#and all the characters are based on file types

[kajoodles]

blues clues but with computers. trust me on this

[amjustagirl]

title: to rebuild a home pairing: kuroo x f! reader genre: angst / fluff, post timeskip! wc: 6.8k m.list

a/n: companion piece to the original love knows not its depth, from kuroo's perspective.

Kuroo Tetsuro is doing alright. 

He’s deftly juggling the roles life has handed him. His tenth wedding anniversary is coming up. He’s gotten a nice pair of earrings and a reservation at Tokyo’s hottest omakase for you to celebrate. The girls are doing nicely at school - Aiko’s grades are excellent, and Fumiko’s not gotten into any schoolyard fights unlike Bokuto’s trio of sons. His bosses seem happy with him too, paving the way for him to climb the corporate ladder rung by rung. He’s earned each promotion by burning days in the office, nights in the izakayas schmoozing with his bosses, but it’s worth it, even if it admittedly comes at the expense of being with you and the girls. 

It’s a sacrifice he has to make so he can provide you with the fairytale life he’s always promised you. Not that you’ve ever complained about the trade-off.  

“She’s the best wife and mom I could’ve asked for”, he tells Kenma, when the former setter asks about you. “I don’t know how she does it.” 

Kenma frowns. “You make her sound like a video game character.” 

“That’s cos she’s amazing -”

“Kinda sucks that she pretty much has to juggle a full time job and the kids on her own most of the time.”

“She manages perfectly well”, Kuroo enthuses, oblivious to the barb in his friend’s words. “By the time I get home, the girls are in bed, the house is clean, and there’s even a lunch box packed for me each day. She’s a rockstar at work too - should be up for a promotion next financial year.” 

“Huh”, Kenma sniffs. “I wonder when she gets a break.” 

Kuroo’s too distracted by the round of beers that’s delivered to his table to think deeply about his best friend’s apprehension. When he stumbles through the front door that night, he finds you crouched over the coffee table, frantically typing at your laptop. As expected, the girls are in bed, there’s nothing out of place. 

“All good?” he asks you in passing, his mind already filing the tasks on his plate for tomorrow - organising a publicity event jointly held by the JVA and Bouncing Ball Corporation to introduce new national team members, reviewing the proposed budget for this year’s international competitions, popping by the under-19 team to see if there are indeed any promising candidates - he’s already one foot in the bedroom, ready to call it a night. 

He doesn’t notice the violets blooming under your eyes. 

“Mm.” You don’t look up. “Have a good night.”  

Kruoo Tetsuro thinks he’s doing alright. 

Bokuto Kotaro, for some reason, doesn’t think so. “Mitsuki said you’re lucky you’re not married to her cos she’ll skin you alive”, he informs him, as if Kuroo shares his love for women capable of chomping his head off in one bite.

Maybe the Bokutos operate on a different metric - because yes, they’re the model of egalitarianism with Mitsuki the high powered general counsel for Kenma’s Bouncing Ball Corporation (based on his referral, he likes to add, cos’ it’s funny to watch Mitsuki growl) and Kotaro the part time coach, full time stay at home dad to his wolfpack of sons, but that doesn’t mean his marriage is on the rocks. 

As a child, he was the unwitting witness to his parents’ fights, which culminated in his mother walking out of the door, his father crying over a thick stack of divorce papers. His grandparents took him in, gave him stability and love and comfort but he swore to himself he’s never going to put his daughters through that. 

Sure, it’s been a while since you’ve had a night to yourself. The last time he remembers you taking time away from the girls was to go out for dinner with him to celebrate his latest promotion - his conscience stings a little that he can’t remember the last time you’ve taken a break from everything you’ve been doing for him and the girls, but he’ll make it up to you once he has time. You always understand. 

Still, just to be sure, he checks in on you again. 

“You alright?”, he reaches for your hand, when he climbs into bed that night. 

You’re lying in bed. He should find it odd that you’re still awake at this time of the night, staring up at the ceiling as if there’s something to be found there, but he falls asleep in the slow seconds, doesn't hear your response. When he wakes, you’ve already taken the girls to school. He gets himself ready for work, loops his tie around his neck, grabs his briefcase and the bento you’ve so lovingly packed for him, and hops on the train. He runs through his routine like clockwork, but there’s a niggling feeling that he’s missed something important, possibly something to do with you. 

Did you say something to him last night? 

It doesn’t matter. He makes a mental note to purchase a spa day for you - but that’s promptly forgotten when he’s greeted by a flood of emails and an invitation from his boss to go out for drinks that night. 

Kuroo still thinks he’s doing alright. 

“You’re lucky”, his boss toasts him. “Your wife doesn’t complain like mine when I go out drinking, even though I tell her I need to do it for work.” 

“She’s an angel”, Kuroo replies, quietly bursting with pride. “Never complains.” 

“Lucky man”, his boss says. “My wife is such a nag.” 

He misses the last train home that night, drops you a text not to wait up and stumbles around Shibuya trying to find a cab. It must be a busy night because by the time he manages to flag down one, it’s three a.m. and his head is pounding from the excess of alcohol and lack of solid food and water. He fumbles with his keys, almost falls through his front door when the lock gives way. “Tadaima”, he says out of habit, too-loudly, before his stomach lurches and he has to make a mad dash for the kitchen sink. 

“Tetsuro?” 

He wants to respond, but he’s too busy emptying out the contents of his stomach. He shouldn’t have woken you up. He shouldn’t greet you with a mess for you to clean up. He shouldn’t lean so heavily on you that you stagger beneath his weight. 

He shouldn’t do all of that yet he does so anyway. You tuck him, a grown man, into bed.

Tomorrow, he’ll apologise. Tomorrow, he’ll make it up to you. 

Tomorrow comes. He wakes up. 

You’re gone. 

Kuroo Tetsuro is not alright.

He’s ashamed to admit that he doesn’t even notice you’ve taken off until it’s way past lunch when your mother drops him a text to ask if he’s picking up the girls or if he intends to leave them with her overnight. 

“What d’you mean?” he texts her, confused.  

His heart stops when your mother responds to say you dropped off the girls at her place without much of an explanation, an overnight bag slung over your shoulder. You don’t pick up your phones, his calls going straight to voicemail. For the first time in forever, he sheepishly asks his boss for urgent leave from work so he can rush home to figure out what’s going on. 

You always take your laptop with you, but it’s sitting at home. He knows it’s an invasion of privacy, but he types in your password (his birthday), and your web browser reveals a booking for a ryokan in Hakone, where the both of you honeymooned almost a decade ago. It’s an hour away by train, far too much time for him to sit and stew in his thoughts. He wonders if you’ve become sick of your life with him, whether you’ve found someone new, and by the time he’s reached the ryokan and charmed the receptionist to let him into your room, he’s teetering on the edge of giving into his frustration, entertaining thoughts about yelling at you for being so goddamned irresponsible, cos how could you just walk out on him and the girls -

Until you walk in, thankfully alone. 

It strikes him that it’s the most refreshed he’s seen you look in a very, very long time. Your cheeks are glowing, your eyes sparkle, and there’s a spring in your step that he hasn’t seen since you’ve had the girls. 

Still, he can’t help but remain a little peeved. “I’ve been calling you all afternoon”, he informs you. “I was worried.” 

He immediately regrets his words as he watches the light die in your eyes. 

“Were you?”, you ask, as if you were addressing a stranger. “Really?” 

“Of course”, he frowns, slowly getting up to approach you, concerned when you start to sway. “You’re my wife and the mother of our girls, of course I care.” 

Laughter spills from your lips, an undercurrent of bitterness and contempt that’s threatening to drag you under before his very eyes. “If you really cared, you’d have noticed that your wife is broken”, you tell him between gasps, your shoulders caving in. “I tried fixing myself with a break, but you can’t even give me that.”  

He’s starting to realise that things aren’t alright at all. You flinch when he takes a step towards you, an action which stabs him clean through his heart because he’s your husband, your Tetsuro, your person. Tea, then, a neutral offering that manages to calm you down enough to take a seat, even if you’re still shaking, falling to pieces while laughing, laughing -

“Tell me what’s wrong”, he begs. “Tell me what I can do to fix you.” 

You take a sip of tea. It’s hot enough to burn you, but you don’t seem to notice. 

“I can’t do this anymore, Tetsuro.” 

“Don’t say that”, he snaps, his inner child recoiling because he can’t bear to have his girls go through what he went through, wondering if it was his fault, his very existence that caused his parents to split up. “The girls and I need you -” 

You don’t seem to hear him. 

“Princess”, he falls back on his pet name for you, rusty from lack of use. “Come back to me.” 

You’re unmoved, your eyes unseeing, deaf to his pleas. Sip after sip, you gulp down scalding tea, each action jerky, mechanical. Frozen, in an impenetrable placidness that he can’t read. You’re sitting right in front of him but you’re not really there at all.    

“Let’s talk when you’re back home”, he finally says. “Have a good break.” 

The immature little boy that still lives in his psyche is still unconvinced that it’s a bad idea to drag you back home with him posthaste, but you asked for a break, and it’s the least he can give to you.

You allow him to roll out your futon for you, to swaddle you in layers of blankets as if that would keep you from falling apart any further. As he kisses your forehead to bid you goodnight and goodbye, he feels the brittleness of your bones, the thinness of your skin beneath his palms and he spends the hour-long train ride home wondering how he managed to look away long enough for you to turn into a shadow of your past self.   

He goes straight to your mother’s house to retrieve the girls. As penance, he stands at the front door, head bowed, letting your mother yell at him in front of the neighbours for being a useless husband and an irresponsible father. After all, he deserves every word she flings in his face. He’s just thankful that she doesn’t ream him out in front of the girls. 

“Where’s mama?” Fumiko mumbles half asleep into his neck. “Want mama.”

He cradles her closer. “She’ll be home tomorrow”, he tells her, hoping with every fibre of his being that that does not turn out to be a lie. Aiko, older and wiser, just stays quiet, so he forces a smile on his face for her sake.  

Kuroo Tetsuro is far from okay.

The strain of the day wears on him and he’s sure there are burning emails in his inbox for him to firefight, but there’s a long list of chores to be done in your absence. The girls’ school bags need to be packed (in the case of five year old Fumiko) or checked (for ten year old Aiko), their uniforms to be laid out, the laundry sorted and folded. He barely gets any sleep before he has to hop out of bed to throw together a cold breakfast of milk and cereal that makes Fumiko burst into tears and Aiko’s face droops. By the time he shuffles his two cranky children out of the house and into their respective schools, he’s late for work. 

He meets Bokuto and Kenma for lunch since there’s no lunch bento waiting for him in the fridge, though he regrets the decision to leave the refuge of his work desk for the boardroom of Bouncing Ball Corporation when Mitsuki joins them and, sharp-eyed as ever, sinks her talons into him. 

“You look like shit”, she says to him as a greeting. 

“Thanks”, he grounds out. The girls demanded he work their hair into the neat braids they insisted you always do, so bedhead would have to do for him today. 

“I’ve never seen you without hair gel before”, Bokuto marvels. “You look weird.” 

“I had a crap morning, okay”, he snaps, biting the head off the karaage fish in his store bought bento, which he resents for tasting worse than those you usually make for him. “So I’m sorry if I look slightly less than presentable -” 

“You look like a man whose wife just left him - “ 

Mitsuki’s just stepped right on the wound he’s tried to keep hidden, festering and bleeding beneath his skin, so like an animal lashing out when it’s hurt, Kuroo slaps the table with both palms and snarls. 

“Don’t - don’t fucking say that, okay? She’s just taking a break. She’ll come home.”

He can’t stand to see the shock and pity on his closest friends’ faces. “She’s coming home today”, he repeats softly, almost to himself, as if he’s little Fumiko in need of reassurance that the person she needs most in the world hasn’t just abandoned her. “It’s gonna be okay.” 

Perhaps it’s the maturity that comes with fatherhood, because Bokuto is the first to react. “That’s right, you’re gonna be okay”, he soothes, pulling Kuroo into his seat. “Kenma’s gonna call your boss and tell him that you’re gonna spend the rest of the afternoon here to plan some event - “

“Sponsorship for the Under-19 team, done”, Kenma snaps his phone shut.

“Guys, I’m fine - ” 

“Pretending everything’s okay isn’t going to help.” 

Kuroo deflates. “Thanks, Kenma.” 

Shelving his worthless pride to lay bare the situation he’s found himself in, that by neglecting his duties as a husband and father, he’s forced you to the brink of a mental breakdown, bad enough that you’ve left him - temporarily, he hopes. In the span of a few hours, he’s already found himself at his wit’s end, struggling to handle both the demands of the kids and his job, something that he realises he’s left you to bear, alone. 

“But I can’t figure out why she didn’t just tell me she was feeling overwhelmed”, he says, pulling at a fraying thread in his shirt. “I would’ve listened. I would’ve done better.” 

“She shouldn’t have to tell you to do your part”, Mitsuki waves away Bokuto’s desperate gesture for her not to kick a man when he’s already down. 

“But I didn’t know -” 

“Y’know, I really can’t stand men like you. You guys are amazing at work, able to anticipate your bosses’ and clients’ needs. At this point, you don’t even need to be told by your bosses  to jump, you don’t even ask your clients ‘how high’ - yet, for some reason, you manage to turn off your brain the minute you walk in through the front door at home.”

 “Maybe I should ask her for a list of things I can help her with -” 

Bokuto claps his hand over Mitsuki’s mouth. “Ehhh..you might not wanna finish your sentence or Mitsuki might really bite your head off.” 

Kuroo winces, snapping his mouth shut. 

“Maybe you can think of it in a different way”, Bokuto says. “Instead of ‘helping’ her - cos that’s just placing the mental burden on her - at least, I think that’s the term Mitsuki-chan used when she explained it to me -” the affronted lawyer nods begrudgingly, and beaming, he continues - “you gotta do your half of the work!”

“Level up”, Kenma provides, rather unhelpfully.

“Open your eyes and use your brain”, Mitsuki says bluntly, rolling her eyes, though her tone is less sharp.

“Where do I start?” Kuroo asks. 

Step one. 

He picks the girls up from his mother in law’s place, bears with the lecture that’s awaiting him, and sheepishly asks them what their mama usually feeds them for dinner and breakfast, making a mental note of it. Tonight, he’ll cheat by feeding them gyudon at Sukiya, but he drops by the supermarket to procure the ingredients he needs for tomorrow’s breakfast and a bouquet of pink roses, even though he knows it’s probably too little, too late. He counts himself lucky that Fumiko loves bathtime, only needing supervision to wash and dry her hair, and Aiko’s responsible enough to work through her homework without prompting, but he’s still exhausted by the time they both head to bed. 

His job doesn’t end there. Running through the checklist Mitsuki begrudgingly allowed Bokuto to give him, he surveys the apartment, comparing it against the mental image of how everything was before you left it. Toys scattered, to be put back in place. Dust on floor, to be vacuumed up. A heap of laundry in the basket, to be hung, dried, ironed. 

Just as he finishes all these tasks, the front door swing opens. 

“Tadaima”, you call out, voice hushed. 

He nearly trips over his feet in his haste to relieve you of your luggage, usher you into a seat by the kitchen counter. “Okaerie”, he breathes, 

“The girls?” you ask. 

He’ll buy Bokuto lunch next time. “I picked them up from your mom”, he responds. “Don’t wake them up, I just put them to bed.” 

You peek into their rooms nonetheless. “Thanks”, you say, heading next to the fridge. “By the way, I’ll pay you back for the hotel room from my own money, don’t worry.” 

That’s the last thing on his mind. Besides, his sin is being a neglectful husband, not a miser. “It’s fine, I’ll cover it”, he scratches his head, embarrassed that you’re even bringing it up. “I should’ve realised you needed a break.” 

