her neighbour step out and lean against his gate. 

They have seen each other a few times and have only nodded to each other in passing. They have never had an actual conversation before – something that she is going to have to change now that she has seen his ascot. 

“Excuse me, sir.” Yok struts up to him and tuts, “I’m sorry, but I can’t in good conscience let you go out in public in that.” 

Her neighbour’s gaze follows her index finger to his neckline. 

“What?” He raises an eyebrow at her. His confidence is entirely too self-assured for Yok’s liking, considering he thought it would be a good idea to pair that particular salmon pink ascot with a russet brown suit. 

“I’m saving your life,” she says, and unties his ascot. She can feel the amusement rolling off of him in waves as she rifles through her purse. “I appreciate your willingness to wear pink, but this teal scarf will look a lot better with your suit.” 

When he makes no move to take the proffered scarf, she takes it upon herself to loop it around his neck, tie it, and tuck the ends into his vest. 

Then with an approving nod, she turns around and walks up to her house. 

She’s exhausted and quite possibly still a little tipsy, but it’s nothing a few hours of sleep won’t fix.

–

Yok wakes up in the middle of the afternoon to several more texts from the mysterious number. 

I didn’t see you at your usual haunt last night.

Don’t think you can hide from me.

Your time is up.

Yok is now feeling a little concerned. She tries to recall if anything particularly strange has happened in the last few weeks, but her mind draws a blank. 

Other than the new hire to replace Porsche, nothing has really changed. 

She hasn’t met anyone new. Sure, there are new people coming to Hum Bar all the time, but she usually doesn’t interact with them unless they are regulars or there’s a good reason to. 

Could it be a stalker? 

How did they even get her number?

Yok wishes Porsche was easier to get in touch with. He was always good in a fight. 

But Yok is resourceful and she can take care of herself. She’ll just have to be extra careful over the next few days. 

–

The next time she sees her neighbour, he’s returning home while she’s on her way out to the bar. 

As soon as they make eye contact, he strolls up to her and pulls out her scarf. It’s been three days since they last met. 

Has he been carrying it around this entire time on the off chance they’d meet?

“Thank you for lending me your scarf, Miss…?”

He’s attractive, and she’s only ever seen him around other men – so there’s a chance he might only be interested in other men – but it’s worth a shot, so she gives him one of her more coy smiles. “You can call me Yok.”  

“And you can call me Gun,” His hands linger on hers for a moment as he places the scarf into her hand. 

A shout of “Khun Gun!” interrupts their moment, and a rough looking fellow runs up to them and bows slightly in apology. “I am sorry to interrupt, but Khun Korn has requested to see you as soon as possible.” 

Gun huffs and tries to hide his scowl behind a smile. “If you’ll excuse me.”

That is certainly an interesting dynamic. Yok thinks of Tankhun and his friends who are clearly bodyguards stuffed into casual wear and wonders. 

–

It’s busier than usual tonight, so Yok finds herself at Hum Bar doing the rounds, making sure everyone looks well taken care of, and making herself available to jump in to help if needed. 

At half past eleven she is surprised to see Gun enter with a small group of men. Among them is a younger well-dressed man she’s seen skulking around a few times, waiting to talk to Porsche on the few occasions he’s visited. 

She overhears him call Gun dad. 

Well, shit. But she doesn’t recall seeing a wedding ring when he returned her scarf.

Her phone buzzes. 

She pulls it out and turns pale. 

She had blocked the previous number, but there’s another text from another number. 

I told you, you can’t hide. 

Her phone indicates that the other person is still typing, but she blocks them and collapses onto a bar stool. 

Gun seems to have finally noticed her, and he’s at her side in seemingly no time at all. 

“What happened? Are you unwell?” He places an arm on her shoulder and waves at someone behind him. A glass of water is placed on the bar counter next to her, and she’s given an encouraging nod to speak.

Yok hesitates for a moment before saying, “I’ve been receiving threatening messages. I don’t know who it is.” Her hands tighten around her phone.  “Even if I block them, they just use another number. I don’t know why this is happening.”

She can see Gun’s jaw clench as his eyebrows furrow. “I can take care of it,” he says slowly, “if you give me your phone.” 

She lifts her phone up between them and unlocks it. 

If she was looking at her phone, she would have missed it. In the few seconds it takes Gun to read the messages she sees flashes of recognition, confusion, and anger swirling in his eyes before they turn calculating. 

“Don’t worry, Ms. Yok, they won’t be bothering you anymore. If you’ll excuse me, I have some business to attend to.” 

Yok watches as Gun walks back to his group and leans in to whisper something into one of the men’s ears. There is a menacing gait to Gun’s walk as he exits the bar, and the rest of the men trail after him. At the end of the line, Gun’s son slings an arm around the shoulders of the man Gun had whispered to, and drags him outside on shaky legs.  

[bonky-n-steeb]

call me when you want (iv)

summary || when you call a sex hotline with a need to be dominated you don’t expect to meet (or hear) someone as wonderful as James. but your life becomes a complicated mess as you already love your coworker, Bucky Barnes. however, you are unaware that they are actually the same person. 

warnings || BDSM, Dom! Bucky Barnes, dom/sub dynamics, spanking, dirty talk, sex toys (butt plug), bondage, blindfold, choking, blowjob, cum licking. SMUT. ANGST. FLUFF. (the holy trinity). MINORS DNI.

I have decided to not do taglists anymore, so if you wished to be notified of my newest updates please follow @bonky-n-steeb-lib and turn on the notifications!

I’m so excited for this… agsisnshhs… I hope you like it ;)

series masterlist

You chewed on your bottom lip and your fingers fidgeted with your nails as the anticipation was killing you. Bucky was standing right besides you on the elevator and you were itching to pull him into a kiss.

But you knew the moment you laid hands on each other, nothing would stop you. Not even the wandering gaze of your neighbours. And you would regret that the next morning; so it was better to wait.

After Bucky had submitted the files to Fury, both of you had sat back in his car and driven to your home. Bucky had decided not to use his house as Steve would be there and he didn’t want his nosey ass.

So that’s where you were; in the elevator of your building. As soon the ding resounded throughout the small cubicle, both of you didn’t wait a minute to get out. You didn’t waste anytime in unlocking the door and entering.

The moment you were in the confines of your home, Bucky pulled you in for a ravishing kiss. Holding your face in his palms, his plump lips pressed against yours.

He licked your lips and you parted them, letting him in. His tongue explored your mouth and you tried to keep up with his pace. Your hands fisted in his jacket as he teasingly bit your lip.

You didn’t even realise when he pressed you against the wall. His hands were all over you; holding your neck one moment and the next squeezing your ass.

His presence was making you heady and high. He stopped kissing your mouth and moved over your neck, sucking and nipping and biting.

“Are you really really sure you want this?” Bucky was breathless and you were somehow proud that you were the reason behind it. “Yeah Bucky. I’ve wanted this for so long.”

“Good. Also you call me sir when we do this. Do you know the traffic light system?” God, Bucky was everything you’d thought he’d be. “Yes. Green for go ahead, yellow for slow down and red for stop. Also, cherry is my safe word.”

Bucky smirked; he knew you knew it all, he just wanted to confirm it. “Good girl.” You couldn’t help but heat up at the praise. “You like being a good girl, don’t you? But then why do you behave like a brat?”

“I’m not the one at fault Bucky.” You jibed back. Within the blink of your eye, Bucky’s metal arm was curled around your throat. And he lightly squeezed it in warning. This man was a guaranteed menace.

“We need to put that mouth of yours to good use, don’t you think?” You just blinked dumbly, the hand around your throat was doing things to you that you couldn’t describe.

His thumb tugged at your lower lip as his eyes stared deeply into you. “Ask me what I’m going to do with you.” His voice was downright delicious and the power he was radiating was enough to make your knees go weak.

When you didn’t reply, he increased the pressure on your throat. It wasn’t anything close to even slightly choking you; but it was enough to take the message across. “I said, ask me what I’m going to do with you.”

“Wha… what are you going to do with me?” His other hand snaked between your thighs and just cupped you there, which was even more frustrating. “I thought you were smarter than that, doll. What are you supposed to call me?”

“S…sir.” You were literally about to burst out of your body with sheer need if he didn’t do anything. Bucky shook his head disappointedly and you didn’t understand why.

“You are supposed to speak in whole sentences not in single words like a dumb little baby.” You would do anything Bucky asked you to. But what was the sentence again? Goddamnit.

“What are you going to do with me, sir.” He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead as a reward. “You’ve been a very bad girl, and for that I need to punish you. So I’m going to spank you and then you’re going to be a good girl and suck me off and then…”

“And then…” you were dripping wet and you thought his words alone would make you cum. “And then I’m going to fuck you as you should be fucked.”

At the next instant, he turned you around and pressed your face against the wall. His fingers took hold of the zipper of your dress in a hurry. “Wait!”

Bucky backed off the moment you screamed. “Wait. This dress is very expensive so please be kind to it. Once I’m out of it, you can you whatever you want with me.” You said looking over the shoulder.

Bucky huffed out a breath and chuckled. “For a whole second you scared me there.” He walked closer to you again, “I’ll never do something you don’t want me to do.” He pressed a very affectionate and tender kiss on your shoulder. “Promise.”

If his dirty words were making your pussy wet; his caring side was making your heart melt. He slowly unzipped your dress and removed it off of you gently.

“Thanks.” You sighed and he hummed behind you. “You’re welcome doll. But this won’t reduce the punishment.” With that he picked you up and you thanked god for his super serum.

He carried you into the bedroom and placed you back on your feet. You had expected him to lower you into the bed, but instead he went and sat on your bed and shucked off his suit.

“Remove your panties and lay on my lap.” He ordered and you followed. If he had removed your panties and made you lay on his lap, it wouldn’t have been as humiliating as you yourself doing the deed. And you got off on the humiliation.

With your eyes locked with Bucky, you slowly undressed yourself and laid down in his lap. You hadn’t yet noticed that he had taken off his tie and belt.

He took you by surprise when he tied your hands together with his belt. And you squeaked loudly when he tied his tie around your eyes like a blindfold. “Are you okay?”

“Yes sir.” You couldn’t wait for this to begin. “Good.” To your surprise he placed you down and you felt the bed lift up as he left. “Where are you going?” You felt panicked fearing he would leave you like this.

Bucky’s hand was instantly on your back and he reassuringly rubbed it. “Shhh. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. Just give me a minute.”

Bucky remembered you’d told him you had bought a butt plug. Where had you kept your toys? Good fucking lord. He started checking the bedside drawers and finally found the bag containing the toys.

He took out the lube and plug and kept the rest back in. Coming up behind you, he once again placed you back on his thighs. “Where did you go?” You heard a click, but you couldn’t decipher what it was.

Bucky coated his fingers with lube. “It’s a surprise doll.” And the next thing you knew, wet, slimy fingers were prodding at your tight hole. “Relax for me baby girl. I’m making it good for you.”

You breathed in a deep breath and sighed. You tried your best to relax as a single finger entered you from behind. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No. No sir don’t stop.” You hadn’t expected it to feel pleasurable, but it was. After you were relaxed with one finger in, Bucky added another. His ministrations were making you wetter by the minute and by now you were sure his pants were wet too.

Bucky made sure that it didn’t hurt and instead made it as pleasurable as possible. He was finally satisfied when he was three fingers in and you gasped when he removed them.

Bucky coated the plug with lube before pressing it against your hole. “Buc… Sir is that..?” You ended the sentence in a filthy moan as the plug filled you.

“Yes, it’s your plug. Didn’t expect you to be such a filthy girl and have all these toys in your house. Are you ready for the punishment baby doll?” You could just helplessly nod. “Yes..” you groaned out. “Count for me.”

Smack.

You jerked ahead in his lap as his hand came down on your ass. A pleasurable sting bloomed across your skin at the contact. Bucky squeezed the ass right where he had hit previously. “Why are you so forgetful?”

The plug was jostled as he spanked you and you literally lost all coherent thoughts. You hadn’t first realised the plugs intent but now you did. Bucky was indeed the filthiest person you’d ever met.

“Wh..what?” You lifted your body up to turn back at Bucky. He placed his other hand between your shoulder blades and pushed you back into the bed and rearranged you on his lap.

“I asked you to count, didn’t I?” Oh fuck, you’d messed up. “I’m sorry sir. I’m so sorry. I’ll be good. I promise.” You relaxed when he rubbed your shoulders. “Shhh. It’s okay. We can start over, but this time don’t miss.”

Smack.

“O..one” you didn’t want to disappoint Bucky and you counted the number religiously. After smacking you, he was rubbing that area to alleviate the pain. And that was moving the plug in you too.

Smack. Smack. Smack.

The continuous spanks falling close by to each other made your eyes roll back. “Two, threeFour.” Your words were slurred as you counted it all together. “Good girl.”

Bucky was unpredictable and you couldn’t exactly guess when he was going to smack you next. And that kept up the whole anticipation of the act.

You were a panting, whining and drooling mess by the time you reached fourteen. Your ass was on fire and you wanted more. And not to mention the plug making you delirious everytime he smacked you.

You were so wrong to think the previous ones were bad, because his next slap landed straight on your plug and you thought you were going to cum right there.

“Ff…fifteen.” You were pliant on his lap by now. “I’m so proud of you doll. You took your punishment so well. I’m so proud of you.”

Bucky pulled you up again and held you gently. He removed the blindfold and your eyes were glassy and a small satisfied smile was spread across your lips. Bucky worried he had gone too far.

“Baby doll, are you there with me? Do you want me to stop.” At the mention of stopping you shook your head. “No sir please no. I… I need more.”

“Yeah? You’re my best girl.” Bucky pulled you in for a kiss and you went eagerly. His lips were much softer than you had thought and you couldn’t believe you were kissing him.

“Are you gonna be a good girl and suck my dick?” Bucky had always fantasised about you on your knees sucking him off. “Yes sir. Please,.. I want it so bad.”

He placed you on your knees and you hissed as your ass connected with the bottom of your feet. You adjusted yourself into a better sitting position and waited for Bucky.

“All this could’ve been avoided if you had been a good girl.” Bucky said sensing your discomfort. He unzipped his pants and just took out his dick.

It was thick and veiny, even better than you had imagined. It was long and you knew it would hit spots you didn’t even know. You salivated at the sight and licked your lips.

You wanted to take it in your hands and feel it, but you couldn’t due to being restrained. Bucky weaved his fingers in your hair and held you steady as he just put the head in your mouth for you to suckle.

Bucky groaned and cursed as you licked his slit with your tongue and sucked on his tip. You gagged as he entered you deeper and he didn’t stop until he was hitting the back of your throat and despite that he was only halfway through.

You moaned around him and he shut his eyes with the pleasure. Unable to control himself any further, he started fucking your hot, wet mouth.

Bucky looked so magnificent; his head was thrown back and his neck was bared as his veins popped up. If you were going to get greeted with this view, then you’d give him a blowjob anytime he wanted.

He wasn’t gentle or caring as he thrusted into you. It was as if he wanted to ruin you and build you back up. As if he wanted to own you and keep you for himself.

Tears were slipping past your eyes and tears tracks were adorning your cheeks and spit dribbled down from your chin. And yet for Bucky you looked the most beautiful with his cock stuffed in your mouth.

His loud grunt was the only preamble you got before he was coming down your throat. You tried swallowing, you honestly did, but it was just too much and it spilt all over your own tits.

You coughed and panted when removed himself. You were about to tumble on the floor, but he caught you before you hit yourself. He pulled you up, back on his lap.

His eyes trailed down to your tits dripping with his cum and without thinking twice, he began licking his own cum off of you seductively. It was honestly the nastiest yet the more arousing thing you had ever seen.

You honestly felt a little disappointed as Bucky came. You wanted him to fuck you, hard and rough. He saw the way you pouted and kissed it away. “Are you sad that I won’t be able to fuck you anymore?”

“Ye.. yeah.” There was no point in lying. “Well, one of the good things the serum did to me was give me practically no refractory period.” When you looked down, he was already hard again.

You practically jumped on him and kissed him as you couldn’t really coordinate with your hands behind your back. The kiss was wet and sloppy and you never wanted it to stop.

“Please..” your breath fell on his lips as you spoke. “Please what doll?” His eyes were dark and only a thin rim of blue was remaining. “I want to see you. Please sir.”

You were literally dying to see Bucky naked. If your hands were free, you would’ve torn his clothes by now. “All you have to do is ask.” He placed you on the bed as he started undressing himself.

You openly gawked at his physique and let your eyes roam. His abs were perfect and a vein ran down his Adonis belt straight to his magnificent dick. God, you wanted to trace it with your tongue so badly.

“You’re so beautiful Bucky. You look so unbelievably handsome, I can’t believe it’s not photoshop.” Bucky cracked a big smile at your words.

He was initially worried his scars would put you off but he was glad that wasn’t the case. And it also proved his point that you could make him laugh at any situation.

