#then proceed to tell me i look like shit and i will never be successful and that they think im going to hell because i don't act

[say-hi-intrepid-heroes]

.

[reztaezm]

𝙳𝙴𝙱𝚄𝙶¿

・・・・・・・・・・

𝙹𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚈𝚞𝚗𝚑𝚘 𝚡 𝙾𝙲 (𝙵𝚎𝚖!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛)

𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜: smut; oral (m - receiving), riding, late night office sex, unprotected sex (not encouraging, pls use protection), implied hand fetish, implied vein fetish, implied size difference / size kink, humor, lots of profanity and dirty jokes

𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: Jeong Yunho, the helpful I.T. professor, and Y/n, the hot senior programmer

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 6.6k (filler plot??)

۶ৎ

A sigh — it is all Y/n was able to muster in response to the repeated queries of her officemates.

Before she was asked again, she spoke for the first time in twelve hours to cut them off. “No. It still keeps crashing.”

San was lucky they were best friends, because Y/n would’ve pushed him off his chair just for almost letting out a laugh.

“It’s not funny.” Y/n sighs yet again for probably the hundredth instance that day, and San knew, which was what made him finally burst.

Y/n’s been playing hunchback for weeks, ever since she had started programming her video game. It's only a demo project. She hasn't actually come up with a polished plot for the game, which was unfortunate since she only had about two months left till the proposal due.

“I mean, honestly, your game’s the shit.” Y/n had her face buried in her hands when she heard San say that, and she wouldn't lift his head even as she answered.

“You mean, is shit.” her tired and muffled mutter made San shake his head, though still at the verge of laughter.

“Come on, dude. You always tell me that real success takes the longest, to trust the process,” she finally looks at San as he speaks, though not without another sigh falling from her lips. “You’re being a bad example right now, you know that? It's like you being that cool senior I met on my first day in the company is a complete scam.”

Y/n stood up from his chair after long hours of being stuck on it, and it showed from the way she stretched her limbs and arched his back with the quiet snapping of her back. “It is.”

This time, she laughed, but it was weak. San could hear her loss of sleep in the sound. “Whatever. That's just a phase.” San found himself shaking his head once more, chuckling at his friend who looked like she consumed coffee as a water substitute.

Y/n decides to ignore San — who was carefully skimming through her progress — for a moment to give the restroom a visit. It was a solo restroom, even though it's in an office with six people, it wasn't hard to figure why there’d often be an angry knocker outside. Y/n stops to look at herself in the mirror. And just like what she'd expect, her under eyes had darkened, even sunk a little bit. Her lips were slightly chapped, and well, long story short, she's anemic. Her hues were dead all over, even her clothes look like she's just got out of a funeral.

She ties her hair to a sad, lazy ponytail, then opens the faucet, letting the water run over her palms. She splashed on her face for a quick rinse, and an implicit attempt of a wake-up call. Because maybe it was time for her to take a break. At this point, her hands have tremors even when at rest, and she wasn't sure if she had gone past her daily caffeine intake or if she was actually developing a chronic illness. No matter the cause, her mentality opposed the needs of her body, for even with the tiny rants San and her other colleagues would hear from her, she never actually gave up. Like San had said, it was just a phase, it's a silly statement, but it's true.

“I’ve gone through this before. I can do it again.”

After having wiped her face down with her hand towel, she exits the restroom. She appeared to be quite disheveled, with some strands of her hair sticking to the sides of her face and the rest a sloppily tied mess behind her head. She proceeds to her desk with leisurely motions, claiming her seat once more with a yawn, stretching her arms back slightly past her head.

“It’s DoorDash hour,” she mumbles when she happens to read the time on her desk clock. “Can any of you vouch for my coffee, my PayPal is out of serv-”

She was cut off when an unfamiliar hand had set itself on her desk right in front of her. She looks up — and her first thought was San probably wasn’t done meddling with her scripting, but then, she’d freeze in shock.

Or maybe surprise? Am I in one of those k-dramas where some hot fictional guy comes to life? Who the fuck is this fine asset and why is he staring at my computer-

“Looks like you mistyped a code here, miss.”

And what the fuck is that voice… “Excuse me?”

Y/n had zero clue as to who this man was, or why he was standing there — from her observation — looking like a complete meal. It seems like DoorDash hour came earlier for her.

The mystery man chuckles, and as embarrassing it is for her to admit, his voice was stimulating her hormones more than she’d hope. She felt somewhat violated. “Well…”

The low pur in is utterance was enough for her to make a mental note to check out cheap therapy sessions online. And perhaps she had almost gone completely insane when she felt his arms on either side of her. He could feel the warmth of his figure leaning over hers as she sat there with a slight shiver, and at a loss for words.

The sounds of him typing on her keyboard, and the clicking as he maneuvered the mouse, were blocked off by her ears. It was as if his breathing was a song blasting right into her ears, and she was the only one who could hear it.

“Oh, Yunho. You’re here.”

If only Y/n could turn to greet San, and ask him why he’d let this unbelievably attractive man in their office without giving her any sort of warning, not even a text.

“Hey, how’s it been?” Finally, she was able to breathe because this tall stature of a man walked off to greet his old friend, initiating a handshake.

“Been well, nothing crazy.” Their conversation becomes drowned out in the background as she salvages the time to compose herself before the two took notice of her.

“By the way, that's Y/n. She's the hot senior I was talking about.”

Y/n’s eyes widened at San’s mention of her name, and his jarring description of her. She spins her chair around, finally facing the two men, finally facing him again.

San couldn't help but snicker seeing the baffled expression on Y/n’s face, the target subsequent of his prank. “What?”

Y/n sighs at San’s clownery, knowing exactly why he was giggling like a little boy again. “You didn't tell me someone was coming.”

And with that, San smirks. “Don't worry, he's not hostile at all.”

The two men would share a chuckle which would've irritated her, but honestly, she wasn't hearing San.

“Care to introduce yourself?” She held confidence in her tone as she questioned the other guy, and as she waited for his answer, she’d bring herself to meet his eyes for the first time.

“I’m Jeong Yunho. I’m also a senior programmer.”

It might've been a mistake. The guy looked so tidy and proper. His shirt was ironed, and the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. Not only that, he also wore black pleated pants that showed off his height well. She didn't even want to stand because she was sure he’d somehow mistaken her for a chair.

She nods and hums in response to his introduction, as if she was interviewing him for a job application. “And why are you here?”

San couldn't hold back from snorting at her current demeanor which was very unlike her daily work attitude.

Yunho catches her shooting a glare towards San, and he couldn't help but smile a little. “San called me. He said you need help with your game’s script.”

Y/n’s brows furrowed. “What?” Then she looks at San, questioning him without a word, because she sure as hell does not remember asking him for assistance.

San only shrugs, again, playing dumb.

“You’ve been working on it for a long time now, correct?” Her head snaps back at Yunho when he asks the question.

To which she answers, “Yes.” with a nod, though she didn't quite catch why he’d ask.

Yunho would then approach her desk, bringing himself closer to her, close enough for her to smell his perfume… “It's due pretty soon, don’t you think?”

The tip of his finger was pointing and pressed against the marked date of her game demo’s deadline, and he was looking down at her. She could've sworn she could already feel his breath on her face. She only nods in response to his question, swallowing the salivation that had amassed in her mouth as her brain processed their proximity.

“You should’ve been at least done with the intro. Do you have a tutorial before the actual game?” She was forced to look away from his face out of sheer embarrassment, but she was at least seventy percent sure that he didn't notice.

“Yeah. The intro runs smoothly, but I can't seem to get this part of the script to work.” She then leans closer to her computer monitor and navigates the said part of the programming with the scroll of her mouse to show it to him.

He hums upon inspecting her work, and then she freezes again. His hand grabbed for the mouse, all while she was still holding it. His hand moved the mouse, moving her hand along with it, being engulfed by his absurdly larger one. She’d be lying if she said she was paying attention to what he was doing to her script, but she tried, she really did.

“I can help you with getting this done. My schedule is flexible for two months, including now.” Yunho leans back a bit to look at her, then gives her a smile.

She couldn't help but think that he's doing all of this on purpose. “Wait,”

He hits her with a “Hmm?” and the slight raise of his eyebrows.

She clears her throat, trying to ignore the fact that everything he did was attractive to her. "How much?”

The few seconds of him as he thought about her question was accompanied by a soft hum with his lips formed into a slight pout. “I don't really have a price in mind right now. But we can negotiate it after we finish your game.”

Negotiate?... After we finish the game? “I mean, you don't have to help me full-time, you know. We could just work through messages-”

“Yeah, but that could make things complicated at some instances.” He casually cuts her off, even shrugging as he straightens up his stance. “Your work can be more precise, and maybe we can avoid bugs, fix the existing ones.”

He then leans sidewards against her desk, using his arm to support his weight. That's when she saw it — the fine lines on his hands. With how close he was, she could see the patterns drawn by his veins. She couldn't help but imagine those hands flexed and its veins protruding as he carried her — a long sigh leaves her mouth, but after hearing his subtle chuckle, she realizes that he was still waiting for her to respond to his offer.

“Yes.”

Yunho raised a brow, finding this response rather interesting.

“Yes?”

Y/n had to rewind her own reply in her mind to figure out what she'd said wrong, or what she couldn't say. “Ah, I meant sure. I can work with that.” She then gives him a smile, thanking her guardian angels in her mind for keeping her from stuttering or stumbling on her own words.

Way later that night, she remained in the office, now left empty and lit by nothing but her computer monitor, and the lights of the hallway outside seeping through the glass panels of the office doors. She leans back against her chair, staring at the blank IDE on her computer monitor. It wasn't really completely blank. She just had this empty space below what she had already done. She yawns, and almost closes her eyes — almost, because her phone began vibrating against her desk and produced a loud blaring to her ears in the quiet confinement of the almost-empty quarter.

She picks up her phone and reads the notification on her lockscreen. Then suddenly, she was wide awake.

jeong yunho (LINE) : hey, heard you're still in the office?

She was slightly confused by the structure of his text. It wasn't constructed like a question, yet it had a question mark, still, she didn't have it in her to ignore him and pretend she's busy when she's currently stuck with her work.

y/n y/l/n: yeah i am

jeong yunho: why?

She was surprised with his reply time, it was almost instant.

y/n y/l/n: i have something to finish

jeong yunho: why didn't you tell me?

i’m omw

What the fuck. She was stunned, and a part of her thought that he must be kidding, and if not then he was out of his mind.

And the conclusion? He’s out of his mind.

Whilst Y/n restlessly tapped her fingers on the armrest of her chair, she hears the shifting hinges of the door, indicating someone's entrance. Despite her double-guessing, he actually came. Not that she's surprised anymore since he did message her beforehand. It's the fact that he insisted that bewildered her. She didn't need him — well, at least not yet. But he could've chosen to leave her alone and rest for himself, especially since it was already past 11pm.

“I didn't think you'd actually come.” She couldn't help but express her thoughts once he was seated beside her.

Yunho gives her a chuckle for that, and replies with a question, “Why not?”

Whether it was a real question or not, she answers him anyway. “Because it's late. You had work too, didn't you?”

He sighs softly and shrugs. He sure does shrug a lot. “Eh, I just sat in the computer lab all day. Also monitored some newbies, but it was light work.” he replies as he moves his chair, and himself, closer to Y/n.

“Monitored newbies?” She grew curious of what he did, she didn't really have much background on him yet, apart from the fact that he's an excellent programmer who earned a master's degree. “What's your job anyways?”

“I’m an I.T. professor.”

Her eyes grew wider at this newfound information. He seemed so young, and too… fine to be a college professor.

Unfortunately, he notices her reaction and chuckles. She'd paid to hear him chuckle over and over again, but she couldn't quite figure out what it meant, cause he might as well be making fun of her in his mind.

“I’m new. I got hired by my university just a year ago.” her mouth forms a small ‘o’ from that follow up info and nods to express her understanding.

She didn't have anything else to say, but she thought he did. So with a brave heart, she turns her head to look at him, only to be met with that overwhelming gaze of his that she's seeing for the first time. He had also moved a little closer, and it made the whole moment feel more intense — for her at least.

“So… how long have you been working for this company?”

She was thankful he had asked that question, or else she would've been stuck staring at him. “Uhh… five, it's been… five years.”

Their eyes were still set on each other, but she didn't really know where this was headed, or what it meant for him. Because for her, the tension is undeniable. And maybe, just maybe, it was fairly sexual. She could feel some heat rising on her cheeks the more she looked at him, and his form was shaped by the grey sweatshirt he had on — the sleeves were rolled up again. It's like he's purposely showing off his arms for her to fantasize about. The fact that his eyes were on her too did nothing but drive the biological reactions of her body, in layman's terms, she was turned on.

He hums in response to her answer and would briefly shift his eyes from hers, down to her lips, then lower. She thought she was starting to hallucinate because of how horny she could be, because from her perspective, it seemed as though he was checking her out.

She then thought that maybe, the tension wasn't one sided after all. “Five years… doesn't sound like a lot, but I’m sure you’ve got… loads of experience, right?”

Y/n wasn't fond of alcohol, but his tone, his voice, it all began to sound like smooth whiskey, and she was slowly getting drunk off of it. “Right.”

Yunho chuckles again, but this time, the sound was drawn deep from his chest. He was looking at her as if she was the only thing visible to him, and that everything else was an empty void.

“You know, when San first mentioned you, I thought you'd be a middle-aged woman, or close to that.” As he spoke to her, his hand would move to the armrest of her chair, resting beside her hand, though not quite touching it. “But then again, you could be, huh?”

Y/n would make a sound, somewhere close to a laugh, though her brows were adorably knitted closely. “I'm in my mid twenties.” Yunho smirks at that, most likely because she was speaking in a much softer tone now, which contrasted the first voice he heard from her.