That makes you frown, but you accept anyway. He watches you stack bread, eggs, ham, cheese, and it strikes him that you’re already worrying about the girls’ breakfast when you look as if you haven’t even had your own dinner. 

“You haven’t had dinner?” he asks. 

You reply carelessly that you’ve had a bento on the train back. You don’t even bother to look at him. 

“I’ll take the girls in the mornings from now”, he tells you. “Sleep in and take a break.” 

That gets your attention. 

“Really?”

He plasters a confident smirk on his face to reassure you that he’s got it all in hand. 

“Oh”, you’re adorable when you’re confused, but he hates that he’s given you reason to doubt him. “Wake me up if you need my help?” 

“I won’t”, he promises. 

It’s time for him to level up.  

Step two. 

He’s not going to lie to himself that he finds it difficult to do even half of what you used to do. Taking over the responsibility of wrangling the girls out of bed and into school, coming home early enough for dinner with you, that requires him to have hard conversations with his boss about not being able to go out for drinks or come in early anymore which probably hurts his chances for his next promotion, forces him to give up an hour or two of sleep, but it’s worth it if it allows you to heal. 

“Don’t expect a gold star for your efforts”, Mitsuki warned him. “It’s just what you should’ve been doing before, so it’s time for you to go above and beyond.” 

He takes her words to heart. You deserve to go to work well-rested, to wind down at night with a hot bath. He’ll buy a robot vacuum and pour over its manual that’s thicker than a textbook, do laundry loads while hopping on and off conference calls, wrestle the iron to press down his own shirts. 

You seem baffled by the sudden shift in the winds, but he just pretends everything is normal. Business as usual. Things are just as they should’ve been. 

In his next push to right his wrongs, he organises a Saturday dinner date with you. The girls are packed off with your mother, he makes the reservation, books the cab, compliments your dress. He asks you about your work (tiring), your boss (a micro-manager), the books you’ve read recently (nada, zilch). In the uphill battle to keep the conversation from being stilted, he makes a fatal mistake. 

“We can make it work if you want to quit your job and stay home full time with the children.” 

In his mind, that was a reasonable suggestion to make since you seem to hate your job and boss with a fiery passion. But you stare at him wide-eyed, your initial confusion hardening into anger. 

“Did the guys at work tell you it’s easier to have a housewife instead of a working wife? Are you saying this because you don’t think I’m a good enough mother to our girls?” 

You don’t give him a chance to backpedal, shooting a sarcastic apology for being selfish enough to refuse to be reliant on him, so he just slumps back in his chair in defeat. 

“I just want you to be happy”, he murmurs. “Forget I ever said that.” 

Step three. 

To figure out step three, he schedules an emergency lunch meeting on Monday. The troops convene in Kenma’s boardroom to listen to his sorry tale with Mitsuki in charge of the post–battle analysis. 

“And remind me again, where did you two meet?” 

His face lights up at the memory of his first meeting with you. “Finance 102”, he replies. “We used to be academic rivals turned teammates after I convinced her I was smart enough for her to work with on projects.”

“What made you fall in love with her?” 

“As much as I hate it, I have to admit she’s probably smarter than me”, he says, though the fond smile that creeps onto his face betrays the fact that he loves that about you. “She’s just - her, she’s headstrong and funny. Did I tell you how she tried to stab me with her fork when I stole food off her plate -” 

“Only a million times”, Kenma interjects. 

“She’s always been independent and ambitious, with big dreams and an even bigger heart.” 

“Well”, Mitsuki says, adopting the mildest tone she’s used on him this month. “Does that sound like a woman who’d choose to stay home and depend on her husband? Not that there’s anything wrong with being a stay-at-home parent - Koutaro makes my career possible, and I’m the luckiest woman in the world to have him as my husband.”

“Babyyyyy.” Bokuto bawls, looking at MItsuki as if she hangs the moon in the sky. 

Gross. Kenma seems to agree. “Let’s get back to Kuroo’s failing marriage”,

“So I shouldn’t bring up the suggestion that she quit her job again?” 

His three person council shake their heads in unison. “Just keep what you’re doing”, Bokuto pipes up. “Sounds like you’re already doing the right things! Just gotta keep making sure she’s not holding up the sky herself.” 

He can do that. 

“And maybe talk to her?”, Kenma offers.

That’s the suggestion that he wants to dismiss right off the bat because he’s too much of a coward to even face the possibility that you might leave him. He doesn’t want to become his dad so he resolves to keep his head down and continue pushing ahead with his efforts to prove to you that he can be the husband you deserve, so you won’t wake up one day and decide to walk out on him again. 

But his subconscious fears force his nightmares into overdrive. Dreams of packed bags and stacks of divorce papers makes him yelp loud enough for you to roll over and shake him awake. He’s a terrible husband for disturbing your sleep, but in his sleep-dazed state of confusion he just sinks back into the pillow, exhaling a sigh of relief. 

“Thank the gods you haven’t left.” 

“Why would I leave?”, you mumble, turning away again. “It’s my home, isn’t it.” 

He sits up, rubs the nightmares away from his eyes. “I was afraid you left me.” 

The silence nearly suffocates him. The sudden need to know exactly where you stand eats away at him and he crawls towards you. “Are you going to leave me”, he asks, praying to all the gods in the universe that you’ll reassure him otherwise. 

His heart breaks anew when he hears a small sob, buried in the bedclothes. “I don’t know, Tetsuro”, you finally say. “I’m tired of being alone in a marriage when it’s supposed to be us working together.” 

“I’m sorry.” There’s nothing much he can say. 

A broken whisper. “I’m tired”, you exhale. “I think I deserve better.”

“I’ll make it better”, he promises. 

He will. He will. 

Kuroo Tetsuro is trying his best. 

He takes a cooking class on the weekends to learn how to prepare bento boxes that are nutritious and easy on the wallet. He takes over the ferrying of Fumiko to her swimming lessons, work on Aiko’s art projects with her. He hires a part time cleaner to pick up the deep cleaning, so you and he have time to take the girls out on weekend outings instead of spending all day on a week’s worth of cumulated chores. A dishwasher appears in the house. He makes it a game for he and the girls to load and unload dishware each night. 

“There’s a networking wine night for finance next Wednesday”, he tells you casually. “I’ll make sure to be home so you can go, if you want.” 

You goggle at him. 

“Go schmooze so the world knows you’re as amazing as I know you are.” 

You trust him enough to leave the girls behind in his care and go. He counts that as a win. 

Some nights he still can’t get home in time for dinner, but he always makes sure he’s home in time for a bedtime story and a goodnight kiss. Aiko avers that at the grand old age of ten, she doesn’t need her papa to tuck her to bed anymore, but she sidles into Fumiko’s room everynight and sits in the corner of her little sister’s bed as the littler girl listens to his tall tales. 

“I met a princess when I was eighteen”, he says with a grin when he notices you listening in. “Instead of a crown, she armed herself with a fork, ready to cut down anyone who’d cross her.” 

His heart skips a beat when he hears your voice from the doorway. “Don’t be dramatic”, you interrupt, a small smile growing on your face. “You were trying to steal my food and didn’t stop ‘til I stabbed you.” 

Fumiko huffs, unhappy that her story’s being interrupted, but he can’t seem to tear his gaze away from you. “You left it on the table, princess. I consider that fair game.” 

“Let ‘to-san tell the story, ka’san.” Aiko grumbles. 

He savours your laughter. It tastes better than the finest wine. 

“I can’t believe I have to fly all the way to Italy just to meet Kageyama-kun”, he huffs. “At least Hinata is meeting us there, I’ll revolt if I had to go up to Brazil as well.” 

“You know it can’t be helped”, you reply. “The promotional activities planned need your presence, and it’s only for a week.” 

“Will you be okay when I’m gone?” 

His fears melt away when you hand him his suitcase, a flask of his favourite tea. “I’ve always managed fine. Nothing’s changed.” 

His little monsters, realising that he’s about to leave, decide to launch a synchronised attack on him. Aiko throws herself at him in a bear hug. Fumiko yanks at his sleeve demanding a thousand kisses. 

“Yes, well. I’ll be home soon. Please wait for me” he says to you when the girls finally release him. The expression on your face is unreadable, but you don’t pull away when he takes the liberty of taking your hand in his. 

He feels your heartbeat accelerates. You glance up at him, almost shy. “I’ll see you soon.” 

He’s so tempted to call his boss and pretend that he’s too ill to get on that damned flight, but he’s pretty sure that would get him fired. Instead, he calls you and the girls every day, and brings home a luggage full of presents for all of you. 

When he’s home, he celebrates by putting on the frilliest pink apron he’s ever seen (courtesy of Yaku, who sent it to him all the way from Moscow as a joke) and throwing an elaborate takoyaki party, replete with customised toppings - octopus, cheese and shrimp, which the girls enjoyed even if he burnt the first batch and had to call Fukunaga frantically for tips to rescue the rest. It turns out to be such a success that he makes it a weekly event. Okonomiyaki is next, which he flips with expert confidence on a hot plate to the applause of you and the girls. 

“Itadakimasu”, you clap your hands together. “It tastes good.” 

He nearly melts into his pan. “Thank you”, he replies. “It means a lot, coming from you.” 

His nights are still plagued by nightmares.

Things are better with you, he likes to think. The violets beneath your eyes are replaced by roses in your cheeks. He hears you humming about the house again. You pick up reading again,  the shelves in the house start to groan under the weight of books belonging to the girls and you. You’re as eager as the girls to go on the next adventure, whether it be a summer night out in the park with sparklers, or a nerf gun battle at home on rainy days. 

Still, he doesn’t know for sure what he’s doing is enough for you and he’s too much of a coward to check. So he’ll wake up almost every night, fumble in the dark just to make sure you’re there. 

You’re there, until you aren’t. 

It’s three in the morning. The space beside him is cold and empty. 

He throws off the blankets, trips on his bed slippers. He crashes through into the living room and oh, there you are - sitting at the dining table, typing furiously at your laptop while mouthing off to yourself about the ridiculous demands your client makes. 

“What’s wrong?” you frown. 

He walks towards you, trying to discern that you’re real, you’re there, not some trick of the light.. 

“You’re - you’re still here.” 

You nod slowly, eyeing him strangely. “My boss called and asked me to send out an urgent email. I was just about to go back to bed.” 

He exhales, tries to force his trembling heart back into his chest. He thinks he’s doing a good job trying to act nonchalant, smoothing back his frazzled mane of hair, but you see right through him as you always do. 

“Tetsuro”, you say slowly. “Is everything alright? 

The truth tumbles out of his mouth. “I thought you were gone.” 

Then he hangs his head, looks at his feet, afraid that he’ll only see rejection in your eyes. He’s a pathetic failure of a husband who has a decade’s worth of sins to make up for, and there’s no justification for him to selfishly to seek your absolution. 

It comes anyway, in the form of soft hands pulling him forward. 

“I’m here”, you say, pulling him into your embrace, letting him rest his heavy head in your lap.

He doesn’t allow himself to sink into your warmth. “Are you happier now? Are things better for you?” 

“Yes”, he hears you say. The tension he’s been carrying around these few months lifts. “Thank you, Tetsuro. I appreciate it. I really do. You don’t have to work yourself to death - that’s never what I was asking for. If you’re tired -”

He shakes his head at your suggestion. He’s got a long way yet before he earns any reprieve. 

“Tetsuro -” 

He sits up abruptly, takes your hands in his. 

“Promise you won’t leave me”, he pleads. “I know you’ve had to carry what must’ve felt like the weight of the entire world on your own, and I don’t have any excuse for that.”

“You don’t”, you agree. 

He accepts the blow but he takes comfort that you don’t pull away. “I know that now. I know now how fucking hard it was to do it all alone.”

“It was hard. It was so, so hard, Tetsuro. I became numb to the pain. I don’t think I was functioning, I haven’t been for a while. For a long, long while.” 

“I’m sorry”, his voice cracks. 

“I know.”  You cup his face in your hands, offers him comfort he doesn’t deserve. “That’s a chapter of our marriage that’s past, that can’t be unwritten. But the past few months have been different. You’ve shown me that you’ve changed.” 

The first glimmer of sunlight after a long, dark winter. Hope blooms with your smile. 

“I think”, you say. “I think we can make this work again.” 

He stares at you, dumbstruck. Then the fact that you’re giving him another chance dawns upon him, and he crashes forward to rest his head on your shoulder, unashamed to cry tears of relief. 

“Thank you”, he exhales brokenly. “I won’t fuck this up again, I promise.”

You press a kiss to his forehead, curl up trustingly in his arms. “Don’t thank me”, you laugh. “Thank yourself for making me believe in you.” 

 He drinks up each drop of your affection, falls asleep in the cradle of your arms. 

“Is this what flirting is like?” 

He wakes up to Aiko’s impertinent question, her hands on hips looking distinctly unimpressed at finding her parents asleep on the sofa, entwined together. 

“Who taught you that word?” Kuroo asks, aghast that his ten year old daughter even recognises the existence of the opposite gender. 

Aiko sticks her tongue at him, and he’s too distracted by Fumiko taking a flying leap onto the sofa with them, chattering a thousand miles an hour about what’s for breakfast and whether they can go to the zoo this afternoon - though he pins his suspicions on Bokuto’s trio of sons. 

“Monsters”, he says. “Can’t even give your to-san a break to snuggle up to your pretty ka’san.” 

The girls shriek in dismay - Aiko, at being a witness to further gross displays of affection between her parents, Fumiko, at being called a monster despite being a self-proclaimed princess. You prod at the soft flesh between his ribs. 

“Don’t be mean”, you admonish him. 

He sniffs, taking the chance to draw you closer. “I’m cranky in the mornings unless I get a morning kiss.” 

You snort, swatting at him. “You make it sound as if kisses contain caffeine.” 

The girls giggle, but he protests. 

“Full of nonsense”, you tease, but you kiss him, again and again and again. 

Things settle into a steady, sustainable pace. 

You refuse to allow him to bear the weight of the household on his back alone. There are frank conversations to be had about what each of you can realistically handle without burning out. He leads the charge in the mornings, whipping up breakfast with the aid of his two sous chefs, building an expertise in braiding and french twists that could possibly allow him to moonlight as a hairstylist. You, on the other hand, take charge of evening pick-ups, cooking dinners, supervising homework and art projects until he comes home and tags you out. 

Chores are evenly split. He doesn’t allow you to assume the mental load of organising the household by yourself. “We both have a degree in business management”, he likes to remind you, because he now knows that remembering to run errands, scheduling appointments - all of this is work too. 

You force him to take breaks. If you get to relax with your friends, so should he. “If you get too stressed, you’ll lose your hair and we can’t have that.” He yelps when he imagines himself bald and obediently complies when you call Kenma up, talk him into getting him and Bokuto and Akaashi (when he’s feeling less morose about his singlehood) to go for a round of pick up volleyball. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself”, you note wryly when he returns home crowing about how he stuffed an Olympic player with a kill block. 

“I did”, he replies, catching your hips to pull you in, cheekily ignoring your complaints that he’s sweaty. “But I enjoy coming home to you even more.”

“Gross”, you grumble, but you seem content to remain in his arms. 

It’s another small moment he treasures. Life, he learns, is made of moments, both big and small. He’d made the mistake of only focusing on the big ones - graduation, playing at nationals, the day he was lucky enough to marry you, each of his daughter’s birthdays. Now, though, he cherishes each moment, each second he has with you and the girls, no matter how little, no matter how small. 