You traced his metal arm with your eyes and that’s when the little metal barbell pierced in his nipple caught your eye. You opened your mouth to speak but instead gawked at him like a fish.

“Are you James?” Bucky stared at you for a moment. He couldn’t let this happen now. It would ruin the moment and his dick would never really forgive him for it.

“What do you think my name is? It’s not Steve as long as I remember.” He quipped as he crawled back upon you. He began laying soft kisses on your thighs and trailed up to your cheeks. “No like are you…”

He didn’t give you a chance to finish as he shut you up with a kiss. You moaned in the kiss as his fingers started tweaking your nipple. “Shhh no more talking.”

He quickly flipped your around on your stomach and pulled your ass up. His hands found the base of the plug and he started playing with it. Pulling it out, pressing it in. “Ahh… please. I need you… please.”

He pushed your knees apart and situation himself between you. He pressed himself behind you and you could feel his tip nudging your hole. “Please..”

You both moaned in unison as he entered you. “Fuck, you’re tight.” He grunted as he entered you inch by inch. He could feel the plug in your other hole and it was driving him even more crazy.

He didn’t give you a moment of reprieve as he began thrusting. And god, was he true to his word. His thrusts were strong and hard. He was actually fucking you like it was his last day on this earth.

You just closed your eyes and took it as he pounded into you. His hands were holding your hips and the sound of the slapping of skin was heard throughout the room.

He was grunting and huffing in your ear and you never wanted to listen to anything else. The only thing that currently mattered to you was Bucky and his cock splitting you in half.

Bucky had sinned all his life, but this didn’t feel like it. If anything, you felt like heaven and he wanted to be as close to you as possible.

There was just something sinister but godly in ruining you for anyone else but him. He wanted you to crave him just like he craved you. It was an addiction he didn’t want to let go of.

“You feel so good doll. So perfect… fuck. You were made for me weren’t you?” His other hand once again started pulling the plug out and he kept it at its thickest point and thrust it back in.

“Ahhhh!! Fuck. Bucky.. can I come? Please sir please.” He was literally fucking both of your holes and you couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Cum for me doll.” His words sent you hurling down into an orgasm and you felt the most intense pleasure you ever had felt. This orgasm shook your mind, body, and soul.

You felt Bucky’s warm cum fill you up and you moaned at the sensation. Bucky held you close to him as you both rode out your pleasure.

“Fuck that was intense.” Bucky just chuckled behind you and hummed. “It was the best. Thank you doll.” He placed a sweet kiss on your sweat soaked cheek.

“Umm, do you have aloe vera gel?” He asked as he carefully removed the plug. You couldn’t believe how soft and gentle Bucky was with you.

“Hmm I do. But I can’t remember where.” You just wanted to sleep in Bucky’s embrace now. You could look after everything the next morning.

He slowly removed himself from you and you whined at the loss. “It’s okay. I’ll be right back.” He was about to leave when he noticed his cum dripping from you pussy.

With two fingers, he scooped up the cum and pushed it back into you. “Unnggg, Bucky! You’re the nastiest person ever!” He placed a quick kiss to your ass. “You’re no less.”

He got up from the bed and walked over to get a wet cloth and gel. It took him some time to collect everything but when he came back, you were already asleep.

He gently cleaned you up and applied the soothing gel to your butt. He settled back into the bed only once he was done doing all he thought that was necessary.

He put his arm around you and nuzzled into him in your sleep. “I love you.” He whispered in the silence of the night and kissed your forehead before going to sleep.

[sinfulspencer]

Through the walls (part I)

Prompt: Spencer’s neighbour annoys him with her unusual job. One day she asks him to join her. Read part 2 here.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Rating: mature (18+, minors DNI)

Warnings: light dom/sub undertones (Sub!Reader, SoftDom!Reid), daddy kink, use of “Doctor” and “sir”, dirty talking, self-masturbation, mutual masturbation, oral sex (male receiving)

Words: 11.1k

A.N.: Reader is a cam-girl. I have no idea how those websites work, but let’s pretend they’re all legal and the FBI can’t do anything about them. There’s going to be a part II because I feel like they deserve a good night of pure fucking.

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Spencer Reid is not a bad neighbour.

He doesn’t throw parties with strangers. He doesn’t listen to music at a high volume.

He doesn’t yell when he’s on the phone. He cleans the stairs when it’s his turn.

He pays the elevator’s bills on time even though he never uses it.

He doesn’t steal his neighbour’s spot in the parking lot.

Spencer is a model neighbour, always helping the old lady on his floor with her groceries and offering to help with her laundry when he spots her walking down the stairs.

He has been living in that condominium for the past three years and he has never had a problem with the rest of the co-owners before.

That’s it until you arrive.

Spencer noticed you while he was getting ready in his living room after Emily called him for a case. You were on the balcony with one of your friends, smoking a cigarette and laughing about the episode of a TV show you just finished watching. You were so loud.

The old lady told him that a young woman was going to move into the apartment next to his, but he hadn't seen you until that day. Spencer wasn’t worried: that condominium is filled with quiet people, living in silence and enjoying the gorgeous sound of absolutely nothing.

You don’t.

You listen to your music at a high volume and you make sounds.

Lots of them.

Spencer wasn’t a big fan of earplugs until you came along, until he had to wear them to silence the anger ringing through his body, and to focus on his book instead of those sounds. He was on the verge of jumping off his couch and coming straight to your door, but he didn’t.

He had to stay quiet, reading that book and shaking his head.

Spencer was tempted to talk to the old lady about you and ask her if she has heard the sounds you make, but the old woman started to praise and express how much she loves having such a beautiful new neighbour around and how sweet you are. While Spencer was away to work on cases or when he was busy with his part-time job as David’s TA, you came down to help her every single day – and you became her friend, offering her some tea and talking to her about the weather.

Spencer wanted to hate you so bad because you kept bothering him with those sounds, with those obnoxious screams of pleasure that he couldn’t stop thinking about. No one in the condominium has heard his neighbours doing such lewd activities, no one even thought about yelling so loud and moaning so whorishly – because they’re all very private people.

There’s no point in being so loud.

But you?

Spencer is puzzled.

He’s not surprised you get laid often, you’re fascinating and incredibly beautiful. He can’t deny the truth. Your beauty is almost painful to admire, a beauty everyone should be jealous of.

However, he thinks you could be just a little quieter.

You can have sex as much as you want. He can’t deny you such pleasure, but you can tone your voice down a little. Spencer doesn’t care if you’re enjoying whatever your partner is doing to you, but he would love to keep his focus on the book he has in his hands or on the receipt he’s trying to cook without thinking about sex.

The first time Spencer says something, he doesn’t actually talk to you.

It happens on a Saturday night.

The rest of the team has decided to hang out for a drink, but unfortunately Spencer doesn’t feel too well so he stays at home. And for the rest of the night, all he can hear is a chorus of moans coming from the walls and the creaking sound of the bed hitting the wall over and over again. Annoyed and with a horrible headache that doesn’t seem ready to leave him just yet, Spencer decides to act.

He slips a post-it underneath your door and hopes you don’t throw it in the trash.

‘Hi, I’m really sorry to bother you. I don’t want to seem rude, but the walls are quite thin and I can hear everything. Could you please keep it down?’

Spencer doesn’t see you around for the next few days and he thinks it’s because of his note. He manages to sleep without hearing your moans, he gets to bake a cake for JJ’s birthday without complaining about how loud you are, he can finish his two new books without the earplugs bothering him.

He doesn’t feel bad for speaking up about a situation that made him slightly uncomfortable, but he feels bad because you disappeared. He can’t hear the sound of your laughter on the balcony, he can’t hear the sound of your door closing and the sigh you release once you get home.

He can’t hear anything at all.

Everything is perfect.

Everything is back to normal.

Until you come home, two days later, and start making sounds again.

Spencer has organized a little party at his apartment with Penelope, JJ, Emily and Derek. They’re watching a movie all cuddled up on the couch, too focused on the plot of the story until they hear a long whine. At first JJ thinks it’s one of the actors in the movie and she doesn’t say anything, but then Spencer’s friends hear another moan.

And this time, Morgan speaks up.

“Someone’s having fun.”

Spencer acts like nothing is happening, shrugging when Morgan touches his shoulder. He doesn’t want to get angry when his friends are there, he wants to enjoy this night with them and forget about the sounds you’re making.

Maybe you forgot about the note, maybe you didn’t read it and maybe you were out of town – or maybe you’re doing this on purpose.

You and Spencer have never actually met before. He doesn’t know your name, you don’t know his. You know how the other looks like, but you’ve never faced each other before – and Spencer thinks it’s finally time that you do, or you will never stop acting like this.

The night passes in a hurry.

When Spencer is alone and is ready to go to bed, he lays down on his mattress with his eyes on the ceiling. He has slipped a note underneath your door. What else does he have to do to make you stop? Why can’t you just understand that you have to keep it down?

You’re not the only person that lives inside this building.

Spencer stares at the white cracks on the ceiling, with your moans almost lullabying him to sleep.

Lifting the blanket to cover half of his body, Spencer lets out a frustrated sigh. No matter how tired he is and how exhausted his body feels, he can’t bring himself to close his eyes and drift off to sleep. He’s supposed to go to work really early in the morning, to attend David’s lesson as a guest, but if you keep moaning like that and yelling about how much you like getting fucked, Spencer won’t wake up in time.

How can you possibly be okay with your co-flat owners knowing when you’re getting laid? Shouldn’t you be a more private person when it comes to this kind of business?

Spencer runs his fingers through his hair, sitting up in the centre of the bed. He’s tempted to run out of his apartment and bang on your door to give you a piece of his mind, but at the same time... He doesn’t really want your voice to vanish.

Your moans are... something else.

If he felt violated before, now he doesn’t anymore. It’s actually interesting hearing your voice and listening to what you have to say while you’re getting laid, mostly because you seem such an innocent and sweet person.

When he saw you the first time, he didn’t know you actually liked to call yourself a ‘whore’ during sex, but apparently you do. Because it’s what he’s hearing right now, with your bed creaking and knocking against the wall of your bedroom.

‘Yeah? You like when I’m a whore for you, daddy?’

Spencer shakes his head, covering his face with both his hands. That sweet voice of yours is contradicting your harsh words and Spencer is truly terrified, because this shouldn’t feel as good as it does. And it shouldn’t wake a certain part of his body up.

He can’t touch himself just because he can hear you moan like that.

He can’t imagine having you in his bedroom, on your knees for him while you whisper about being a whore ready to get used and ruined by him.

However, you don’t need to know what he’s doing. You don’t need to hear his moans and luckily, Spencer can be quiet when he wants to – especially if he has someone at home, waiting for him in the bedroom as eager as he is right now to play with his body.

Spencer manages to stand up from the bed, gathering everything he might need to clean himself up after doing the deed – should he really do this, though? He doesn’t want to watch porn and your voice sounds so perfect, echoing in his brain and through the thin walls of his bedroom.

You’re much better than those fake moans in porn videos.

‘You’re so big, daddy. Oh my God, you’re so fucking deep.’

Spencer groans at your words, closing his eyes and laying back down on the bed. It’s been so long since he has been intimate with somebody and he thought he didn’t miss it, but his body is betraying him right now and it’s all your fault.

Everything’s your fault.

If you toned your voice down, he wouldn’t have felt this way.

‘Harder, please. Fuck me harder.’

Spencer pushes his briefs down his legs, now resting completely naked on his bed. Maybe fucking you harder will make you quiet, maybe fucking you to the point you can barely understand where you end and where he starts will shut your mouth for once.

There are so many thoughts running through his mind right now. Spencer’s hand is tight around his cock and his movements are quick, bringing him to the edge as fast as he can. Maybe having an orgasm will make him fall asleep faster, but he’s not so sure – your voice is still haunting him.

‘You know I can take it, daddy. I’m your good girl.’

Spencer releases a moan, throwing his head back as he pictures you sitting on his thighs and bouncing up and down his cock. It’s difficult to take that image off his brain and it will be even trickier not to look into your eyes in the next few days without remembering what he’s doing right now.

His wrist is working rapidly, producing a wet sound followed by short moans escaping his lips.

He would love to watch you take his cock inside of you, stretching you out and filling you up until you can’t take it anymore. He would love to put a hand over your mouth and tell you to be quiet, because you need to be fucking silent for a few seconds – so that his brain can function correctly again, so that he can focus on whatever he needs to be focused on.

‘I’ve been such a good girl, daddy. Can I come? Please?’

Spencer cries out in pleasure at the saccharine tone you’re using right now, completely different from the context you probably are. He imagines you naked, whining on your bed and on top of your partners. They’re touching you, using you, marking you – and you’re almost there, almost hitting that delicious peak of pleasure that will leave you high and satisfied.

Using his free hand to grasp the bed sheets, Spencer can feel himself getting closer to the edge as well. His whole body is tense and a heat spreads through his whole body, making it difficult for him to keep quiet – and a loud moan leaves his lips.

‘Fuck.. Just like that. So good, daddy. You feel so fucking good inside of me.’

How the Hell is he going to look at you in the eyes without remembering what he’s doing now?

Spencer gasps when the pleasure spikes inside of him, throwing his head back against the pillow. His heart is ready to jump out of his throat, smashing on the ground and hiding from your sight if you ever end up walking out of your house while he’s out too.

‘Come inside of me, daddy. Let me make you a real daddy!’

And that’s all it takes for Spencer to jump over the edge.

Painting his lower abdomen with his own come, Spencer finally goes limp. If he thought he was tired before, he didn’t know he’d feel much worse right now – his arms are aching, his eyes are burning and he’s all dirty.

He should’ve known.

Spencer sighs softly, turning his head to the side and staring at the sheets of paper he prepared just in case.

‘Thank you daddy, I’m so happy now.’

His eyes are closed, his hair is messy, his lips are parted and every cell in his body has finally reached a state of peace he didn’t think he’d find in a moment like this. Stretching his legs, Spencer grabs a few tissues and starts to clean himself up – he took a shower this morning, he doesn’t want to get off the bed and take another one.

He’ll do it in the morning, no matter how dirty and sticky he feels.

Your sounds stop abruptly.

Maybe you’re just as tired as Spencer is, or maybe your partner told you to stay silent. Either way, you’re not speaking and suddenly Spencer misses your voice – as if it was the soundtrack of his nights and his days.

Once Spencer has thrown all of those dirty tissues in the trash can beside the nightstand, he tucks himself into bed and grabs his phone. It’s almost midnight and he has an alarm ready to wake him up in less than six hours, which means he needs to go to sleep.

Having an orgasm definitely helped.

‘You should’ve seen that guy! Fucking pathetic, babe. He paid me a hundred bucks just to see me humping a pillow and calling him daddy.’

Spencer frowns at the sound of your voice suddenly filling his brain again. Maybe he misheard what you just said, maybe you’re talking about something else – and Spencer’s brain, still riding that delicious edge, is too dumb to actually focus on something that makes sense.

It happens, oxytocin is a weird hormone.

‘Yes, he’s the one that offered me a thousand bucks to see my face! Fuck that, it’ll never happen.’

Spencer stays silent, lifting the blanket to cover his body up to his nose. So you weren’t having sex with anybody? You were just... recording something for someone? You get paid to do this?

Spencer is well aware of websites where people show off their bodies and their skills for money. He has used one to get off for a couple of times but then he stopped. It wasn’t as fulfilling as Derek told him it would be.

However... he wasn’t expecting you to do this kind of job.

There’s nothing wrong with it. If you’ve got a wonderful body, you should flaunt it however you prefer. He’s just surprised, because through all this time he thought you were actually having sex with someone – and he was jealous of that someone.

Now he’s just jealous of the people who get to hear your pretty moans every night.

‘Don’t worry, I’ll quit in a few weeks. I have enough money to pay the next three years' rent.’

Oh, so you plan on quitting this job.

‘Stop asking me about my neighbour! You’re so obsessed with him.’

Are you talking about Spencer? And who are you on the phone with?

‘He left a note and begged me to keep quiet. I was this close to telling him to make me shut up, but I didn’t. I heard he’s an FBI agent. I don’t want to go to jail.’

Oh, so you read the note. You just didn’t know how to stop yourself.

Spencer puts a hand over his mouth, closing his eyes and shaking his head. There are too many things you’re saying that are messing with his brain – now he’s sure you’re talking about him, because there are no other FBI agents inside the building.

He would’ve known.

‘Listen, I don’t want to get arrested, but if he’s the one putting me in handcuffs, though... I wouldn’t complain at all.’

Spencer releases a loud laugh before he realises what he has done.

Covering his mouth with a hand before he could do more damage than what he had already done, he closes his eyes and shifts underneath the blanket. Suddenly you don’t speak anymore and he feels like shit because he jerked off due to your voice, he’s eavesdropping on your conversation and he’s laughing about it as well.