“I can see that.”

Internal and hysterical screaming. Her mind and body were reacting in such irrational ways, not only from the way he was speaking to her, but with how she was able to confirm that he was indeed checking her out.

“San only referred to you as the ‘hot senior’ in your office... but I don't think he meant it as a joke.” He said this, all while spending almost a minute staring on her lips. “All the proof I need is right in front of me.”

She was stuck, yet again — unlike being stuck with her game’s programming, she actually had a plan of actions in mind, in fact, there might be too much to them. None of them would fall under the typical human response, but was she really gonna play dumb and act like she isn't being ogled by the man only inches apart from her?

Her eyes wandered down to his arms again, and his hand was right next to hers. She knew how skilled those fingers are with handling computers. What more if he was handling her. She slowly brought her gaze up, looking over his body, even fully covered, she saw how fit and healthy he was, particularly on the area of his pecs. Shit.

Knowing that he was pretty much undressing her with his eyes, she was possessed with sudden boldness, speaking with more nerve on a provocative note. “Yeah? And what makes you say that?”

Maybe she sounded too bold for her physical condition, because she was quite sure she’d looked gaunt after continuous shifts, only taking ten-minute naps max, and having a staring contest with her computer monitor to the point that she’s taken in the eyes of a drug addict.

But maybe, in some way she couldn’t see, she radiates allure, particular to Yuhno. “I don’t know,” He chuckles a little at himself. “Maybe I have a thing for burnout.”

Then he lifts his hand from the armrest, pointing a finger and using it to move a stray strand of hair that went over her eyes, and tucks it behind her ear. The whole time, Y/n thought about where else his fingers would wander and stop. There was no stopping for the tips of his fingers brushed against her cheeks as he moved down his hand. He moved his hand as if he was taking his time to feel the texture of her skin, and despite the feather-light contact, it became her sensory’s hyperfixation.

“Or maybe I just have a thing for you.”

Y/n’s lips slowly curved up into a slight smile, impossible for Yunho to miss given how close he’s gotten. And he’s slowly moving closer, and closer. His movements were subtle, but she could feel it — the heat rose the closer he got. Her hands moved by themselves, one of them holding onto the wrist of his hand that now held her face. Resisting was no longer in consideration for her, leading her to give in to her temptations, tracing the veins and the muscles of his forearm and feeling it with the pads of her fingers.

Yunho had gotten close enough for the tip of his nose to lightly press against the side of her face, right next to her ear, smelling the faint fragrance of her perfume and the natural scent of her body mixed with a bit of sweat and the reeks of the office environment. He couldn’t help but breathe her in.

“You really thought I wouldn’t notice?” He murmurs right into her ear, the same time his sly hand moved in between her back and the backrest of her chair, slowly settling his palm against the curvature of her waist.

She’d gulp, and nervously so. However, her lust would soon overshadow any other emotion she had brewing in her.

“What?” — Yunho found her feigned cluelessness a tad amusing, yet adorable.

If anything, it’s only egging him on. “Where do you want my hands?” He’d elicit a soft gasp from her once his other hand moved to her thigh and began to rub it over her jeans, moving it up slowly, then down again, but not reaching her knee. His lips gently grazed against her skin as he moved them below her ear, placing a soft kiss there and whispering to her, “Tell me…”

“Tell me what you want…” His hand began to caress and lightly squeeze on her thigh, even moving his hand higher and closer to her crotch, but never actually making contact with it to tease her. “Who knows?… I might just give it to you.”

Her breathing grew heavier, and irregular. But so was Yunho’s as he continued to gently stamp his lips against her skin, creating a trail down her jaw. 

“You really wanna know?” Y/n surprises herself since she was already finding it difficult to breathe normally for her to speak.

Yunho moves his head back, but just enough to see her face. “Why else would I ask, babe?”

You asked for this. Y/n knew exactly what she wanted, and she was ready to blame him for what she was about to tell him.

“I want to suck you off.”

Yunho almost choked on his own saliva. It wasn’t the answer he was anticipating at all — not that he was complaining since his dick throbbed in his pants from hearing that. 

“Are you sure?” 

Y/n doesn’t think twice about nodding and confirming her desire,and getting on her knees in front of him. 

“Shit.” Yunho mutters under his breath upon the sight of her on her knees, looking up at him like a hungry little kitten. He used his eyes to trace the curves along the sides of her body, and the curve that shaped her breasts.

She then sat up and brought her hands on his knees, slowly moving them up his thighs as she leaned closer to the growing erection in his pants. But just as she’s grabbed the waistband of his sweatpants, he stops her by grabbing her wrists. She looks up, averting her eyes from the bulge that was dearing to poke through the fabric of his pants.

Yunho breathed in for a moment, brushing his thumbs against the back of her hands as he held them and spoke. “Are you sure-sure that you’re down for this?”

She found it funny that he’d stop her to ask again, that’s why she chuckled a little. The only thing stopping her from entirely engulfing his cock is his sweatpants, and boxers — or briefs. Her eagerness was painfully obvious by then.

“Why else would I be on my knees?” — there was a slight hitch in Yunho’s breath when he realized she was teasing him, imitating the way he had spoken to her earlier. 

And so, he’d lose his grip on her wrists, letting her tug down what was restraining his wood. His cock darts out, and Y/n catches it before it hits his stomach. She was so tempted to just gobble him up, but as her eyes scanned the size of him, she was swallowing her spit. Even the veins on his cock protruded. 

Yunho caught the way her thighs become magnetized to one another as she held his dick. He couldn’t help the groan that escaped him when her hand stroked up his length, and instinctively, his hand made a handle out of her hair. She stared up at him, surprised how much of an effect that one move had on him. She, of course, did the only rational thing and stuck out her tongue, leaning forward to have a taste of him.

The moment her delicate tongue made contact with his tip, his fingers would become more entangled with the strands of her hair whilst his other hand lifted his sweatshirt high enough to expose his toned stomach. Then her lips parted wider, wrapping around the head, and slowly enveloping his cock she lowered her head — and fuck. He’s been accustomed to his hand for a while now, and the heat of her mouth was driving only made his dick harder than it already was, if that was even possible. Whichever way the sensations he was feeling were to be described, one thing was clear in his mind — he was receiving the best head of his life.

He didn’t even ask her to, nor have thought about it, but her tongue moved with precision, she was expert with swirling her tongue around the head of his cock just as she was with typing down codes. He’d find himself tugging rather harshly on her hair when she sped up the bobbing of her head. That, paired with the sounds of slurping and plopping, and his view of his dick disappearing into her mouth repeatedly had him losing the point of breathing. He’s got his head thrown back, fighting to keep his eyes open to see how she devours his dick and drives him to the brink of insanity.

“How are you so good at this?” His words came out in labored breaths, still crudely holding onto her hair. 

She hears him, but doesn’t pause one bit. She only ends up doing more. She’d begun to suck harder, and the second time her skilled and warm mouth constricted around his cock, he almost blew his cum into her throat. And she felt it. She felt his cock twitching against the walls of her oral cavity.

“F-Fuck-slow down for a s-” — The fuck not. Why would she when she’s so close to fulfilling the little fantasy she’s had ever since he came into the office in those sweats.

He kept twitching in her mouth, and her hair was bound in a twisted and tangled mess in his hand, the other nearly breaking the armrest of the chair he sat on with how tightly he’s been holding onto it the whole time. His hand moves by itself and pushes her head down, the same time his hips snapped up, and he would end up shoving his cock’s head deeper into her throat as his cum erupts into it. 

The fluid coats the enclosure of her mouth as she pulls herself off — and with a mass of struggle. She wasn’t able to swallow everything like she’d hope, but she was nearly choking. She thought his cum would drip out of her nose because there seemed to be so much of it.

She used the ends of her sleeves to wipe around her lips that were glossed with her spit and his cum, and Yunho watched her as she did so. He was amazed by her talent, for a lack of a better word.

“Do you usually blow guys in your office?” She nearly chokes, again, not only on his cum, but with her own spit as well.

“Are you serious?” The ends of her brows were nearly touching as she questioned his words.

“Hey, hey — I’m just trying to say I’ve never gotten it this good.” A breathy chuckle sounds from his mouth, and he uses his hand to brush his hair back. “Until you, of course.”

Y/n’s head tilts to the side as their eyes meet, one smirk mirroring the other. “The last time I gave someone head was in highschool.”

Yunho found it hard to believe and somewhat amusing. If he had known her then and he knew she sucked that well, then he would’ve had her to himself up until now.

“So, what? You took a degree in blowjobs?” He receives a rather weak blow against his knee from what he had said, but he only chuckles. 

“A master’s.” And she played along anyways.

The room was filled with soft laughter, before the two would end up locking eyes like their pair had magnets drawn to the pair of the other. It was oddly sweet and warm in Y/n’s chest, as she could see how the lines of his eyes softened along with his gaze. But that was until she’d look down.

“Would you mind hopping on the table? Or are you in for a ride?”

Of course. They weren’t done. Thankfully he’d asked, because then, she was suddenly reminded of the pool in between her legs. 

Instead of giving him an answer, she’d undo her pants. And before taking a step forward, Yunho had already reached for her hand, carefully pulling her closer with a stupid, sly grin on his face. His eyes were locked on the damp part of her panties. He could see the imprint of her clit, and the slit over her panties from how the fabric stuck to her because of how wet she was. He could also smell the scent of her slick, from which he felt his cock twitch in response.

She didn’t know it, but even back when his cock was still settled in her mouth, he had already been thinking of how he’d get back to her, and how her pussy would be. He was almost certain she’d milk his cock so well. He would have had her bent over her desk, but she was already on top of him and this, of course, was nothing for him to complain about. She lowers a bit of her weight, causing his tip to rub against her clothed clit. 

He needed to feel it, before anything else. And so his hand reached down in between their bodies, fingers immediately making contact with the wet patch on her panties, rubbing circles on her clit twice. She thought right about his hands and those lengthy fingers. They knew exactly what to do with her. She held onto his shoulders tightly when she felt the fabric over her hole being pushed to the side. The tip of his finger dipped, making some of her fluids drip down to his palm. Then he pushed it in. He feels her gummy flesh surround and hug his finger, but before he delved deeper, he adds another. For a moment he watches how her cunt took his fingers, then looks up to see her sweet little face — teeth sunk into her bottom lip and eyelids heavy as he slowly pumped his digits in and out of her tight little hole.

“Are they as good as you imagined they would feel?” His voice was quiet and thick, breath hot against her face as he whispered to her. “You’re strangling my fingers, babe… hope you don’t…  suffocate my cock.”

She was slowly going mental the more he drilled her fingers into, having found her thoughts emptied of any rational once and replaced with every lustful word he speaks to her. He had been holding her stable with his other hand that resides just above her ass holding her up.

“Tell me you want my cock baby…’’ There was a pleading in his tone, gravelly yet almost desperate, murmuring as his fingers seeked deeper into her.

“Y-Yun… Yunho…” 

Her short and faint whispers of his name had his hips bucking up without his full consciousness. “Say my name again and ask for it… ask for my cock, baby.”

It was difficult for her to even construct a reply because of her soft gasps turning into quiet moans.

“Yunho… can I have your c-cock? Please… fuck… fuck me…”

The thing was all for show, to tease her and himself, stalling their climax a little bit more, because he knew this wouldn’t be the typical sex for him.

He quickly withdraws his fingers from her to which she’d whimper from, but then his hands grasped her hips and lifted her so that she was positioned right above his erect dick. Her hands clenched on his sweatshirt that he would swiftly take off and throw some place on the floor. Her hands roamed his body like a map, feeling his bare skin, and the firmness of his muscles that were only in her imagination almost an hour ago. To make it even, he sneaks his hands into her shirt, and underneath the cups of her bra, finding her breasts.

“Can you take this off?” He asks her as he fondled her mounts, thumbs toying with her stiff nipples.

She could only nod whilst she kept her lip bitten down with the sounds of her whimpering. She slowly pulled the clothing up and over her head, leaving it to fall on the ground. But while she does so, Yunho’s hands move elsewhere — to her waist, holding her stable as he shifts his hips, driving his tip into her opening. He looks up to watch her face as he moves his hips again, then holds hers to guide her down to meet him.

There was a slight tremble in his body as he bottoms out. Her cunt swallowed his cock whole and enveloped it tightly, so much so that he couldn’t help but throw his head back. 

“So fucking good… Y/n…” He kept his thrusts slow at first, guiding her movements until she was moving on her own.

Their pace gradually quickened, and he’d take a peek down, watching how her pussy took him.

“You’re taking my cock so well,” “Your cock feels so good…” — the two had spoken at the same time, which he found to be comical, but under pornographic means.

“Yeah?” He smirks and fucks harder into her, but then his smirk would fade upon realizing how close he actually was to cuming.

But it could only be perfect timing, because you were already clenching around him, as close to finishing just as he was. And as if it was meant to be, they were looking into each other’s eyes as he continued driving his cock into her, until he felt it threatening to seep out. He pulls himself out of her by lifting her up and settling her on his lap just as she came. His cum spurted onto her stomach and dripped down in between them.

The two pants in chorus, foreheads pressed together as they kept their gazes bound to each other. 

“The script…” Yunho chuckles at the first words she’d utter after taking her fill of his dick, as if she didn't do just that. 

“It can wait.” 

“I can't.” She was about to hop off of him, but he kept her in place. “Another round can wait-”

She was shut off by his lips, moving against her in a gentle glide, and she reciprocated, because who the hell wouldn't?

The kiss, however, was quite light-hearted, and thank heavens because she thinks she wouldn't be able to take him without a mental check-up. 