He likes to come into the bathroom each night, leaning his elbow on the edge of the bathtub as you chat to him about your day, luxuriating in the bath he drew for you. You and he take turns to complain about life’s inconveniences as you clear emails once the girls have gone off to bed- colleagues who shirk their work, bosses who nitpick overmuch, washing everything down with steaming cups of herbal tea. 

“Are you happy?”, he asks you, night after night. 

“Mm”, you say with an impish grin. “I’d be happier if you let me put my toes on your calves.” 

“They’re freezing”, he groans but scoots over anyway. “Better?” 

“Much better”, you hum, content. “Life is good.”

He’s not remiss in planning the big moments too. 

A year passes quickly to your wedding anniversary. He packs your suitcase, books the train tickets and whisks you back to the ryokan in Hakone, though this time he upgrades you both to their largest suite. “I feel like a princess!” you exclaim, twirling about the room. 

Your happiness is worth every yen he spent. 

You spend the day strolling down avenues lined with cherry blossoms, Mount Fuji looming in the backdrop, the evening exchanging heated kisses in the private onsen he booked. You’re older now, with laughter lines creased into your forehead, grey streaks in your hair, but you’re still the same girl he fell in love with all those years ago. 

“And you couldn’t wait ‘til we got back to our room?” you smack him. 

He also loves how there’s fire burning bright in your eyes, the way it always used to. “You kissed me first!” 

“You kissed me second!” 

“I don’t hear you complaining”, he cackles. 

You try to shush him, to no avail, as he draws the attention of everyone around him.

“What a happy couple”, an obaa-san remarks out loud. “They must be newlyweds.”  

Well, she’s not wrong. You’re as radiant as you were fifteen years ago, his spring bride, but he’s an old man doddering on, hopefully with his edges sanded off with time. “Just your regular old, married couple”, he chortles when you’re safely back in the room. 

“A happily married couple”, you reply, serenely sipping your tea. “That obaa-san definitely got that part right.” 

There’s a lump in his throat that he can’t swallow. “Are you happy?” he manages to ask anyway. 

“With you?” Your smile is warm, bright. Always.”

Both of you are doing alright.

a/n: it's been a while, hasn't it. i've been alright - how are you guys doing?

[asterias-record-shop]

Okay, but Stiles finally spoiling you with a date night after weeks of working himself to the bone on his current FBI case 😭❤️👏🏻 Maybe he gets a call in the middle of the date with someone trying to interrupt (unintentionally), but tonight is all about you?

no because this is so cute!! probably going to make a pt 2 :) also, Dylan O’Brien as Thomas?? omfg

—𓆩[honey, honey]𓆪—

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪

𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - FBI Agent! Stiles Stilinski x Fem! Fiancée! Reader

𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - fluff

𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 1.3K

𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - It’s been a long fucking week, and Stiles has finally caught a break to spend time with you… until he gets a call right in the middle about the case he’s working on, but tonight is about you and nothing is going to change that.

𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - totally made you a spoiled princess in this, Stiles loves you too much to say no || FBI office based off of the BAU from Criminal Minds and like a little crossover || cursing I think? ||

“How’s the case coming along, Stilinski?” Agent Morrison asks, a sigh coming from Stiles’ mouth as he stares down at the stack of files on his desk.

He grins up at the man. “Absolutely delightful, Agent Morrison.”

“Oh yeah?” He laughs, looking down at his watch. “Gonna tell the missus you’re going to be home late?”

Stiles looks at the wedding band he didn’t stop playing with, sighing. “No, I’m going to go home early, actually. It’s date night.”

Agent Morrison laughs. “Date night! Date nights are good, don’t stop having those,” he looks down at his ring, sighing. “Makes the spark dim.”

Stiles sits there awkwardly for a minute. “Not too late to start them up again?”

Agent Morrison nods slightly. “You’re right. Well, your new partner is supposed to be coming in any minute, he was supposed to be here-”

“I’m here! I’m here!” A voice yells, quickly running in as they panted. “I’m here, I missed the bus.”

Stiles stares for a minute, jaw slack. “Dude, are you okay?”

“Yes! Yes I’m fine!” He walked forward. “I’m Dr. Spencer Reid, I work with the BAU at Quantico, I’m here for Mieczyslaw-”

“Stiles,” the said man stands quickly, shaking his head. “Everyone calls me Stiles.”

Reid paused. “Stiles… Stiles Stilinski?”

“That’s what I said,” Agent Morrison stands, sighing. “Well, you both have fun. If you need anything, don’t call me.”

“We will call you as soon as we have a problem, Morrison!” Stiles yells as Morrison goes up the stairs.

“Don’t do that!”

“I’m positive I will, Morrison!”

“You do that, I’ll kill you!”

“Calling you right now sir!” Stiles smiles when he hears the door slam shut, another man stepping into the office. “That your bodyguard?”

Reid looks back and he shakes his head. “Oh no, that’s Morgan! Derek Morgan.”

Stiles hums, waiting for the other man to come to his substitute desk while he waits for everyone to clean his office.

The taller man walks over, a bright smile on his face. “You must be M-”

“Stiles!” Morrison yells out, opening his door. “Your offices are clean and Y/N is here!”

His brows furrow, it wasn’t that late was it? He opened the drawer with his phone, it was only 2:30 and he wasn’t supposed to get off until at least 5:00. “Uhm, I’m sorry, give me one second.”

When his phone rings again, he quickly answers it. “Hey honey-”

“I brought you lunch.”

He looks up, smiling when he sees you holding up a bag of food making him hang up, quickly excusing himself from his new partners. He jogs over to you, smiles wide as he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your head. “Hey.”

You giggled, handing him the bag. “Hey. Made some of your favorite, just thought I’d bring it by.”

He nods, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you in for a soft kiss. “You’re fucking amazing, honey.”

“I know,” you laughed as you pressed another kiss to his lips. “I’ll see you later?”

He basically pouts. “You can’t stay a bit longer?”

You shake your head, softly brushing your hand against his cheek. “Last time I stayed we fucked in your office.”

He grins mischievously. “Well my office is almost clean-”

“Behave, Stiles!” Two voices say, both yours and Morrison’s whose door was now open.

“Yeah, okay!” He yelled back, looking down at you. “He won’t know.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “No, I still have to get back home and finish making our food for tonight.”

He really does pout this time. “You’re no fun.”

You hum. “I’ll remember that, Stilinski.” He groans dramatically before you press a soft kiss to his lips. “I love you. See you later.”

He nods, smiling. “I love you too.”

It doesn’t take long for Stiles to get off, giving his number to his new partners before making his way home where you already made dinner, and for fucks sake it was delicious.

You both settled on the couch, a movie you both really weren’t paying attention to as you sat on Stiles’ lap, his hands on your hips as you leaned back into him.

He laughs as he holds your chin, pulling you back just enough for a soft kiss. “You know, I was thinking-”

“Oh well that doesn’t sound good,” you teased, making him roll his eyes playfully. “What about?”

He shrugs, leaning into the crook of your neck. “Just… you know, I get my bonus soon.”

“Right,” you say, looking back just enough to look at his eyes. “What’s up?”

“We should take a trip, or something,” he says, shrugging. “I have some paid time off, you work for yourself… what do you think?”

You smiled widely, nodding. “I think that sounds fucking amazing.”

He smiled, pressing a soft kiss to your lips again. “Perfect. And how’s our wedding coming along?”

Stiles left you in charge of pretty much everything, all he was doing was paying for it.

“Oh, good! I’m going dress shopping soon,” you say with a wide smile. “I’m super excited. Have a feeling this one will be great.”

You both had been engaged for a while, but you both wanted everything to be perfect before actually tying the knot, and Stiles wasn’t going to let you walk down the aisle in a dress you didn’t love.

He smiled, his hands sneaking around your waist as he kissed the back of your neck. “I know it will be, love. You liked that dress we saw in Mexico, right? You want to go dress shopping there?”

You gasp, quickly turning around in his lap. “You’d do that?”

He laughs. “Well, of course I will. But we need to bring an extra suitcase to make sure it fits.”

You pull him in for a firm kiss, humming. “You’re fucking amazing.”

He smiles before his phone starts to ring, pulling you closer before you finally pull away. “What if it’s important?”

He shook his head, pulling you back down. “Nothings more important than you.”

He pulled you back down for another kiss, your hands pushing into the back of his shirt before his phone continued to ring. You pulled away, sighing as you grabbed his phone and handed it to him. “Don't worry, I’ll be okay for the five minutes it takes you to talk to them.”

He rolled his eyes playfully. “What if I’m not?”

You answer the phone, making him straighten. “This is Stilinski.”

“Hi Agent Stilinski, this is Dr. Spencer Reid, we met today, I’m your new partner along with Derek Morgan, but he isn’t here right now…” Reid continues to mutter, making Stiles raise a brow.

“Dr. Reid, is there a… point to this call?”

“Oh, yes! Sorry, I was wondering if you were busy right now? I found something big.”

He looks at you, your slightly sad smile as you pressed a soft kiss to his temple. “We can finish the movie later.”

“Y/N, honey-” he sighs as you go into the kitchen, rubbing the center of his forehead. “I’m sorry, Dr. Reid, do you mind if we talk about it tomorrow? I’m with my fiancée right now.”

Reid exclaims. “Oh, right! Sorry, talk to you tomorrow bye!” Reid hangs up quickly, Stiles smiling as he goes into the kitchen.

He comes behind you, arms wrapping around your waist and kissing against your temple. “Moved plans to tomorrow. We got all night, honey.”

You giggled, turning around. “I already looked at tickets to Mexico. What week are we thinking?”

“Any week you want, darling. This week is all about you.”

Taglist: 𓆩[@lem0ns77]𓆪 𓆩[@cecepop15]𓆪 𓆩[@memeorydotcom]𓆪 𓆩[@your-favorite-god]𓆪

© asterias-record-shop

[moon-and-seraph]

Words into Potions: a month-long writing challenge!

We're excited to announce Moon + Seraph's newest event...

Words into Potions (or, WIP!)

Join us this March 1st - 31st for a month-long writing challenge, where any and all types of writing goals are welcome! Use our event to draft a whole novel, outline a new WIP, finish a short story, or accomplish anything writing-related!

We have lots of exciting freebies to help you along the journey!

Track your milestones on a free, downloadable map

Collect digital writing-themed badges

When you reach your goal, randomly pull 1 of 12 digital tarot-inspired cards

Plus, to celebrate our birthday and the event finale on March 31st, we encourage you to post an introduction of your WIP(s) and a wrap-up of all the progress you made. Tag us and we'll reblog your post!

Optionally, join our Discord server to get more out of the Words into Potions writing challenge!

(Learn more about the server here.)

Earn special Discord roles by doing writing sprints

Participate in a weekly writing marathon, where we collectively try to reach a larger goal

Weekly WIP question trades, where we talk about each other's stories and encourage each other to keep writing

Share links to any progress updates you post on Tumblr in our dedicated event promotion channel, and we'll reblog them here

For a sneak peek at our free rewards and more details, read on below!

If you're going to participate or just want to help spread the word, please give this post a reblog! It's very hard for posts to be seen on Tumblr right now, and we really, really want this to find as many writers as possible.

Take a peek at a small section of our milestone map!

As you journey to your writing goal in March, you can also journey through a forest and collect different ingredients from mythical characters, creatures, and locations! Our map milestones are percentage based, which means they'll work for any goal you choose. Whether it's words, pages, hours, or anything else!

This is a super high-res file, so you'll be able to set it as your desktop wallpaper, zoom-in on all the details, and even print it as a poster!

Find our milestone map here!

Find details for printing here!

Here's 3 of our 38 writing badges, designed just for this event!

When we get closer to March we'll release a full list of our badges for you to reference and download throughout the month, or if you're in our Discord server, we'll have an automated system for you to claim your badges!

We encourage you to share the badges you earn on Tumblr, along with your progress! Please @ us in your posts if you do, so we can reblog and encourage you!

Find our writing badges here!

Reach your goal, and randomly pull 1 of 12 digital, tarot-inspired cards!

These are digital, downloadable cards that you can share on Tumblr, set as a phone lock-screen, and even print! We'll have size options for different desktop/phone wallpapers, as well as some dark mode versions!

Find our Winner's Cards here!

Things to Know:

Words into Potions begins on March 1st 2024 and ends on March 31st 2024.

This event is geared toward original fiction writers, but all are welcome to participate.

Our Discord server is 18+ only, with no exceptions.

Our milestone map is free for personal use, but under no circumstances are you allowed to use it for commercial use (any situation in which you profit, financially or otherwise). You may not modify it in any way that obscures the Moon + Seraph watermark, and you may not claim that you created it.

Our writing badges are also free for personal use, but not commercial use, and you can't claim that you created them.

Our tarot-inspired card rewards are also free for personal use, but not for commercial use, and you can't claim that you created them.

Have questions? Send us an ask!

We're very excited about this writing challenge, so we're more than happy to answer any questions you have!

[space-writes]

why i write in obsidian.md (and why you should try it!)

hey, hi, have I mentioned my notes app? let me tell you about my notes app! I’ve been writing in obsidian for over a year now, for fanfic and original fiction/worldbuilding (and dungeons and dragons, and life organisation, and a myriad of other things) and so far I’ve gotten at least three people to also start using it, and I am in fact on an endless quest to get more people to try it.

obsidian.md how do i love thee, let me list the ways:

It’s offline. you are not beholden to the whims of wifi!

Did i mention it’s free? it’s free!

you can pay to support the devs, or to access the sync service, but honestly I just use a free file sync service to move things between my desktop/laptop.

It’s super lightweight at its core. you can (and I do) run it with a bunch of plugins and customisation, but at it’s base it’s just text, in simple files. plaintext. readable by anything. your writing is not trapped in proprietary file formats.

HOWEVER you can in fact customise every aspect of it and if you like Making Your Notes Cute I cannot recommend it enough as a Way To Procrastinate Actually Writing

Crucially, you can link your notes. This is phenomenal for not only worldbuilding, but planning, research, outlining and connecting characters and events. You just make a note, type in square brackets, and boom. linked notes. You can make yourself a little writing wikipedia with approximately 0 effort.

I have separate vaults (Instances, pretty much. Big overarching folders with separate sets of content) for my Valloroth project, my day-to-day notes/fanfic, and my D&D game. They’re aesthetically very different, which is so so so great for getting in the right headspace for the work I’m doing.

OH and we have obsidian canvas now! which is a simple mind-mapping feature where you can make and connect note cards, which can also be notes in your vault. I haven’t had a chance to do timelines with it yet, but it’ll be fun for that. I have made relationship charts with it, and it was great for that. If you like visually laying out boxes of information and connecting them into a pepe silvia board of plot, canvas is incredible

this is a pointcrawl map I made for my D&D game. Those red words in the boxes? links to the locations in the city the players were exploring. phenomenal

do you like split screen? you can have multiple notes open at once in horizontal and vertical configurations, and you can also open multiple tabs in each split window. it’s SO great for research and outlining, when you need like ten documents open at once to move between

finally, there are so many addons to COMPLETELY CUSTOMISE your Writing Setup. styling for tags. kanban boards. LINKABLE MAPS. ways to label scenes with metadata and pull just so many different tables/lists of story information. AND SO MANY MORE. I’m gonna do a whole post of my favourite writing plugins at some point so i can yell about them

the only downsides are that it’s somewhat clunky still to export things out of obsidian—I copy my fics into googledocs for my beta, and I have a plugin to make exporting to html easier to post on ao3, but it’s still kinda fiddly. Also, if you want a program that Has Everything and Just Works, this is…not that. you can build a lot of really useful writing specific features, but you do have to build them. it’s a sandbox, so if you don’t like sandbox-style programs, this may not work for you.

that being said, I do think everyone should try it and play with it and love it like I do and convince all their friends to start using it like i did. come play with obsidian with me! it’s fun! there’s a great community in the official discord that’s very active, plus an ever-growing collection of resources, particularly on youtube (highly reccommend Danny Hatcher’s videos as a jumping in point, they’re super accessible imo)

anyway, come try obsidian!