He shouldn’t have done all of that.

He should’ve just minded his own business.

‘I’ll call you tomorrow. Goodnight babe, sleep well.’

Your voice sounds unsure and Spencer hopes it’s not because you heard him laughing. If you had, he’ll never live up to the fact that he heard you moaning like a whore for no one in particular and that you’re actually making fun of the man that paid you to see your body.

Spencer turns off the lights in his bedroom, hoping not to meet you tomorrow.

And soon, he drifts off to sleep.

Sitting outside with a cigarette between your fingers and a drink in your other hand, you cross your legs while the music in your earplugs. The gentle melody brings a smile over your lips, forgetting about the cold December air caressing your arms barely covered by your sweater. You’ve spent the whole morning inside your house, cooking for the dinner you’re supposed to have with your best friend.

It’s been two days since you’ve heard someone laugh.

You know who that “someone” is, but you’ve tried to forget and pretend like nothing has happened. You were so embarrassed because you knew damn well he heard you talking about him – which means he heard you before while you were working.

However, your neighbour has been kind enough not to say anything yesterday.

You saw him getting out of his house with his leather satchel hanging from his shoulder and you were tempted to stop him, but your cheeks were too red and your heart was throbbing in your chest. It would’ve been a disaster – mostly because you had no idea how to approach him and what to tell him.

‘Hey, sorry you heard me moaning while I was pretending to enjoy humping a pillow for a client. Please, can we forget what happened and move on?’

No, that would’ve been too stupid.

You don’t want to get in trouble with an FBI agent.

Crushing your work cigarette inside the ashtray, you blow out the grey smoke and wait for your song to end. It’s a December night and you’re wearing your warmest sweater, enjoying the purple fabric caressing your body and protecting it from the cold outside.

Your hands are cold and you know you should go back inside your kitchen, but you don’t want to move from where you’re sitting. It’s the perfect spot from where you can peek into his window and see your neighbour pacing around his room with a book in his hand. He’s talking, probably reading out loud whatever is written on those pages.

You’ve heard his voice before.

Smooth, warm, adorable.

It fits him perfectly.

You don’t know much about him besides his job because the old lady told you all about it: he works for the FBI as a profiler, which means he uses psychology to catch criminals. Not only is he incredibly beautiful, with those adorable chocolate eyes and those soft hair, but he’s also smart – and you were tempted to knock on his door and ask him a bunch of questions on his job.

You’ve always been into true crimes and those kinds of documentaries, but living close to a person that actually works in that field feels so weird. Maybe you can use that as an excuse to go over to his place.

You take off one of your earplugs when you spot your neighbour walking closer to the window and you raise a hand, waving at him. He sees you and your heart immediately drops to your ass when he waves back at you.

Spencer is confused.

He doesn’t know why you’re trying to catch his attention, but he doesn’t complain. He saw you outside on the balcony earlier and he was tempted to come and say hi, but he didn’t.

You did it first.

Gathering some courage given by the fact that you know he listened to you “working” two days ago, you snap your fingers in hope to catch his attention – and keep it for a few seconds, enough for him to close the book in his hands and leave it somewhere in his living room.

“Hey! Come outside!”

You put both your earplugs inside the pocket of your trousers and you get closer to the metallic railing that separates your balcony from his. Your neighbour opens the door of his balcony and peaks out with his head, before heading back inside after yelling “Sweater!”.

He disappears for a few seconds before coming back wearing a grey sweater.

“It’s not as cold as it should be.” – you say with a smile, still leaning over the railing – “I bet that sweater is warm. It looks very comfortable.”

“It is! My best friend, Derek, gave it to me for Christmas. It was an early gift.” – he explains, gently touching the edge of the sweater – “I like yours. Navy blue is my favourite colour.”

You take a step back, grabbing a chair and pushing it closer to him. “I found out your favourite colour before your name. Good to know, though.”

“Spencer Reid.”

“Y/N, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Spencer looks at you, a tight smile spreading over his lips. “Nice to meet you. It’s a shame we haven’t met before, but I’ve been kind of busy and...”

“I understand, don’t worry.” – you tell him, pointing to his trousers where you can see the logo of his job written in white fabric– “You work for the FBI, I can imagine you don’t have much free time.”

He releases a short laugh, looking down at the point you’re directing. “Yeah, I’m always working but it’s almost Christmas, which means I’m more free than usual.”

“Are you going to spend Christmas all by yourself?” you ask

Spencer shrugs, biting his bottom lip. “I’m going to visit my mother in DC and then, yes. I’ll probably make myself some vegetable soup and watch a Christmas movie alone.”

“All alone? Absolutely not.” – you tell him, giving him a wink – “Come over to my place on Christmas. We can play scrabble or start a puzzle together. I don’t like being alone on Christmas, but my parents are on a cruise so they can’t really come here to Quantico.”

Surprised by your offer, Spencer widens his eyes. He wasn’t expecting you to be so incredibly sweet – he can still hear your moans from two days ago ringing in his head, how you called that man ‘daddy’. It’s fun to see how different you are from the persona you pretend to be.

If he has to be honest, Spencer is supposed to go to JJ’s Christmas dinner with her kids and the rest of his colleagues, but he’s not a big fan of Christmas’ celebration. Maybe celebrating it with you could be an interesting twist to his year.

After all, you seem nice. He can’t deny he feels weird talking to you after jerking off to your voice and your moans, but at the same time you might be used to it. At the end of the day, you’re a camgirl – or whatever it is called nowadays. People jerk off to you all the time.

However, he feels bad.

Terribly bad.

“That’s a lovely offer I might take.”

“Wonderful! I’m not the best cook in the world, but I’m sure we can manage to find something decent to eat instead of ordering take out. I always feel bad ordering from bars and restaurants during Christmas time.”

Spencer nods eagerly at your words, leaning forward. “Same! Those poor waiters and cooks are probably overworked. I don’t want to add to their stress with my order.”

You sit down on your chair, brushing your hands over your arms. “Exactly. We can find some recipes you’d like to try and make it ourselves!”

“Sounds perfect.” – he gives you a thumbs up, smiling – “Uh, I... If you’re cold, you can go inside. I don’t want to keep you out.”

You shrug. “Yes, I’ll go now. My friend should be here any moment.”

“Oh, good for you.” – Spencer mumbles, running his fingers through his hair – “I hope you have a good night, Y/N.”

“Thank you, Spencer.” – you tell him, holding out your hand – “I’ll see you around.”

You wait for him to shake your hand, but he simply stares at it. He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, then he gently holds out his hand and shakes yours. His fingers close around yours, warming you up from the insides, but the contact is so quick – before you can blink, he’s already turning away.

So do you, heading back to the living room.

“Wait! Y/N?”

Spencer’s voice catches you off guard, almost making you bump against the glass. “Yes, Spencer?”

“I’m sorry about two nights ago. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop on your, uh, moment.”

Your heart drops down to your chest once again and you have no idea how to answer him. You were expecting him to say something because it was so obvious he was listening to you, but at the same time you were hoping he wouldn’t say a thing.

It’s already embarrassing knowing that he heard you.

It’s even worse listening to him talking about that out loud.

“I’m sorry for being so loud.”

“No, it’s fine. Now I know why you’re doing it, I just...”

You lift your hand, interrupting him. “I’ll tone it down, don’t worry. I’m sorry if I bothered you two days ago, it wasn’t my intention.”

“Oh no, you were actually helpful.” he says

When Spencer realises he said those words out loud, he wants to slam his head against the metallic railing of the balcony and hope the floor swallows him whole. He wasn’t supposed to say that out loud, he wasn’t supposed to hint at the fact that he touched himself due to her voice and her moans, but he did – and now you’re staring at him.

A devilish smirk appears on your lips and Spencer knows it won’t go away any time soon.

“How so, Spencer?”

The young doctor shakes his head, blushing hard. “Sorry, I...”

You release a short laugh, forgetting about the bell ringing on the other side of your house. Your friend is there, but you’re too busy flirting with Spencer and watching him squirm in anticipation.

He wasn’t supposed to reply to you like that, but you’re a woman full of surprises – and he’s going to discover them one by one before the end of the year.

“Hey, it’s fine if you’ve masturbated because of me. That’s kind of my job, you know.” – you whisper, making sure to keep your voice low so that your other neighbours don’t hear – “Next time you want some help, come and knock at my door. I’ll be even more helpful on my knees.”

You leave Spencer standing like an idiot on his balcony, with his eyes fixed on your glass and his heart ready to jump out of his throat.

What the fuck has just happened?

“How’s it going with your neighbour?”

Spencer takes a sip of coffee, sitting down on his couch. “I have no comments on the matter, Derek.”

Penelope widens her eyes, sitting up on her chair. “That means something had happened! You just don’t want to tell us! Come on, Spence! We’re curious!”

Derek taps her on the shoulder, silently telling her to calm down. It’s obvious Spencer doesn’t want to talk about his neighbour – who appears to be a cam-girl or something similar that gets paid from men who want to see her in sexual situations.

“Has she stopped making sounds?”

Spencer shakes head, tightening his grip on his mug. “Not really. She just toned her voice down a little, but I can still hear her pretty clearly. It’s getting uncomfortable.”

That’s not true.

On the contrary, it’s getting way too comfortable – and pleasurable.

Spencer heard you moan his name a couple of times, if he has to be honest, but he’s also not really sure. He thought he was dreaming the first time because it happened on a night he wasn't supposed to come home; he returned earlier from a case and he went straight to bed, but you were awake.

You were wide awake and recording a video, because he could hear you shuffling around the room and making those adorable squeaks you always release when you’re almost there. And then, when it was time to let go, you called out his name.

It was a whisper.

Spencer thought he misheard you, but then you moaned his name again. He couldn’t believe what you were doing and he forced himself to think that you were just working for a client with the same name as him – you weren’t. You just wanted to turn Spencer on and it worked. You sent him into a spiral, with his hands down his body and his back arching off the bed.

You could hear shuffling from his bedroom as well and just like him, you worked yourself to reach that delicious heat that spread through your body at the idea of him touching you.

“You should just talk to her, Reid.” – Derek suggests, raising his brows – “I know you don’t like confrontations, but if you’re that uncomfortable, I think it’s the only option.”

“It’s Christmas, maybe I’m just being more annoying than usual because…”

Penelope puts a hand over her mouth, pretending to cough. “Bullshit.”

The young doctor rolls his eyes, taking another sip of coffee. “Okay, that was a lame excuse. How do I approach a woman that moans too loudly for my tastes?”

Derek holds back a laugh, nudging Spencer’s knee with his shoe. “Just knock on her door and ask her to keep it down because you don’t need to hear her getting laid while you don’t.”

“Hey! Stop it, Derek.” - Spencer points his finger at him, shaking his head - “That’s not the point.”

Penelope leans forward, giggling. “Then, what is it? Do you want to be the one making her moan?”

Spencer grabs his leather satchel from his desk and stands up from the chair, leaving the empty mug of coffee next to Derek’s. He’s not going to stay there with his friend making fun of him, he has better things to do at home - such as trying to talk to you again.

Tomorrow it’s Christmas’ Eve and he has no idea whether he should come over tomorrow and the day after, or just on Christmas. He wouldn’t mind staying both days.

After all, he’s alone and he knows you are as well, but.

“Have a wonderful Christmas, Pretty Boy!”

Spencer hears Derek’s voice coming from his desk, but heads to the elevator. He has so many thoughts running through his head: he hasn’t read a single recipe since you suggested he find one, he hasn’t picked an outfit to wear while he’s with you, he hasn’t styled his hair decently, he hasn’t looked at a list of movies you can watch with him.

He wouldn’t mind doing something else with you instead of watching a movie.

However, Spencer knows that will never happen.

Leaving his car parked right in front of his condominium, Spencer notices the lights in your living room are on. You’re home and he smiles, because he was planning on knocking on your door - not to ask you that kind of favour, but because he wants to talk to you about your Christmas celebration.

Spencer takes the elevator for the first time. His knees are buckling and he’s nervous to knock on your door because he’s terrified of bothering you, but when he approaches your apartment, he hears moans.

They’re not as loud as the ones he can hear from his bedroom, but he can definitely recognize moans of pleasure from other kinds of sounds.

Are you working right now?

He figures you are. There are a lot of lonely people in the world right now who want that kind of company and you’re giving it to them, even though you’re just doing that for the money.

Or maybe for the praise, too.

Spencer doesn’t know, he hasn’t had that conversation with you and in full honesty, he doesn’t want to. He’s scared it might make you uncomfortable - and he doesn’t want that.

Never, ever.

Spencer stares at your name over the bell next to your door before pressing the button twice, hoping that you can hear it. And you do, because your moans stop as soon as his finger leaves the button.

‘Fuck!’

He can hear your voice from inside your room, followed by quick footsteps towards the door and a frustrated sigh. You haven’t opened the door and he can still hear you curse at whoever bothered you.

Spencer holds back a laugh.

He feels bad, yes, but at the same time he finds it funny.

It’s the first time you interrupt someone in a particular situation. Normally he’s the one being bothered in those moments. It feels slightly better to be on the other side of the matter.

‘Dammit! Where the fuck is my sweater?’

Spencer looks around the hallway. It’s completely empty.

“It’s Spencer.”

You hear him talking on the other side of the door. Stopping your research for a sweater, you unlock the door of your apartment and open it just enough for him to see that you’re not wearing anything.

Well, that’s not true.

You’re wearing a Santa hat.

And a pair of white tights with a pom-pom on each side.

You were definitely working on your Christmas’ video.

“Sorry, just… Give me a second. I’m not ready.”

“Take all the time you need.” Spencer tells you, leaning with his back against the wall

He can’t take the image of you completely naked, besides that stupid Santa hat and those thighs, off his brain. Spencer found you attractive with all your clothes on, but almost seeing you without them and in a festive outfit, is driving you almost wild.

He can’t barge into your apartment because it’s a crime, but imagining doing that and dreaming of taking you from behind while taking off the hat from your soft hair, it’s not.

The door opens, revealing your body now completely covered by a long sweater.

You’re still wearing those tights, but the pom-poms are covered by the fabric of your top. It’s a shame, Spencer thought they were pretty cute - at the same time he can still dream of having your legs wrapped around his waist.

“Sorry, I was.. Uh.”

“Working? It’s okay.” - Spencer says, moving away from the wall and stepping inside your place - “I can come back later, if you want. I don’t want to interrupt your, uh, scene.”

You stand next to the entrance, watching him look around your apartment. You’ve thought about this before. You were tempted to call him the other night when you couldn’t get off decently for a video you were recording, but you stopped yourself before you could do more damage than good.

Now, however, you’re tempted to open your mouth.

So you do, because who fucking cares.

The worst thing that could happen is hearing him say ‘no’.

“You can watch, if you want.”

Spencer turns to look at you, almost dropping his leather satchel to the floor.

“I won’t make you pay, don’t worry.”

Your body language suggests you’re not lying to him and you’re not making fun of him either. Spencer doesn’t know if he should stop and watch you while you record a video of yourself humping a pillow - or worse, riding something else - but he wouldn’t mind.

What if he gets hard while you’re moving and moaning? What if he has to cover his hips with a pillow because you’re disgusted by him?

“Y-Yeah. I, uh… Okay. Yeah.”

You smirk at his answer, pointing to the door behind you. “Come to my studio, then.”

Spencer clears his throat, leaving his leather satchel on your couch before following you down the short hallway of your apartment. He doesn’t know what’s going to happen, but he’s not going to stay silent if something makes him uncomfortable - this is the point of communication, right?

But what if all he can say is ‘please, ride me and not that toy’?

Or worse, what if he gets so worked up he interrupts your video and people see him?

You wouldn’t send anything with him to anybody, obviously, but Spencer doesn’t want to jeopardize his job for something like this right now, however his brain is not working correctly.

He’s too focused on the way you’re swinging your hips and how your sweater is revealing more than he thought.

“You can sit there.” - you open the door, pointing to a pink couch on the other side of the room - “My cameras are here and they won’t record you, but I’m going to watch the video later to make sure of that.”

You cross your arms to your chest, watching Spencer walk to the couch and sit uncomfortably on it. He has his legs crossed and his eyes fixed on your face, waiting for you to say or do something.

“If you don’t want to stay…”

“No! No, I.. It’s fine. I’m curious about your, uhm, occupation.” - Spencer mumbles, pointing to the set-up cameras next to the small bed in the middle of the room - “My bedroom is right behind that wall, isn’t it?”

You nod your head, taking off your sweater and standing completely naked - besides those tights on - in front of him.

Spencer almost passes out at the sight, immediately feeling all of his blood rushing down to his lower abdomen and right between his legs. He shouldn’t let this simple sight excite him too much, but it’s difficult when you look so deliciously sinful with nothing on.

And the way your body looks…

Spencer could spend hours worshipping every single inch of it and writing poems about how beautiful you are. He doesn’t know what he has done to deserve such an incredible sight.