When the kiss was broken, Yunho moved the chair they were on closer to her computer.

“Yunho, maybe you’d want to put your shirt on at least?” Y/n was caught off guard by a wee bit because of his suddenness. 

“Why? You're not enjoying the view anymore?” He receives a hit on his chest for that, and he’d only cackle his ass off. “Now let's see that bug you were talking about.”

Yunho scrolls through the source code to scan for the error, and Y/n just rests herself against him, staring at his face shone over by the high luminance of the computer monitor.

“It's a mandel. I need to rewrite everything.” Her mumbling caught his full attention. And he’d smile. 

He brings his face closer to hers, letting the tips of their noses touch as he teased her. “Maybe for you. But if I end up fixing it without redoing the script, you owe me one.” She giggled quietly, and continued to stare at him, which he’d eventually call her out for. “I don't get what's so funny, miss.”

She went silent for about a minute, and Yunho thought he had to speak again until she beat him to it. “You know, besides that bug, I’ve been thinking about…” She pauses, but before Yunho tries to speak again, she finishes her thought. “You. The whole day ever since you arrived.”

She watches his reaction, which would just be a silly grin from him. 

“And yes, I fantasized quite a lot. You were in the way of me trying to figure out how to fix that bug-”

“Oh, so it's my fault?”

“Yes!”

They both paused for a few seconds, before eventually laughing at how the situation turned into sheer ridiculousness. 

“What can I say, I'm irresistible.”

“Oh, shut up.”

The two would rest from the jokes and the light bickering, and Yunho would continue to operate the IDE, checking and editing what was needed to be of her script. The silence became their comfort as time progressed, and both bodies basked in it, serving as the only warmth in the air-conditioned office — considering that they were both still half-naked. 

Though, curiosity always beats the cat. He feels the warmth, becoming a heat low in his stomach. Maybe it was unusual, or maybe it was because Y/n still lies almost completely bare on top of him.

“So… did we do everything you fantasized about?” His voice was once again in a raspy whisper as he spoke, moving his hand along her thigh, and-

She snores. 

He immediately stops in his tracks and looks over her slumbering form. He knew she was tired from work. And he figured that them fucking was going over her limits. He continued the work he had initially come for, and upon finding the bug they were previously debating on, he chuckles. She was right. 

It was a shame. He sounded too confident for his own good, but at the same time, she admitted to being distracted, not exactly refuting his claims against her classification of the bug. It would take a lot of time to configure, more work and less breaks. But he's here now, with his little boss lady resting on top of her. This seemed to be her first actual break in a while as he's observed from her manner of snoring and heavy-like-a-corpse body laying on him. If this was how she preferred to have her breaks after all, then who was he to deny her of it. 

He definitely doesn't mind giving her head in return for her next break. 

part 1 (??)

[lacunammmm]

The Overhaul Arc Strikes Back: Sir Nighteye- Abusive Hypocrite, The Irrelevant Big 3, And Mirio "I'm You But Stronger" Togata

For me, I believe the Overhaul arc was the beginning of the end.

We just come off the Deku vs Kacchan 2 fight, and now there's a guy we've never heard of and his two friends who are super powerful in a group called the Big Three. Nejire and Amajiki never do anything of much importance and could easily have simply not existed. Nejire is the token girl of the group and the biggest moment she had in this series was winning a beauty pageant. Meanwhile, Amajiki and Mirio get their own fights. Nejire had to share hers with the rest of the women who went on the Overhaul raid. Suneater is equally pointless. There's very little time that the audience gets to connect to him. Why should we care about him or his shyness, and what is the payoff for this?

And then we have Mirio. Allegedly, Mirio is the closest person to being the number 1 hero at the moment and he hasn't even graduated. Screw Endeavor and Hawks, the number 2 and 3 heroes. Aizawa thinks you two ain't shit.

He then proceeds to solo the class (except Bakugo, who isn't allowed to lose, so he's on house arrest at the time) and he's so cool and awesome. He's just a bigger, stronger Deku if he was born with a "weak" quirk instead of quirkless. A living "I'm you but stronger" meme designed to make Deku feel insecure and question if he's better than him. The answer to this question is heartbreaking.

So he takes Izuku to Nighteye's agency, and then we get yet another adult in Izuku's life who acts like an asshole to him. Once again, Izuku has to "prove" himself to another person, despite the fact that the greatest hero in the universe already deemed him worthy and is doing everything to ensure Izuku is safe, happy, and successful. Oh no! Nighteye knows about OFA and he's upset that instead of All Might from Temu getting it, Izuku did.

Why does Izuku need the approval of Nighteye? Why should he have to prove anything to him? He was well within his rights to just walk out and look for another hero to work with. And he should have, given his first exposure to the guy was watching him tickle torture a sidekick for not entertaining him enough. If he'd do that to Bubblegirl and she's been here for years, why would you be any different, Midoriya? You're telling me All Might couldn't pull some strings? People don't owe him some favors? Failing that, if Izuku did not want to benefit from nepotism, he could go patrol with one of his teachers.

Working with Aizawa would be interesting and challenging for him, and having 1 on 1 time with his teacher would get Izuku the same sort of training Shinso got. Is this particularly useful for Izuku? Maybe. He could apply the binding cloth lessons to his Black Whip later. And Aizawa has a strong and efficient fighting style that works even for a man without super strength. What could Izuku accomplish if he had Aizawa's skills AND super strength and speed?

But back to Nighteye.

What's Nighteye ever actually done? What's he achieved outside of All Might's shadow? Nothing. The guy's a nobody with a stupidly overpowered quirk he angsts over.

He abandoned All Might for one of the dumbest reasons you can come up with.

Let's recap:

-Nighteye believes that his predictions always come true.

-Nothing he or anyone else has done has ever changed one of his predictions. It seems deterministic in that the event WILL happen.

-He proceeds to predict All Might's future, tells the guy he's going to die if he keeps up what he's doing. And then he gets mad that All Might didn't listen?

-Is he stupid? We JUST established that your predictions cannot be altered! All Might's future was set the moment you made that prediction! According to the knowledge he had at the time, All Might is a train on a track that's going to an inevitable destination. -To reiterate, because he predicted All Might's future, nothing anyone can do will prevent All Might from dying. With the information they had at hand at the moment.

-And this guy's big idea is that he gets butthurt about All Might choosing to remain a hero when both of them know it's the only option and his predictions cannot be avoided? Really? He's a hypocrite, not a tragic figure. The story never bothers to point this out.

His one real contribution to the world is that he found Mirio and decided to mold this guy into an inferior copy of All Might.

And Mirio is definitely inferior. The meeting with Overhaul and how he gave Eri back to the guy is so comically incompetent that a better narrative willing to make characters suffer for their mistakes would have made this into a situation that broke Mirio and Deku.

So, here's Mirio's thought process:

-He sees a clearly abused little girl and their suspect, Kai Chisaki, who they're investigating.

-Kai claims to be her dad and he buys it.

-He doesn't want to blow the investigation into the guy, so he gives the child back to him. The goal is to not make him suspicious of the heroes being on to him.

-He believes they could just save the girl later when they move on Kai.

-He's Mister Status Quo and doesn't break protocol or disobey his superiors. All Might would never.

Now then, put yourself in Overhaul's shoes. I wrote a parody about just this scene, but really think about it.

You find out that your men are so incompetent that they can't even keep a child contained, and you go looking for the walking plot device that is the lynchpin for your plans:

-Your captive bumped into two heroes. You're totally prepared to end these fool's lives. They're 100% going to cause problems and take the obvious abuse victim away from you, or at least bring her to a police station to sort things out. Game over if that happens.

-They just decide to hand the girl back to you without a fight? Why? You made it kinda obvious you were gonna ice them to the point where Eri decided she didn't want to be responsible for their deaths and walked over to you.

-What motivation would they have to ignore the obvious sus nature of a bandaged girl dressed like a prisoner who is clearly terrified?

If you're smart, you'd think, once you take Eri home:

-I got caught with a kid the heroes could find out I'm not supposed to have.

-I'd better lay low for a while. This city isn't safe anymore. Time to skip town.

If Overhaul had a brain in his head, they'd have never seen that little girl again and their investigation would have failed. If anyone reading this had this happen to them, they'd come to the same conclusion. An alleged genius and crime boss on Overhaul's level should have been dust in the wind. Eri was also a mistake. A damsel who exists to trigger the audience's protective instincts and whom the author has zero concern with exploring her inner world, trauma or healing besides her smiling at a performance. A plot device, not a character. She exists just to craft the bullets Overhaul uses and so Izuku can go 100% and have a dramatic battle without dying afterwards. So, this arc has Mirio lose his quirk to Overhaul's bullet, and then Deku is the one who saves the day. When Deku offers him the quirk, Mirio turns it down, knowing that Eri could give him his power back. Where the arc faltered (again) was that it didn't just leave well enough alone. It had to add the plot point of OFA being a death curse. If a quirk user has OFA, it gradually kills them because of the strain of having multiple quirks. The Fourth OFA user died at 40 of "old age" and had cracks form in his body. So, Deku goes from the super special cool guy who will save anyone and risk his life for strangers and he's chosen because of his drive to save. To being the best and only option because he wasn't born with a quirk. Even if All Might had wanted to give the power to Mirio, doing so would have just killed him. Later, they even state that OFA has grown so powerful that Deku will be its last user. No one else can contain it, even another quirkless person, as it's power has grown so much. So if Nighteye had his way, the world would have been doomed. They'd have gifted OFA to Mirio, who would get very sick and then no one else would be able to contain the power by the point where he decided to transfer it. Great. This arc decided to transform Dkeu from being an everyman who could be anyone, to being a chosen one. His biology is what mattered most, not his heroic heart. If he'd been born with a useless quirk and not quirkless, OFA would have killed Deku. Deku is one of TWO known quirkless people in the series, that All Might knows, by the way. There's Deku and there's Melissa. The options aren't exactly plentiful.

The Overhaul arc was a mistake. It introduced a bunch of irrelevant characters who do very little going forward: Rocklock, Fat Gum, Nighteye's sidekicks who go MIA after this arc, the other two members of the big three. Mirio is a Deku foil who overstays his welcome and ends the series as the number 1 hero for no real reason. Thus proving he was indeed the better hero. Deku gave up being a hero and even with a super suit, he only wants to be a hero when he's not being a teacher. Mirio lost his quirk, got his quirk back and then kept being a hero. Deku didn't even try. Also, Overhaul ends the story alive and Tomura is dead. So, was Overhaul actually a better villain than Tomura, who we learned was actually a puppet his entire life and AFO planned everything for him? Well, one of them is still breathing and has his mentor figure alive. His friends are also in prison and none of them are dead as far as we know. Meanwhile, Tomura died, he failed to save his friends, he failed to be a hero for the villains, and he failed to destroy everything. Society still looks mostly the same after his death, the heroes just get an undeserved utopian ending as a reward for failing to do anything but maintain the status quo. They did the exact same thing their predecessors would have done and have done in the past and got a different result because of author favoritism.

[lupiinee]

I don't know if it matters, but as someone who identifies as Trans, I feel it's important to share.

I identify as trans. I've been going as Peter for about 5 years, and I can't tell you exactly when it happened, but my earliest memory came from when I was speaking to another 6 year old in primary school and I said to him "I feel at times like a boy". He told me I couldn't be a boy because I was a girl.

Fast forward, these feelings never really went away. I would prefer doing boy centric things, hated makeup, hated pink, hated dressing up and making myself look pretty, hated the idea of being married and having babies as a woman. But for the sake of my parents, I pushed myself into these binaries because I thought it would make them happy. As i got older, i did everything society told me I had to do to be a successful woman.

I was deeply miserable. I always thought people hated how they looked in the mirror. I always thought that it was normal to want to not be a person.

As I grew up, I could not relate to the girls around me, they all wanted to date fictional men, I wanted to be them. It took me years to realise that emulating male characters, from what they dressed to what they did, to how they acted, was a desperate desire to be seen as a man. I always saw myself as the man in relationships, and would liken myself to the "man of the house" when my dad was away for long work trips.

I hated my long hair and I cut it short for the first time at 11 years old. But it wasn't short enough. I kept getting pixie cuts and Karen cuts, but I desperately wanted short hair like the boys in my class. I wore man-ish outfits, bought from the men's section. When I bought my first binder it was gender euphoria like I couldn't believe. I sobbed in the bathroom for an hour.

When I buzzed my hair for the first time, I thought i was doing it to emulate the punks from the 70s and 80s, but it hit harder than that, I could see me for the first time.

Every time I cosplayed, I chose male characters because I always felt stupid wearing a dress and parading around in it. My first cosplay was the Winter Soldier and when people called me a man I was elated.

But, my life has been shit. I don't hold back when I talk about disability, but it's made my trust for doctors disintegrate. If you think it is difficult now for trans people, you have no idea what it is like for disabled trans people. I have tried so hard to be heard, been to multiple therapists who all shrug their shoulders and pass me off. Doctors who don't care, a government that doesn't care, a society that doesn't care.

I'm still coming to terms with being trans, I don't know if I'll ever properly transition. I want to, but I don't think it's ever going to be on the cards for me.

As my disability has worsened, my weight has gained. Wearing a binder is painful most days. But i do try and wear it when I can. It's so expensive trying to go private to get top surgery or even a breast tissue reduction that i have no hope of ever saving up for it. I have lived in poverty and as a result, debt, all of my adult life, so I know it will be tough if I want to proceed privately.

Strangers on the Internet know more about this than anyone else in my life. Because I feel safe with you instead of those surrounding me. Being called Peter, being me, on here, makes me feel seen. Makes me feel valid.

The point of this post is to say this:

If you are questioning - you are valid.