[ch4nb4ng]

The Pompous Laywer

Pairing: Changbin x afab!reader

Genre: Enemies to lovers

Word count: 12.3k (jesus i know i always say i get carried away but this is the worst one to date)

Warning: 18+ fic, swearing, mentions of police and law, kissing, fingering, mentions of behind, breasts and nipples, penetration, mentions of erections, precum, switch (?) both people, no huge dynamics of any type, semi-public sex

Note: hey !!! I have binge watched the tv show The rookie and I'm obsseseed with it so I based this fic loosely off two of the characters on thw show. I will put a link here of the vibes of these chracters so you can get an idea of the vibe I was going for (here) and (here) . No visual inspo today it got deleted :(

Taglist: @seo--changbin @j-0ne25 @cb97whoree @kpopsstuffs

Summary: Tension was at an all time high between you, the very capable and well established police officer, and the arrogant, smug lawyer who was always in your way. That was, until he actually needed you for a favour, out of the precinct, and on his office.

It was a breezy day at police headquarters for the team. The holidays were over, meaning that crime rate was low, and mainly because today was an admin day for you; your least favorite. Stacks on top of stacks of finishing reports, filing said reports, making sure that it is impeccable shape. The last time you accidentally filed a case on August 21 instead of August 20, the captain gave it to you for days. 

****

That was years ago, during your rookie days. Now being a training officer, things were more fun. It was also easy to pick on the rookies that were assigned to you, feeling partly vindicated for what you had to experience during your own early days. However, without sounding too cliche, it also allowed them to become the best cops they could be, and it was fun to become friends with them, have them become your fellow colleagues and knowing that if you were in any high risk situation, they would have the training and rationality to have your back and do what is necessary.

***

Your eyes boggled as you sat at your desk, immediately noticing the way your fellow police officer, and best friend, Felix avoided eye contact when chucking the thick mound of paper onto the edge of your desk. The Sergeant was already out and about, checking and maintaining his authority by checking who was working and who was not. Sergeant Bang was not surprised to see you doing other things than what you were supposed to be doing; it was very obvious when you were staring at the large analog clock that was plastered on the wall, facing the opposite direction of your desk.

“How’s the paperwork going?”

“Pff,” you huffed, falling face first into the humongous pile, “Sergeant Bang, it’s a lot but I’ll get it done.”

“Good work y/n, I need at least half done by the end of the day, you need to take Hyunjin out on the street today, and you need to follow up on a house disturbance that occurred yesterday.”

“Yes sir.”

Your designated rookie, Hyunjin, was walking over to your desk, a large smile greeting his face as he took his seat next to you.

“Good morning Y/n, how are you today?”

“Can you not see the stack here? Get to work rookie, we need half of this done at midday so we can head back to that house we visited yesterday.”

“Got it,” Hyunjin replied, still smiling as he enthusiastically grabbed a quarter and clicked his pen, getting straight to it. You were lucky this year, taking on one of the rookies that was keen to listen, but also didn’t take it to heart when you criticized or made jokes. Most rookies understood that it was part of the process to earn your extra stripes.

Midday could not come fast enough. You were drowning in paperwork, and a coffee was definitely something you needed if your brain was not going to shut down. A large yawn fell from your lips as you rose from your chair, sluggishly making your way to the break room. The coffee pot had just been boiled, thank god, simply needing to just pour it in. Your arms moved slowly, sluggish movements following before a single drop touched your lips. Oh the feeling of sweet relief as the warm liquid ran down your throat, giving you enough energy to get back to your desk and into the swing of paperwork.

The pile descended bit by bit, but when the clock struck midday, a jolt of electricity sparked through your body as you nudged Hyunjin to get the tactical gear and prepare the shop. Felix was standing next to you, waiting for his own rookie to complete the same action.

“How is Hyunjin going?”

“Yeah good, kinda felt bad that he got stuck with my paperwork.”

A smirk came to Felix’s face, a playful punch coming into contact with your shoulder after.

“You made him do most of your own admin work? Damn, your harsh T.O y/l/n.”

A giggle came after Felix’s gentle criticism, “work hard play hard right? Got much on in the afternoon?”

“Not really, but we are only doing street patrol for a couple of hours today. Mr. Douchebag is coming in because I booked one of his clients yesterday.”

Fuck. When Felix said Mr. Douchebag, you knew exactly who he was talking about. Seo Changbin, the most scumbag defense attorney's known to mankind. Acted like he owned the place whenever he came into the precinct, treated sargents, captains, and police officers with little to zero respect. It’s people like him in the legal system that you simply did not want to make time for.

“For fucks sake,” you mumbled, “when is here not the fucking here?”

“Unfortunately,” Felix paused, covering his mouth to prevent anyone from hearing you gossip on the job, “and I hate to give him credit, but he somehow manages to represent every person in here, and most of them seem to get off. He’s trying to get me for unlawful captivity on the drug dealer we busted yesterday.”

“Pfft,” you scoffed, “of course he is. He-,”

Before you could continue, a sudden bubble of anger traveled across your fibers as you saw him walk into the precinct. Suited up, completely, that fucking brown leather briefcase he always carried. God. Even the way he held his chin up, facial expression showing nothing but arrogance because he knew that as soon as he saw you or Felix, he was going to be relentless. 

“God he’s such a douchebag.”

“Listen Y/n, I actually hate him, you on the other hand,” Felix paused, giving you an unimpressed look, “Try not to get your panties in a twist.”

“Dude,” you hit him, face heating up from his rather honest remark.

The two of you had a history. From the multiple times he got his clients to remain silent, released on bail when they should not have been. Having to testify as the officer on scene and he would do everything in his power to tear you down, make you look incompetent. Changbin was a menace, and if it was anybody else you would admire how smart and hard working someone like that was. But to do that, let’s just say you would rather get hit by a bus like Regina George. He always, for some reason that baffled you to try and work out, was always obsessed with proving you wrong. Felix’s ‘wrongdoings’ were ones he liked to point out too, but yours were tenfold. It’s like he thought that you should be fired not everytime you apparently did something against the law, but more specifically when it was something he didn’t like. Something that went against his own personal morals, and that’s what irritated you the most. The pompous lawyer only did what aligned with his morals and values, which to any normal person, would be the opposite of most. Every word that came out of his mouth gave you a headache.

But god, was he hot. There was always a tension, the strength of it based on how fiery the disagreements became,  that filled the room whenever a conversation (if you were putting your interactions nicely) was sparked between the two of you. It was easy for all the officers to see, and the amount of shit you copped for it was an understatement. Especially since you worked in a job where everyone’s observational skills were of high standard. Nonetheless, you would never let anything get in the way of your job, and that meant never mixing business with pleasure. I mean, not that you wanted to, because as soon as he opened his mouth, any feasible positive thought of attraction or whatever it was that made you feel drawn for him for a second flew out the window.

It didn’t take long for him to identify the two of you, a sly smile covering his lips as he strode over, expensive dress shoes, ones that he bought by most likely overcharging his clients ten fold to support his wannabe lavish lifestyle, clicked across the concrete floor and as soon as he was standing in front of you, his eyes gazed down then slowly back up, making sure to up his sleaziness by checking you out. If punching someone in the face wasn’t illegal, Seo Changbin would be knocked out cold.

“Officers.”

The two of you refused to look in the eye, the pompous lawyer very much undeserving of your respect, let alone your attention. He chuckled when he noticed, readjusting his suit in an attempt to gain control over whatever this interaction was.

“Long time no see,” you replied with the fakest smile, gritting your teeth in resistance.

“How fortunate,” he fake pouted, completely matching your energy, “I’m not here for you today, I’m here for him.”

Felix crossed his arms and stood strong to keep his high standard of authority with Changbin.

“My client hasn’t said a word in 48 hours, so you need to let him go.”

Your best friend rolled his eyes as he said nothing, allowing him to walk passed as headed over to the investigation room. You could tell straight away that Felix was flat, another defeat he had experienced at the hands of this ruthless, douchebag, absolutely cock of a lawyer. It got under your skin even more each time. Nonetheless, maintaining a high standard of professionalism meant having the communication skills required to result in efficient or necessary outcomes. You placed a hand on Felix’s gripped wrist, opening it up and hoping he would take a deep breath.

“Felix come on,” you whispered, easily able to feel the lawyer's eyes burning into the side of your head, “we’ll get him next time.”

He shrugged you off, heading back to his desk and engrossing himself in paperwork. You knew not to take it personally, seeing as his frustration wasn’t with you, but rather with how Changbin always seemed to have the upper hand on the two of you. 

**

Hyunjin was taking an awfully long time, especially since Changbin has already left the interrogation room, making a v line straight for you again. His stance was still cocky as hell, hanging up his phone call with the perfect timing so he could stand right in your face. His hair was parted on the side, bangs slicked back, exposing his forehead. His shoulders were wider than usual, arms bulging out of the jacket as his smirk sent a shiver down your spine. Fuck. 

You were lying if you said that he wasn’t attractive, objectively speaking of course. He always had some kind of smoothness about him, even if it was arrogant, on some days, maybe when you were feeling vulnerable or frustrated, he was always something to look at. Wearing clothes that were way too tight was clearly a staple, but it’s not like you were complaining. If anything, the cocky persona, sometimes, was a little arousing. But then as soon as he opened his mouth, all of that perceived charisma and attraction disappeared.

“God it feels good getting them out unscathed.”

“Find somewhere else to gloat Changbin,” you scoffed, eyes fixated in the way his tie arched across his chest, “I’m not the person who made the arrest.”

“Oh I know, it makes me sad,” he fake pouted once more, “I kind of wish you were the arresting officer, could have spent more time working together.”

There was a slight pang in your chest at his words. You knew that he was joking, his sarcasm was impossible to not notice. He took a step even closer, now in your personal space. He raked another peek up and down, another god evil smirk plastering his lips. His look definitely did not go unnoticed. You took no pleasure in cowering away from him, standing strong and face tough because you knew better than to give him any benefit of the doubt that he would turn around and treat you with any kind of decency.

“Yeah well I’m not and you should know better than to interact with me if there aren’t any pressing cases or charges that I am involved in.”

“Yeah I know, which is why I am talking to you.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, mind scrambling as you had quite literally no idea what on earth he could be talking about. There were no open cases of yours right now, and even if they were, it had been passed onto detectives as the severity of the cases were too much for an officer. 

“Yeah, you know your T.O? How he was arrested for drug trafficking in front of the whole office last month? Yeah, well it turns out he asked me to defend him.”

The case sent you into a frenzy. Your T.O was the backbone on how you became the cop you were today. They got you through the trials and tribulations. Seeing a lot of gruesome things on the job was hard to conceptualize at first, but they were the first to comfort and assure you that things would be okay. When it was announced, 3 days before public knowledge, it broke your heart. Made you question everything that you thought you knew about policing. Therefore, for Changbin to bring up not only the arrest, but the fact that he was defending him was a low blow, even for him.

“Are you fucking serious?”

“Of course. Earning the cop money is fucking great.”

You could feel the heat under the uniform rising rapidly, the mixture of stress at the mention of the anxiety induced name was not a good combination when standing in front of a person you already wanted to punch in the face solely for their existence.  

“You shouldn’t be defending them.”

Changbin’s expression changed, the cocky arrogant facade of Changbin to one more serious, like he was offended by what you said. Here you go, accidentally offending his so-called morals and beliefs. Always more important to him than the actual law.

“And what gives you the right to tell me who I can and can’t defend?”

You rolled your eyes at his question. “Look, I know you like to defend the scum, but this is the lowest.”

“That’s why I did it. Cops are just the worst, and defending an ex cop is great to me, but let’s not get brash and cut straight to the chase. I need you for the case.”

The look on your face was priceless. The shock was real, and you were too busy processing his words to realize his hardness dropped, the arrogance disappearing when he saw the hurt pouring from your eyes. The atmosphere changed, and it was more of one where Changbin, shocking himself, felt guilt toward you.

“Like hell I’m defending that piece of shi-”

“Wait,” he interrupted, another expression, this one different, more like concern as he heard the slight strain of hurt in your vocals, “I feel bad asking, but they want you as a character witness.”

Your frustration was reaching a new point, boiling point coming up much sooner than you would have liked. A tear threatened to spill from your eyes as you quickly flicked it away, not wanting the pompous lawyer to see any form of vulnerability, to know he beat you. Every conversation with Changbin was a competition; sometimes you won, sometimes you lost. He placed a hand on your shoulder, wanting to comfort you in a way that wasn’t too personal and suspicious in a public place. However, for you this was personal, and anyone with half a brain cell knew that this would strike a very sensitive cord within you. The tension was thick, and it was a relief that you could see your rookie coming back over to break up whatever this moment was.

“Here,” Changbin took out his business card, “it has my phone number on it. If you agree to do it, we will have to have a meeting to go over things. You don’t have to, but they would greatly appreciate it.”

You said nothing, a light smile across your face as you let yourself fall into the dream that was Changbin’s gaze. You weren’t sure if it was the sudden calming, friendly demeanor and lack of goblin behavior that you didn't know he was capable of expressing, or the idea that the buttons on his shirt were getting tighter and tighter, the spaces between them getting bigger the longer he stood there. It was hard to form a word the more time you spent with him.

Hyunjin was back, finished loading the shop before you could continue your shit talking conversation. You coughed to adjust yourself, not wanting for Changbin or your rookie to see that he was under your skin.

“All ready boot?”

He nodded, a friendly smile as he followed you, grin disappearing as he noticed your vulnerable demeanor. Hyunjin stepped in front of you, feeling the need to protect you from him, and to close the already small space that the two of you were sharing. You pushed him aside, a weak smile on your lips as Changbin waited for you to answer.

“Let me think about it.”

He nodded, allowing you to leave and head to the car with Hyunjin. As you got into the passenger's seat your mind continued to race with two things. Partly your T.O, but mainly Changbin. 

It was the first time that you had seen an almost human side to him. You weren’t sure what to call it, but it was encasing your mind, taking over all conscious parts of your brain. It was almost impossible to believe that a lawyer, especially a defense lawyer, actually felt bad for asking someone to help him with a case.

“Are you okay?”

Hyunjin snapped you out of deep thought, looking at you while driving to analyze your facial expressions.

“Eyes on the road boot, and yes I’m fine.”

A silence fell over the car, the lack of criminal activity responsible for that.

“Is something going on between you and the lawyer?”

You gave him a look of disgust, finding this a completely inappropriate question to ask a superior officer. Even though it wasn’t a completely ridiculous question to ask, it was obvious to a third party that there was something better. But you knew better than to have your rookie have the upper hand on you, especially when it came to your personal life.

“Why are you running your mouth, boot? You know who he is right?”

“Yes, I,” Hyunjin hesitated, worried that you were upset with him, “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m fine,” you mumbled, adjusting yourself in the rather large seat. When it came to your personal life, especially when it wasn’t great it was easier to be this way. Cold, brash. It also seemed to be the way that Hyunjin learnt how to do things efficiently and easily.

“I’m sorry Y/n, I know I’m overstepping, but I saw the way he looked at you when your appearance changed. Like he really cared for you.”

“Hyunjin I swear to god,” you yelled, immediately getting defensive at his implication. Your tone was harsh, a prompt guilt coming over you as you continued to speak, correcting the tone of what and how you said it.

“He didn’t do anything that bad, and there’s nothing going on in between us.”

You paused again, looking around with the means of refusing any possible contact when talking about this sensitive subject.

“He asked me to testify in a case about my T.O.”