“You can speak, Spencer. I’m not going to bite you.” - you say with a smile, sitting in the middle of the bed - “Well, unless you want me to.”

Spencer clears his throat, fidgeting with his fingers. “You, uh… Are you supposed to be Mrs. Claus?”

Shrugging, you fix the camera pointed right at you. “Not really. The guy asked me to wear something festive because it’s his birthday tomorrow. I thought this was fitting. I didn’t want to go out and buy a whole outfit, you know.”

“Oh. That’s cool.”

He nods his head, too focused on admiring your beauty instead of listening to your words. He can’t believe you’re letting him watch and he can’t believe he accepted your offer, but again he didn’t think it would’ve happened.

Derek is going to freak out the moment he hears about this.

It’d be even funnier if Derek actually subscribed to see her and paid for one of her videos, while Spencer had everything handed to him on a silver platter.

You position yourself in the middle of the bed with a pillow right between your legs and run your fingers through your hair, making sure you look like you hadn’t been interrupted by the same person sitting in the room with you.

“Are you uncomfortable?”

Spencer shakes his head, forcing himself to keep his eyes on your face. If he gives in to his desire to look at another part of your body, he’s not going to last.

“No, it’s just... The first time something like this happens to me.”

“You’ve never seen a porn video before?” you ask

Spencer shrugs, biting his bottom lip. “I have, just not in real life. Not in front of me, I guess?”

“You’re free to go if you’re uncomfortable.” – you tell him, making sure that he knows he has the chance to leave whenever he wants – “I don’t want to force you to stay here.”

The young doctor has no intention of getting away from your studio. He’s going to enjoy the show, forge the image of your naked body in his mind and replay it every single time he needs to get off after a long, frustrating day.

You look so fucking beautiful, Spencer can’t even begin to think about leaving this place.

“I have to start recording now, so... Keep your mouth shut.” – you tell him, winking at him – “And enjoy the show, Doctor Reid.”

Ah, so you know his full-name.

And you also know he’s a doctor, much to his disadvantage.

He might enjoy being called like that in the bedroom.

You tap a button on the controller next to your pillow and the camera turns on, capturing half of your body without your face. Spencer leans to the side to look at what you’re recording and he smiles, because you’re deliberately covering your face so no one knows who you are – and who looks so deliciously pretty.

Smart move.

When you start rolling your hips against the pillow, a soft moan leaves your lips and Spencer thinks he’s going to pass out right now. You sound so innocent, so sweet, so gentle while you’re rocking against your pillow to seek that friction you desperately crave.

You throw your head back and Spencer can’t stop watching your face. Your lips twitch into a devilish smirk and your hair falls down your back, increasing the desire in his body to tug on it and force you to look at him.

Your neck needs something right there, possibly his hands.

Spencer shifts on the chair, feeling himself giving it to the desire to have you.

“You would feel much better, daddy. I wish you could be here with me.”

The friction from the white pillow against the soft fabric of your red panties is not enough, but Spencer’s hungry stare on your body is helping you get off quickly.

Arching your back, you grab your breasts with both hands. “Fuck, daddy... I want to ride you, I bet you’d feel much better than this fucking pillow.”

Spencer watches you as you twist your nipples between your fingers, tightening his hands in fists. He wonders what kind of sounds you’d make if he wrapped his lips around them, sucking them gently while he guides you up and down his length.

“Would you let me ride your pretty cock, daddy? Would you let your little girl bounce on it and show you how good she is for you?”

Your voice is broken because of the pleasure.

Rolling your hips over and over against the pillow, you feel yourself getting wet. The tension is building in your stomach and you don’t know if it’s because Spencer is staring at you or because he has a hand between his legs, trying to cover up his bulge.

You see it, though.

And you’re dying to feel it, to use it to get off.

Turning your head to look at him, you lick your bottom lips and slide both your hands down your body to reach your waist.

“Or would you just watch me hump this pillow, daddy, and pretend it’s your cock? Do you want to watch me get off while you tell me what to do?” – you whisper, circling your hips – “You know I need your cock, daddy. This is nothing compared to that.”

Spencer unzips his pants as quietly as he can, keeping his eyes on your face the whole time. Watching you hump that pillow and moaning such naughty words is driving him crazy. You don’t seem disgusted by his action; on the contrary, you look even more excited to see him acting like this than before, when he was just quiet.

“Please, daddy, let me ride your cock. I need it, I’ve been so good for you.” - you whine, massaging your clit with the tip of your thumb – “See? I’m so fucking wet at the thought of riding you, of having your cock so deep inside of me.”

Spencer’s heart is beating fast in his chest as you throw your head back, releasing a long moan that echoes through the walls of the room. You look sinful like this, with your hair now messy and your chest heaving.

“Give it to me, daddy. Please?”

You clench your thighs at the sight of Spencer pushing his trousers and his boxers down enough to expose his cock. His eyes are filled with desire and he’s biting his bottom lips, bucking his hips forward.

“I bet you look so hot right now with your cock in your hand and watching me get off.” – you say with a smirk, clearly referring to the man in front of you and not the one who’s going to receive this video – “Oh fuck, daddy. I’m so c-close.”

Spencer pulls out his hard cock and grabs it by the base with his right hand, smirking when you part your lips at the sight. Your rhythm gets back to how it was before and you circle your hips, pushing it against your pillow.

A long moan comes out of your lips while Spencer starts stroking his length, smearing the pre-cum all over it. He has seen beautiful women and he has been with them before, but none of them was like you – so sensual, so innocent, so gorgeous.

“Daddy, oh fuck!”

Spencer bites his bottom lip to stop a moan from slipping out and watches you sit down on the bed with your legs wide open right in front of him. Your panties have a wet spot right where you were humping the pillow, but before he can think of something, you push them off your legs and throw them at Spencer.

He catches them with a hand and brings them down to his cock, using them to get off. Sliding his length against the soft fabric of your panties, he throws his head back while you sit back against the pillow.

It’s a shame the man you’re recording this for has only requested another session of pillow-humping, because you would’ve loved to give Spencer another kind of show with your favourite dildo. Not that you were planning on him joining you anytime soon, but he would’ve probably enjoyed it more.

Spencer picks up the pace of his movements and so do you, feeling that tingling sensation running through your bloodstream. Your moans get higher and your head is thrown back, bouncing and rolling your hips against the edge of the pillow. The delicious friction against your clit is getting stronger and stronger, until it gets too much.

You come with a loud whine, spreading your wetness all over your fingers and the pillow beneath your body.

“Oh fuck, daddy. Hm! You feel so fucking good.”

Spencer stares at her with wide eyes and his heart beating loud and fast in his chest, silencing every single sound outside that room. He focuses on your pants and your whimpers and the lewd sounds of your hand against your wetness, now smeared all over the bed.

He can’t wait to dip his face between your thighs and taste you, because he knows you would taste absolutely delicious – the kind of scent he would never get tired of.

“Thank you, daddy.” – you whisper, bringing your hand up to your mouth – “And since you’re not here to tell me how sweet I taste, I’m going to do it for you.”

With trembling thighs, you crawl towards the camera without showing off anything above your mouth. Stuffing your index and your medium finger inside your mouth, you suck on them and taste your own arousal.

Spencer is dying right now, flicking his wrist and pumping his cock harder at the sight.

He wants those fingers in his mouth, he wants you to bounce on his cock the same way you did with that stupid pillow and he wants to be the cause of your orgasm.

Right now, you are the reason why he’s coming.

Without making a sound, Spencer comes in his own hand and parts his lips. You have your eyes fixed on his face, admiring the way his eyes are closed and his nose is scrunching. He looks adorable even while he’s coming.

You wonder what sounds he would make if you’d been there on your knees.

“Hm, so sweet.” – you pull your fingers out of your mouth, smiling – “I hope you enjoy this birthday gift, daddy. I’ll see you next time.”

Kissing the camera as your client always wants, you interrupt the recording and lay back down on your bed. The Santa hat falls down on the floor, long forgotten by your desire to just get this over with, but you’re too exhausted to pick it up. You’ve been recording videos for your clients since this morning. You need a little break.

Spencer clears his throat, looking down at the mess he has made in his hand and in your panties, and glances at your naked body splayed on the bed. He watches you close your thighs and roll onto your tummy, with your eyes now on his face.

You give him a smile, pointing to your panties in his hand. “I guess you enjoyed the show.”

Spencer blushes at your implication. “Yeah, you could... You could say that.”

“I’m glad you did, Doctor Reid.” – you say with a wink, struggling to hop off the bed – “Come on, we need to get cleaned up.”

You take off your tights, leaving them on the bed, and you climb off the mattress. Spencer follows you out of the room and right inside the bathroom, with his trousers and his boxers down like an idiot.

He feels like one, because he ruined your Christmas panties.

He’s going to buy you another pair for Christmas, you deserve it.

“You’re free to join me in the shower, Spencer. I think we both need one. I’m all filthy.” – you say, opening the faucet of the shower – “Unless you plan on just washing your hands and walking back home.”

“No, no. I’d love to join you.” – he whispers, unbuttoning his shirt while looking away from you – “Thank you, Y/N.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Once he’s completely naked in front of you, Spencer steps inside the shower. You bite your bottom lip in order not to yell at him to fuck him – you’re too exhausted to survive another orgasm, but that doesn’t mean you won’t suck him off.

You will, because you want it so badly.

The warm water runs down Spencer’s back and he feels his muscles relaxing, allowing him to fully forget the busy day he had at work and the conversation he left his colleagues with. His wet hair is sticking to his forehead and he releases a low hum when your hands run up and down his back in a comforting motion.

“You okay, Spencer?”

He turns to look at you, drenched in water. “This is the first time I take a shower with a-a stranger. It’s, uhm, weird.”

“I can say the same.” – you nod your head, taking a step back – “I hope it’s the good kind of weird. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t. I came here on my own.” – he tells you, making sure you understand you didn’t force him to do anything he didn’t want to – “Thank you for offering me the shower, though.”

You lean forward, pressing your breasts to his chest. Spencer whimpers at the touch and slides his hand down your back, looking down at you. Your body is warm against his and your nipples are brushing against his chest, making it difficult for him to focus on the fact that one of your hands is sliding down to reach his cock.

It’s already hardening.

“I can offer you something else, Spencer.”

Spencer’s breathing becomes faulty when you brush with the tip of your fingers the base of his cock, but he quickly recovers with a quick kiss on your bare shoulder. Spencer is not going to reject your offer. He has been dreaming of you touching him or worshipping a certain part of your body.

Even though the shower is not his favourite place for this kind of activity, he’s not going to ask you to go to another room. If you want to move, it’s your decision – Spencer is going to enjoy whatever you’re willing to give him.

“Show it to me, then.”

You immediately drop down on your knees once you’ve got his answer. Leaving a trace of kisses down his perfectly toned tummy, you slide your hands up to his chest to tweak his nipples between your fingers.

Spencer whimpers at your gesture and leans with his back against the cold wall of the shower, watching in awe everything you’re doing.

“You are so beautiful, Spencer. The prettiest boy I’ve ever seen.”

Your hair is completely drenched in water, so it’s easier for Spencer to grab a fistful of it and yank your head back. He doesn’t know why he did that and he’s pretty sure you weren’t expecting him to act like that, but there’s no point in pretending he hasn’t dreamed about pulling your hair like this.

You smirk at his movement, maintaining eye-contact.

“What, sir? Do you like what you see?”

Spencer licks his bottom lip, brushing his hair off his forehead. “I do, but I think I’d rather have your lips around my cock.”

“Don’t be greedy, sir. I’m just getting to know you.” – you whisper back, winking at him before wrapping your fingers around the base of his cock – “You’re so big.”

You feel it hardening under your touch and you start stroking it again, repeating the same movements you watched Spencer do a few moments before. You are replicating exactly what he did to make sure he enjoys everything – and Spencer appreciates that, because you look so focused and happy about the moans coming out of his lips.

“Can I suck your cock, sir?”

Spencer nods, watching your tongue swirling on the head. “Go ahead.”

You don’t hesitate to take control of the moment.

You run your tongue up the underside of his cock, tracing along the vein with your eyes never leaving Spencer’s face. A drop of water runs from his forehead down to the tip of his nose, smearing against his chest. He looks so fucking delicious right now.

“You look so beautiful on your knees for me, pretty girl.”

You flash him a smile, pressing a soft kiss below the head of his cock. “Thank you, sir. You look even better with my cock down my throat, don’t you think?”

“Hm, let me decide that.” – Spencer mumbles, watching you wrap your lips around the tip and slowly take more and more of him into your mouth – “Yes. I a-agree with y-you.”

You pull away from him again, focusing with your tongue on his head. Your tongue is pressed against the fraenulum and Spencer’s back arches off the wall, while his hands tug on your hair in a delicate manner.

Watching him fall apart because of your moves is so exciting, so hot.

Who would’ve thought you’d end up on your knees for your neighbour?

You tighten your fingers around the base of his cock and hum with your lips pressed to the tip, admiring Spencer’s lips parting again and allowing a chorus of moans to slip out.

“Good girl.”

Giggling, you look up at him and run your hands up to his chest. Spencer covers them with his and looks down at you again, watching you finally take his cock into your mouth. Your tongue is warm and he can feel your throat relaxing in order to take as much of him as you can, probably to prove to him that you really want him.

Spencer doesn’t need that, he can read your body language pretty well.

Your pupils are blown out, your stare is hungry, your hands are antsy and you’re desperate to do anything for him and with him. You’re like an open book.

“Your mouth is so fucking perfect, pretty girl.” Spencer whispers

Never in the world did he think he’d end up with you, in your shower, on your knees.

Spencer has his brows furrowed in concentration as you start to bob your head with your eyes still on your face. You want him to know that you’re not ashamed of what you’re doing, that you crave this moment and that you’re not going to stop this until he comes in your mouth – or on any other part of your body.

You want him to crumble.

However, something tells you that you will probably crumble first.

Moaning against his length, you free your hands from his grip and slide them down to his hips in order to steady yourself on your knees. Spencer moans when you hollow your cheeks and throws his head back, keeping his hand through your hair and using the free one to caress your cheek.

He can feel his cock pressing against the palm of his hand as you suck on it, too lost in the moment to realise that Spencer is touching you.

“You taste so good, Doctor Reid.” – you whisper, pulling away completely before dedicating some attention to his balls – “I wish I could do this for hours. Would you like that? Having me on my knees whenever you want, for as long as you want?”

Spencer gulps at your words, looking down at you. The sight is absolutely shocking: he’s never going to forget how you look right now, so desperate and exposed, on your knees to worship every inch of him – until your knees start to hurt.

“A man can only dream, pretty girl. Now get back to sucking my cock.”

You don’t hesitate to obey, craving to show him that you’re a good girl. Your tongue runs up to his balls before getting back at the base of his cock, making sure to give it the same attention as the rest of his length.

And then you wrap your hand around it, stroking it gently and taking him back into your mouth.

“Is that what you wanted, pretty girl? Is that why you were moaning about my name days ago?” – Spencer says, placing a hand over your throat and forcing you to look at him while you continue your ministrations – “Did you invite me here because you were craving my cock?”

You struggle to nod at his words, licking the sensitive skin and sucking right below the head. There’s nothing better than a confident man fucking your mouth – in this case, Spencer Reid fucking your mouth and showing you that right in this moment you belong to him.

You wouldn’t want to belong to anybody else, if you have to be honest.

Your nose brushes against his hips and you have tears in your eyes, but Spencer is too lost in his own pleasure to realise that you’re struggling. You don’t care, you just want him to know that you’re a good girl and you want him to come down your throat.

“Fuck, pretty girl, you’re so good at this.”

Spencer lets you suck him freely for a couple of seconds, looking down at you and moving your hair off your forehead. The water is running down his back and he’s protecting you from the water hitting you in the face – adorable.

Making eye-contact with him, you wink and Spencer yanks your hair. “Don’t tease.”

His voice is now shaky and you can feel him twitch inside your mouth, another clear sign that he’s almost there. Spencer starts rolling his hips, rocking back and forth into your mouth to claim it and fucking it leisurely.

Watching him crumble down turns you on more than anything, in fact your right hand is already sliding down your body. You find your clit in a second and you start massaging it, while sucking Spencer’s off – or better, allowing him to use your mouth.

The deeper into his throat he goes, the harder you touch yourself.

His long hair is dripping on your face, his hungry stare devouring the sight of you on your knees as much as he can. He’s probably going to jerk off to this moment for years to come, he’s sure of it.

“I’m so close, pretty girl.” – Spencer whispers, pressing his palm against your cheeks – “Do you think you can let me come down your throat?”

You struggle to nod your head, looking at him and hoping he does. You feel his thigh muscles tensing underneath your left hand and you hollow your cheeks once more, quickening the pace of your fingers between your legs.