If you have transitioned - you are valid

If you can't transition - you are valid

If you don't feel like you want to transition or don't need to - you are valid

If you feel you only need to partly transition - you are valid

If you feel you don't know - you are valid

And finally: fuck j*k.r. fuck tr*ump. Fuck star*mer, fuck every single person who believes trans people don't deserve a good life, fuck the health system that does nothing to help. Support trans kids, support trans adults. Support, learn, educate, raise trans voices, because it's the only way we will ever be heard.

[curlytheintrovert]

Why I Love Reylo (Pt.2)

(My old post for reasons unknown got deleted😭)

One of my other favorite parts of this couple is that they are atypically gender reversed. It’s one of the many reasons this ship is so intriguing and unique compared to others. Let me explain. Typically in most hetero romances the man is the abrasive, closed off one at first and is generally a prickly little shit. While the girl is typically softer, a little more compassionate and open minded. This not the case with Rey and Kylo.

Rey’s first interaction with Kylo is shooting a blaster at him multiple times in succession. Granted she does have a Force vision of Kylo at Maz’s which makes her justifiably hostile and afraid of him. During the interrogation scene Kylo reads her mind and speaks her thoughts out loud: she wants to kill him. Rey calls him a creature in a mask and angrily tells him to get out of her head. And then proceeds to spit Kylo’s greatest fear back in his face with such venom. I love how she snarls: “You. You’re afraid.”

Kylo on the other hand only defends himself from her blasts and force stops her from shooting any further. He gently says: “The girl I’ve heard so much about.” Kylo easily could have dragged her away or thrown her into the hands of the troopers beside him—but instead he makes Rey sleep and scoops her up into his arms bridal style. In the interrogation room Kylo sees Rey’s fear and says she’s his guest. He takes off his mask. Then explains things calmly—never raising his voice above a murmur. The curiosity about her is strong as Kylo probes her mind and the responses to what he finds there are emotional. I love so much how he says “Don’t be afraid, I feel it too.” It just feels so incredibly kind considering the circumstances—like that was the first little glimpse of Ben we got.

The shift that happens when Rey uses the force back on Kylo is what really sets the tone for the rest of their relationship. Rey attacks and responds negatively—Kylo gently deflects and tries to connect. If you watch throughout the rest of the films this dynamic doesn’t really change. Almost all of their force bonds in TLJ are similar: Rey being barbarous and Kylo being benign. A majority of their saber fights are like this too—Kylo plays defense, is hesitant to pull out his saber multiple times or looks like he’s doesn’t want to fight her period.

See what I mean?! Rey is hostile and prickly—Kylo is open minded and gentle.

The other gender swapped aspect is that in a way Kylo is the damsel of this pairing. He’s trapped far away, lonely and miserable, in a figurative tower. Rey fights Luke for his cause and goes to rescue and save him if she can. But I also see Kylo as an emotional damsel too. He’s so lost, and hurt and twisted. Rey offers him a way back—she’s the only one who can—and in the long run is the very reason he is able to become Ben Solo again. But it’s when Rey lets her guard down and mellows her prejudice that their relationship flourishes. Kylo/Ben is already ready and waiting to love and be loved…

Man, this pairing is complex and fun to analyze!

[sideeffx]

time for some controversy all fandom specific questions are related to succession 1, 4, 6, 13

the character everyone gets wrong

I could say Shiv but I'm simply going to throw a curveball and say that it's Kendall. People bitch and moan about the whole babygirlification of Tom yet seem to allow it to happen to Kendall on the basis that his emotional vulnerability makes him girly teengirl coded bc they too, have fallen into the stereotype of masculinity fed to us by television. In reality Kendall is every single straight man who has a mid life crisis and proceeds to cope with it by being an inescapable fuckup. He wants to believe that he's just as smart, shrewd and business savvy as his father and yet every single time it blows up in his face because he lacks the ability to introspect and admit he too, like anybody else has weaknesses. He uses this facade of emotional vulnerability to justify his consistent neglect of his wife and child and drug use and ultimately refuses to change despite the clear problems it creates.

Feminizing him completely misses the point of his character and if you'll allow me to sound psychotic here wraps back around to misogyny. Because what are you pushing if not the idea that women are emotional and men are purely logical, thus a man crying or telling you he's sad makes him into a woman. Let's think.

4. what was the last straw that made you finally block that annoying person?

Every single person that keeps trying to find hidden meaning in random shots of this show gets hardblocked because this isn't the fucking type of show for that shit and I can tell you all got your media analysis ability from the exact same 5 tumblr blogs that were running around fandoms and have never expanded beyond that. There is more ways to tell a story than subliminal meaning and while the show has some of that it's not the entire foundation of the script.

Also this looking for hidden meanings is always a weird way to absolve the roy children of blame because of course I can't have a favorite character that does anything wrong or else that makes me a bad person.

6. which ship fans are the most annoying?

tomgregs tbh even though I like it myself but I also like it while simultaneously thinking Greg fucking sucks and is annoying so I'm a bit off the beaten path here.

13. worst blorboficiation

See: My thoughts on Kendall in #1. I really do have such a bone to pick with his stans. I guess my other opinion would be Greg but it's not blorbofication so much as the illusion of an everyman to root for despite the show making it clear Greg is far more incompetent than every single one of the roy children and even Tom and is only here as a glorified nepotism hire. His idiocy at times is more dangerous than anything Roman could do and his attempts to "outsmart" others are exactly the type of thing your average 16 yr old high schooler who uses reddit would post when a thread comes up about how YOU would fare in the world of Succession.

[jtl-fics]

Math Nerd AU

I’ve got quite a few time travel AFTG fics banging around in my head but by far the funniest one is this:

Neil dies in 40s to a drunk driver after a respectable professional Exy career, two olympic golds, a very successful and healthy relationship, a steady post-injury career as Ichirou Moriyama’s preferred accountant (kept himself squeaky clean) and years to get his shit together. He wakes up back early on into his runaway life with his mom and is immediately like “oh no I’m NOT doing this shit again.”

He makes a lot of changes, mostly for Andrew’s benefit but also gets Mary to the Hatfords, and gets himself set up in Ichirou’s confidence again because man he’s gonna play Exy again but Ichirou was actually a very solid boss if you’re competent and Neil is very good at managing finances.

Ichirou had plans for Neil. He’s waiting for his father to pass before he brings Neil fully out in the open as one of his since his father is still demanding that the Wesninski heir be given over to his brother and Ichirou is not about to let the only accountant who has ever gotten him a completely legal tax refund go to the NEST. He’s also not about to let the Butcher near Neil so he puts Neil off in the middle of nowhere with a steady paycheck and orders to graduate highschool. Neil picks Millport.

Hernandez still notices that no one ever comes to Neil’s games and that the kid is driven but doesn’t make any real attachments with his teammates despite Millport becoming the Arizona State Champs the year Neil leads the team. So he sends tapes to Wymack and Kevin. Neil is surprised to see them since he’d planned on never getting anywhere near Andrew after he set things up for the blond. (Killed Drake, paid some people to legally adopt and look after Andrew, got CPS to investigate Tilda properly, paid off the right people so that the couple who took in Andrew took in Aaron too, and paid for them to move out to SC (it’s close to the twins remaining family) and then Tilda managed to die on her own from an OD and the twins got the money without Andrew needing to have any part in it.)

Neil ends up signing for the Foxes despite Ichirou having plans for Neil to start attending University of Texas (Great Accounting Program) in the fall. Neil of course completely fails to tell Ichirou this since Ichirou hadn’t said anything beyond finishing highschool and if he had plans for Neil then he should have told him.

Neil, the utterly self-sufficient adult that he is, proceeds to just be the most bizarre stabilizing force the foxes have ever encountered. He knows all about their shit, their issues, their triggers, and how to help them. The Foxes all kind of crave that stability and Neil can take whatever they say unflinchingly. He’ll give as good as he gets but he also makes team breakfast pretty much every morning after he finishes his absurdly early run. Kevin is in heaven with his Striker pick (Neil in this thing is so incredibly boring and well-adjusted that Andrew just cannot believe that he’s a spy so Kevin and Neil start night practices almost immediately & Neil shows Kevin drills that he and Future!Kevin had made and Kevin is just like “I am so good at picking talent. I am a god.”)

The 3 things that make this so funny (at least to me) is:

1. All the Foxes just like not understanding why the hell Neil is a Fox (They’re glad he’s there but it feels like a clerical error that such a nice well-adjusted guy is on the team) until they see him without a shirt and until immediately after the Kathy Ferdinand show where Ichirou shows up and is like “Palmetto doesn’t even have a nationally ranked accounting program!? Also what if this sport gives you a TBI and you can’t do my taxes anymore????”

2. Andrew is just inexplicably and infuriatingly smitten, enamored, crushing, heart-eyes for this BORING ASS MATH NERD. Neil’s sense of humor was honed against Andrew so he’s got like a direct line to Andrew’s funny bone. He never has never once for even a second confused Aaron and Andrew (and they’re a lot closer in this fic because there’s no Tilda angst and the ‘parents’ handled getting Aaron’s rehabilitation handled off the books so he could have a future in medicine.) Even after the whole mob accountant reveal Andrew is seething because even with that Neil is just incredibly well-adjusted and normal despite all the insane shit going on with him. He propositions Neil when Neil mentions having a past male significant other but Neil has the AUDACITY to get all sad-eyed and say that he can’t be with Andrew because his heart still belongs to some CHUMP in his past. (Cue Current!Andrew having an unknowing bitter hatred / rivalry of Future!Andrew and swearing that he’ll woo Neil away from a guy who’s probably in the mob or shitty because Andrew hasn’t seen any evidence of Neil’s SO reaching out to him but he knows Neil isn’t lying)

3. One of the reasons that Andrew is inexplicably and infuriatingly attracted / smitten to Neil is that Future!Andrew did not really spend a lot of time in the future after Neil died and he’s slowly seeping through until Neil’s confrontation with his dad and then Future!Andrew fully wakes up and he’s PISSED because at least in the original timeline Andrew was inexplicably and infuriatingly attracted to the mysterious freshmen who was hiding his appearance, looked like he was seconds away from running across the country at all times, and had a whole aura of danger around him. Now he’s revealed that he’d have fallen for Neil no matter what because he fell for Neil when he was just a BORING ASS MATH NERD and WORST OF ALL Neil went and made him jealous of HIMSELF because Neil didn’t want to cheat on Andrew with ANDREW. What an asshole. He’s gotta kiss his entire face off and tell him that he’s never allowed to cross a street without Andrew again because if a drunk driver is going to take one of them out then it’s going to take BOTH of them out.

[silverstarssart]

The Owl House Incorrect Quotes

Eda: I feel so burnt out. Luz: Don’t worry, it'll be over soon. Eda: Are you gonna… assassinate me? Luz: Well not if you’re expecting it.

———

Hunter: I'll offer you some friendly advice- Gus: I don't want your advice. Hunter: Well, then consider it unfriendly advice.

———

Gus: Just be yourself. Hunter: Really? Gus, I have one day to win over Willow’s parents. Hunter: How long did it take for you guys to like me? Willow: Couple of weeks. Luz: Six months. Amity: Jury’s still out. Hunter: See Gus? ‘Just be yourself,’ what kind of garbage advice is that?!

———

Luz: Hold on, I can explain! Eda: Really? Can you now? Luz: I can if you give me a minute to think of a convincing lie.

———

King: Guess what I'm about to get! Eda: On my nerves.

———

Hunter: I can never give Luz shit because I’m jealous of them. They look at their life and say, “Sweet! This is perfect!” Hunter: I look at my life and say, “Welp. Time to get drunk.”

———

Mattholomule: I have a new hoodie. Gus: Wrong. Gus: We have a new hoodie.

———

Willow: Is something burning? Hunter, leaning seductively on the counter: Just my desire for you. Willow: Hunter, the toaster is literally on fire.

———

Luz: Eat the rich!

Amity, internally: PLEASE do

———

Camilla: Wow, great work on the Halloween decorations. Where did you get the fake skeletons? Gus: Fake?

———

Luz: So, Amity, do you have a crush on anyone? Amity, sweating bullets: The only crush I have is this crushing anxiety.

———

Hooty: honk. Gus: WHAT. Hooty: HONK. Gus: WHAT DOES HONK MEAN THIS TIME YOU WHIMSICAL PIECE OF SH—?????

———

Eda: What should I do? Lilith: holds out hand May I suggest dinner with a friend? Eda: Well, none of my friends are available, so I guess I'll have to go with you.

———

Luz: When life gives you lemons, don't make lemonade. Make life take the lemons back! Get mad! I don't want your damn lemons, what the hell am I supposed to do with these? Demand to see life's manager! Make life rue the day it thought it could give Luz lemons! Do you know who I am? I'm the person who's gonna burn your house down! With the lemons! I'm gonna get my engineers to invent a combustible lemon that burns your house down!

———

Eda: I don’t know the first thing about clothes. Pretty much all I can do is look at something and tell you if it’s clothes or not. This chair? Not clothes.

———

Raine: I’m genuinely surprised you haven’t gotten arrested, let alone gotten a felony yet. Eda: Nat 20 Charisma. Raine: That is NOT how that works-

———

Gus: We all have our demons. Gus, grabbing Mattholumule: This one’s mine.

———

Hunter: Willow, is that legal? Willow: When there's no cops around, anything's legal!

———

Mattholumule: I love you. Gus, not paying attention: What was that? Mattholumule: I said I’m selling you to the zOo-

———

Eda: I’m in love with you. Raine: We called off the prank war last night at midnight, dork. Eda: I know. Raine: Ah. Okay. Um. Cool. Neat. Very cool. Cool. Cool. Coolcoolcool-

———

Willlow: Since we're in a relationship now, your clothes are my clothes too. Don't ask me why I have your shirt on, this is our shirt. Hunter: Fine, but when I come strutting in with your fuzzy socks I don't want to hear shit.