“The one that got arrested?”

“Yeah,” you mumbled, feeling small even talking about it, “wants me to be a character witness for him.”

“That’s so rough, I’m really sorry.”

“Eh it’s not your fault. Enough about me, let’s focus on the road.”

The afternoon of patrol was easy, but your mind floated every once in a while to everything that surrounded Changbin. Hyunjin’s perception, Changbin’s own humane side coming out to comfort you, if you could even call it that. Whatever it was, it was something that you could not get out of your mind. On the contrary, you would never let something as miniscule as a mee defense lawyer get in the way of your high quality police work.

***

Patrol was over too soon, greeted by a smile from Felix once more as you saw him getting out of his shop and walking over to you.

“How was patrol?”

He said nothing, directing his hand to his rookie with one of the biggest drug dealers in the area. Your jaw dropped when you saw this large 6’5 300 pound man in cuffs.

“How on earth did you manage that?”

“He was sleeping,” Felix smirked, “had no idea we were coming. God some criminals are so dumb.”

“Nice work boot,” you nodded, helping him carry the man to be processed.

The processing was the easiest part. Finger prints, photos, and paperwork assessing the individual. Making sure they had no weapons on them; catching the cops was the hardest part. Processing and putting them in a holding cell was the most relaxing part of the job. Even the paperwork was more stressful. 

The guy was being put in his cell, but it wasn't a rude surprise when you saw the man who was on your mind all day show up. He was bolting straight for the cops holding the perp, an agenda in his eyes as your irritation rose, knowing exactly what he was going to do.

“Woah Changbin,” you stepped in, standing between the struggling perp and Changbin, “what are you doing?”

“You need to let go of him, he is being unlawfully detained.”

“And how would you know that?”

“Because my client is under the influence, he does not understand his rights and you cannot keep him.”

Your eyebrows furrowed at his statement. He was dead serious, and there was no way you would stop this guy from being detained. He was well known for a while, and you weren’t going to let Changbin’s antics get in the way of this.

“This man is not showing any substances in his system, he needs to be processed.”

“And like I just said, he doesn’t understand his rights so uncuff him and let him go.”

“How would you know that?”

“Because I was across the street after visiting another client and I saw them put him in the car. He barely said yes when asked if he understood.”

“Okay but he said yes so what’s the problem?”

“Do I have to repeat myself? You’re also using unlawful force on my client.”

“Unlawful force?” you scoffed, “the guy is over 300 pounds.”

The responses were back and forth, way too quickly to react and way too difficult for someone to step in and diffuse the situation. Tempers were running high, and the longer the argument went on, the louder your voices became. Any leniency that you felt prior towards the pompous lawyer was diminished in an instant. Another officer stepped in, attempting to continue to put this man in the holding cell.

“It doesn’t matter, you need to let him out or I will report this as unlawful and you will lose your job immediately.”

“Are you serious? I-”

“What is this ruckus?”

The two of your heads snapped simultaneously once you heard the Sargeants voice.

“We are trying to detain a perp but ‘Mr. fancy pants’ here is obstructing us from doing so.”

“With all do respect sir this is an unlawful arrest I-”

Sargent Bang took another step forward, putting a hand in front to stop Changbin from talking. Due to the significant height difference, the lawyer backed down, clearly intimidated by Chan's demeanor.

“Mr. Seo, do I come to your office and tell you how to argue in court?”

“No,” he replied, an obvious defeat in his tone, “I don’t.”

“Then you need to get the hell out of my officer's face and you can make a claim in my office.”

The lawyer nodded, no words needed to be said as he followed the Sergeant upstairs and you lost your view of him. The beads of sweat were scattered across Felix’s forehead, a huge sigh of relief as he swiped a hand across, happy to have got him in the cell.

“Nice arrest,” you smirked.

“Yeah. Thanks for that.” He smiled back. But you knew better. There was a second look in his eyes, one that had an underlying meaning, another implication if you will, “I wouldn’t have been able to complete it if it wasn’t for you practically barking at him.”

You laughed, hard at his statement.

“That’s not true, and I feel like you need to spit out what you’re thinking.”

A sarcastic look of shock appeared on Felix’s face.

“Me?” he questioned, placing a hand on his chest in surprise shock, “when do I have something ever to say?”

“Spit it out.”

“Fine,” he chuckled, “you held your own, don't get me wrong. It’s just, I can’t help but feel like there’s some tension between you.”

“Tension?”

At first you were confused. Obviously there was tension, the two of you were yelling at each other for five minutes. You were pissed. How dare he try to embarass you in front of your fellow officers. Accuse you of malpractice. You would never do the same in front of his colleagues. It wasn't until you realized what the smolder behind his lips really meant, and it shook you to your core.

“Are you fucking serious?”

“What,” Felix shrugged, mumbling under his breath, “it’s not the first time I’ve noticed it.”

You shook your head, the thought sending you into a head spin. He couldn’t be right. You repulsed the man, despised him on every level. 

Why was your head going straight to this morning, and the interaction before that, and the interaction before that. You had to walk away, space out in your office chair and involuntarily re-analyse every single conversation you had with this damn lawyer. God it was frustrating. Why was he playing so much in your mind? A man of such vulgar and despicable actions was clouding your judgment. It was impossible to do paperwork, concentrate on anything anyone had said. The thought of him, his face, hair, blazer jacket, shirt. That fucking white shirt. Your memory automatically scrolls to that one time the top button was undone. The way his jawline clenched when he took serious phone calls in the precinct. The way he was able to swoon other police officers into getting the information he needed. There was no reason for this, but it was becoming significant that all it took for you to spiral about the pompous lawyer was a gentle nudge in the direction from Felix.

“Hey.”

The voice, the last, yet first, person you actually wanted to even fix your eyes on was talking to you right now. This had to be a joke. It almost made you chuckle at the way he was standing over you at your desk; he probably loved it. Doing anything and everything he could to bring the worst out of you. And if he wasn’t going to apologize right now, he was going to do exactly that. His hand crept into your vision, veiny dorsal hands as his frame got closer and closer, hoping that you would acknowledge his presence, and not the other way round. You could see the look of Felix pretending to gasp at the lack of space between your bodies from the corner of your eye, leaving you even more reluctant to one, fuel your best friend and any other officers point, and two, actually converse with him.

“What do you want, Changbin?”

Your tone sounded very unenthusiastic, mouth, or throat, not having the energy to entertain the nonsense that was about to spew out of his mouth.

“I need an answer about testifying, for the other trial.”

“When do you need the answer?”

“Today at the end of shift.”

“Well then you’ll get my answer then.”

He moved away, running a frustrated hand through his hair at your stubbornness and unwillingness to cooperate. 

“Can’t you just give me an answer now?”

“Hmm,” you stood up, clasping your finger upon your chin, looking ‘very’ deep in thought, after the way he just treated you, attempting to embarrass you, it wasn’t really in your mind to treat him with any care, “I just don’t feel like giving you an answer right now.” 

“What the fuck is your problem?”

“My problem?” you raised your voice, smacking your hand down on the desk, causing the surrounding officers and personnel to stare straight on.

“What the fuck is my problem,” you took a step closer, aiming to get into the lawyers face, “You have the problem, not me.”

The bickering was at an all time high today. This was normal. Changbin used to find at least one officer to argue with, but the intensity of your heated discussions with him were always ten fold in comparison. Voices were always raised to a peak, fingers gripped in fists, it was practically a show for the precinct, and the officers looked every time; sometimes they were sad because the only thing missing was their popcorn. 

The tension in this moment was high, but nothing you didn’t experience every single time this douchebag flashed his face in your place of work. Your eyes widened when you saw Sargent Bang standing behind Changbin from a distance, teeth gritted to end the conversation now, or there would be consequences for your actions. You gripped Changbin’s arm, dragging him around the corner, in front of the low-level weaponry kit room. The only people that walked past that part of the precinct in the middle of the day were police chiefs, and their visit was once a month; today was not that day.

“This is unlawful force on a civilian-”

“Shut up,” you interrupted, whispering as you finally let him go once you were out of frame from the others, “I don't want to make more of a scene and you are not going to be the reason I get fired.”

He scoffed at your remark, finding a sarcastic humor in it. He adjusted his suit jacket once more, patting down his suit and making sure he looked perfect as always. A single strand was out of place across his forehead, and you couldn’t lie, it was pretty adorable. Seeing him out of place in the slightest was like goosebumps on your skin. 

“Well it wouldn’t be a problem if you just answered my question.”

The shrug he gave made you want to kick him in the knees. Hands on your hips, you stood there, waiting for him to actually pay attention to what you had to say.

“Look,” he whispered, facial expression of friendlessness back, “I know this must be hard for you.”

He paused, wanting to sense your reaction. Your muscles related to posture softened, eyes avoiding his gaze, yet feeling the need to guard yourself suddenly unnecessary. Conversing with Changbin was like having a concussion, sometimes painful, sometimes blissful, but you couldn’t lie and stay in denial that there was meaning behind this. A gravitational pull that rushed your towards him, and the gentle moments where showed his non-demonic angle was poking out and taunting you made the force greater each time. The sprinkles of generosity he showcased were something that you ate up everytime, and you hated it.

“It’s not that I don’t want to testify, because knowing you, I will be subpoenaed into doing it anyway.”

“No,” he interrupted himself with a laugh, “wait yeah actually I probably would.”

“Yeah that would piss me off, but I understand you would be doing your job. I guess I am somewhat appreciative that you gave me a heads up on it.”

He nodded, taking your mumbled graciousness as a win. 

“What do you need me to do?”

He said nothing at first, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the small card with his business, name, phone number and address to said business on it.

“Are you busy tonight after work?”

You followed through, fingers accidentally brushing fingertips with him when accepting the card. The two of you ignored the pull acting up once more. For some reason it felt better to not point it out. You shook your head in response, a small smile filling his lips as he was happy that he didn’t have to fight to get an answer he wanted.

“Great, swing past when you’re done here and we can move forward in your portion of the case.”

No reply was needed as he walked in a separate direction from yours, brain spinning once more as you sat down at your desk. It didn’t take long for your best friend to creep up on you and your rookie’s shared desk. An unwipeable smirk plastered his face as the two of them planned to gang up on you. Unfortunately for them, their plan was spotted from a mile away.

“I don’t want to hear it,” you smoldered, raising a hand to both of their faces in an attempt to silence them.

“I’m not saying anything,” Felix fanned himself as he spoke, “but the tension is hot hot hot.”

“Yeah I could feel it from-”

“Hyunjin, if you say one more word that contributes to this conversation I will write you up. Don’t forget I do daily evaluations on you.”

Hyunjin shrank back into his seat, a small ‘yes ma'am’ before he was back to focusing on his paperwork.

“He’s so into you it’s crazy.”

A small energy of satisfaction sparked through your body at his words. It had to be a joke. Why was a small part of you excited if that was the case?

“He’s not into me,” you brushed off, a smile threatening to spill across your face, “I have to testify as a character witness in the trial for my T.O”

“He’s representing them?”

“A check is a check, and I hate to admit it, but Changbin is one of the best criminal defense lawyers in this country.”

You got up, checking your watch and realizing that there wasn’t long until you had to head over. Yes it was a bit early, but what was the harm in going home, showering, fixing your hair, putting on some makeup and getting out of uniform?

“Hey,” Felix yelled, grabbing you by the arm to stop you from leaving for the day, “where are you going?”

“I’m going to Changbin’s office to get this over and done with. Don’t say anything, I’m just going to prepare for court and that’s it.”

“Mhm,” he nodded, not knowing it was possible for an action to be so sarcastic, “I’m sure it is.”

A frustrated scoff left your lips as you continued to go to the door. Felix was wrong, and you were determined to prove that his implications were false and just simply not the case at all. But not even you could convince yourself that Felix is wrong. Part of you didnt want him to be wrong, but the other part of you just wanted this to be in your past, and getting over and done with seemed like the first step in doing so.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

“That isn’t much!”

**

You took a deep breath as your car parked. One more look at your appearance in the rearview mirror and you were good to go. You kept your outfit simple, jeans and a thin white long sleeve shirt with a small black leather jacket to accompany and counter the recent cold weather. Your hair was down, natural. The intention behind it was that it was a change. A calming nature and contrast to what he usually saw when at the precinct. The normal was hair slicked back in a bun as it was protocol to make sure all hair was out of your face, definitely not wanting your hair to obstruct any view while in pursuit.

The door was large, revolving, leaving you almost caught in between. The area was spacious, impressive, and looked like a big firm. You knew the other lawyers there, but not well enough to know by name. None of them were as much of a hassle as Changbin was. The guy at the reception looked concentrated yet approachable, giving you no trouble as his attention turned to you once your approach at the desk was certain.

“Hi, how are you today?”

“I’m great thanks,” you smiled, a sudden streak of nerves enticing your body, “I’m here for an appointment with Mr. Seo.”

It took a few clicks on his computer before he realized who you were.

“Ah, you must be officer Y/l/n. You really do a number on lawyer Seo hey?”

Your eyebrows furrowed in a polite way, “I do?”

“Every time he comes back from the station, and he’s spoken to you, it’s all he talks about.”

“And I’m going to fire you for saying false information like that.”

Your head snapped at his voice, smooth as honey, and fake, when talking to the receptionist. He shrugged, chuckling because he knew that Changbin had been completely caught; but he was too swift, and stubborn, to admit that it was true. His eyes, as per usual, were fixated up and down, moving back and forth as they glued to your figure, an extra second spent too long before he made eye contact with you. Changbin put a hand out, in invitation to lead you down the rather long hallway to his office. The room was nice. Marble desk, swirly chair, off white walls; if you ever had your own office, you would want it to look exactly like this. 

Changbin closed the door behind you, showing you to your chair as he stood behind it, patiently waiting for you to sit down. He lingered behind, thumbs grazing the clothed skin of your shoulder as he looked down over your head while taking your jacket off and pacing it behind your chair, easy access to your chest. You rolled your eyes; perv. His proximity made you nervous, and you didn’t know why, but that familiar gravitational pull was something you very much liked to deny from a cognitive perspective.

“So Ms. y/l/n, y/n, can I call you that?”

“Sure,” you replied sarcastically, looking down at your fingers, fidgeting as you became more restless the longer he took to reply, forcing the two of you to sit in silence. God this was uncomfortable. Why was he dragging this out? Every second was torture for you. This was supposed to be one and done. Go to court and never have to work with this prick or to never see your T.O again. If anything it was making you angry. He knew that this was painful for you, yet he refused to move ahead.

“Can we start?”

“Yes of course,” he nodded, maintaining a serious facial expression as he opened up his notebook on his desk, “do you have any questions before we start?”

“How long is this going to take?”

“As long as necessary.”

He paused, again, seeming to be for dramatic effect, “Is that going to be a problem?”

“No,” you gulped, the sound of his pen clicking immediately making you anxious, “of course not.”

Your replies to the next few questions were short, but not abnormal as they were very closed ended questions. Changbin fixed his posture every few seconds, forearms flexing through his shirt while writing down his notes. It was somewhat frustrating that you had to multitask on so many things at once. His questions, making sure you were giving correct information. The way he rolled his sleeves up to his elbows to free up his caged arms. The veins. His lips. The deep voice coming out. Recalling events. To say you were getting overwhelmed was an understatement. He noticed your change in demeanor as soon as he freed himself, and for once in naivety, the emotion he felt was concern. He put the pen down, noticing that you needed a break from the lack of eye contact you were giving him. Although he hated your guts for most of the time, he didn’t want you to perceive him as a monster. It was sensitive stuff; everyone has a special relationship with a T.O. They show you the rope of everything, and they are there for you after intense crime scenes. The partnership was sensitive, and for it to blow up in your face was a shock to the system. He knew better than to rub salt in the seeping wound.