Slipping your index inside of you, the moan coming out of your mouth captures Spencer’s attention because he looks down at you with a smirk. He’s not surprised you’re touching yourself, he could see your thighs squeezing as soon as you got on your knees.

“Oh, look at my pretty girl touching herself. Did sucking my dick turn you on?” – Spencer asks you, his voice breaking because of the pleasure increasing at the sight – “Do you want to come on your fingers while you’re getting me off?”

Pulling out his cock from your mouth, you nod again. “Yes, Doctor. Please, can I come?”

He yanks his head again, stroking his cock with his own hand. “Go ahead, but let me come down your throat. I want you to feel me.”

Without hesitation, you take him back into your mouth again and start sucking even harder. Your index slides in and out of you at a steady pace, while Spencer’s moans are echoing through the bathroom and ringing in your head.

His fingers tighten on your hair and a litany of pleas leaves Spencer’s mouth.

“Yes, yes, yes... Fuck, pretty girl.”

You moan around him when you hit that spot inside of you and you close your eyes, completely lost in your pleasure and in the sensation of being nothing but an object for him.

“Such a naughty pretty girl I have right here, huh?” – Spencer says with a smirk, moving his hips back and forth – “Is that what you were doing two days ago? Were you thinking about me using my fingers to fuck you? To stretch you out for my cock?”

Whining against his cock, you release a frustrated moan. It’s difficult to ease the throbbing desire inside of you while you’re also sucking his dick, but Spencer thinks you’re doing amazing.

He’s closer than you think, he’s just good at hiding it.

“Come for me, pretty doll. Let me see how pretty you are while you come on your own fingers.”

You whimper with your eyes settled on his face, pumping your fingers at the same pace he’s fucking your mouth. You can feel the pleasure beginning to spread all over your body and in a few seconds, the orgasm takes control over you.

Pulling away from his cock, you rock your hips against your own hand and let the desire drive you off the edge. Just thinking of Spencer fingering you and then fucking you nice and well, like you dreamed off a little too many times in the last two days, sent you over the edge.

Spencer, who has taken a step back to admire his pretty girl come, touches himself in slow strokes – he doesn’t want to come until he’s back in your throat.

And when you’re done, when you open your eyes and immediately crawl towards him, Spencer pushes his cock back into your mouth.

“Such a greedy little thing. You drive me crazy, pretty girl.”- Spencer says, running his fingers through your hair – “I’m coming. Please, m-make me come.”

Hollowing your cheeks, you feel him twitching into your mouth. Soon enough, Spencer comes in a rush that leaves him shaking, panting hard and whispering your name over and over again like a broken record.

You wish you could frame this moment forever.

His broken voice, his chest heaving, his hands tightening around your head.

Everything is heightened due to your previous orgasm.

You wish this moment never ends as you swallow his arousal, cleaning everything you can before he throws his head back and allows the water to drench you again.

“Holy fuck, pretty girl.”

That’s all Spencer can say before you get back up from the floor and cover his mouth with your own, kissing him with such passion to leave him breathless. Spencer can taste his own arousal on your tongue and he doesn’t care, because it tastes way better on your lips.

You wrap your arms around his neck and you pull him underneath the stream of hot water, making him giggle and turn his head to the side.

“Hot water is good for muscle relaxation because it relieves body tension and can help soothe muscle fatigue.” – you whisper against his cheek, closing your eyes – “I think we both need it for tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

You nod, brushing the water off your face. “This is not over, Spencer Reid. A simple blowjob is not enough for me, and something tells me it’s not enough for you either.”

Spencer answers you by kissing your mouth again, pressing you to the cold wall behind you. “We’ll see what’s going to happen tomorrow. Christmas day might become my new favourite holiday after Halloween.”

Chuckling, you close the distance between your bodies again and kiss him.

NSFW taglist:

@softreidx @getyoutmoon @bookishspencer @calm-and-doctor @reidswhore @nazifa94 @srhxpci @eevee0722 @reichelhache @aperrywilliams @escapingrealities @beepbooptoop ​@anime-for-live @alfonsais @lil-stark @muffin-cup @allexthakatt @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @nomajdetective @gyllord @winterwhore @pauline5525mgg @hotchandspencearedilfs @matthewgraygublerwife @Jadealicious06 @avocadopenguins @reidsmilf @bohemianrhapsody86 @joy-soul-gallery @matthewgraygublerlover @sweetandsunny @starrylang @void-m-stilinski @alexxavicry @addievermore @luckysuitcaseheroroad @safespacespence @enchantedengland @baby-reid

[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."

[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✌️

[asset35-maya]

I am sleepy but I gotta make a request before the busy tomorrow so 2 things on my mind! Sleepy and the 'oh my god they were roomates' vine xD with any characters and aus I love everything you write anyways xD Happy timezones and best vibes your way >^<!! 💖💞💕💕

Oh my god, they were roommates…

//

“The rental market in Detroit is absolute shit! How dare these bloodsuckers charge such high rates for the most under-developed properties! This city’s going to the dogs!”

“Uh-huh.”

“You have to pay your own weight in gold just to live in a shoebox for a year. Nonsense!”

“Uh…”

“Are you even listening to me, Tina!

Tina?

Goddamnit Tina!”

Gavin thumped his fist on her desk, but Tina’s eyes barely flicked up from her phone.

“Oh my god, you sound like my grandpa…”

Gavin turned red and his brain buzzed with a thousand colourful retorts. He was just about to pick one when Tina stopped scrolling and turned her phone screen towards him.

CYBERSCALIA @ NEW JERICHO

The suburban paradise for executive androids and humans alike. Located 25 minutes drive from downtown Detroit, with a full amenities.

Gavin’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. He balked at her.

“You’re joking? How could I possibly…?”

“Get with the times, boomer…”

Tina lazily skimmed her thumb over the screen. The webpage promised plenty of greenery, good infrastructure and modest but spacious rooms. The extremely reasonable price tag was Gavin’s dream come true. He’d spent weeks apartment hunting in the wake of an early lease termination by his cantankerous landlord. Gavin knew he’d never find a better deal.

“Shit, this is so good, T! Why the phck does it have to be in that- that place!”

His friend arched a sceptical eyebrow.

“What place?”

“The Tincan ghetto!”

Tina smacked him on the arm. None too gently.

“It’s subsided public housing located in an android-friendly estate… because they’re the ones that need it most right now. And frankly, you seem to be in just as much need, so you should really get off that high horse.”

“Fine, fine. You’re right. I should seriously consider this place, even if my neighbours are gonna have more in common with my car than me. But damn, it seems a little too good to be true. There’s probably some fine print, hidden costs that’ll come out later.”

“Hmm… let’s see…”

Tina scrolled further and then let out a half-laugh. She held her phone up again.

“Nothing shady about the rates, but there is something you should know…”

At the risk of being called old again, Gavin squinted at the screen and read aloud.

“Bearing in mind the founding principles of New Jericho, all human occupants may only apply for tenancy in co-habitation with at least one android citizen of the United States of- JESUS PHCKING CHRIST! Absolutely not! I am not going to live with a plastic prick!”

//

Gavin had to get through half a bottle of wine before he could bear to scroll through the rental listings. Unlike other humans who had happily moved into New Jericho with their android friends or partners, he had to find an android who was also looking for a flatmate.

Some listings came from ardent supporters of Markus. These were the androids who wanted to ease the post-revolution transition by reaching out to humans. Some listings were put up by the android equivalent of frat boys. These individuals were clearly looking for someone on the fringes of human society, someone who could show them a good (if not illegal) time.

Other posts came from eccentric androids who craved company but had likely been rejected by their own kind. Gavin felt a strange twisting sensation, almost like pity, when he came across a post written entirely in third person by someone called Ralph.

He had almost given up hope when he came across a simple little listing for a two bedroom apartment in Cyberscalia.

RK900 #313 248 317 - 87: Seeking a neat, self-sufficient co-renter. Human or android, no preference. I spend most of my time working and will be out of your way for the better part of the day. I only ask for silence during my nighttime stasis cycles, timely payment of dues and upkeep of cleanliness.

Gavin sighed in relief.

//

“Your room is the first door on the left, mine is the second. The bathroom, laundry and kitchenette are shared, as is the living room. I scarcely find use for the latter, so you need not worry about my intruding on any of your social gatherings, or vice versa. As long as you adhere to the terms of the agreement, our paths will not cross much.”

The tall, stiff-necked android dropped a set of keys, both mechanical and digital, into Gavin’s open palm.

“Er thanks.. RK… sorry I forgot your full model number…”

“You may call me Nines. Although, I’d rather you didn’t call me much of anything. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

In a swish of black fabric, the android turned on his heel and disappeared into his room. Two rapid clicks indicated the shutting and locking of his door.

Gavin sighed and looked around the open-plan living room. It was nothing fancy, but it was far beyond any of the other properties he’d viewed in weeks of unsuccessful house-hunting.

He sat down on the simple black couch with a huff and contemplated his situation. He’d ended up where he’d truly never expected to go, but objectively speaking, things were good… barring the high-handed manner of his robot flatmate, but who gave a shit about that.

He pulled out his phone to text Tina his thanks.

//

“I can’t! I refuse to! It is a violation of my personal ethics and I will simply not take this assignment any further. Good day to you sir!”

Gavin nearly dropped his bowl of cereal one morning when his roommate burst out of his door and rushed into the open balcony.

He hadn’t seen Nines in days, which was perfectly normal. The android came and went at odd hours and made hardly any noise. It was almost like living alone. The only reminder of Nines’ presence was the sight of several dark shirts and trousers regularly hung out to dry on the rack above the washing machine.

Gavin set his bowl down and watched the android tightly grip the bars of the railing and take several unnecessary breaths to calm down. He’d seen deviant colleagues express emotion many times before, but this was the first time he witnessed such a potent mixture of rage and sorrow from a synthetic being.

Out of empathy, but mostly curiosity, Gavin approached cautiously.

“Hey Nines… is everything alright…?”

There was no response for several moments. Then Nines turned around with a grimace and hands held upwards in a placating gesture.

“I apologise for the disturbance. It was hypocritical of me to disrupt the very peace and quiet I demand of you.”

“Uh… no worries…? Are you okay?”

There was a flash of steel blue eyes.

Gavin kicked himself mentally as he realised too late that he’d broached uncharted territory. Their interactions didn’t extend beyond curt nods on the rare occasion they found each other in the same space. It was almost as if Nines engineered the lack of contact, which wouldn’t surprise Gavin at all if it were the case.

“I’m fine. I merely experienced some frustration with my work.”

Perhaps it was boredom, perhaps it was his usual lack of self-preservative instinct… Gavin threw caution to the winds.

“What do you actually do?”

Nines’ expression remained stoic but his LED went through a spectacular series of colours and flashes. His next words were reluctant.

“I’m a private investigator.”

“Oh shit! I’m actually a cop.”

Gavin pointed dumbly at himself and then let his hand drop when he saw absolutely no surprise cross the android’s face.

“I know. That’s why I let you stay with me.”

“For safety?”

“Certainly not for your fashion sense.”

“Wow okay, I didn’t think I’d be much protection for a big scary droid like you.”

Nines hummed dismissively and started to move out of the balcony, body language fully indicating the end of the conversation.

Unable to help himself for some strange reason, Gavin blurted out another ill-advised question.

“What pissed you off so much?”

Nines paused halfway through side-stepping the human. A thrill went through Gavin at the shards of ice he observed for the first time up close in Nines’ irises.

“If I tell you, will you promise to stop asking pointless questions?”

Gavin nodded earnestly, and frankly… rather foolishly.

“I helped a client gather evidence to initiate divorce proceedings on the grounds of infidelity. I provided ample photo and video evidence for his lawyers to work with. Now they want me to keep following the spouse to capture more details that could gear any future settlement in his favour.”

“So what’s your problem?”

“They’re offering me an incredible amount of cash to follow her 24/7. To stake out her workplace, her gym, her parent’s home. They want me to crouch under the window of the bedroom where her children sleep. I can do a lot of things, but not that. It’s deeply insulting that they even asked. That’s why I was so… pissed.”

Nines slipped past and was nearly back to his bedroom when Gavin spoke.

“I respect that.”

“I didn’t ask.”

“I know, but for real though, I think ethics are important in our line of work. Not just because of we need morals or a sense of right or wrong blablabla, but because we need… clarity.”

Silence floated through the hallway as Nines paused with a hand on his doorframe.

“Clarity?”

“Yeah, like a sense of direction. We don’t just take cases right-left-centre because they make us money. I mean, we could, and people do… but they never become specialists or experts of any kind. You gotta strategise if you want a career. Ethics helps with that. I think…”

Gavin wasn’t sure what made him say any of that. He was neither one for small talk, nor a man of many words… but something about Nines prompted that unusual level of introspective discourse.

“Sorry that was weird. Never mind.”

“That was actually… very astute.”

Their eyes met and Gavin could’ve sworn he saw the hint of a smile.

“It’s good to see that not all humans are as one-dimensional as I thought.”

The door clicked shut, but there was no locking sound.

//

Since the morning of Nines’ uncharacteristic outburst, the frequency of their encounters in the common areas of the apartment increased. Wordless nods became hellos, and hellos eventually became full sentences.

Not that he’d admit it, Gavin actually looked forward to enquiring about the android’s day and the cases he was working on. It was utterly fascinating to hear about legal investigations without the constraints of police procedure.

For his part, Nines would share as much as he had the patience to, before disappearing into the confines of his room. Though the time he spent outside steadily increased every day.

Another morning, while Gavin was making his coffee, Nines emerged from his room, still in his pyjamas and looking as livid as he had the time before. Gavin had never seen him in anything but crisply ironed businesswear. Before he could voice any concern, Nines stiffly asked Gavin to keep a lookout for a homicide suspect.

He nodded and immediately reached for his phone to text the sergeant on duty at his station. By midday, there was an arrest.

That evening, when Gavin settled in front of the TV with his usual glass of wine, he heard the familiar sound of Nines’ door opening. The couch dipped beside him.

“Thank you.”

“Just did my job. I should thank you for the tip.”

“Hmm.”

Gavin chanced a glance at his roommate, and found him looking right back.

“What?”

“Nothing… I just had the realisation that much of my work is impotent without the authority and means to take any kind of action.”

The sitcom began to play and Gavin thumbed the remote to reduce the volume.

“Takes all kinds to keep the streets clean. PIs can do things cops can’t. We rely on guys like you for intel all the time, you know.”

“I know.”

No words were exchanged for a while thereafter. Gavin found himself unable to focus on the TV show with all the brooding energy emanating from his right.

“If you feel like being a private eye doesn’t make enough of a difference, then why didn’t you… um… you know…”

“Join law enforcement?”

“Yup.”

“Plenty of my fellow androids have done so. I know for a fact that my predecessor model chose to remain there. You might know him.”

“Connor? Yes. Very annoying.”

“He is, isn’t he?”

“Totally. But why didn’t you join too? You’d be brilliant on the Force.”

“My skillset is certainly well-suited, but I didn’t want to become another puppet of the state.”

Gavin really didn’t know what to say to that. He nodded uncertainly and looked back at the television. He wasn’t sure why Nines was suddenly this social.

“What are you… watching?”

Androids could scan and detect just about anything in the world, so there had to be something else to the question. Gavin, strangely, was happy to oblige.

//

Nines made an appearance every evening, without fail. He would sit through the TV shows if they were of interest, or he would bring his case material and notes to the coffee table to work in silence beside Gavin.

Sometimes Gavin liked to work on jigsaw puzzles on the dining table. Nines would sit beside him, pretending to read a paperback novel, but actually scanning the puzzle and passing the right pieces over from time to time.

Against all odds, an evening ritual and a tentative friendship developed. It was simple, but it was warm. Comfortable. Like nothing Gavin had ever had before, even with humans.

//

He awoke one morning with a slight crick in his neck but the feeling of being very well-rested.

His eyes flickered open and fell upon the window. Familiar greenery came into view… but wait… had everything slightly shifted to the left? And was that the New Jericho Capitol building? He couldn’t see that from his room! There was a tree in the way! A tree that was now a few feet away from where it used to be.

Gavin sat up in alarm as he realised that he was not in his own bed. His heart flew into his throat as Nines walked through the open doorway. Shirtless and carrying a mug of blue liquid.

“Oh good, you’re up.”

“Wha-what happened!?”

Nines frowned and sat down on the edge of the bed. He set the mug on the floor and pulled on a plain black t-shirt.

“You passed out on the couch last night. I think you finished a whole bottle waiting up for me? Sorry, I was out working later than expected.”

Gavin looked down and sighed in relief as he found all his clothes still on him.

“I didn’t want you to injure yourself sleeping at an odd angle so I brought you here. Your door was locked.”

“You could’ve easily opened it.”

“Yes, but that would’ve been an invasion of privacy. I reserve that for working hours alone.”

Gavin looked deep into the sparkling blue eyes and as usual found no trace of humour.