———

Raine: We’re getting married, b*! Eda: And we're about to make it everybody else's problem.

———

Willow: My future partner must be brave, strong, intelligent, successful and organized. Hunter: steps on a caterpillar and proceeds to drop to their knees, apologizing profusely Willow: That one. I want that one.

———

Amity, watching Hunter stare at Willow: Why don’t you go talk to her? Hunter, sarcastically: Oh. Yeah, sure. Gus, joining in: What? So you go tell her she’s cute, what’s the worst that could happen? Hunter: She could hear me.

———

Raine: How many children do you have? Eda: Biologically, legally, or emotionally? Because there is a difference.

———

[violetjedisylveon]

Incorrect Kaesoka quotes cause they're funny

Kaeden, at Ahsoka's Funeral: I need a moment with her. Other rebels: of course.*they leave* Kaeden, leaning over Ahsoka's coffin: okay, listen here you little shit, I know you're not dead Ahsoka: yeah, no shit.

. . .

*Ahsoka falls over* Kaeden: Ahsoka! Are you alright? Ahsoka: Is that you, God? Kaeden: What? Ahsoka: It's just, you sound a lot more like Kaeden than I expected.

. . .

Ahsoka: Caffeine no longer keeps me awake while I work, so instead I have Kaeden periodically send me texts saying ‘we need to talk.’ Ahsoka: It gives me the right amount of adrenaline and fear I need to keep going.

Ahsoka: Do you want to know your gay name? Kaeden: My... my gay name? Ahsoka: Yeah, it's your first name- Kaeden: Haha. Very funny Ahsoka- Ahsoka: *gets down on one knee* And my last name. Kaeden: Oh- oh my god.

. . .

Ahsoka: Did you know you remind me of all 26 letters of the alphabet? Kaeden: What? Like J F K W S Q X- Ahsoka: No, like, U R A Q T. Kaeden: Awwww!

. . .

Kaeden: Okay, I’m going to get the wedding cake. Ahsoka: Perfect, while you do that I’ll check on the ring bear. Kaeden: ... Kaeden: You mean ring bearER, right? Ahsoka: ... Kaeden: Look me in the eyes and tell me you are not going to bring a dangerous wild animal to our wedding. (Not part of quote: Ahsoka gave an Akul buddy the ring bearer duty I decided)

. . .

Kaeden: I’ve been dropping them the most insanely obvious hints for like a year now. No response. Ahsoka: Wow. They sound stupid.Kaeden: But they’re not. They’re really smart actually. Just dense. Ahsoka: Maybe you need to be more obvious? Like, I don’t know… “Hey! I love you!” Kaeden: I guess you’re right. Hey Ahsoka, I love you. Ahsoka: See! Just say that! Kaeden: Holy fucking shit. Ahsoka: If that flies over their head then, sorry Kaeden, but they're too dumb for you. Kaeden: Ahsoka.

. . .

Kaeden: Hey, Ahsoka, what do you think it would be like if we had kids? Ahsoka: What would it be like? Inconvenient, mostly. Kaeden: No, I mean, what would they be like, the kids? You ever think about it? Ahsoka: Can't really say I have. Kaeden: You know, for someone as eccentric as yourself, you can be boring as fuck sometimes. Ahsoka: Sorry, Kaeden. For what it's worth, I'm picturing them now. A boy and a girl. Two perfect little freaks of nature raised by people who've clearly got no business bringin' up anybody.

. . .

Ahsoka: Being gay is a constant battle between "I wish to sit on a window bench with my lover, our legs tangling as we listen to the birds" and "Hey, let's go throw rocks at Storm troopers" and I think that's very sexy of us. Kaeden: If the window's open and you time it right, you can do both.

. . .

Kaeden: We’re getting married, bitches! Ahsoka: And we're about to make it everybody else's problem. (Not part of quote: i wrote a short fic that was basically this quote last year, hehe, it's funny)

. . .

Kaeden: My future partner must be brave, strong, intelligent, successful and organized. Ahsoka: *steps on a caterpillar and proceeds to drop to their knees and sob while apologizing profusely* Kaeden: That one. I want that one.

. . .

*about the darth Vader Anakin connection* Ahsoka: I think I just figured something out. I got to go. Kaeden: Aren't you forgetting something? Ahsoka: Uuh...*hesitantly kisses Kaeden's forehead before running out.* Kaeden: No, pay your bill! Damn, who raised you?

. . .

Miara: I know you love them. Kaeden: I am not in love with Ahsoka! Miara, staring at Kaeden: I never said who... Kaeden: *realizes* Kaeden: Shit. Well, anyways-

. . .

Kaeden, holding a rock: Ahsoka just gave this to me and said "I feel like you deserve the moon but all I can give you is a rock". Miara: If you don't marry her, I will.

. . .

Miara: Do you mind if I slyly mention that you’re single? Ahsoka: Do not do that. Miara: You won’t even notice! Kaeden, entering: Mira, you wanted to see me again? Miara: Ahsoka's single Ahsoka:

. . .

Miara: I dare you to kiss the next person who walks into this room. Kaeden: Screw that, I’m not kissing any of you. *Ahsoka walks in* Kaeden: Fine, I’ll do it. Rules are rules you know.

. . .

Kaeden: Hi. Miara: Hey, did you do what I said? Did you tell her? Kaeden: I did. Miara: And what did she say? Kaeden: “Thank you.” Miara: You’re totally welcome. What’d she say? Kaeden: she said, “Thank you.” I said “I love you” and Ahsoka said, “Thank you.”

. . .

Ahsoka: Someone take me to art museums and make out with me. Kaeden: But they said not to touch the masterpieces. Ahsoka: Well somebody's got to pin the artwork to the wall. Miara, on a walkie talkie: This is Miara, those idiots are fucking around in the East wing again.

. . .

Ahsoka: Due to personal reasons, I will be fucking sinking to the bottom of the ocean in a large metal box. Miara: Did Kaeden say 'I love you' and you said 'Thanks'? Ahsoka: THE REASONS ARE PERSONAL–

This was fun! I'm doing more tomorrow, nobody can stop me!

[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."

[gay-salt-amber]

Moor on the hill incorrect quotes

Ravenpaw: I have a new hoodie.

Scourge: Wrong.

Scourge: We have a new hoodie

Flametail: Did Jayfeather just tell me they loved me for the first time?

Kestrelflight: Yeah, they did.

Flametail: And did I just do finger guns back?

Kestrelflight: Yeah, you did.

Antpelt: The best part of an oreo is the cookie part, not the frosting. Deal with it.

Breezepelt: Darkness without light is an abyss. Light without darkness is blinding. You cannot have a coin with one side.

Ivypool: YO SOCRATES! IT'S A FUCKING COOKIE!

Blackstar, sweating: Sol, there’s something I need to ask you-

Sol: Finally! You’re proposing!

Blackstar: How’d you know?

Sol: Blackstar, you’ve dropped the ring five times during dinner.

Sol: I even picked it up once.

Leona: What did you guys get in your yearbook?

Ruggie: 'Prettiest Smile'

Jack: 'Nicest Personality'

Epel: 'Most likely to start a bar fight'

Deuce: 'Least likely to start a bar fight, but most likely to win one'

Ruggie, to the other trainees: And remember, if I get harsh with you it is only because you’re doing it all wrong.

Breezepelt: Why are you on fire?

Ruggie: This is just how my day is going.

Mistberry: *eating a cinnamon roll*

Blossomfall: Cannibalism.

Mistberry: *confused chewing noises*

Snowtuft: I dare you to kiss the next person who walks into this room.

Frecklewish: Screw that, I’m not kissing any of you.

*Mapleshade walks in*

Frecklewish: Fine, I’ll do it. Rules are rules you know.

Ashfur: I still have no idea how I’m attracted to you...

Scourge: Yeah, well, you’re stuck with me, and no take backs, honey.

Dustpelt: Valentine’s day is just a consumerist holiday that holds no real value other than drive people insane buying heart shaped chocolates for their significant others and pos-

Firestar: I wrote you a poem.

Dustpelt, already crying: You did?

Antpelt: That was so hot, Breezepelt.

Breezepelt: I literally called the person who just flirted with you a degenterate dog and told them I hope they get dragged through the streets.

Antpelt: I'm so in love with you.

Breezepelt: What are you in the mood for?

Ivypool: World domination.

Breezepelt: That's a bit ambitious.

Ivypool: You are my world.

Breezepelt: Aww...

Ivypool:

Breezepelt:

Ivypool:

Breezepelt: OH

Jayfeather: Since we're in a relationship now, your clothes are my clothes too. Don't ask me why I have your shirt on, this is our shirt.

Flametail: Fine, but when I come strutting in with your fuzzy socks I don't want to hear shit.

Flametail: My future partner must be brave, strong, intelligent, successful and organized.

Kestrelflight: *steps on a caterpillar and proceeds to drop to their knees and sob while apologizing profusely*

Flametail: That one. I want that one.

Jayfeather: I’m in love with you.

Kestrelflight: We called off the prank war last night at midnight, dork.

Jayfeather: I know.

Kestrelflight: Ah. Okay. Um. Cool. Neat. Very cool. Cool. Cool. Coolcoolcool-

Epel, to Ruggie: We had a date!

Epel: *aggressively points to Hello Kitty Coloring Book*

*The gang's thoughts on stabbing*

Ravenpaw: Would never stab anyone.

Ashfur: Would stab someone in retaliation.

Brick: Yells "I won't hesitate, bitch!" first.

Bone: Would stab without warning.

Scourge: Would stab as a warning.

Snowtuft: Last night I found out Frecklewish is a sleep talker.

Mapleshade: Oh, really?

Snowtuft: "The mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell." Right. In. My. Ear. At 3am.

Maggottail: I love saying 'fuck me' because it can either be sexual or self-loathing and those are two things that describe me perfectly.

Darkstripe: Question. When they shot Bambi's mother, did you find that a sad moment...at all?

Tigerstar: I'm sure she's mounted on a nice wall in a fine home somewhere.

Antpelt: It's pretty cold outside.. wanna hold hands? We should stay close.

Ivypool, blushing: Okay.

Breezepelt: It's fucking summer.

Ashfur: Relationships should be 50/50. Bone cooks us dinner while I sit on the kitchen counter looking pretty.

Mistberry, throwing their head into Blossomfall's lap: Tell me I'm pretty!Blossomfall, lovingly stroking their hair: You're pretty fucking annoying, that's what you are.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Portrait of a Dangerous Man🎨1

Warnings: (series) non-consent sex and rape; slow creep; cucking; (this chapter) nothing as yet.

This is dark!mob!Clark Kent 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.

Synopsis: Your dream of having your work hung in an art show comes true but your first buyer is not all he seems to be.

Note: Yay, mob Clark. And I know what you’re saying right now, enough with Clark Kent! I get it haha. Promise, for a while, this will be the last I do of him. I have Lee fic in the work right now, the early development of medieval Peter, and I’m still sitting on some Loki ft. an exchange student... and then all my other series of course!

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

You stood against the wall, chewing your lip as you looked around the gallery. You should be ecstatic, you should be floating around on a cloud, but all you could feel was crushing anxiety. It was truly a dream come true; your art hanging on the wall. Only three pieces, but it was there, and your name was below it in print.

You tugged on the waist of your dress and teetered in your heels. It was a borrowed outfit, you couldn’t afford anything appropriate to the upscale venue. The classic starving artist, or almost. You slipped your phone from your purse and up your sleeve. You subtly checked the time and for the little chat icon in the corner. Still no message.

Marcus was almost an hour late. He texted just after the event opened to warn you he was caught up with work but you worried he wouldn’t show up at all. It wasn’t his fault his boss was a jackass but you weren’t prepared to face this alone. You dropped your phone back into your slender purse and snapped it shut.

Vanessa, the gallery owner, made you flinch as she appeared almost out of the air. You smiled at her shyly and stopped chewing your lip.

“You should mingle,” she said, “you have an interested buyer. You might have a few more if you come out from the corner.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so nervous,” you confessed, “I-- thank you so much for this opportunity.”

“You earned it,” she touched your arm daintily, “all those hard hours working the back room, I couldn’t not hang a few pieces.”

You fixed your posture and tried to seem as confident as her. Your income came solely from hours of at-home data entry as you volunteered at the gallery in your few hours between. It was all worth it and maybe if you sold something tonight, Vanessa would feature you work again and you wouldn’t need to spend the bulk of your days staring at tiny font.

“So, where’s this buyer?” you asked hopefully.

“That’s my girl,” Vanessa trilled, “he seems very interested.”

She led you across the room, stopping to greet other artists and old friends with a kiss on the cheek and deep laughter. You’d met them all before as you were often working at these events. It was your first time as one of them.

When at last you neared your little stretch of the wall, a man stood with his head slightly back as he stared at your proto-renaissance portraits. He was tall and his broad shoulders strained the rich fabric of his jacket. His dark hair was neatly parted and a slight curl marked the front above the shadow of scruff poking out along his jawline.

“Mr. Kent,” Vanessa chimed, “I found her.”

He turned to look at you and his deep blue eyes struck you. He smiled between you and the gallery owner, his chiseled jaw even more defined by the gesture.

“This is Mr. Kent,” she introduced you in turn, “I believe he was interested in the larger piece.”

“All three, if you don’t have another buyer lined up,” he intoned, “I think they belong together.”

“All of them?” you raised your brows, “well, I, yeah, I guess--”

“We can put something together for you,” Vanessa interrupted your awkward stuttering, “let me just mark them.”