“We can take a break if you want. Can I get you anything?”

Your head snapped back up, a fake smile plastered on your face in an attempt to be polite and hide the discomfort that was going over the case with a comb, as well as the shock from his failure to make fun of you for once.

“Water and a break would be great.”

Changbin nodded, getting up from his seat and walking over to the water cooler in his office. Neat, but definitely obnoxious and just a ruse to show off how much money he made. And to think you were giving him the benefit of the doubt. Your impatience, and frustration was growing with each moment. Placing the water cup in front of you, he resumed his seat, taking a nice long sip of his cool refreshment.

“Right, where were we?”

His eyebrows furrowed, a sign of concentration as he thought about his next line of questioning.

“How many more things do we need to go over?”

He smirked, “already keen to get out of here?”

“Well,” you scoffed, “it’s kind of something that I want to get over and done with.”

His jaw clenched, “well it’s not that simple.”

“Yeah I know that I-”

“I don’t think you do. See, it’s my duty to give him the best possible case as he is paying me big bucks to get him the best outcome possible.”

“Yeah we know how much you love money,” you mumbled under your breath.

“What was that?”

“No nothing,” you shook your head vigorously, “well no not nothing. I just said we know how much you love money, you can’t help but always flaunt it at the station.”

He chuckled at your sarcastic yet honest response.

“Let’s just continue so we can get this over with.”

A pit of relief panged in your chest at his words, Changbin now finally has the same mentality as you. His phone rang, but he denied, quickly, shocking you in disbelief. He noticed your change in appearance, unsure why you reacted the way you did.

“What’s that look?”

“No nothing, you just, I’ve never seen you decline a phone call before.”

He smirked, nothing else.

“What can I say? You’re a special client.”

“I am?”

He immediately regretted the implications of those words. He really should have thought before he spoke, because the sentiment went straight to your head. Your ears felt hot, and suddenly the gravitational pull was very much noticeable again. You shifted in your seat, leaning forward; why not have some fun with it? Maybe it would ease the uncomfort you were experiencing. The white top you wore was low cut, something that you failed to mention, and remember, but sparked your memory once Changbin’s eyes dropped immediately. All you were doing was leaning forward, grabbing your cup, and sloppily drinking, a few droplets ‘accidentally’ falling onto your shirt. The white material helped you push your rebellion across, which ultimately did the complete opposite for him. He was now the one shifting in his seat, comfort somewhat observable as it was his turn to avoid your gaze.

“Ok so were you part of the drug trafficking ring?”

The smug expression on your face dropped instantly.

“Obviously not.”

“Well how is it obvious?”

“Through the evidence?”

“The evidence,” he paused, smug in his own arrogance, “is not in your favor. You know he has tried to pin a lot of it on you, right?”

His words triggered something in you; something ugly. You got up out of your seat, walking around and standing over him. How dare he say that? Even if he was just saying it to get your reaction, it was, for you, crossing the line.

“That’s why I’m not the one who got arrested. What are you trying to imply?”

He turned in his chair, legs spread open in the biggest manspread known to man as he continued to smirk. Fuck, you should be mad. You should be fuming at his accusations, smugness, cockiness. What was he trying to imply? Changbin tricked you into thinking that you would be a character witness. Silly you for thinking he actually was capable of caring for you, making sure you didn't get thrown under the bus when persecuted.

“Nothing?,” he scoffed, feigning ignorance laced in his tone, “What’s your problem?”

Your laugh was loud, indicating that your frustration had reached its boiling point. That fucking question again.

 “My problem? What is yours? You walk into the precinct, act like you know everything and treat the officers with little to no respect, then you obstruct a detainment? What makes you think you are so entitled that you can just talk to everyone the way you want? And to top it off, you want to switch the charges and pin me, a rookie at the time, for the crimes committed?”

Your breath was raised high, out of breath from the absolute serving Seo Changbin just got from you. A huge weight lifted off of your chest, finally getting what had been lying on your chest for years off of it. He got up and walked around his desk and stood in front of you, very much in your personal space; with an unimpressed look to say the least. How dare you question his practice, his ability to prosecute and defend as a lawyer. It was, in his eyes, this most abhorrent thing a person could do, especially an authority figure of similar position. You were, however, too stubborn to back down, chest puffed and fists pumped up, nails digging into your palms to prevent yourself from doing something you would regret.

“You think you know me so well huh?”

“I think I do.”

“If you did then you would know I’m not trying to get you convicted. I’m doing the opposite?”

Yeah right.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Of course I don’t want you to be a part of this, I want you to be as far away.”

“Why would you say something like that then? Accusine me? Do you just never think before you speak?”

The pompous lawyer didn’t answer straight away. The continuous cycle of confusion, anger, lust on repeat was sending you into a headspin. You couldn't keep up, but at the time, you were beginning to find the root of the reason you felt that cursed gravitational pull towards the man in front of you. As soon as his voice softened, so did you. Digits by your sides as opposed to dug in your palms, shoulders relaxed. Changbin was also standing very close to you. It was the first time you truly were able to take in his features. Thick, slicked up hair, tiny strands that had obviously been styled in a certain way that trickled over his forehead. The textureless surface area of his skin, the darkness of his eyes, you could have sworn his pupils were dilated, the color becoming darker and darker the longer he looked at you. His lips were in a whole different ball game. Very pink, very big, the hyperfixation was instant. Your eyes flicked between his lips and his own gaze, leaving you completely unsure where to look. 

“I,” he sighed, pausing before making sure what he said came out the right way, “I don’t want you to get hurt. Fuck,” he paused again covering his face with his hands for a brief moment before standing even closer to you, “I want to make sure you’re okay and you don’t get caught in the crossfire.”

The atmosphere of the room had suddenly changed again, and now, you could not keep your eyes off of the pompous lawyer. He was pulling you in this time, hard, but contrary to the other times you experienced a similar sensation, you were finding it really difficult to find a way out.

“So rather than criticizing me, help me. Help me get through this how you would if you were me.”

The telekinesis was impactful, and no scientific theory or rationale could explain what followed, because the next thing you remembered was Changbin’s grip on your hips, pushing you forcefully to sit on the edge of his desk as he leaned forward and crashed his lips against yours. The energy was magnetic, and the normal part of you was saying what is happening right now, you should pull away, and you had the thought to do so.

But it’s merely a thought that flies into your consciousness then back into the unconsciousness. His lips felt too good, hands now gripping your face as his tongue entered your mouth. The kiss was slow, the intention to envelop him, take in as much as possible. His movements were delicate, yet simultaneously precise as his hands traveled to your behind, grabbing as much ass as possible, breaking away before whispering a quick ‘wrap your legs around me’ and lifting you up, pinning you against the back of his office door. It did slip in your mind for a brief moment that you were in a public setting and not the luxury of your home. It was just that however, like the others, a passing thought as his hips pinned you against the wooden frame, fingertips soothingly soaring against the sides of your torso as he lips left your own, littering across your jaw, up to your ear lobe, a thick stripe of the pomppus lawyer’s DNA coating the skin from the base of your neck to the tip of your ear lobe. There was nothing organized about the movements that occurred, partly because the navigation was unclear and he wasn’t a usual partner. But the main rationale was the increasing desperation that filled the tiny, gaping air that was closed each moment your lips moved in unison. As soon as his hands gripped your body, traveling down your sides and back to your ass; god he loved your ass. 

Whether he would admit it or not, his mind went crazy everytime you walked away from him, mad or not. Conversation or no interaction at all. Changbin always wanted to see it, feel it, the texture of how the skin would feel in his hands, clothed or unclothed; he didn’t give a fuck. Changbin was grateful if there was any time in his life that he would get to experience it, and it was blowing his mind that it was happening. But, in the grace of it all, he was too stubborn, as per usual, to show that he wasn’t freaking out that this was actually happening. He wanted to be cool in front of you. He would rather get hit by a bus than admit that the feelings he had for you were something that were there every time he laid his eyes on you.

You could feel the subtle hard on across your groin, a gentle gasp escaping your lips and falling into his mouth as he acknowledged your reaction, gently grinding his hips against you, the friction only making your hornier as he pulled away, your hands leaching onto the buckle of his pants, the desperation clouding your efficacy to take it off in one swift motion. Changbin chuckled as he pulled away, unable to smirk as he was too desperate to worry about the lack of skill. His pants were off, and now it was your turn for a piece of clothing to be removed; and he wasn’t swift either. 

Fuck buttons and belts, buckles, zippers, anything that was put on clothes which, for you to in this moment, seemed to only be put onto clothing to makes things more difficult. Changbin was able to undo the zipper and button on your jeans, helping the thick material pool at your ankles before he dropped to his knees for a brief moment to lift your ankles to help you discard them completely. Both pairs of bottoms were in a pile on the floor mixed together, maybe a metaphor for what was about to happen. Changbin’s jacket was easy to take off, and he cared too little to be meticulous with a basic white dress shirt, biceps bugling barely as he effortlessly ripped his shirt, the noise of the buttons hitting the hard surfaces of the office, leaving him in nothing but his boxers. His chest was heavy, pecs already 4 dimensional on his chest but Changbin needed no time as he was just too fucking hungry for you. Yearning, lusting, you name it. Changbin being out of breath was such a barrier to pick you up again, your back now lying against the contrasting cool surface of the marble desk as he hovered over you, another sensual kiss against your lips as his trails extended. 

“Fuck,” he growled, primal like, “you have too many fucking clothes on.”

An annoyed sigh left your lips, “well that’s not my fault is it.”

He ignored your attitude. Changbin wanted to just rip it off, but he knew better than to let you leave with the clothing you did not come in with. His hands were now swift, wanting to focus on nothing else but your naked body. Changbin bit down on his bottom lip when he noticed your lack of chest undergarment. 

“Did you do that on purpose?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Jesus,” he paused, an extended trail of kisses descending down your body, past your neck, lingering on your chest, a quick flick of the nipples with his tongue that involuntarily made your back arch as he continued, eyebrows furrowed with concentration as he got to your panties. Your breath hitched a little when he got there, teeth teetering on the edge as he pulled them down, legs straight and the gentle bumpy texture of his teeth dancing across your legs as he finally got off the last obstacle of clothing. Changbin couldn’t help but bring a hand to his length as he gently palmed himself, completely mesmerized and aroused out of control at the current view he was looking at you. The temperature of your face was immediately as his eyes ogled over your very naked body. Fuck. It was so hot to see him like this. Speechless, no comebacks. You could tell that he wasn’t thinking much, which oddly turned you on so much. It was something you truly were not used to. 

“Stand up for me.”

The four words came out of mouth abruptly, switching positions as he sat down, practically drooling as your ass moved with each step, titties bouncing in unison with each movement. All he could think about was how hard they bounced if you were on top of him. How easily he’d be able to move his hands with your ass as you rode him, took him from behind. His mind was racing even more, and now he was back at square one: too overwhelmed and much too aroused to form a comprehensive thought of what to do to you.

“You’re so different.” you whispered, not wanting to catch him off guard.

“I am?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, heavy, hands beginning to roam across your waist, breathing through slightly gritted teeth, “usually you have so much to say.”

His gaze was so lustful, heavy, you couldn’t help but touch yourself. Your fingers attached to your left hand traced along your inner thigh, legs gently shuddering. If you were being honest, it kind of scared you how much something as simple as a stare could do to you. Your index and middle finger traced along your pussy lips, a desperate moan escaping your lips when the tip of your digit accidentally brushed the bareity of your clit. You thought you could handle the game; you usually did. But this was the straw that broke the camel’s back, and there was no going back after this.

Changbin was also desperate, scrolling forward on his chair and reaching for your hips, steadying himself before his palms separated. One had pitching your left nipple and the other sliding on either side of your core, pussy lips trying to escape his digits. It was easy for him, seeing as your core was already a slip n’ slide, fingers practically begging and soaking up any sense of friction they could get.

“Stop teasing,” you gritted, small hitches in your wind at each possible moment of touch.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, adjusting his fingers without warning, tips attaching to the nub like a magnetic force. A much larger, breathier moan falls from the tight crevice that is your lips as Changbin gets closer to your torso, mouth latching onto the previously excluded nipple. The lawyer execution wasn’t perfect, and if this was the third or fourth time the two of you had been intimate, it most likely wouldn’t have felt as good.

At that stage, however, things were different. The tension from the lack of physical intimacy was the sole reason his fingers felt so good. This may, in the present moment be due to the short circuiting of your brain from the man’s fingers and lips, feel like something that just sparked out of the blue. Random. Out of nowhere; but anyone could tell that that was nothing but a crock of shit.

This was a culmination of all the times you disagreed, agreed, yelled, whispered, cared, lusted, hated, liked, loved? Even the way you looked at him when he would walk into that precinct with his very tight suits and heavy briefcases. The times Felix would nudge you to keep it down when the two of you would argue in front of the other officers, even the sergeant. The more you argued, the more care there was, even if it was illustrated as hatred. The opposite of hatred is indifference, not love, and there was nothing indifferent about the situation you found yourself to be in. 

Changbin couldn’t think straight. There were times he thought about it too. Whether it was when he woke up in the morning, preparing a case of a perpetrator that you arrested. He felt like an idiot, because all he wanted to do now was touch you. There was no instruction, no structure to how he was doing it, just rubbing your clit and sucking on your nipples, teething the hardened nubs was the way to go. Changbin thought he would have so much more composure, but the moment your clothes were discarded was the moment he knew he was in trouble, because the images he visualized in his head were not even closer than how sexy he imagined you to be.

“Mhmmm,” you hummed, hips forming a gentle rhythm on his digits, your own hand running up and down his arm soothingly, “feels so good.”

“Yeah you like it?”

“Yes I-oh my god.”

You interrupted your own sentence when you found two of his fingers at your entrance. Slow, calloused textured fingers scratching your walls as he began to pump. He stood up simultaneously, slightly bent over to make sure that his fingers would remain consistent in depth while adjusting to the height difference. His thumb that belonged to the same hand reamiend on then sensitive numb, the three fingers creating a collective come hither motion. You took a few steps back, finding stability in the wooden cabinet behind you as Changbin’s fingers picked up in pace. He was still a cognitive mess, no craft to his skill, but it seemed to be more than fine for you. He analyzed your behavior. Lids fluttering on the brink of shutting, jaw slightly agape with sinful moans and groans disclosed, and your left hand groping your own breast.

On the contrary, you were just as overwhelmed, unable to speak, those unorganized noises the only indication of how his fingers were making you feel. Fuck, you were already so sensitive, and the fact that he was already hitting the fleshy mound inside your pussy with his fingers only aroused you tenfold, knowing that his cock would be just as effortless in doing so. Your eyes wanted to roll, reach the back of your head. You never knew that something so simple as someone’s fingers could make you feel this good. Your hips spasmed, walls already clenching around him as you knew that you were getting close.

“Shit,” Changbin groaned, that god awful yet fucking sexy smirk appearing, “you’re close, aren’t you?”

“No,” you mumbled, not wanting him to give you the satisfaction of knowing he made you feel like pure heaven, “b-barely.”

You could feel his hard on pressed against the top of our leg, itching at your hip bone which gave you the idea to take the heat off of you for a moment. Yes, it was like walking into the gates of hell to give him the gratification that he was bringing you to orgasm, but really, it was because you didn’t want it to stop. If you could have just stopped lying to yourself about how much arguing with this man turned you on, that you could have been in this predicament much earlier. Then again, maybe if it did happen earlier, the arousal of his simple touch wouldn’t impact you as much, and that would be no fun, would it? 

Your hands, for the first time tonight, began to travel, snaking past his arms and right to where he wanted you. Changbin hissed, lips pressed against the side of your face as a deep groan bellowed from his chest.