“Thanks…”

“Don’t mention it. Now get out. You’re ruining my silk sheets.”

//

Against his best efforts, Gavin could not keep the thought of being carried to bed and tucked in safely out of his mind. How many years had it been? Since something like that had been even remotely possible for him?

He knew that Nines was just being kind in his own pragmatic little way… but Gavin found that he wouldn’t mind the prospect of waking up in the android’s bed in a wildly different context.

He realised he had it bad when Tina caught him smiling to himself at work one day.

“Why so happy?”

“Oh… nothing. Just remembered something my roommate did… He’s a… funny guy.”

“Huh. Well, look at you getting along so well with androids.”

“Android. Singular. Just him.”

“Wowwww… he sounds special.”

//

“Who did this?”

“Gavin, the damage is merely superficial-”

“Who phcking did this??!”

He reached forward and gingerly touched Nines’ split cheek. His synth skin was smeared with blue blood and glitching in and out. Nines winced at the contact.

“Shit, sorry. That must hurt like a bitch.”

“Androids do not feel pain.”

“Bullshit.”

“I’m merely experiencing a surge in sensory input wherever my chassis is exposed. I’m fine.”

“Shut up and give me your first aid kit or whatever toolbox equivalent you tincans have.”

A shade of embarrassment appeared over the android’s features.

“I… actually don’t have one. I didn’t think I’d ever need it.”

“Didn’t think anyone could kick your ass, huh?”

“No… I didn’t think anyone would ever spot my hiding place.”

“Huh. How’d that happen?”

Nines’ eyes dipped, but as always, he answered the question.

“I was… distracted.”

Something in the air solidified and both of them felt it. Gavin cleared his throat and slapped his knees like an old man about to stand up.

“Right. Let me go check if the neighbours have anything that might help with your face.”

//

“So who’s this dapper young gent you’ve brought to the party, Gavin?”

“Er… he’s my uh… roommate.”

Captain Fowler nodded and winked.

“That’s what they called it in my day too.”

Nines shifted beside Gavin and cleared his throat.

“He’s a PI. But I think he’s wasting his talent taking pictures of cheating spouses. He’s quite interested in police work. Maybe we could get him to assist on a couple cases now and then?”

Fowler put down his drink and extended a warm hand to Nines.

//

“Oh thank RA9!”

Nines came running to the cluster of police cars and enveloped him in a giant hug. Gavin laughed as he patted him weakly on the back.

“Watch the ribs, big guy.”

“I was so worried.”

“Why? Your info was good. No chance of error.”

“I meant about you.”

Gavin pulled back and regarded Nines with confusion. The flashing red and blue lights of the cars made it hard to read his LED.

“Why?”

“I can’t believe you have to ask.”

The android pulled him into a bruising kiss. The officers standing nearby broke into wolf-whistles and applause.

“What the-”

“Oh I take full credit for that, sir.”

Fowler glanced at Tina.

“The case, Chen?”

“Oh of course. I solved the whole thing. But I mean that specifically.”

She waved a hand in Gavin and Nines’ direction. The two held each other tightly and seemed unlikely to come up for air anytime soon.

“Like I helped Gav find an affordable place in New Jericho and then he met this handsome investigator droid and they were roommates.”

“Oh my god, they were roommates…”

“Yeah legit.”

//

\\\

Thanks so much for the request @jude-shotto

This ended up being a lot longer than expected, but I couldn’t help it. Your prompt just took me on a whole journeyyyy <3

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Heart-Shaped Box💟9/End

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), forced pregnancy, some violence, intimidation, some elements untagged for sake of plot.

This is dark!Bucky Barnes x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Sister Series: Get Your Fix

Summary: You accept a job as an au pair, but not all is as it seems.

Note: Finally finishing this one up. Sorry it took me ages but I’m doing my best to go back and wrap up whatever I can.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Masterlist

Bucky pulled out of you as he held your head down, bouncing the bed beneath you as he pushed himself onto his back. You panted as your sweat dampened the sheet beneath you and he leaked between your thighs. You winced as you rolled onto your side and slowly sat up. 

He had you whining loud enough that you had no doubt your guests heard it all. It only seemed to encourage his partner-in-crime as you soon heard a similar scene on the other side of the wall. You were sickened by that noise and stood warily as you cupped your hand over your cunt and scooped up his cum before it could drip onto the floor.

“I told you to keep it down,” he snickered and sat up, his muscled back to you as he stretched his arms above him, “get the shower started, I’ll be in shortly. You girls have a lot of work to do today.”

You grumbled and dragged your feet to the attached bathroom. The low buzz of the pipes filled the silence and you stepped under the steamy water. The moment of calm broke sharply as Bucky appeared from the other side of the curtain and stepped in behind you. He had you clean him with a lathered loofah and you bore it only for the eventuality of time away from him.

The other woman meant you wouldn’t be trapped with just him. It was little help or hope but it was better than your former solitary torture.

You dressed in black dress with daisies and made yourself look like his perfect housewife. You couldn’t hold the smile and make him believe it all the way but he wouldn’t anyway. He flicked your chin and clicked his tongue.

“Mmm, you’re getting there,” he mused as he dropped his hand and reached around to slap your ass, “better go get breakfast on. I’ll check in on our guests.” He squeezed and winked, “be a good girl.”

Those words made your insides curdled but you swallowed your disgust and nodded, “yes, sir.”

He stepped out behind you and watched you go down the hall to the stairs and you heard him knock on the door as you descended. You went to the kitchen and pulled out the frying pan and the coconut oil. You lined up the ingredients for crepes on the counter and took two bananas from the yellow bunch. Your mother used to make the oversweet delicacy and you needed a reminder that you were still that girl.

You stopped as you searched for something to keep the crepes warm after you assembled them, a lid that could fit over the plate or something akin to it. The lower cupboards you rarely opened. Bucky left the cleaning supplies on the counter with your chore list every day and you never bothered to look for anything else.

You stopped and stared at the drain cleaner and the can of toxic oven spray. Well, that wouldn’t be subtle enough, would it? They’d smell either of those a mile away. Anything under the counter would be easily discovered but it did give you an idea.

You closed the wooden door and went back to your task. You heard the voices in the next room and the scrape of the chairs on the floor. Steve’s girl appeared in the doorway, rubbing her stomach as her face contorted.

“Smells sweet,” she said as you simmered the bananas with brown sugar, cinnamon, and a little butter, “almost too sweet.”

“Morning sickness?” you asked innocently.

“All the time sickness,” she sighed, “anything I can help with?”

“Do you know how to make crepes?” you asked as you whisked the batter.

“Not really,” she shrugged, “but I can learn.”

“It’s easy. Takes less than a minute,” you waved her over and tested the temperature of the pan with a flick of water, “so you wanna put just a little batter in…” you ladled in a careful dollop and lifted the pan, “you spread it like this,” you tilted it so the batter spread all around, “you just use the spatula a little on the edges to make sure they don’t stick and you flip.”

It was like second nature and she nodded quietly as she watched. The crepe cooked quickly and you threw it onto a plate and put the pan back to the burner.

“You think you can handle that?” you covered the plate with the lid of a pat to keep it warm. “Then we put some of the bananas and wrap them, bit of cream on top and some icing sugar…”

“You like to cook?” she wondered as she added batter to the hot pan.

“Not particularly, but my mother taught me,” you shrugged, “she can cook anything.”

“Oh,” she flipped the crepe and glanced at the door, “I suppose… it keeps him happy.”

“He’s never happy,” you murmured and cleared your throat, “so, you must be excited to move in!”

“I guess,” she slid the crepe onto the plate as you lifted the foggy lid, “you know how it is.”

You smiled and she tilted her head as she squinted at you. You went to the drawer where there was a box of blank recipe cards and continued speaking as you fished out a pencil from another.

“It’s always nice to get settled,” you said as you wrote, ‘they can hear us’.

“I suppose, nice to be in one place,” she replied stiffly as her features relaxed.

‘I have a plan,’ you wrote and raised your voice just slightly, “oh, you know, we didn’t even get you a housewarming gift. I’ll have to remind James.”

You went to the burner and held out the card under the coil until it caught. You threw it into the sink and watched it burn and curl. You ran water over it as it turned to ash and washed it away. You nudged the bowl towards her and leaned on the counter, “need help with that?”

“No,” she said as she started again, “I’m getting the hang of it.”

💟

You looked around the front room of the house next door. Steve’s girl opened one of the stacked boxes. For once, the men were gone and you could just enjoy their absence. 

Bucky agreed that a gift was in order and Steve had mentioned wanting to explore their new hometown. You tried not to seem eager but even the small walk across the lawns enlivened you. How long had it been since you’d been outside?

You started with the pictures. You left the frames in a stack as she assured you Steve would put the nails in and hang them. Then you moved onto the kitchenware and you kept her from lifting the heavy box of dishes. She seemed to forget about her condition and the reminder made her frown.

You stood behind the counter and set the dishes in the cupboards one at a time, the plates clacking one on top of each other. She watched from the other side as she arranged the silverware in the plastic tray.

“Can you do me a favour?” you asked as you kept on.

“What?” she asked as she dropped a butter knife with the rest.

“I know they’ve locked us in but can you check the garage door? Can we get in there?” you asked evenly.

“What?” she blinked and pushed herself straight, “even if we can, they won’t have been stupid enough--”

“That’s not what I’m worried about. I know we can’t get out that way either. It’s the same at our house. Everything is bolted up tight.” You assured her, “just go and check while I get these sorted.”

She left you and you snapped shut the door and finished with the utensils. You slid the tray into the drawer as she returned, rubbing her stomach.

“Yeah, we can get in but it’s mostly empty,” she said, “so…”

“Mostly empty?”

“Yeah, just the car--”

“The car,” you rounded the counter and curled two fingers for her to follow you.

You headed for the plain white door that led to the garage. You hopped down the steps as she remained at the top and watched you tentatively. You went to the car as she crossed her arms.

“He took the keys,” she said.

You tried the handle and the door opened. “I know,” you said as you put a knee in the front seat and peered into the back. Nothing. 

You felt around under the dash and found the lever for the trunk. You pulled it and it popped. You shut the door and went around the back of the car. You felt around the spare tire and your hand felt something plastic. You grabbed the handle of the half-filled jug and pulled it out.

“Hey,” you held up the bright blue anti-freeze, “do you wanna cook dinner here tonight? A housewarming dinner?”

Her brows knitted and she gave a long blink. Her lips parted then curved.

“You can’t mean--” she let out a scoff.

“It’s sweet. Hopefully they won’t notice if I add enough sugar to the cake,” you breathed, “we can’t let them settle. This is our chance.”

“I don’t-- I don’t know. What if it doesn’t work?”

“Then we’re still in the same boat,” you turned your free hand out, “that man has drugged me for months. I think it’s only fair that he gets a taste of his own medicine.”

She swallowed and looked down at her stomach. She inhaled and cradled her bump. “It can’t get worse than this, can it?”

💟

You spent the day unpacking, the distraction not much of one as you thought of the bottle you hid at the back of the cupboard. By the time the men returned, you were ready to move onto the second floor. 

Bucky offered a bottle of non-alcoholic wine and basket of expensive macarons as your gift to your new neighbours. He forced a kiss from you before he let you follow Steve’s girl upstairs.

You sat in the bedroom and heard the men ascend shortly after. You peeked in on them as you opened the linen closet to shove in the spare sheets. They were hammering together a crib. You knocked lightly on the doorframe as you watched them.

“Huh, what’s going on?” Bucky looked up from the directions.

“Um, we were just… thinking, we could have dinner here tonight? A little housewarmer? I could grab some ingredients from ours--”

“Give me a list, I’ll grab it,” Bucky puffed as he bent to help hold the rail in place for Steve, “that sound okay?”

“Fine by me,” Steve smiled, “it’ll be nice to have our feet on solid ground.”

You left them and returned to your only ally as she sat on the bed and stared at a packet of pills. She crushed it in her grasp and huffed. She flicked away tears with her knuckles. She tossed them over her shoulder.

“He kept them,” she snarled, “it’s like he’s mocking me.”

“What?” you neared her and sat carefully beside her.

“I never… I worked with him, you know? He brought me these drinks and I didn’t realise he was dosing them. The stuff, it made me itchy… it made me so hot and I just needed anything. I hopped on him I was so desperate and-- I told him to stay away. I realised what he’d done and I told him to leave me alone and you know what he did,” she crossed her arms over her stomach.

“No, I--” you touched her elbow.

“He broke into my apartment and replaced my pills. And he didn’t leave me alone,” she spat, “he did this all and he still has the goddamn pills like they’re some sort of trophy.”

She hung her head and grunted in frustration. You leaned against her and put your arm over her shoulders. She let you and the tension drained from her body.

“Even if we get out…” she whispered, “I’ll always have this piece of him.”

She pressed her palms to her stomach and you frowned. There was nothing you could do or say. You’d been lucky so far, even if it only fed your suffering. You didn’t have another life to worry about.

“We don’t have to if--”

“I want to,” she hissed lowly, “I want him dead.”

💟

Usually, you tasted the icing and licked the spoon. Not that night. The blue shade of the frosting was anything but suspicious as you spread it over the fluffy cake. It was a perfect disguise. You topped it with blueberries to add to the theme and dusted on a few coloured sprinkles. You stood back and admired your work as the smell of garlic filled the kitchen.

“I know it’s not much,” Steve’s girl said as she stirred the sauce, “but it’s what I can manage.”

“I’m sure it’s great,” you said as you took the meatballs of the burner and tested the spaghetti, “noodles are perfect.”

You strained the pasta and helped pour the meatballs into the sauce. You mixed it up and poured it into a large glass dish and the noodles into another. You brought them out to the table and called the men to dinner before you fetched the wine, both alcoholic and not.

Steve’s girl sat as you poured a glass for each of you and the men sat. You set the bottle down and nestled in next to Bucky as he served himself. When the plates were full, the other woman nudged Steve and whispered in his ear.

He cleared his throat and stood, “um, I know it’s just us but I guess I should say thank you for all the help and we’re excited to be neighbours… can’t wait for the kids to be running around these halls together.”

“Mmm,” Bucky lifted his glass, “hopefully…” he muttered doubtfully and looked at you, “that better be what she’s having,” he nodded to your glass.

You held it out for him to sniff and he gave you a sour look. He tutted and sat back to twirl noodles around his fork as he set aside his glass. You took a sip of the gutless wine and speared a meatball on your tines. You chewed and looked at Steve’s girl. She let Steve rub her thigh under the table and forced a smile.

She was playing it well and you felt as if you would fall apart. You felt as if Bucky would see right through you the minute you walked in with the cake. What would he do then? Steve couldn’t hurt his girl, she had the baby, but you, Bucky could replace you still. Maybe that was for the best but it didn’t mean you weren’t scared shitless.

You cleared the plates and retreated to the kitchen. Just you. You’d gone over it, you didn’t want them to catch on. You didn’t get too close with them around, you acted like strangers, you really were after all.

You sliced the cake into careful portions and came out with two plates at a time. You put them in front of each chair and sat. As you did, Steve’s girl covered her mouth and gagged. She pushed herself up unsteadily.

“Honey?” Steve asked as he rubbed her lower back.

“It’s the baby I--” she gulped sickeningly, “I gotta--”

She rushed out and Steve gave a look, “nausea. It’s been like this for weeks.”

“I’m going to make sure she’s okay,” you stood, “go ahead and start without us.”

You went down the hall and as you neared the bathroom, Steve’s girl opened the door and pulled you inside. She looked genuinely sick and you smelled vomit on her breath. She turned and rinsed her mouth and shuddered. 

“I didn’t actually feel sick until I got in here,” she wiped her face with the hand cloth, “when I realised--”

“Everything’s in the trunk,” you assured her, “once they’re out, we get the keys and go.”

“How do we know--”

“Retch,” you hissed, “we wait until we’re sure.”

She gave an exaggerated hurl and you heard the clink of porcelain and silver and the drone of voices. You listened through the door as she watched you in the tight space of the half-bath.

“I’m thinking about getting her an… exam,” Bucky’s deep tone carried, “maybe she can’t…”

You let out the breath you were holding and closed your eyes. Just a little longer. 

When you heard a sudden lull, your eyes rounded and you turned the handle and let yourself out into the hall. She crept close behind as you peered through the open archway. Both men had their faces on their plates in the crumbs of vanilla cake and smears of blue icing.

“Let’s go,” you went to Steve and shoved your hand into his pocket, “shit, they’re not here.”

“Here!” she pulled her hand from his jacket hung on the rack, “you think they’re dead?”

You looked from one to the other and shakily felt along Steve’s neck. “Still a pulse. I think maybe… they’re only knocked out.”

“The serum,” she shook her head, “means we have to go quick.”