She took the silver pen she kept on a chain around her wrist and scribbled in the corner of the tags to mark them as sold. You were slightly numb at your disbelief. You were a bit reluctant to part with your work but the check would ease your grief.

“The way you use colours,” he said as he faced the paintings again, “I’ve recently had some work done in my house and I hate the sight of naked walls.”

“Thank you,” you said as you stepped a little closer and looked at your delicate strokes.

“Pardon me,” Vanessa rushed away as she beckoned to one of her assistants and prattled orders.

“Vanessa tells me you’re a new artist,” he said.

“New in a sense,” you said, “I guess, I’m officially an artist now.”

“Oh? I’m flattered. Your first buyer?”

“Besides some online fanart, yeah,” you replied, “so, Mr. Kent, what do you do?”

“Clark,” he corrected, “and a little bit of everything.”

An awkward silence took over and was thankfully interrupted by your name. You turned as Marcus rushed over and his shoes slipped on the polished floor. He reached you and kissed your cheek as he caught his breath.

“I’m so sorry, I got caught in traffic on the way over and then my oil light started flashing,” he gasped out.

“Hey, you’re here,” you rubbed his shoulder and straightened his tie without thinking as it hung at an angle.

“So, you sell anything yet?” he asked.

“Yes, actually, um, Mr-- Clark,” you gestured to the man standing patiently to the side, “he just bought all three.”

“Damn,” Marcus said, “guess I can hold onto my savings.”

“Marc,” you nudged his arm with your knuckles, “you know we can’t afford your cheesiness.”

“Sorry, uh,” Marcus laughed at himself, “I’m Marcus.”

He held out his hand and Clark shook it. His eyes strayed to you as his features sharpened just a little.

“You two…?” he ventured.

“Five years,” Marcus announced, “guess we’re going steady.”

“Oh,” Clark nodded placidly, “are you an artist too?”

“God no, I can hardly write my own name legibly,” Marcus kidded, “I’m a developer.”

“Computers,” Clark mused.

“Yeah, computers,” Marcus scoffed, “and you?”

“Own a couple businesses,” Clark shrugged.

“Must be successful if you can hang around here,” Marcus said and you elbowed him in embarrassment.

“I guess,” Clark smoothed his dark purple jacket and checked his watch, “I’ll let you two be. Maybe I’ll find something to go with these fine pieces.”

“Thank you,” you said sweetly, “I’m happy to see my work go to a good home.”

“I hope to see more in future,” he returned kindly.

He turned and carried on to the statue constructed of can tabs and greeted another suited man. You looked at Marcus as he leaned in to read the tags beneath your paintings. He stood and looked at you with wide eyes.

“Holy shit, ten grand?” he hissed.

“Pretty good pay for one night,” you chirped, “glad you could make it.”

“Sorry again, I… I had to redo some code. Adam was in a mood so,” he shook his head and sighed, “let’s not talk about it. Let’s celebrate.” He peeked over at the server with a tray of stemmed flutes, “and you can decide what you’re going to buy me with that check.”

“Hush,” you chided as you took a glass of champagne, “now is not the time to go over bills.”

🎨

At the end of the night, you watched one of the assistants take down your canvas and you helped wrap them in paper and twine. As you finished a loopy knot, you were surprised by the figure beside you. You looked up and set the smallest piece atop the larger ones. Clark smiled as you moved to let him pick them up.

“All yours,” you said, almost mournful to see them go.

“Thanks,” he said as he tucked them easily under his thick arm, “I forgot earlier but do you have a card? Are you open for commissions?”

“You must have a lot of walls,” you looked down and opened your purse, “I have a card and I could try a commission.”

You slid out one of the cards that had lingered in your wallet for more than a year. You handed it to him and he read the flowery font before tucking it away in his jacket.

“I do… have a lot of walls,” he said with a smirk, “I’ll give you a call once these are hung.”

“O-okay,” you kept from wringing your hands and closed your purse, “thank you… again.”

“My pleasure,” assured, “have a good night.”

“Yeah, good night,” you said and watched him go.

You let out a breath and smiled to yourself. You would talk to Vanessa and get your cut of the check before you went. Then you could worry about getting Marcus home. He’d had a little too much champagne and you’d left him in the backroom so you could help with the clean-up.

Vanessa bid goodbye to one of her featured artists as you neared. She turned to you and threw up her hands in delight.

“Wonderful, darling,” she said, “you earned that wall.”

“Thanks,” you grinned bashfully.

“Really. That man has never bought a piece before,” she smirked, “I’ve been dying to get into his wallet for years.”

“I never saw him before…”

“Oh, well, yes, he has not been to many of these either. I often see him at other galleries,” she explained, “I hope you have some more for the next.”

“Um, yeah, I should be able to--”

“I’ll have the check for you tomorrow,” she patted your shoulder as her eye was caught by another, “go get your boyfriend out of my studio.”

You accepted your dismissal and turned on your heel. That was just Vanessa, steely but slightly flighty as well. Besides, you were exhausted and you would likely be dragging Marcus into a cab.

You found him slumped at the paint-splattered table. You shook him awake and smiled dopily as he opened his eyes.

“Babe,” he pushed his arm around you.

“Marcus,” you drawled in disappointment, “let’s get out of here.”

“Huh?” He looked around and hiccupped, “oh, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. You had a long day,” you assured him as you rubbed his back and let him lean on you as he stood, “I’m just happy you showed up after all that nonsense.”

“Of course, babe,” he slurred and you helped him through the door.

You kept your head down as you slowly sneaked out past Vanessa but you didn’t miss her side-eye. It was best to be as covert as possible. You came out through the door and nearly dropped Marcus.

“Jesus, can I get a little help?” you snipped as you looked around for a yellow cab.

“Sorry, baby, sorry,” he got his feet flat but it hardly helped take his weight off of you.

You raised your hand to hail a cab and he slipped down your arm. Your ankle bent as you turned to try to catch him before you dropped him entirely. He was saved from hitting the ground as he was caught by another. You looked over his head as he was pushed up to his feet again. 

Clark kept his arm behind Marcus as you stared at him, “oh my god, thank you.”

“No problem,” he said as he steadied your boyfriend, “you okay?”

“Yeah,” you lied as you lifted your foot and kept the weight off your ankle, “I just need to get a taxi.” You raised your hand again as you tried to see past the large man, “if you don’t mind getting him in--”

“You can ride with me,” he said brusquely as he turned with Marcus and peered back at you, “this way.”

“We can’t--”

“On that ankle,” he said as you began to limp after him, “you won’t get him out on your own.”

“Really, I’m fine--”

“I don’t mind,” he said coolly as he came to a silver sports car and balanced Marcus against him as he opened the door, “I’ll need an address.”

“Uh, oh,” you folded your hands, “thank you. Really, you’ve done too much.”

“It happens. I’ve had these nights,” he put Marcus across the seat and folded his legs up and shut the door, “you can take the front and tell me where I’m going.”

You hesitated and he opened the front door. You neared and hissed as you stumbled on your ankle. You caught yourself on his arm and quickly retracted your hand as you apologized. 

“It’s alright,” he said as you sat in the front seat. He knelt and gently took your ankle. His thumb rubbed the swollen joint, “you really banged yourself up.”

“I’ll be okay,” you assured him, “thanks.”

He let go and stood. He waited for you to turn your legs into the car and gently closed the door. He rounded to the other side and got in as he fished around for his keys. He turned the engine and gripped the wheel with one hand as he took out his phone. He placed it on the magnetic holder and his fingers flicked over the screen.

“Address?” he asked.

You recited it and winced as Siri responded, ‘calculating route’. You shrunk against the luxury leather and glanced at him. He let out a huff and steered into the mostly empty street.

“I’m sorry about all this--”

“No, don’t be,” he glanced in the rearview, “he must be happy for you.”

“Yeah, uh, I think he is,” you said as he followed the map directions, “I am too. I mean, it will go along way… uh, well, you know, things can be tough or--” you shrugged, “I mean, it’s not about the money.”

“Yeah, but it’s nice to be paid,” he said lightly, “and I don’t mind paying for good art.”

You looked out the window as your cheeks burned. You could smell his cologne, subtle but strong. You played with your purse as your nerves brewed in your chest. You watched the sidewalks and the street lights as your surroundings grew more familiar.

He pulled up to your building. It wasn’t the greatest area and the brick façade was faded and cracked. Before you could get out, he was at your door. He offered his hand and helped you out as you leaned on the car. He let you go and opened the back and lifted Marcus out. He hooked your boyfriend’s arm over his shoulder and offered his other arm.

“Come on,” he said.

“Look, you don’t-- there’s an elevator.”

“I’d feel better if I got you inside,” he insisted, “especially in this area.”

You relented and took his arm and limped beside him up the steps. You took out your keys and went ahead of him as he dragged Marcus in. You went to the elevator and hit the button. The doors glided open and you stepped inside. He stood close in the small metal box and Marcus murmured dumbly at his side.

The doors dinged and he let you out first. He followed you down the hall and you unlocked your apartment and waved him inside. He carried Marcus to the couch at your direction and you leaned against the armchair as you bent your leg to check your ankle.

“You should put some ice on that,” Clark said as he neared, “get some sleep yourself.”

“Yeah, I will,” you assured, “thank you, again.”

You felt embarrassed as you eyed his expensive suit and looked around your tiny apartment. It must have been laughable to him. He hardly seem bothered as he retreated to the door.

“I’ll let you then,” he said, “and thank you. I really do like your work.”

The door shut in his stead and you heard his footsteps down the long hall until the door at the end swung open. You glanced at Marcus and shook your head. You weren’t as happy to have had him at the show then.

[ochomachuu]

DO OUR GIRL TODOMATSU PLEASE PLEASDEE

SSKDJFKS SORRY THIS IS SO LATE!!! ILL STILL DO THE REST OF EM. EVENTUALLY.

send me a character: todomatsu!

favorite thing about them: everything

but for real i guess how complex and interesting he is?? like there are so many facets to his personality and so we get so many flavours of totty. hes a sly little bitch, hes a sweetheart, hes a nag, hes a crybaby, hes blunt and callous, hes a goofy mf with a loud ass cackle, hes an angry dude who screams a lot, etc.

like you can probably name a bunch of "contradictory" traits that he can exemplify both of, eg: honest/dishonest, driven/lazy, self-preserving/self-destructive, realist/idealistic, logical/impulsive, sociable/lonely, mean callous bitch/the sweetest baby bro. hes so entertaining to watch and also has a lot of neat tendencies ive only picked up on recently, like apologizing when he doesn't think he did anything wrong, self-destructing for the sake of others, self-destructing for the sake of screwing over others... HE CONTAINS MULTITUDES.

i think when most people think of him, they just think of his cutesy + sly shtick, but by default hes not really like that most of the time. hes just a guy. to me he feels like an actual person, and i find him extremely relatable.

i also love how a lot of his more genuine acts of kindness arent immediately obvious and he doesnt always expect something in return! he is so full of love and care but is also inarguably. bastard. sometimes when he does things from a place of love he’s not kind about it so it doesn’t register as caring, like all the times he nags his bros or tells them an unpleasant truth in a harsh way. my favourite characters are pretty much never the characters that are just nice and sweet, so todomatsu is really really perfect to me because he's a snarky little shit who is crafty and self-serving on the surface, but he also makes me wanna 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 once i start looking deeper into things.

like he actually has a lot of little moments where hes just. a sweetheart? his “evil” moments are very fun and memorable and what made him stand out to me at first but when i rewatch older episodes theres a lot of little things that i hadnt fully appreciated before.

also he is just a funny guy. i love how he is “the smart, manipulative one”, but he has exactly one plan at all times and it doesnt even work out most of the time. he loses his cool extremely easily and proceeds to do impulsive shit, either bc hes panicking or bc he is fucking FUMING.

but when his plans do seem to work out its a treat to watch and i feel very proud. like good for you, you crafty little bastard.

i also respect how practical he is and how he makes an effort to improve himself and climb the social ladder! he hasnt had much success and is still undoubtedly a loser despite his efforts but i respect how he puts himself out there to face rejection. i like to think that his advice about the mixer to oso in s2e7 came from a place of personal experience, like there was a time where he was really really excited and then completely failed, then added that situation to his mental checklist, which is why he told oso what he did. he tried to temper his expectations because of that but he ended up getting hyped up again anyways, and fell flat once again.

anyways he is cute and funny and i just think he’s neat.

least favorite thing about them:

IDK I FEEL LIKE A LOT OF HIS POSES IN GROUP OFFICIAL ART ARE A BIT BORING? like theres a lot where he's just smiling and taking a selfie. i dont think this is actually technically the majority of official art though but its enough to be a Thing.

like hes still cute but it also could be that his vibe from the actual show isn’t reflected too well? idk

(his shimamatsu art is really good to me though, idk whats different about it but a lot of it is really cute and i like it.)

c:

favorite line scene: 

brOTP: THE 🅱enis.

i find it so cute how totty clearly looks up to oso, and finds him reliable in a weird, shitty sort of way. also cyber!!! i feel like he relies on both choro and oso a lot as big bros but in sort of opposite directions, if that makes sense.

beni also has such a fun and varied dynamic. one second totty will be nagging oso like an annoying parent and the next they'll both be goofing off over something INCREDIBLY stupid. also they are mischievous little assholes and very cute and fun to watch.

also i want more totoko and todomatsu interaction i want to see them be friends

random headcanon: (thanks @transtottimi​ for this one hehe) i love the idea that he buys cute drinks and desserts and stuff for the aesthetic but he actually likes black coffee bc he’s an old man on the inside

unpopular opinion: he has a shit sense of self-esteem, he doesn't love himself much, he's just coping.

also dont know that this is an unpopular opinion or just not mentioned a lot, but totty wants to be helpful, just not if it involves physical labour or anything (the pampered little princess). his whole deal is that he wants to succeed first so he can be the one to bring his brothers up with him! hes pretty often one to volunteer ideas and advice to the other five, even if nearly all of his plans fail and his advice is sometimes unwanted, to say the least. (barrage of screenshots incoming:)

and here is him pissing off the others while he thinks he’s being helpful:

favorite picture of them:

ITS HARD TO PICK OF FAVOURITE SO ILL JUST PUT A BUNCH:

[call-me-aesthetic]

If Twisted Wonderland was an American Public School

WARNING: There are some slight sensitive topics that are featured in here! Reader discretion is advised!