“Fuck,” he hissed, the gentle grating of your hand against his clothed crotch taking him by surprise. You too, were in surprise at how big he felt. The visual was one thing, but you were always one for tactile senses. Your thumb slipped over the tip, the brief wetness that you assumed to be his precum easily felt. The muscles in your legs were getting tighter and tighter, and it was proving that rubbing Changbin’s cock wasnt enough to distract him from making you cum.

“Fuck I’m really c-close,” you whine, the pompous lawyer covering your mouth to prevent the crescendo of your voice project outside the 4 walls. He withdrew his fingers from your words, your bodies falling slightly limp and weary at the way you already were craving him, orgasm that was on the brim very cruel. Your hips were gripped once more, placing you to sit atop of his desk and he made no hesitation to slip his boxers off and let his cock spring free of what, to him, was torture. A very obvious gas came from your lips, still taken aback of how girthy he was. A nervous gulp followed, unsure if he would be able to fit. He could see the expression of concern. His hands cupped your cheeks, pressing another gentle kiss before they traveled back to his favorite spot, your hips.

“It’s ok,” he whispered, running his thumbs in a forgiving fashion against your hip bones, “just tell me to stop if you want to. I won’t be mad.”

You looked shyly into his eyes, nodding as you grabbed him by the base of his cock. A deep breath hollowed from hips at how your hands felt on him. God he had dreamed of this so many times. He would fixate on them every time he walked into the precinct. How such delicate hands could do such filthy things; it truly turned him on so much. The complexity of your character did too. You weren’t like other people that he had the pleasure of interacting with. No book that you could read by its cover. It was impossible, but maybe that's why he felt so drawn to you. He liked a challenge. He was a lawyer after all, and as much as he fantasized, unconsciously, about how you would look in such sinful positions, he was still able to simultaneously appreciate you and your character from afar, even when his presence wasn’t always appreciated by you in return. 

“Your hands,” he chuckled, almost sounding nervous, “they feel so good.”

It was finally YOUR turn to smirk, getting him where you wanted him. Although you liked to do nothing more than torture him, a guilt would rise in your chest and you know it. By this point, it was obvious that both of you pined for each other, so the games of taunting and teasing, mind fucking were irrelevant, unnecessary. The main thing that you wanted was to get your brains fucked out, and Changbin wanted nothing more than to give that to you. You took your hand away, allowing the man himself to line up with your hole, before gently prodding at the entrance, effortlessly and to your surprise plunging his cock into your pussy. It was a loud noise, the squelch of your highly aroused cunt leaving the pompous lawyer's cock sucked in like a vacuum. Your arms, without thought, wrapped around Changbin’s neck, pulling him closer to truly feel as much of him as you could. 

“Jesus fuck,’ he chuckled, beinging to pull out slowly, “this is the juiciest pussy I’ve ever fucked.”

The sentence made you moan, hips wiggling to keep as much of his length inside of you as he gently moved back and forth. If anyone else spoke like this to you, the next action would most likely be a slap in the face. Compliment or not, it was so hot the way Changbin’s words fell from his lips without thought. Even when the two of you shared heated discussions it was the same. Words, harsh, soft, anything he said was without thought. But this moment was when you liked it best, because as he continued to pull in and out of you, the corrupt compliments just continued to spell out, belongings beginning to fall off his desk with each thrust. It was usually something you hated, but maybe now, you could manipulate it to your own benefit.

“Jesus christ,” he continued to repeat over and over, hands gripping your ass as he used your body to grind into you, “I love how wet your pussy is for me.”

“Me too baby,” you moaned back, unable to help yourself, “I never knew it could get this wet.”

“Only for me,” he growled, partly out of breath, “this pussy belongs to me.”

There was no point in even refuting what he said. If he was going to make it scream like this every time he was near it from now on, he can have it. No one had ever made you feel this good. Electricity was flying the longer his skin made contact with yours. Maybe it was partly hallucinations from your sex brain, but you didn't care, nothing would ever equate to this, and no one could ever have such a pull on you than the man in front of you. Changbin had acquired some confidence, because he began to move with much vigor, cock feeling harder and harder the longer he was inside of you. It didn’t take long for him to find the previous spot that he was able to hit with his fingers, your eyes almost popping out of your head when he did, your own hand coming to your mouth and biting on your fingernails as he did, a poor attempt to suppress the roaring sounds that cut down from your lips, surely enough to alert whoever else was in the building. It took him a matter of milliseconds for him to notice, a hand leaving your body and clasping your wrist, forcing you to straighten your fingers as he pushed them inside your mouth. It was now his turn for his eyes to bulge out of his head, a whole new level of turned on as he watched each knuckle on the two of your fingers disappearing past your lips. He stood still, forgetting about his cock and fixating on nothing but the way your fingers were coated heavily from such a simple action

“Fuck me,” he scoffed, “I didn’t think you could get any sexier.”

Your eyes ogled as you looked up at him, lips forming into a pour around your tips as they withdrew from your mouth. Before you even had the chance, Changbin was already redirecting your fingers to your own core, spreading your pussy lips far as your fingers dragged to them, a teeth gritted sigh coming from the pompous lawyer as he picked up his pace. All he could do was stare, solely focused on how your center got wetter and wetter. The way your pussy hole was now clenching and double the pleasure from tow spots. Fuck, he didn’t care about his own pleasure, because all he could think was how magical your pussy was. 

You were so hot and bothered by the way Changbin’s mouth dropped when he watched you flick your own clit, fingers brushing the base of cock once every few thursts as he continued to fuck you out of your mind relentlessly. 

“Oh god,” you whined, not even caring about how loud the combination of sounds must have been to one walking by, “so fucking good.”

“I fucking bet,” he chuckled, tongue slipping over his tongue lip, “if you’re pussy keeps getting wetter I won’t be able to help myself.”

“Fuck, what do you mean?”

He suddenly picks up his pace to an all time speed, unable to control himself physically and verbally.

“I’ll have no choice,” he grunts, using all of his might to bury his cock inside of you, “I’ll have to cum in you.”

Oh no. This is bad. Changbin doesn’t know this, but he's unlocked one of your deepest rooted desires. You immediately attack his lips as soon as his sentence concludes, not wanting him to say anything else. You knew it was bad, but there is no way you would ever say no to letting him fill you to the brim.

“Do it,” you whispered, forehead meeting as your gaze fixed on him, “cum in me.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes baby, fill me up with your load.”

“Oh fuck,” he wined, his first high pitch of the night, “whatever you want.”

Your hips inched off his desk, giving him easier access to control you, giving yourself up to him in every way possible. Holy fuck were you about to bust yourself at any minute. Seeing the longing want and need to finish in you being an option was driving him wild.

“Oh my god Y/n,” he whispered, “I can’t hold it back any longer.”

“That’s okay baby just do it.”

“Do it?”

“Cum in me,” you whined, “I know you filling me up will make me cum so hard.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah baby do it.”

“I’ll cum in you.”

“Yeah cum in me.”

The back and forth with no room to breath in between was spilling you over the edge, and so was it for Changbin. His face was contorting more and more with each second, knowing he was going to blow his load any minute.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum,” he continued to whine, unable to look anywhere else except your gaze before finally reach his high, pulling himself out completely except for tip, able to watch the way each load blew straight into your pussy. A heavy breath filled your lungs as the warmth of his seed tipped over the edge, hips bucking uncontrollably as it dribbled out, Changbin also spasming before gently pushing himself back in, the two of you using each other to ride out the peak of your orgasms. 

Your chest heaved simultaneously, the sounds of such heavy breaths the only noise filling the room as he pulled out, the motion causing you to whimper and already crave his touch once again. Changbin looked around, finding the box of tissues that fell off of his desk in the midst of things, cleaning the trail of his remains that was currently spilling down your leg. A small giggle erupted from your lips as you watched his aim with such delicacy and poise.

“What?” He smiled.

“Nothing,” you smiled in return, his grin becoming infectious, “I’ve just never seen you move so carefully before.”

“Hey I can be gentle!”

“Can you though?”

You pointed at your hips, already discolored in light shades of purple. He ignored your gesture, rolling his eyes as he grabbed the pile of clothes that was once an obstacle, handing it back with much of a haste. 

“We still have to work on the case, you know.”

“We can’t make another appointment?”

“Well no because I think 85% of the office would have heard that and it would look very suspicious if you just left.”

“I don’t think it matter if they heard, they’re still gonna know we fucked.”

“Jesus christ y/n,” he scoffed, “don’t fucking start with me now.”

“What?”

“You’re driving me crazy.”

“How?”

“The more you argue with me, the more I want to fuck you over and over again.”

[kaikoikei]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝕮𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐘 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐌𝐘 𝕿𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐘

(⠀free gdoc template⠀)

⠀⠀another⠀BLACK BUTLER THEMED⠀single-muse template — minimal palette of black & white. six pages accompanied with visuals belonging to the manga; misery of a debt unpaid and the sort of thing from your nightmares. people back from the dead to haunt you and stir your guilt like a pot of honey, the sweetness overwhelms you. easy to use — can fit 3000~ words ( 22200~ characters ). ⠀⠀MEMORIES⠀are easily forgotten⠀. . .⠀based on the past and encouraged by the future.

⠀⠀⠀⠀𝐂𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 !

⠀﹙ ✦ ﹚⠀any image featuring a gradient is a drawing, which you can customise to your liking by replacing the backing image with whatever visual you like ! ⠀﹙ ✦ ﹚⠀careful with how much you type as the foundation of most of the sections for writing are tables, so forewarning before you go experimenting how much you can put into it. ⠀﹙ ✦ ﹚⠀some main images are beneath text meaning you can't select them if you click on a table above it, try right-clicking above the image and selecting it on the pop-up—most, if not all, pngs are above text.

⠀⠀⠀⠀𝐔𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐄 !

⠀⠀DO NOT REMOVE CREDIT⠀the main credit source is a small four-pointed star ( ✦ ) either in the header of footer of the first page of my docs. ⠀⠀TO COPY⠀—⠀file > make a copy ⠀⠀TO COPYLOCK⠀—⠀share > settings icon ( ⚙ ) > uncheck "Viewers and commenters can see the option to download, print, and copy"

﹙ ! ﹚⠀all the art⠀used in the doc belongs to yana toboso's Black Butler. ﹙ ❤ ﹚⠀feel free to like & or reblog

[nexility-sims]

SIM DONATION DRIVE: "1992" EDITION

i need to fill in leonor's 1990s dating history for story reasons, so i am soliciting sims from you wonderful, talented, generous people. if you'd like to donate someone, check out THIS FORM ♥️

for guidelines, see below, & let me know if you have questions !

i want to fill in leonor's dating history for the period from roughly 1993 to 1998. i'd like to have these exes attend her big, giant, extravagant wedding in 2001; i will be doing some Yet To Be Planned media coverage of said dating history (something like this stuff). as a treat, because i love to take pictures of other people's sims, i'll probably do some random photoshoots like these as well :^) [you can have leonor's files for your own purposes, if you so desire.]

i have no idea how many sims y'all're gonna donate or if they'll all be the same level of compatible, so: i'll try to incorporate as many as i can but, realistically, would have to choose if there are more than 5-6 options. this isn't a bachelorette challenge, so it would theoretically be based on which characters make sense for leonor and the timeline.

not all of the form's questions are required, but more detail is welcome ! entirely up to you how much fleshing out you'd like to do beyond the basics. i provided vague prompts, some which are optional, so ... go wild or don't ! if you want to discuss any of it before you submit the form (or after), then please don't hesitate to reach out.

your sims can be from uspana or somewhere else, btw. if they're not from uspana, they might be from the fictional country your story is set in, generic Simerica™, literally anywhere else ... if you don't state it, i'll just make something up that feels convenient sdjhfs they can be existing characters or new ones you create for this purpose; it's all up to you !

i am assuming you're familiar with the spinoff story OR leonor as a character, in some way or shape or form. you may know the story better than i do or have scrolled her tag on my blog earlier today for the very first time or somewhere in between. either way ... a little familiarity would help, i imagine !

leonor's existing love interests include: arturo, a very sweet and thoughtful son-of-a-politician (circa 1986-1990); renzo, a very famous actor who loves music and cutoff shorts and doing drugs (1991-1992); andre, a very happily married and painfully shy father of three who also happens to currently be his country's king (1992, 2016–); dan, a very chill tech founder who enjoys, like, space travel and wearing fanny packs and letting his wife do affairs and stuff, whom she marries in 2001 (circa 1998–).

leonor doesn't have a type, and there are no gender restrictions. she likes people who are interesting—peculiar, even. she's a wealthy princess and a government employee by 1993-1994, so that may affect either your sim's occupation and / or the necessity of a "how'd they meet" backstory. her birth year is 1970, and she’s more likely to go for agemates or older rather than younger people (at least while in her twenties, anyway). she could theoretically reconnect with anyone post-2001 but pre-2016 on account of the open marriage, although that feels unlikely / case-by-case.

okay, that's all i got for now ... thanks for reading this far !

[dawns-beauty]

Upcoming Update: Lunar Lattice Tweaks Full Release

Helloooo Ohmes-Raht enjoyers!

First off, HUGE thanks to @littlemissf for helping me fix a lot of issues I was struggling with, and for being super nice and patient with me! I would not have done the full version without you!

Secondly, this mod will not work automatically with current Lunar Lattice characters. With a little effort, I have been able to update some presets. I had been considering writing a tutorial on how to port your old character heads, but ehhhh...

Anyways, what's new?

All old .tri files have been replaced with their appropriate HPH versions: this will fix crashes, issues with sliders, etc. They will no longer have a truly unique morph, however, though original-look presets can be converted

No longer based on the Default morphs: instead, they use Wood Elf morphs. The headparts/RaceCompatibility script have been updated to reflect this. This also means that Wood Elf presets should be transferable.

Removed the HP LLK brows/scars/etc.: they are simply duplicates of HPH and not needed any more

Separated male and female ear meshes. Edited all ear options to sit closer to the new head morph. Stick-out ears look a little better connected now.

Added two new ear options: Small and Small Stick-Out. These are as close to regular elf-sized as I could get.

Changed up the ear selection: I've added the ear types as additional heads in the Face Part slider. This avoids the issue of ear parts stacking/deleting your eyes, while keeping compatibility with other head parts (like beards etc.)

All ears have been converted to BSDynamicShapes and I created .tri files: meaning they should follow some facial sliders and you can now use the Sculpt tool on them. Can't seem to get them to show facetints, unfortunately, so if the ear base overlaps with a warpaint, you may want to sculpt it down

Changed the eyeglow method: instead of using a mesh with a glowmap, the iris mesh now uses the regular environmental mapping and glows via emissive data. This allows for the iris to be cubemapped like the rest of the eye while still glowing

Changed the eyelashes to use the ones from Fair Skin

Adds the LLK hairstyles as options for all humanoids

The main caveat I've found with this version is that the regular elf ears exist under the merlike ones. As long as you don't enlarge them via sculpting or edit the ear sliders, it should be fine.

I am also releasing a new mod with RaceMenu presets for the LLT Full Release. It will have 4 Full Release Style presets, and 4 Classic Style presets that I've converted to work with the update.

Currently, I need to update all the earring meshes, which is going to be a big job.