You hurried after her and followed her down into the garage. She climbed into the driver’s seat and moved it back as her stomach pressed to the wheel. You got in the other side as your body trembled with adrenaline. She hit the button attached to the keys and the door slowly raised behind her.

As she reversed, you felt a sudden shock around your neck and yiped. You’d forgotten entirely about the necklace. She stopped suddenly and watched you writhe in agony.

“Shit, shit,” you leaned forward until the shock stopped, “the necklace.”

“Fuck,” she reached for it and you batted her away.

“No, you’ll get zapped,” you gasped as you pulled on it desperately. It was too tight to get past your chin but too strong to snap. 

She took the keys out and tossed them in your lap. You lifted them and twisted the necklace around the house key but there was no give. You sobbed and dropped your hand.

“I can’t,” you looked at the bent key, “you gotta go without me.”

“What? No, I can’t--”

“You have a baby,” you said as tears burned in your eyes and your throat tightened, “go, please.” You dropped the keys on the dash and opened the door. “I can’t--”

“No, you have to come with me,” she begged.

“No, you have to go before they wake up,” you got out as you grasped your neck, the searing pain still hot on your flesh, “I’ll… I’ll survive. I have this far.”

“N--”

“Shut up!” you slammed the door and hit the hood, “go!”

She stared at you and her lip quivered. She gave you one last sad look and grabbed the keys. She sniffed as she gripped the wheel and backed out down the drive. 

You fell to your knees and sat back on your ass as you watched her drive away. You shook your head and held it in your hands as you sat behind the invisible wall of your prison.

The tires screamed at the end of the street and the noise of the engine faded into the distance. You laid on your back across the concrete and covered your face with your arm. At least you could live with knowing you got her out. Well, you couldn’t really say you’d be living. You’d be alive but little more than that. 

But you’d survive knowing that you kept one person from that pitiful fate. Even if it wasn’t you. Even if you knew that you would pay for it in the end. Even when those men woke up and found you laying in the garage, the sweet flavour of antifreeze on their tongues as the bile of their anger overflowed and drowned you. 

You couldn’t do anything but wait. If you were lucky, they might just kill you and that in itself would be freedom.

💟 💟 💟

END

[secretobsessionstuff]

Getting food poisoning by plane food and stuck on a long flight? Any couple you want :))

The flight was 18 hours long. Dinner was served at the four-hour mark, leaving plenty of time for the tainted food to turn everyone’s stomachs. Micah was excluded from this pain however because he didn’t order the chicken dish. Alexi did and he was suffering for it.

The plane’s cabin was dark when Alexi opened his eyes, save for a few lights that the other passengers kept on. He didn’t know why anyone else would be awake at 2am but he knew why he was awake. The weight on his shoulder from his sleeping boyfriend was nothing compared to the weight that settled in his stomach. Alexi grimaced as he shifted around in the small space, trying not to wake Micah who always had a hard time falling asleep in anything that wasn’t his bed.

But Alexi couldn’t help it. He woke up with such discomfort in his whole body that he couldn’t help but fidget. It was the nausea that made him the most restless. He was beyond grateful that his only neighbour was Micah. They specifically chose a row with only two seats because the flight went through the night. Alexi thought he’d be happy to not have a snoring neighbour, but he was actually relived that no stranger would be disturbed by his growling stomach.

And it was growling so loud, but not out of hunger. He could still taste the spices and the sauce from the chicken in his mouth. He was absolutely not in the mood for a midnight snack.

The nausea got worse as he struggled to fall back asleep. His gurgling belly wouldn’t let him finish his rest. The discomfort made him lean forward with his arms wrapped around his middle. As Alexi bent forward in pain, Micah’s head fell from his shoulder.

“Mm?” Micah mumbled as he caught himself. It almost wasn’t enough to disturb his sleep, but then he heard Alexi moan. Seeing Alexi bent over in pain also roused him from his sleep rather quick. “What’s wrong?” His voice was beautifully rough. Micah did always like how his voice sounded first thing in the morning.

“Sorry,” Alexi whispered. He’d be lying if he said that he wasn’t a little happy to have company again. “I can’t sleep…Feel sick.”

Micah turned on the light above their heads. Harsh yellow light rained down on them, giving Alexi a sickly complexion. Or maybe he already looked like that. Funnily enough, a few other lights also clicked on throughout the cabin. It seemed other passengers weren’t having the best night either, but Micah didn’t care about the other passengers.

“You’re very pale, baby.” Micah put his hand on Alexi’s warm back. “Are you nauseous?”

With his head in his hands, Alexi nodded slowly. “I really don’t feel good.” A wet burp ended the sentence.

“Do you want to put your head on my shoulder and try to sleep?”

This time Alexi shook his head a bit more frantically. A long gurgle rumbled through his belly as he let out another belch. He shivered from the nausea. “Ugh, I’m so full. It’s like my whole dinner is just sitting in my stomach, rotting.”

Alexi wasn’t far from the truth. It wasn’t long before a flight attendant came over to their seats and confirmed both of their suspicions. The man had been apparently going to every passenger with their light on to say the same thing. “I’m guessing there’s someone feeling sick over here as well. Am I right?”

“Yes, sir,” Micah said, trying to match the man’s loud whisper. “My boyfriend is sick to his stomach.”

“It appears that the chicken dish has given many people food poisoning. I’m sincerely sorry,” the man said, looking around nervously. “Someone will come by with extra bags and ginger ale.”

Alexi groaned upon hearing this. He suddenly felt like the food in his belly was no longer sitting still. He slapped a hand over his mouth as another wet belch reminded him of the taste of dinner. “Micah…let me out. I’m going to puke.”

“There’s probably a crazy line for the bathroom. Just throw up in this bag.” He handed Alexi the barf bag from the seat in front of them.

Alexi sat on the edge of his seat, bouncing his leg so hard that other people might have thought it was turbulence. “I can’t. There’s so much in my stomach. I want a toilet.” His voice cracked as he tried to hold back tears. “…please.”

The tears that finally fell onto Alexi’s cheeks made Micah move. “Fine, but I’m coming with you and I’m bringing this bag.”

With unsteady legs, Alexi jogged down the aisle. He felt Micah’s hand on his shoulders the whole way there. They passed other people who looked as bad as Alexi felt.

Just as Micah guessed, they stopped before getting to the bathroom. The line was so long that they still stood in the aisle, awkwardly waiting next to passengers in their seats.

“Oh God,” Alexi whimpered. There was no more time to wait. He tried to hold back burps that he knew would set everything off.

He turned around and looked at Micah with pleading eyes. “What do I do? There’s all these people. What do I—” A low wet burp escaped while he spoke. Honestly, it was more of a gag than a burp because it splashed the back of Alexi’s throat with something thick.

“Okay,” Micah said worriedly, “I’m sorry, Lex, but you’re doing this here.”

Micah hurriedly opened the barf bag and held it open under Alexi’s chin until the boy held it himself. He pulled Alexi’s closer as if he were giving him a hug. This wasn’t a hug; it was the best privacy that Micah could give his boyfriend.

“Let it out, Lexi.” Micah wrapped his arms around his boyfriend while Alexi gagged against his chest. “Come on, let yourself be sick now.”

Alexi gave a miserable whimper before parting his lips. His whole body shuddered as the vomit came pouring out of his mouth with a harsh retch.

Once he started, there was no stopping. Tears streamed down his face while his stomach continued to purge itself. It came out in a thick stream of orange that burned his nose and throat.

“There you go baby,” Micah cooed as he rubbed the boy’s quivering shoulders. “I’m right here. You’re fine, just keep going.”

Alexi breathed a deep sigh as he got a second of respite. “Oh, my belly…it hurts, Micah. I’m so –uh– full.” He hiccupped from inside Micah’s embrace. He could feel the organ about to send up another gush. “Am I being loud?”

“No, shh, don’t worry about that.” Micah blocked Alexi’s view of the surrounding area. “You’re doing so well. I know it hurts, just keep going until there’s nothing left.”

That point was very far in the future, but Alexi got ever closer to the end as he heaved again. He was too sick to think about the fact that the bag was getting full. He was only focused on aiming and suffering. He was very good at suffering.

Micah on the other hand was aware of how full the bag was getting. They also hadn’t moved very far in the line. He wanted Alexi to feel empty, but he also wanted to not have puke on his shoes. The smell and sight was already invading his senses. He didn’t need a reminder on his shoes.

But Micah kept holding Alexi. He kept rubbing and blocking him from the other passengers. He did this for him even when he got to his second bag. Thankfully a flight attendant arrived in time with the bag. With another ten hours left to the flight, Micah wondered just how many bags Alexi would go through.

“Is it almost my turn?” Alexi asked as he came up for air. His face was sweaty and grey.

Micah wanted to pull him into a real hug, not give him bad news. So that’s what he did. He hugged him and said, “Almost. But you’re now a pro at aiming in this bag, so who cares?”

“Well, there’s another reason I wanted to get into this line, but it’s not urgent…yet.”

“Oh babe,” Micah said, wishing that he could get his boyfriend off this plane. “It’s going to be a long ten more hours, isn’t it?”

“Yep. I’m really gonna need this vacation.”

[extremelyblackandwhite]

innocence - 39

PAIRING: bodyguard!bucky barnes x innocent actress!reader

WARNINGS: none

A/N: boy, did i take a lot of time to post this but it’s the last one and i am on the ground crying. thank you so much for supporting this work. i am so lucky for having all of you xx

Bucky woke up with an odd cold feeling in the spot where Y/N usually used to lie. He rubbed the sleep of his eyes, hand roaming around the bed to find her hot body but nothing; he was alone in bed. He groaned, moving out of the bed as he kicked into protective mode. She shouldn’t be up this early at least not after he’d kept her up all night and if she was awake, it could be for no good reason. His hand blindly found the door as the other looked for something to wear so he wouldn’t walk full on commando in the living room and scare the neighbour who lived in the building next to his. Opening the door, he found her surrounded by papers, her laptop laying on top of her legs, glasses slightly and slowly sliding down the bridge of her nose. Bucky leaned against the door ledge, a stupid lovesick smirk on his lips as he examined her. Somehow, she had managed to find her underwear, the cutest little white, blue and pink corset and matching panties covered by a white dressing gown which just looked delightfully sinful with his hickeys and bite marks spread across her tender skin. He shouldn’t feel so cocky about marking her, yet the mere sight of it woke up an ego like pride which made him want to show her around to everyone who’d bother look. Yet, another part of him wanted to keep her all to himself. Obviously he knew he couldn’t, she was more of the world than she was of him and he would always be madly in love with her no matter what.

    - Mrs. Barnes, you are interrupting our honeymoon period. - he joked, walking behind the couch to kiss her temple. - What are you doing up at 5AM? Are you gonna go on a run with me? 

    - I’m just looking at my contract. - she closed her laptop with a sigh. - Iron clad contract, can’t believe I signed it. 

    - Princess, it was your first agency. You couldn’t have possibly known.

    - My dad is a lawyer, my siblings are lawyers, my grandparents were lawyers. How did I let this happen? Why didn’t I haggle? Why don’t we have a prenup?

   - Your mum is a chef, maybe you took after her. - he joked more to himself than to her. - Also what does a prenup has to do with it? Are you planning on divorcing me already?

   - When I sent the contract over to my dad he asked if I had gotten a prenup when I got married and I know he likes you but he kept yapping about a prenup and how smart women get prenups and I can’t believe I don’t have a prenup and that I signed this contract. - she spoke as fast as a freight train, not even taking a slight break. Bucky noticed the tea cup by her side which, judging by her quick speak, probably wasn’t filled with tea.

   - Princess, did you have some of my coffee?

   - I did, I needed to be awake. 

   - It’s extra strong coffee, doll. You barely drink coffee, it can’t possibly be ... uhm ...

   - I am jittery. - she interrupted him. - I’ve read this a thousand times and unless another agency fights my agency for a contract with me, I am stuck on ensemble for the rest of my life and it’s not like agencies are fighting for good old me.

   - Okay ... - he took her laptop away from her placing it somewhere on the ground before wrapping his hands around her waist and pulling her on top of his lap. She leaned her head against his chest, cuddling against his still warm torso from the heat int he bedroom. - Listen princess, you need to take your mind out of that. It’s no use re-reading that contract over and over again.

   - My career is over and I’m not good at anything else.

   - Your career is not over. - his hand caressed her shoulder, pulling her hair away from it before placing a small kiss to her shoulder. She merely cuddled against him, those contract words tattooed on her mind. - There’s no way that contract is legal after he’s charged with harassing you, princess. You just need to relax now. 

   - I don’t know.

   - Let’s go to Florence. - he bite her shoulder playfully. - Let’s go. What’s stopping us?

   - I don’t know ... we can’t go.

   - Don’t make me use the husband card. - he pointed at her playfully. - You’re not gonna want to be here during his trial anyway, precious. 

   - Maybe you’re right. - she leaned onto him, her arms wrapping against his torso. - You really think I’m not over?

   - I would never let that happen, would I? 

10 years later

Bucky felt the sun kiss his skin, the early yet soft wind of March passing by the quiet streets of London as he walked down the street in dark jeans and a equally dark blue henley. He stood by the little white building, sunglasses on as the bell rang and suddenly the boast of laughter erupted from inside the building followed by thousands of little legs running outside. He remained stoic until his smile pulled slightly up as between so many children, he spotted the thick brown curls of his daughter who rushed down the stairs in her little uniform and ladybug bag. She stopped at the bottom off the stairs, looking around until she spotted her dad. A smile, identical to her father’s, formed in her face as she rushed towards Bucky with open arms. He pretended to step back as she collided against him, before pulling her up and kissing her cheek. The 4 year old giggled, her arms wrapping around her dad’s neck as he walked away from her nursery. 

    - We learned about the letters in our names today, daddy! - she started to relate what she had happened during her day immediately after they were far away from the crowd.

    - No way, ladybug. 

    - Yeah. My name has a B, just like yours, daddy. - Bucky knew he should tell his daughter at some point that his name was not Bucky and that it was merely a nickname but he couldn’t bear tell her. She just looked so happy. 

    - Thank god we match, right ladybug?

She nodded her head, cuddling against her dad as he continued to walk in the affluent area of London. The weather was nice, a good omen for the big event of the evening. He was so proud as he saw the theatre walls with a photo of his wife, her name printed with the label Tony Award Winner under it. She deserved it, she deserved it so much and he could not even express in words how proud he was of her. The move back to her hometown had been a difficult one but seeing everything going right, seeing how happy she was ... god, he could swell up with pride. 

He went around the theatre, finding the backstage door and entering it. His daughter jumped off, little eyes looking around with so much wonder. He was almost sure she’d end up like his mother, a little star. The orchestra tuning could be heard from the walls, people and cast were running around preparing for the opening night. Blair held up his hand, pushing him through the crowd and up the stairs where the dressing rooms were.

  - Mumma! - she walked into her mother’s opened dressing room. Y/N dropped whatever she was doing to go hug her daughter, immediately preparing her with lipstick stained kisses. - Mumma, my name has a B like daddy.

  - No way. - she smiled, leaning her forehead against hers. - Ain’t daddy a lucky man?

  - Daddy is a lucky man, alright. - he chuckled, walking up to his two girls. - You look precious, princess.

  - I’m nervous. - he muttered towards her husband, who merely smiled before kissing her. - I’m serious.

  - Well, every time you tell me you’re nervous, something great happens, doesn’t it? - he looked at his daughter; the last time she had told him she was nervous was before Blair was born. - Me and Blair are gonna be there, watching you be splendid. 

  - I wanna go see Chuck. - Blair jumped away from his mother too, running to the next door dressing room and leaving the two lovers alone in the dressing room covered in red flowers, all curtesy of Bucky. The minute he had the theatre address, he started sending roses, lilies and even more every single day. 

  - Wish me luck? - she put her hands on top of his shoulders, almost slowly dancing with him.

  - You don’t need any luck. You’re always perfect.

  - You’re extremely biased, Mr. Barnes. 

  - No, I just have an extremely talented wife, Mrs. Barnes. 

  - 5 minute call. - the voice came through the voice on the speaker.

  - Love me even if I fail? 

  - Love you ‘til the end of time. 

taglist: @disasterbi​ @lookiamtrying​ @buckysteveloki-me​ @americasass81​ @jamesbarnesappreciationclub​ @lostinthebeans​ @mariahthelioness29​ @oh-nohoney @peaches-roses-sins​ @theadorasabditory​ @sipsteacasually​ @saiyanprincessswanie​ @booktease21​ @noiralei​ @learisa​ @everythingisoverratedbutgreat​ @uglipotata72829​ @naturalthrone22​ @husherstan​ @mandiiblanche​ @vicmc624​ @itsallyscorner​ @chipilerendi​ @emzd34 @writerwrites​ @bluevxnus​ @that-girl-named-alex​ @captnrogers​ @nsfwsebbie​ @sarge-barnes-sir​ @niki-is-a-thing​ @cynic-spirit​ @tenaciousperfectionunknown​​ @buckyswillow​​

[raewritesfiction]

Needy [Henry Cavill]

Plot: there’s ZERO plot here. The plot has left the building.