Part 2 can be found here

Heartslabyul

Riddle Rosehearts:

- That one preppy girl who takes all honors and AP classes 😑

- Wants everyone to know that he’s becoming a doctor one day for his strict parents or he’ll dishonor the family

- Reminds the teacher about homework, knowing well that he’ll get slander for it

- Complains about how he got a 90 on his test or a B on his report card, a try hard much?

- Wears a cardigan with thicc but cute glasses since he’s one of those people with can’t see shit on the board so he has to move to the front of the class

Ace Trappola:

- The SoundCloud rapper, that’s it

- “Wanna listen to my mixtape? It’s pretty fire, my guy.” 😩🔥

- You will not miss him BLASTING out some song on his Bluetooth speaker, that shit be echoing through the hallways

- Tells you to stop what you’re doing only for him to either sing horribly or do a backflip, thinking that he’s so cool

- Wears a Supreme jacket with AirPods and waves on his head

Deuce Spade:

- Assuming that he’s still a delinquent, he’s that kid with the most fucked up school record

- Not much of a bully but will still talk shit to your face without caring, might even throw stuff at you during a lesson and you would be the one getting in trouble instead of him 🗿

- If he ever gets mad, it would be overdramatic like kicking the desks, punching the lockers, or walking out of the classroom unannounced and everyone would look at each other wondering wtf happened

- Covers the entire desks with drawings of skulls and those “s” if you know what I mean

- Wears Champion hoodies, wants you to know that he’s broke and rich at the same time

Trey Clover:

- The guy that’s not really popular but everyone knows him since he’s in all their classes

- Most people might have a crush on him because he’s REALLY nice 😳👉👈

- Gives off “older brother” vibes based on the way he looks and acts, like offering you a ride home if you beg ask nicely

- Secretly bakes creme brulee but doesn’t want to mess with the flow so he sticks to the status quo

- Wears the school’s hoodie just because he thinks it looks good on him, and the fact that he doesn’t know what else to wear

Cater Diamond:

- Hot Cheetos girl 🥵

- Has a whole buffet of food in his backpack and will not hesitate to eat them during a lesson, no sharing either sorry

- Excuses himself to the bathroom or full on skips class just to film a Tiktok

- Has about 100 followers on Instagram Magicam and brags about how he’s famous

- Wears a Thrasher hoodie with large hoop earrings and his hair in a bun

Savanaclaw

Leona Kingscholar:

- The kid who flunked their freshman year that also sort of vibes with new classmates

- Always gets mistaken as a teacher by people since he looks and sounds old

- Knows the lessons but still fails them anyways, didn’t really give a damn either 🙄

- Captain of every sports club you can think of, never actually plays but has a lot of knowledge on them

- Wears the school’s letterman from years ago since it used to be his brother’s and that he’s too lazy to buy a new one

Ruggie Bucchi:

- That one kid who NEVER has money for the book fair or any other school event

- Always has to ask his classmates for some cash

- If he somehow does, then he’s one of those kids who buys Diary of the Wimpy Kid or the World Record books

- If he’s feeling cheap, he’ll buy the “cool stuff” like the chocolate scented calculator or fruit snacks 😭

- Wears oversized hoodies and basketball shorts that are clearly hand-me-downs

Jack Howl:

- That one athletic kid who’s both scary good and competitive when it comes to school games like football or soccer

- Literally the best player on his team and without him, they’re trash as hell 💀

- Tries his absolute best to support his teammates without yelling at them for how dumb they are

- “KICK THE FUCKING BALL! DO YOUR LEGS EVEN WORK?!”

- Wears the school’s jersey just to show off his “school spirit”

Octavinelle

Azul Ashengrotto:

- The kid who sell snacks for “charity” but everyone knows he’s keeping the money to himself

- If you don’t have cash or try to negotiate with him, the only thing he’ll do is raise the price up

- “What do you mean you don’t have ten bucks? I can see it in your pocket.”

- Just bring nothing with you, he’ll doing anything to steal your stuff 🤭

- Wears a collar shirt with a tie and khakis that have pockets to keep his glasses and money in

Jade Leech:

- The kid who puts on a goody two shoes facade but is actually a stoner

- Only does “safe” drugs like vape but occasionally smokes weed, mostly in the bathroom or behind the school 🌬

- Can play it off and hide the scent when he’s high, teachers never suspect anything from him

- No one really cares to stop him unless he gets caught or something idk

- Wears clothing that either makes him look like a businessman or a junky, there’s nothing in between

Floyd Leech:

- The kid that’s plays basketball or volleyball just because he’s hella tall, and is actually good at the sports but doesn’t put much effort into them

- Always stays behind after gym, even though the teacher tries to make him leave for his next class 😬

- “I swear after this one shot, I’ll go to class.” *He never made that shot*

- Will jump you no matter who or where you are, and will get angry if you step on his new shoes

- Wears the jersey of any famous team with the latest pair of Jordan sneakers

Scarabia

Kalim Al Asim:

- VSCO girl at best, don’t lie to me now 🤡

- The only words he knows are “And I oop– sksksk.” and “Save the turtles.”

- Walks during a track meet while everyone else is running and sweating hard, the teacher doesn’t care either

- Doesn’t really do anything in gym but talks to his classmates and stands near the water fountain to refill his Hydro flask

- Wears tie dye shirts with cute scrunchies

Jamil Viper:

- That one quiet kid who everybody thinks is a serial killer but he’s actually not, I swear

- He just wants school to be over and spend the rest of his summer relaxing 😔

- Although he shouldn’t abuse his “power,” he‘ll move his hands in his pockets or backpack to make it look like he’s about to pull a weapon out.

- “Chill, I’m just grabbing a pencil.” *Everyone in the class started crying*

- Wears dark colored hoodies that intimidates people but are actually comfy

Pomefiore

Vil Schoenheit:

- The baddie popular girl 😌💅✨

- Arrives to school late with a Starbucks in hand from his local Target

- Fixes himself every 5 seconds like reapplying his lipgloss or spraying Bath and Body Works cherry blossom perfume

- Uses acrylic nails and long hair extensions as weapons during a cat fight

- Wears a crop top with ripped jeans and those clout sunglasses

Rook Hunt:

- That creepy guy in the hallways who tries to get your attention, even if you don’t know him

- Scares people when he says, “Ayo, where my hug at?” 🥶💯

- Uses at least 10 cans of Axe body spray a week after gym class, which stinks up the locker rooms

- Waves at you if he passes your class, even walking into the room just to say hi

- Wears literally anything but always include a hat

Epel Felmier:

- The artist girl who just wants to be alone 🧑‍🎨

- Purposely draws in front of you but pretends like you’re not looking

- If you complement him, he’ll just brush it off and proceeds to diss himself

- “Thanks but I’m not THAT good at drawing, teehee.” *Insert Radio Rebel face*

- Wears a hoodie or a cardigan with big pockets to put his art supplies in

Ignihyde

Idia Shroud:

- I don’t even need to tell you who he is, y’all already know ahaha 🥴

- Sneaks a whole PlayStation in his backpack so he can play with it during lunch

- Is on his phone 24/7 even in class to the point where teachers don’t care anymore

- Tries to get people into anime but only to little success

- Wears a shirt of any anime character or that damn ahegao hoodie, girl bye

Ortho Shroud:

- The nerdy kid who’s known for destroying others at many games

- Plays classics like D&D, Yugioh, Pokémon, the whole shabang

- Daily Beyblade battles during recess with everyone surrounding him, the menacing aura radiates off of him

- Will steal your things if you lose to him but gives it back a week later cuz he’s sweet 🥰

- Wears light up Sketchers shoes and those Minecraft shirts you find at Old Navy

Diasomnia

Malleus Draconia:

- The theatre kid who also goes to band practice, change my mind 👁👄👁

- Takes his role seriously when it comes to school plays and concerts, even if he gets casted as a damn tree or doesn’t go solo

- Remembers the songs and their lyrics to any musical you name, a really good singer at that too

- Plays almost every instrument, you definitely know this since you can hear him down the hallways during a test

- Wears a white button up shirt, black pants with fancy dress shoes, and top it all off with a fricking Rolex watch

Lilia Vanrouge:

- The weird guy who pranks people and vandalizes school property in every way possible

- If you ever get a textbook with a message that tells you to go to a certain page only for you to found a picture of a dick, yeah that was him 😒

- When using a Chromebook, he’ll leave a tab open on YouTube so when the next person uses it, pray that your ears will still work by tomorrow

- During lunch, he is a literal DEMON that mixes milk with chicken nuggets together and having the audacity to eat it too

- Wears an oversized raincoat or a windbreaker but idk wtf kind of things he has hiding underneath

Silver:

- That guy in class who consumes Monster energy drinks and falls asleep 99% of the time but somehow manages to pass the class 🤷

- Whenever he’s awake, he’ll talk to the teachers since he’s basically friends with them for some reason

- Writes his name out of boredom on any desk you sit on but in different places, sometimes around the corners or the sides

- Has a sixth sense because he’ll wake up if you try to draw on his face and if you did get something on him, it’s on sight

- Wears those colorful hoodies that zips all the way up to cover his face with a matching backpack, it’s pretty cool ngl

Sebek Zigvolt:

- That kid who literally knows everything about historical wars and will show it off during class

- Also has knowledge on weaponry, which has people questioning him but he’s just very dedicated on serving his country and people

- Knows how to fight and defend himself from a bitch since he spent his summer at a military boot camp, put respect on my man’s name 😤

- Honestly a great partner for a group project, actually does the given work but not the whole thing for you

- Wears anything that has camo pattern and chunky combat boots

I only made this because me and my friends were talking about our school memories so yeah. This is based from my experience so they might not be exactly accurate. Might even be a part two if you want.

[idy-ll-ique]

Just Peachy.

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x F!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: mentions of injuries and blood, overall very fluffy and cute

Requested: nope

Summary: in which Y/N gets hurt and Ransom is the perfect fiancé.

Author's Note: hiya peeps! ok im gonna say it,,, im a hoe for soft!ransom idc idc. enjoy!

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"If anything happens while I'm at work, if you get hurt, don't hesitate to call me, alright? I'll be home in 15 minutes. Just call." Wise words by Ransom Drysdale, her fiancé.

Was she going to do that? Nope! Y/N grumbled from her position on the ground; she was walking down the stairs when she had tripped and fallen, ending up in a heap on the floor with one ankle definitely broken and a cut on her temple. Slowly, as the pain got too much to bear, she started crawling to the best of her abilities towards the bathroom to get the first aid kit.

As she neared the bathroom her hopes went up, until she saw the cupboard above the sink on top of which the first aid kit was kept. "Who fucking keeps it so high up?" she cursed under her breath as she grabbed the sink, slowly standing up, praying the sink wouldn't break under her as she applied her full body weight on the poor thing. She was successful.

Now putting her entire weight on her good foot, she reached up and, severely underestimating the weight of the kit, yanked it up, causing the heavy box to come crashing down on her. "Damn it, fucking son of a—" she cursed loudly as the box knocked her off her already weak feet. She fell on her back with a grunt and the heavy box landed on her chest, forcing her to exhale a breath. "Fuck."

Y/N forgot to hear a painful crunch.

She started lifting her hands to push the kit away when a sharp pain shot through her left wrist, causing her to wince. "Oh, great, another broken limb? Just what I needed. Great. Fucking peachy," she muttered and shoved the box away with her right hand, moving to sit up. She tried to crawl out of the bathroom but this time, with only one hand to support her, the task was perilous.

Ransom tapped his fingers on his desk at work in the tune of his favorite song, frowning at the blank open document in front of him. He was working on his second book, but today, inspiration was nowhere to be found. No ideas were coming to his head on how to proceed with the next chapter. I wonder what Y/N is doing, he thought and smiled softly at the thought of his fiancée.

Ransom and Y/N met at a party thrown by a mutual friend. He was being his usual, bitter self in the gardens outside the lavish mansion (yes, a mansion) when Y/N had approached him first. "Hi there, I'm Y/N. I noticed you were being too quiet and you slipped out, and wondered if you wanted to talk to someone?"

He wanted to push her away for talking to him like that, especially since he left the house for a reason, but instead he just smiled at her. A genuine smile. "I'd like that a lot." And so, they talked. Ransom was proud to announce that he had first fallen for her nature, her personality and her demeanor instead of her looks, which was what made their relationship special.

At least for Ransom, given the type of man he used to be.

Y/N was extremely gorgeous in his eyes. That was simply an added bonus. By the end of the party, both of them had walked into the house again and Ransom had put on quite a show about asking her out to dinner, which she readily agreed to. She knew what kind of a man he was; spoiled, full of himself and had a big attitude problem but that one talk with him changed her perception of Ransom Drysdale.

He was truly nice to the people he cared about, one of them being her. They talked for a short while and he was nothing short of polite, sweet and funny at times. He flirted endlessly since that was part of his personality but she didn't mind, she liked it, even. Ever since that day, they were inseparable and now, 4 years later, engaged.