Pairing: Henry Cavill X Female reader

Warnings: Smut. Lots of smut. use of honourifics and unsafe sex. light breeding kink. ALWAYS USE A CONDOM.

[[ Lemme know if you wanna be added or removed from tags; no questions asked ♥️ likes are amazing however I really appreciate Reblogs to help spread my writing further! Thank you 🌈😘]]

Tag List: @jaseminedenise @nikkitasevoli @ohh-la-la-leto @iraniq @snewsome756 @vikki-rogue @amelia-in-w0nderland @pandaliciouz @crispyimagines17 @marie-is-blogging @bonniebird @nutinanutshell @louise-buchan @Amandalynngraves @trashybrooke @inlovewithhisblueeyes @sycochick @purplerain85 @zealoushound @summersong69

—-

It had been weeks since you had seen Henry and it was all you could do to keep your clothes on when he came home. But now you’d gotten the small talk out the way and he had showered to wash off his long flight back; you were straddling his thighs wearing nothing but a Superman emblem tee, panties and a skirt. Henry liked it when he could see your nipples through whatever you were wearing and he liked it even more when you were pressed against him and making out like you were teenagers.

Henry’s large hands gripped your ass and squeezed, spanking you occasionally as you rutted your hips against him, whining into his mouth with need. You had babbled about needing to feel him against you again; about missing his solid form crushing you when he was fucking you so good that your neighbour knew Henry’s name. He had smirked and pulled you down onto him, his tongue pushing past your lips to enter your mouth and duel with your own tongue.

“Is babygirl needy for me?” He smiles and speaks low, voice barely above a whisper.

“Yessss…” you hiss out your answer and nip his lip.

“Maybe you need to show me just how needy… how about you slip off those panties and ride my thigh like the good little slut you are?”

“Yes, Sir.” The words roll off your tongue as you nod enthusiastically. He didn’t like ‘daddy’ but you had learned quickly he liked ‘Sir’.

“Good girl…” he nips along your jaw and helps you stand.

“Would Sir like me to ride his thigh here or in the bedroom?” You slip your panties down your legs.

“I think it’s a nice evening and we should go out into the back garden. That bench is sturdy enough.” He winks and stands; his height and build makes you feel tiny in comparison.

“Y-yes, Sir.” You nod and bite your lip knowing full well that your neighbour could easily see into your garden if they decided to pop out for an evening drink.

Henry watches you walk outside and follows you, directing you to the garden bench in question and taking a slightly slouched seat on the wood and concrete furniture.

The sun was low in the sky casting a golden glow across your garden; the position Henry chose means he has a perfect view of you in the sunset.

“Climb on babygirl, I want to see just how needy you are.” He rubs his bare thigh and offers his other hand to help steady you. Once you were comfortably straddled, Henry wraps his arm around your lower back. “I wanna watch you let go…”

“Am I allowed to cum, Sir?”

“Always baby… I want your legs to shake.”

You take a look around and blush crimson, catching his eyes staring seemingly right into your soul. This wasn’t the first time you’d ridden his thigh and it wouldn’t be the last but you always felt so self conscious under his gaze. You lift yourself a little and roll your hips slowly along his thigh until you could feel your own slickness on his skin.

“You don’t seem very needy.” He teases.

You whine and move your hips faster, lifting your skirt a little to give Henry the best view of your pussy lips gliding over his muscular thigh.

“Aah I see… well are you close?” he keeps his voice quiet and listens to you panting.

“Yes, Sir. May I cum?” You moan and throw your head back, desperately rocking your hips against him.

”I told you, yes…. Now if you ask again I’ll have to spank you while my fingers make you cum again.”

You whine and pout “oh god…” pushing your tee up above your breasts and pinching your nipple just enough for that pleasureful sting.

“That’s it, just let go… show me how badly you need my cock stretching your pussy… how badly you want me to fill you up… you’re my needy little slut…”

You moan and tilt your hips as you ride him; cumming over him and dripping over his thigh.

“Good girl, doing as you’re told… I think you deserve my cock inside you…” Henry helps move you to slouch back on the bench while he frees his hard cock “you know how much I love hearing you cum; getting off for me.” His hand wraps around his length and he strokes slowly, happy to see you watching so attentively.

Henry spreads your legs and kneels against the edge of the garden bench between them then lifts you onto his lap and along his cock; his eyes flutter but don’t fully close as you easily fit his entire length inside you. You let your head fall back over the bench and gasp out his name as you settle on him; licking your lips and whining when he doesn’t immediately begin to move.

“Please, Sir.” You watch him and run your hands over his arms, scratching lightly and making him growl low.

He hooks his arms under your thighs and lifts your legs to sit on his shoulders; gripping the back of the bench to steady himself. “You want me to fuck you, Princess?”

“Yes, god fuck yes, Sir! I’m your needy slut and I need you too!” You plead and rock your hips for emphasis.

“Such a filthy mouth…we’ll deal with that another day…” he winks and snaps his hips with a low grunt making you arch your back. “More?”

“Yes! Yes, Sir!”

Henry doesn’t give you chance to get your answer out fully before his hips are moving like pistons into you; the bench wood threatening to snap away from its concrete base with every thrust of his cock into you. You cross your ankles behind his head and grip the seat of the bench to help you move your hips to his the best you can. It doesn’t take long for his thrusts and ruts to become relentless; you fail to call anything except incoherent cuss words and his name amongst your groans and whines of pleasure.

“Please…. Close!” You pant heavily.

“Then cum!” It’s almost a demand and your eyes fly open at the tone of his voice. Henry doesn’t miss the look on your face and he smirks.

He thrusts hard; your pussy juice already soaking both his thighs. “I. Said. Cum.”

This time it’s a full demand; your entire spirit and being is in tune together and you stutter out a scream. Your pussy tightens around Henry’s cock and threatens to push him out but he drives deep into you with his own release and grips the back of the bench tight enough to crack the wood plank behind your head.

After a few moments you both relax and lean against each other breathing heavily. Henry helps move your legs to a more relaxed position and wraps his arms around you, moving you both onto the bench to relax.

“You really were needy for me, huh?” He kisses you softly and strokes your face. “You okay, Princess?”

You nod and hum into the kiss “I’m good, Sir. For you I’m always needy…”

[flowesona]

Wicker Man - yandere! jungkook x reader

so my child @babeejk​ wanted a y! sugar daddy jungkook, and i live for nothing if not to fulfil her jungkook obsession so here we are. 

word count: 2.1k

pairing: y! jungkook x gn! reader

Most people (Y/N)’s age would spend their Friday night partying, hanging out with friends, trying new things. But (Y/N) was spending the best days of their life entertaining a young, rich CEO who would no doubt dump them for a new pretty face in a few years.

Jungkook was a sweet gentleman. Always made payments on time, and usually never pushed the boundaries. But there were instances where his hands crept a little too far for (Y/N)’s liking, or his grip on (Y/N)’s arm got a little too tight in the presence of his friends.

He was peaceful enough that Friday night, having ordered takeout for the two of them and put on a movie. Clearly, he needed the company of (Y/N) more than their body as most of their previous sugar daddies had coveted.

With (Y/N) placing their plate down onto the coffee table and relaxing into his arms to watch the movie, it was almost like they were dating. Jungkook didn’t dare push this idea often, happy to stick to the simple domesticity they had as if they were already in love and nothing needed to be said.

He pressed a kiss on the back of (Y/N)’s neck, enjoying the fleeting feeling of his lips on their skin. 

“You seem tired, baby. Want to go to bed?” The film was reaching its climax, but (Y/N)’s eyes were barely able to stay open.

“Mmmmm.” They replied, not protesting as he lifted them like a bride and carried them into his room to rest on his king sized bed.

(Y/N) had allowed a gentle smile to settle on their lips, their eyes having drifted closed. Jungkook settled himself beside them, feeling equally as at peace.

“I wish every night could be like this.” He mused allowed. “Would you like that, baby?”

(Y/N) was only his for two nights a week - Fridays and Saturdays, wherein he would often have them stay for the night.

“Mmmmm.” (Y/N) gave an ambiguous grumble as he hooked his arms around their chest to spoon them.

“Really? I can’t wait, baby. I love you, so much.”

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

The morning after, (Y/N) woke up to an empty bed. Unusual, considering that Jungkook loved to wake up beside them and talk in the morning. Brushing that aside they stood up and padded out of the bedroom and into the kitchen.

Jungkook was seated at the counter, glasses perched on his nose and his laptop in front of him next to a steaming cup of hot water (allegedly, it had health benefits but (Y/N) had never understood it).

“Good morning, baby.” Jungkook had a bright smile, beckoning them to join him at the counter. (Y/N) followed his instructions, hopping onto the stool beside him and leaning on his shoulder in a move they knew he adored.

“I’ve been working hard for you this morning, baby. You know, I want to get this done as soon as possible so we can be together.”

“That’s good.” (Y/N) hummed in reply.

“How do you feel about the moving company getting there at two today? That’ll give us time to have lunch on the way.” Jungkook ran his hand down their arm, soothing them as he noticed how they tensed up.

“What?” 

“So you can move in, baby. Of course, you don’t have to bring everything here and I’ll be more than happy to buy anything extra you need-”

“Wait, wait, wait a second.” (Y/N) breathed out slowly. “Moving in?”

“We talked about it last night. You agreed, didn’t you?” (Y/N) scrunched up their nose, trying to recall the conversation but drawing a blank.

“No, I never agreed to that. And I never would. It’d break the terms of our contract.”

Jungkook had such a sincere look of hurt in his eyes that it tugged at (Y/N)’s heartstrings.

“We don’t need that contract, baby. We just need each other. You know I’ll give you anything you want, right?” 

“And what I want… no, what I need… is for some space. This is just my part time hustle, I still have college and a life outside of this. I want to keep it to two days a week, otherwise it’ll blur the lines between you as a sugar daddy and you as a boyfriend.” (Y/N) tried not to let their irritation show as they spoke.

“Fuck the lines, (Y/N)! We don’t need any of those labels, I just want you to be mine as much as I am yours!” Their companion’s grip on their arm had grown tighter to the point that his nails started to draw blood. Realising this, (Y/N) pried his hand away and stood up.

“I’m sorry if I’d misled you. But I’m not looking for that kind of relationship with you, I’m just looking for strictly business. If this doesn’t work, maybe we should end this.” 

Jungkook stared at them incredulously.

“Well…” He bit his lip, deep in thought. “Fine. Life will go on, I guess. I’ll call up the moving company and cancel it. Let’s not end this beautiful thing we have over a silly argument.”

(Y/N) nodded, although they had a horrible feeling in their stomach that it was not the end of the conversation, and Jungkook would stop at nothing to get his way.

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

(Y/N) had chosen to make Thursday a ‘me’ day. They cooked themselves breakfast and lunch, did some online shopping and applied a face mask. They had zero intentions of visiting anyone else, when all they wanted to do was de-stress from life.

As they were lighting a candle and listening to some Beethoven, a shrill alarm rang out.

‘Huh. They don’t normally hold the drill today.’ (Y/N) shrugged, waiting for it to cease. However, it didn’t stop.

After a few minutes, (Y/N) grabbed their phone and stepped outside, only to see people hurrying down the stairs. 

“Hurry! Fire!” One of her neighbours yelled, jogging past them. 

Their eyes widened, but sure enough they could see smoke curling throughout the air and they knew they had no time to lose. Leaving their apartment with only their phone in hand, (Y/N) followed their neighbours down the stairs and out of the building, standing on the pavement as they watched the flames licking at the building and smoke billowing out of the open windows. Soon enough there were fire engines on the scene and ambulances to deal with the people who’d inhaled too much smoke. 

(Y/N) found themselves sitting on the pavement, numb with shock. To think everything they owned was going up in the flames was terrifying, even as they saw the firefighters doing everything to minimise the damage. 

“(Y/N)! Baby!” Their state of shock was broken by someone yelling their name, and suddenly they were pulled into a tight hug.

“Baby, thank god you’re okay. I don’t know what I would’ve done if something happened to you.” 

“Jungkook?” (Y/N) instantly recognised the voice. “What- How-”

“I was in the area when I heard about what happened. I came as quickly as I could.” Jungkook pressed a kiss to (Y/N)’s forehead. 

“You need to rest. Come back to my place, okay?”

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

(Y/N) had ended up staying there far longer than intended. Their apartment had been completely wrecked by the fire, since it had started on their floor. Every possession of theirs, gone so quickly, although of course Jungkook insisted on replacing whatever they wanted.

Jungkook seemed to be very much content with their prolonged stay. In fact, he’d been working from home for the first few days to make sure they were settled in and not feeling too lonely. (Y/N) would sit with him in his home office, since they didn’t really have much else to do, and scroll on their phone until he inevitably called them over to cuddle with him. 

The young man had become progressively bolder with his skinship, never holding back from pressing kisses to their neck or holding them a bit too tightly to his crotch. They hadn’t done ‘it’ yet, but with how he was acting it was only a matter of time. 

They were just sitting together, (Y/N) scrolling through instagram and Jungkook answering some emails when the desk phone rang. Jungkook reached around them to answer it, holding it to his ear for a few seconds before putting it back down.

“Your nintendo switch has just been delivered. I need to go down to the lobby and sign for it. Are you okay waiting here for a few minutes?” Jungkook pouted, as (Y/N) nodded in reply.

He pressed a kiss to their cheek before standing up.

“Don’t miss me too much, baby.” He smiled before leaving. 

(Y/N) let out a breath they didn’t realise they’d been holding in whilst he was there. But now, they were bored as ever. 

A chime rang out, and (Y/N) found their attention drawn to Jungkook’s phone, sitting there innocently. They reached over and picked it up, only seeing a text from his mother asking about dinner plans next week. But they noted how he’d changed his lockscreen to a picture of them, from a few nights ago when they’d accompanied him to a formal event and he’d asked one of his colleagues to take a picture of them together.

(Y/N) suddenly had something to do. They set about trying to unlock Jungkook’s phone, first trying their fingerprint and face ID but to no avail. Then, realising that he had a numeral password they tried typing in a few dates - his birthday, his parent’s anniversary. Then, out of sheer boredom and with only one attempt they tried their own birthday only for them to be granted access to his lockscreen.

‘Jeez, he needs to get a life if he’s that whipped for me.’ They sighed, as they scrolled through his phone. Nothing was particularly out of the ordinary, until they checked the photo gallery, to be met with tons of pictures of them. Screenshots from social media, snaps from their ‘dates’, selfies with them fast asleep in his arms. It was enough to make (Y/N) shudder with fright.

Another message popped up.

‘I need the other half of the payment, sir, or I will be contacting the police.’

(Y/N) clicked on it, expecting business talk only to be met with something else entirely. Fear settled in their stomach as they scrolled up through the messages.

‘(Y/N) has been evacuated outside, doesn’t seem to have been hurt.’

‘Someone’s called emergency services, but the fire should spread far enough that (Y/N)’s apartment will be damaged.’

‘I’ve started it, it’s spreading quickly.’

It didn’t take a genius to realise what had happened. 

(Y/N) dropped Jungkook’s phone on the floor in shock, standing up immediately. They’d walked right into his arms without hesitation, they’d played into his plan perfectly. Jungkook always got what he wanted, no matter the cost.

‘I have to get out of here.’

(Y/N) started for the door, only stopping to tuck their phone into their pocket. They were just by the entrance to the penthouse when they heard talking outside.

They knew they had to hide, but it was too late. 

Jungkook burst through the door, accompanied by a stern faced delivery driver carrying a large box. This was subsequently placed by the door and he made a swift exit, avoiding (Y/N)’s existence the entire time.

“Ah, baby I missed you. Here, come and see what I bought for you.” Jungkook beckoned to them, but one look at their face told him he’d read their mood entirely wrong.

“What’s wrong, baby?” He cooed as he approached them. “Tell me, and I’ll fix it for you.”

“Get the hell away from me.” (Y/N) snapped. Jungkook froze. “I know what you did. What the hell is wrong with you? I could’ve died in that fire?”

His face became stern.

“I would never have allowed that to happen. I just wanted to give you a little push to move in with me, that’s all.” 

“You’re insane!”

“And you’re too stubborn to progress our relationship!” Jungkook bit back. “Can’t you see how hard I try to make you happy? Is that not enough for you to love me?”

“I never want to see you again.” (Y/N) huffed, trying to show past him only to be caught in his iron grip. 

“You’re not going anywhere.”

(Y/N) struggled, but Jungkook’s determination was stronger than their body weight.

“Maybe I am crazy, baby. And you know what that means?” He leant in close, so (Y/N) could feel the warmth of his breath. “You never know what I’m going to do next. So don’t try me unless you want to get burnt.”