"Fuck shit, fuck shit, fuck shit…" Y/N chanted as she slowly crawled to the living room, the pain in her body increasing by the minute. Finally putting her pride aside, she grabbed her phone off the couch and called Ransom, falling to the floor with deep breaths. Ransom's eyes snapped away from his laptop and landed on his phone when it started ringing.

Grinning, he picked up the call when Y/N's smiling face came into view. The moment she spoke, though, his grin dropped. "Hugh…" Y/N choked out, eyes filling with tears when the pain finally caught up to her. "Y/N? Bubba, what's wrong?" he asked worriedly, immediately leaping to his feet. He shut the laptop, grabbed his coat and stormed out of his office, towards his car. Work be damned.

"It's— it's nothing. I'm sorry for calling, I know you're busy—" He nearly scoffed. "Babe, listen to me. You're more important. I'm coming home, I just left the office. Speak to me, bub, tell me," he insisted as he drove like a madman towards his house. "Just got hurt a little bit," Y/N mumbled and Ransom's heart broke. "Darling, I'll take care of it when I get home."

Thankfully, 15 minutes later, he reached home. Ransom hurriedly parked his car and threw open the front door, freezing when he saw his fiancée lying near the couch on the floor, the phone still in her hand as her eyes snapped away from the ceiling towards him. "Ransom," she stuttered and he walked towards her, kneeling next to her. His thumb swiped the blood on her temple.

God, did he want to punch her on her stupid, beautiful face for telling him she was just a little hurt. "Bub, what's this?" He picked her up and placed her on the couch, moving to take her hand but it fell limp… in a weird angle. His eyes widened. "Is your wrist broken?" he whispered and Y/N nodded, turning away from him. "And you had the fucking audacity to tell me it was nothing?!" he screamed.

She kept silent as he checked the rest of her body, finding out that her ankle was broken as well, the skin around it swollen black and blue. "You're a fucking dumbass, you know that?" he muttered as he called a doctor, sitting on the floor next to the couch. "I didn't want to disturb you." She was wheezing and he turned to her, only to see her clutching at her chest with a pained expression on her face.

"Baby?"

"Hurts." He sat up and ripped the t-shirt off her, eyes darkening when they landed on the bruise forming on her chest and between the valley of her breasts. "What the fuck happened when I was gone?" he hissed as he covered her up again. "I… I fell down the stairs first and broke my ankle," she began, fidgeting. "Well you should've called me then!" he insisted, exasperated.

"I didn't want to be a burden," she admitted in a small voice and Ransom's resolve broke. He teared up a bit and pressed his lips to hers, shaking his head. "You're not a burden, Y/N. I told you, if you're hurt at home, call me. I meant it. Even if it's a paper cut, call. Even if it's a skinned knee, call. I'm always here for you, and I always will be here." Y/N sniffled under him.

"Ransom…" He gently sat her up and sat next to her, only to pull her on his lap as he held her close. "Don't you dare think you're a burden ever again. I signed up for this. A burden is something you're not willing to carry. This? I'm willing to carry this to the end of the world," he whispered, squeezing her body as tightly as he could without crushing her. "I love you, Ran."

I love you, too.

"I know, sweetcheeks." And he grinned when her head shot up and she promptly slapped him on the cheek. "You're so full of yourself, Drysdale," she huffed. "You still love me," he hummed as she snuggled into his arms. "Fortunately for you, unfortunately for me, yeah, yes I do," she sighed.

Soon, the doctor arrived, patched her up and said the worst thing she had ever heard in her life.

"Bedrest for 2 weeks till the ankle heals."

And seeing Ransom's shit-eating grin had caused her to glare so viciously at him that even he had cowered. "Babe, doctor's orders, can't help it." After the doctor left, they were now laying side by side on their bed, staring at each other. "I can't just sit here with nothing to do!" she whined, snuggling closer to him. He put an arm around her, sighing.

"Well, face the reality, kitten. You're staying here and that's an order."

"Funny you think you can boss me around, sweetheart."

"I know I can't but this time, I will. I'll strap you down to the bed, mark my words," Ransom said with a roll of his eyes. "Kinky," Y/N snickered and Ransom kissed her nose with a smirk. "You are not getting up, Mrs Drysdale," he whispered and she pouted, jutting her lower lip out as far as she could along with giving him puppy eyes. "Please, Ran?" Ransom laughed.

"No." She groaned loudly. "Ugh, fine! I'll just get up when you go to work," she spoke smugly and Ransom turned to her, eyes wide. "Oh no you don't." He leaped up from the bed, making her whine. "Where are you going?! I need cuddles, Ran, I'm hurt!" she insisted and he got back into bed, taking out his phone. "I'm making calls to work. I'm gonna work from home now."

"You don't have to do that!" she insisted vehemently but Ransom refused to hear it. "I have to! To make sure your cute, dumb little ass stays in bed like the doctor said," he huffed. After one phone call, he sighed in relief and relaxed against the bed. "Pays to be a Thrombey, ya know," he chuckled, ruffling Y/N's hair as she snuggled into his side.

She was a mess. Her left hand was in cast, and so was her right ankle. After the doctor left she had taken off her t-shirt, leaving her in her sports bra, the wound on her chest a deep purple with flecks of red. There was also a bandaid on her temple for the small cut. "I figured." It was quiet for some time. "You never finished the story, babe. How did you get so hurt?"

"Well, first the stairs incident, I told you. After that, I was going to the bathroom to get the first aid kit but it was too heavy. I didn't know that so when I lifted it, it fell on me. I broke my wrist from hitting it on the floor too hard and the first aid kit fell on my chest," she huffed, "The pain was too much so I called you." Ransom frowned. "You should've called earlier."

"I know. Sorry."

"It's okay, baby, I'm here now," Ransom smiled, giving her a loving kiss on the top of her head. "I'm getting tired," she yawned as the adrenaline started wearing off. "Sleep." Ransom adjusted himself so he was now half-lying on the bed, back resting against the headrest as he gathered Y/N in his arms. She fell asleep a few minutes later.

---

"Ran…"

Y/N touched his side of the bed, only to be met with cold sheets instead of his warm body. She blinked the sleep away and sat up, rubbing her eyes and letting out a yawn. Running a hand through her messy hair, she stood up and limped towards the stairs. 2 weeks had passed and as the doctor said, her bedrest was over.

Her ankle had healed but not fully, while the wrist was still in a cast. The wound on her chest was also feeling loads better. She walked down the stairs and entered the kitchen area only to see Ransom cooking breakfast. "Ran," she whined and he turned around. "Y/N! Get your ass in bed, why are you here?"

"It got lonely." She wrapped her arms around him from behind, pressing a soft kiss to his bare back. "Alright, fine." He spun around and grabbed her waist, lifting her and placing her on the kitchen counter. "Sit here." Y/N smiled lazily as she placed her head on his shoulder, watching him cook. He was making eggs. Omelettes.

"How did you sleep?" he questioned when the silence stretched on. "I slept well. The ankle doesn't hurt as much, nor the wound on my chest. But the wrist…" She sighed and Ransom looked at her with a sad smile, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. "It'll get better, I promise. I'm not going to stop taking care of you."

"I'd like that very much," she replied shyly and he grinned. It was true, Ransom had truly taken care of her well. Breakfast, lunch and dinner in bed everyday for 2 weeks, he worked in their room and they had cuddled more in the two weeks than they had in their entire relationship. Y/N was super happy with their arrangement.

Of course, sometimes Ransom would be too busy, leaving her alone in the room while he worked downstairs or had a meeting with someone. But then he'd make it up to her by offering more snuggles and kisses. "My best girl," he murmured, placing the omelette he was making on a plate. He then carried the plate to the dining room, leaving her on the kitchen counter.

He returned just as fast, gathering her in his arms and pressing a kiss to her temple as he carried her to the dining table as well. "You're strong," she teased and he huffed. "I better be, or all that working out will be for nothing." She laughed and he placed her down on a chair. "Eat well, I'll be back." With another kiss dropped to her head, he went back to the kitchen area.

Y/N wondered how she became so lucky to have him as her fiancé. Yeah, sure, Ransom wasn't a very nice person in general but to her, he was the best. The man who once called his aunt unsavory things punched someone in the face when they had the audacity to call her the same things. "You better watch your fucking mouth or I'm gonna break all your teeth."

It hadn't affected her much anyway but seeing Ransom's reaction had sent a pleasant tingle down her spine. He was ready to do anything for her. And she had to admit, lately, he was being very soft. She had noticed the changes in him around a year ago; he'd become… domestic, almost. It was fun to see him like that.

His family, well, they were less than pleased when Ransom had first introduced her to them. They thought she wasn't good enough for him and had even tried to break them down. But that had only made them stronger. Ransom was in love with her and nothing his family said was going to change that. "Y/N?"

She snapped out of her thoughts and blinked at Ransom. "Yeah?" He laughed and sat in front of her with his own plate of food. "You were lost in thoughts; the food's getting cold, honey." She cursed softly and laughed along, finally finishing her food.

How had she gotten so lucky?

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A/N: Thanks for reading! Show some love, likes and reblogs will be appreciated <3

[ground-zero-idiocies]

imagine if you would, super soldier sole survivor. bullet proof shield that bounces around like a frisbee, taking the heads off 4 raiders at once.

oh hell yes.

Fallout 4 Companions React: Nora is (basically) Captain America

Nora and friends are trapped. Pinned down against a wall during a routine sweep of Monsignor Square. Raiders go there often, and ridding the Commonwealth of the raider scourge is a top priority for the savior of the wastes.

This time, though, things aren’t going so well. The remnants of the forged gang have somehow gotten ahold of full suits of power armor (don’t question it) and have fought Nora and friends into a corner. This looks like this is the end, until…

Almost like an inner awakening, a flame shines bright in Nora’s eyes. The flame of protective anger. Nora gazes at the pip-boy on her arm, pressing a few buttons in rapid succession. In her left hand appears a metal disc - a shield, tough enough to withstand bullets but light enough to be thrown like a frisbee.

In the blink of an eye, Nora begins charging. She runs straight at the lead raider, jumping up and kicking him straight in the chest plate. Using the momentum, she spins upwards, jumping onto the ceiling and pushing off the decaying wood. She lands on the ground, jumping off the wall and, with one perfect shield throw, decapitates four of the five raiders, their helmeted heads toppling to the floor with loud clanks.

As the last Raider starts to reload, she slams the shield into his back, forcing him into the ground. She turns him over, and pulls off the helmet.

“Run. Go and tell your little raider friends that my family is not to be fucked with.”

The last raider scampers away quickly, trying to grab his power armor helmet but having it crushed by Nora at the last second. He crawls out, sprinting away as soon as he gets outside. Nora throws the shield one more time, knocking the fusion core out of the raider’s power armor as he flees.

And just like that, it’s over. The fire dies down and Nora tries to proceed as if nothing happened. However, her friends have a little something to say…

Cait: “Am I high right now, or did you just pull an indestructible shield from a God-damn pocket dimension and crush those raiders like a Grognak comic? Good grief lass, you gotta tell us you can do this shit. Really coulda helped me get outta some jams!”

Codsworth: “Well mum, I’m glad to see that the dumbbell set Sir got you is finally paying off! Hahaha! Really though, thank you for saving me. Those raiders really ought to learn some manners, charging at us like that!”

Curie: “Madam, you never cease to amaze me! You know ever skill that could ever be needed in the wasteland and you can do them all perfectly. Truly incredible, what a human you are!”

Deacon: “Oh yeah, I can totally do that too. I also just choose to keep my anime protagonist superpowers a secret instead of using them all the time at every possible convenience.”

Danse: “Knight, I can say that I’ve never seen anything like that in my long tour of duty with the Brotherhood. Could this be related to your Institute visits? Have you been replaced by a synth? Abnormal feats of strength like that are usually only found with families protecting each oth…Knight, I…I don’t know what to say…”

Gage: “No wonder you beat Colter with a fucking squirt gun, you just beat 5 raiders in fucking POWER ARMOR with a metal pancake…damn, I really don’t know what to say…”

Hancock: “I just wrote that I need new Jet, so Im definitely not high or hallucinating - hell, even testosterone boy saw it. Look lady, I don’t know what the fuck your just did, but that is some mysterious stranger type o’ shit right there. Just…wow.”

Jack Cabot: “Oh no, I’m afraid my father’s artifact may have made an impact on you…this is a grave misfortune…”(He’s going to be like this for several hours. don’t try to talk to him).

Longfellow: “Y’know what? I’ve elected to pretend that that didn’t happen. Thank you Nora, but please don’t do that again. I swear, this old asshole’s gonna have a heart attack if you pull that superhero shit again.”

MacCready: “Ho…ly…fu…crap…What the actual crap! You could do that the whole time???? Man, Duncan’s gonna love it when I tell him about this! His dad’s hanging out with a Wasteland Captain Cosmos?? Incredible!”

Nick Valentine: “So, you picked up some of this ol’ fart’s little tricks, huh? Really though, that was some impressive fighting. Really sent lil’ curly hair for a spin, didn’t ya? Just don’t tell McDounough about all this, or he’ll think you’re some Institute spy with a magic kill raider subroutine. Man, why couldn’t I get one of those?”

Piper: “Oh. My. God. Blue! That was crazy! Straight up insane! Like those comics Nat likes to read…uh…Captain Boston! Just like that! Man, Diamond City is gonna flip when they hear about this! Breaking: Local Vault Popsicle turns out to be awesome Super-soldier!!”

Preston: (stunned silence)

Strong: “Little lady hit raider on head with big metal circle. Little raider man run like rad roach!! Strong like see little raider man crush with metal circle!! HAHAHA!”

X6-88: “Ma’am, forgive me for this, but I wasn’t made aware that next-gen Courser training involved the imitation of pre-war superheroes and myths. I ought to check my handbook.”