Full-sized pics under cut (click to enlarge)

[yogurt200]

do you have any advice for those just starting out using renpy/ making games?

im still learning my way around renpy and making visual novels and what works best ..here are some personal findings:

..try to replace renpys default ui and mess with the options.rpy and screens.rpy right away , the more time put into it the easier it will become to make something unique to your senses. you can change basically everything. you dont have to make a widescreen vn either..4:3, square or portrait mode are possible as well

..look into layered images, the feature is really awesome if you want sprites that change outfits or want to be able to do unique expression combinations without having to save a png of every one

..its good to define characters, atl(animations), images, transitions etc each in their own .rpy file. you can make as many .rpy files as you need and you dont have to only use "script.rpy" to write your story. i divide my script into act files to make it easier..

n some not renpy stuff:

..this software helps you take breaks and avoid RSI and it is pretty invaluable for me. it will track based on the time you spend moving your mouse or keyboard. this also helps keep on task n if you get distracted you're more aware of it.

..if you are a writer, i cant recommend getting an alphasmart neo2 enough. especially if you cant handwrite. its an old device that lets you type textfiles without a bluelight screen. you can 'send' what you write directly to your computer through a printer cable and it types it out. it fits plenty and its useful for writing script outside the computer. refurbished ones on ebay are good.

..its easy to get really overambitious and perfectionist and then not make anything as a result..my advice if this comes up is to prioritize the existence of the thing rather than its ability to match the impossible image in your head. that ideal picture will always be shifting into more impossible territory as you improve anyway, so think about what you're actually capable of and make it actually happen!! important to remember ur not triple A studio.. being independent is an advantage cuz you can do anything!

thts all i can get from the top of my head tht i havent said here before(ithink?)..i think about the last one a lot honestly i think thats my best advice i have if you can call it that

hopefully this helps.. good luck with your vn/game!

[roxtron]

Day 5: Rabbit, Reclaim

AGJGDFJF FINALLY IT'S DAY 5 SO I CAN POST THIS

For some reason everytime i draw him he looks so young because i'm accidentally overcorrecting since i'm used to drawing older characters. So unfortunately he looks way younger than i meant him to lol, whoops.

But wait there's more- AHAHAHA

While I did initially plan this for GGY week I eventually got the idea to use this as an excuse to draw other GGY designs, soo..

(Not sure why tumblr formatted it that way with 1 of them big but it doesn't matter lol)

I've been wanting to do this for a while, I put the tags of each person next to their design but ofc I'm still gonna tag them in the post itself so you can see their art for yourself if you haven't already. But I enjoyed each of these in their own ways so if you don't mind I think I'm gonna type a bit of text next to them..

@chipistrate This was one of the first I drew out of these, the design was pretty fun to draw but sorry if I messed up a few details, it was a bit difficult lol. The mask and goggles are really fun to draw and they make for a cool design, along with all the glowing blue. (and yes, I tried to subtly include the heelies lol)

@lunzi0 This was the first fursuit one I did lol. I adore the little stars in the design, they personalize it so well and make it really unique. I wanna try this design again since I feel like the other ones show my improvement a bit better, but I hope you can appreciate the effort I put in on my first attempt <3

@carouselrabbit This one was really fun to draw, I absolutely love the eye shape/lashes, it stands out and I always love drawing eyes with a bit of eyeliner lol, the daycare theme legwarmers is a cool nod to the balloon boy arcade machine being connected to them, and was just a fun addition in general lol, I like the style of legwarmers what can I say, fnaf changed my fashion sense a bit. also the subtle paraells to freddy's design is a nice way to connect a bit to gregory himself.

@puhpandas I can't remember if I talked about this design last time I drew it but, overall I'm really happy with how this came out, it's such an indicator of improvement since I started drawing this and I'm glad I was able to draw it better than last time lol. All the patchwork and similarities to Vanny's suit work really well, and the rabbit you chose to base it off of was a good fit, the colors make it a bit more difficult to shade for but i like detail lol, hope you like it too :)

@dykevanny I knew I wanted to do this since I started but I wasn't sure if I'd have time, and I'm glad I did! I hope you don't mind I combined aspects from the first design I saw and the second one you replied to my ask with, I liked the big purple sleeves lol. (I just realized after doing all the shading I forgot to include the oil splatter on his jacket, sorry!) It was definitely a bit difficult due to the head shape being so different but.. fluffy. i love drawing fluff. And the glowing swirl on the goggles, the shape of the ears, I love a lot about this design. :D

I have a hard time with writing compliments but I wanted to get some of those thoughts out, some of the things I like about these designs apply to multiple lol. I adore every one of these designs but I find it hard to put into words what I enjoy about them, hope the original creators are happy with these. <3

I also kept the ggys without as much lighting effects on a separate file, I felt like I should add them since they're a bit brighter lol, makes them look different.

Okay now that I've gotten all that- Sorry this post is so long! I didn't think it'd end up taking up so much space lol. Buut.. working on this drawing and thinking about it and potential context behind it gave me an au idea for it, but I'll put it under the cut since I understand most people probably won't care and just wanna see the drawings lol.

Idk if I'm confident enough to write for it but I'll give a bit of a summary.. I'll keep it under the cut for people who aren't interested and just wanna see the art though lol.

After the main events of SB and Ruin, now that the mimic's been set free, Cassie's taken control of by what's left of Vanny, using her as a new host. But with Cassie being the only human left alive down there, after being reawakened, Dr. Rabbit has nowhere left to go but back to his old host.

Vanessa, Freddy, and Gregory hadn't gone back to the Pizzaplex after ruin, but they were trying to figure out a plan to get Cassie back safely. One night after Freddy and Gregory disappear, Vanessa leaves to go find them. As dangerous as the pizzaplex is, it's her best guess for where they might've gone. She doesn't want to think about what could've happened to them, in denial for the worst case scenario. She tries to keep herself calm by telling herself they probably just left to go back for Cassie, maybe they didn't want her stopping them.. but deep down she knows it can't be that simple. She knows something's off, even if she's not ready to admit it.

When returning to the pizzaplex, she brought along her own V.A.N.N.I. mask, though unlike the one Cassie used, it was clear of the mimic's influence. After all, she was going to need some way to travel through potential blocked routes.

By the time she found Gregory, she'd still been wearing the mask, seeing him down the end of a dark hallway. He looked confused, afraid, his mind was a wreck of conflicting emotions. She started rushing towards him, happy to see him okay, until he finally spoke.

"You need to get out of here."

She stepped back, taking off the mask, only to be faced with the worst case scenario.

It was a wreck, covered in stains and tears, but it was still recognizable. He was wearing that old suit again.

As he waved, she could see Freddy's claws peeking out from the doorway, as the two stepped closer towards her.

So, she did what he told her to do, and started running. She could hear a faint voice coming from the mask, and put it back on before finding somewhere she could hide.

It was his voice again, telling her which way to go.

I guess that was the dramatic way to summarize the main idea behind it, lol. Basically Gregory and Dr. Rabbit work the way Sun and Moon work in Ruin, whichever one is in control in the real world, the other is left behind in the AR world. Or at least that's my interpretation of how they worked, considering Sun was always in mask-on scenes and moon was mask-off. I'm not too sure where the plot might go from there, and maybe I'll consider writing for it, I dunno. I've never wrote fanfic before because I get deadly afraid of writing them out of character lol, but maybe?? I have ideas for scenes and premise and stuff but I don't know if I have the confidence to write it.

But anyway! That was just more of a fun side-idea I came up with while working on this, if you read this far thanks, hope you enjoyed :)

here's some silly little lineless doodles as a reward for making it to the end hehe

now that's what I call an art dump

@ggyweek2024

[thydungeongal]

So I don't run a lot of TTRPGs besides d&d 5e since it's the one all my homies know and we enjoy playing, but I've got a few campaigns in the works that I think could do with a different system so I thought I'd ask the tumblr ttrpg guy. Any good systems for something like a JRPG themed game with class and skill progression? Rules light or crunchy is fine just so long as it's not like cyberpunk 2020 levels of crunch lmao

I don't quite know what you mean by Class/Skill based progression, so feel free to specify, but I see JRPG and my mind immediately goes to Fabula Ultima!

Fabula Ultima is a tabletop RPG explicitly inspired by JRPGs. At its core it's a very simple system where you have five stats, expressed as dice values from 1d4 to 1d12, and every roll in the game is STAT+STAT and rolling the two respective dice together, trying to exceed a target number. This is also the system used for the game's combat system, but with added depth taking into account weapon type (different weapons use different stat pairs for their attack rolls and have different damage values), status effects (expressed as boost and penalties on certain abilities), and character skills.

Character skills are gained via classes (I can't remember if that was the term used in the game) in a system that is like a simplified tabletop version of the job system from classic Final Fantasies. A degree of multiclassing is built into the game: you start at level 5 already and must have levels in at least three classes to begin with. Creating and leveling a character takes the form of mixing and matching abilities from different classes in order to make a character that fits your vision.

It's an absolutely beautiful game with a simple base system with a lot of depth built on top of it, and really speaks to the love its creators have for JRPGs.

Another one I could see myself recommending is Break!!, which is a very old school adventure RPG but with amazing presentation and myriad inspirations from various sources including JRPGs. It's sadly not currently available to my knowledge since it was Kickstarted, unless it's possible to preorder it somehow? But based on the Kickstarter backer files it is shaping up to be an absolutely fantastic game. Simple, purely stat and level based system with each level in a class (again I can't remember the actual word used in the game) granting a new class ability. Characters are single-classed by default and there are no multi-classing rules, but the classes in the game are very fun and strong archetypes.

Break!! is fantastic and, like, after I had finished playing Sea of Stars I was like "dang I should put a Break!! game together." So yeah

But yeah do get back to me with what you meant specifically with class and skill based so I can tailor my recommendations to you. Also check out @theresattrpgforthat, I wouldn't be surprised if Mint had already answered this exact question :)

[sunservals]

THESE ARE CLOSED, THANK YOU EVERYONE!

Hey, hey! I'm looking to take 1-2 simple reference sheet slots!

Price starts at 70USD, complexity fees may apply!

Payment through stripe (card payment) or PayPal - clients choice

If interested please DM me with your character art/old ref/any visual refernce (keep it sfw pls), preffered payment method and email to send wip(s) and finished file to!

Quick info:

Only for preexisting charcters. The character should already have a complete or near-complete design, only needing minor changes and updates if any.

Client must provide some sort of a visual reference of their character. Details can be described and changed, but some sort of visual ref is REQUIRED (Be it already existing art, old ref, simple doodle or colored in base)

Your character doesn't have to have symmetrical design! All examples just happen to be like that lol

All body types are welcome!

Regular TOS apply

Examples: (Bottom two would normally have back view too)

Reblogs are appreciated ✨

[yanderederee]

MurderMystery

「探偵 場地！」

April29th, 2004

a/n: I felt inspired to rewrite this in a fun drabble idea♡ I was sad the opportunity was only given a five page spread, so I took matters into tutor!reader’s hands:)

shoutout to @tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang for kindly helping me locating the bonus chapter link, so I may refresh myself on all the specifics regarding the deduction quiz (spoiler; the only clue pointed out is the ‘murder tool’/pill bottle.)

before! › here! › after!

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✦

*i am not a medical professional; all drug/medications/ailments are either made up or should not be looked into as truth!

To say the least , you were ecstatic when Ryusei recruited you for this role.

Based on how Chifuyu and he had explained it to you, Baji was actually excited to try solving a detective case of his own.

They had even already dragged the ever so willing Mitarai into this plan as well.

You and Mitarai were friends. The both of you were very good in academics, and keeping patience with the overzealous boys in front of you.

The two of you huddled together that same day, whispering to eachother different plans and hints to lay around as clues.

“So, who is the killer?” You asked the genuine poindexter.

You could tell he was flustered by your closeness. You didn’t mind though, nerds were cute.

Mitarai looked over your compiled notes in critical fashion. Collaborating back and forth on the matter, you truly felt like the case would be a hit.

After about a half hour of planning, giggling, and whispering to one another, you could feel a heavy presence looked over your back. Automatically breaking out into a smile, you threw your hands across the desk to hide all evidence.

“What’re you doing?” Baji asked, flat. It was a simple question, yet the dark glint of jealousy glared obvious.

You could tell Baji was addressing how close you had been getting to Mitarai, but you thought jealous boys were cuter; better to play coy.

“Creating an awesome case,” you admitted, pulling all the papers that littered your desk into one big pile, to which you organized out of his view. “I’m actually really excited to come up with this!”

Mitarai made an attempt in hopping into the conversation. “Y/n is quite good at this! She had written a sequence of events in only a matter of seconds. Though, I admit her knowledge in…. ‘forensics’ is a little unnerving.” he murmured.

You shrugged with pride, putting the papers into a manila folder, and into your bag.

“I’ll have the materials for the operation by tomorrow. I’m gonna go consult with the victim of this case~”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✦

You bend down, checking for any sign of life. Your blood ran cold. “Detective, he…. He’s dead.” You announce to the room. Baji bends down, patting your arm so to dismiss you from the corpse. “This bottle looks suspicious…” he murmured seriously.

Chifuyu grinned wide at you and Mitarashi, giving a subtle thumbs up. You chose to remain in character, following the scripted dialogue you wrote and handed out yesterday (that everyone barely mesmerized in time).

Normally, Baji would love to solve this kind of thing on his own. But you knew better than anyone, that without direction, Baji would soon become irritable and fume with frustration. He just needed to notice the clues, without telling him he found a clue. Make it seem like he figured it out himself.

“Here is Sora Ijuuin’s file,” you handed Baji a small packet of paper, containing a profile shot of Chuu, some blurbs of false medical history, and reposts given by neighbors on the events leading up to the victim’s demise. “Please look over it carefully..”

“Thank you assistant.” He acknowledged shortly. Looking over the file, it took him a few minutes, but eventually he stood in haste.

Ijuuin Sora, date of birth: 03/07/1980, blood type: B, marital status: married.

- Statement given by Neighbor [1]: “That voice of his [Sora Ijuuin] sure does carry! Just three days ago, I could hear him fighting with someone clear down the street!”

- Statement given by Neighbor [3]: “Well , there has been a suspicious looking fellow visiting that house for the past month. He visits perhaps once a week. White hair, and dark skin. Suspicious!”

“Seems Chu had a few visitors before he bit it.” Baji said suspiciously. “Satou Ryusei, what business did you have with the victim three days ago?”

Baji thought he looked so cool, keeping his glare focused on the taller boy in the room.

Excellent. First step, make Baji suspect and snuff out all clues from innocent yet suspicious figures in the room.

Ryusei played it cool, a poker face striping him of all laughing matters. “Sora and I were colleagues. We had been collaborating on a project for about a month now. I came by to discuss these matters three days ago.”

“Sound reason. You say you were simply discussing, but neighbor complains state they heard loud arguing. You two must have had a disagreement.”

Baji’s cool demeanor slowly began showing more confidence as he made his case.

“We’re both particularly passionate fellows,” Ryusei suppressed a giggle. He may have thought your script was a little over the top. “We disagreed often. But our altercations were never very loud. We always came to sound conclusions.”

“And was that conclusion murder?” Baji asked accusatively.

“I would never!”

Baji hummed. Blaming Ryusei seemed too easy. And if he learned anything from his detective shows, never go with your first guess. So, eyeing the file again he read;

- Statement given by Neighbor [3]: “…his [Sora Ijuuin] wife and I only spoke on occasion. She told me they had been dating since high school. They had gotten together thanks to a mutual friend. […] Arguments with his wife have been consistent over the years, but for the last 6 months, they have been non-stop! They become progressively louder as days pass.”

- Statement given by Acquaintance [1]: “Sora? Yeah, he and some four eyes were friends back in high school. Though, he always seemed to have a thing for his girlfriend at the time. Guess they’re still friends, saw them hanging out recently. I heard four eyes became a doctor. Good for him.”

- Statement given by Neighbor [2]: “I’ve heard rumors about resident of that house becoming recently ill! A friend of his, I presume, has been visiting often to oversee his health. I hope he’s well?”

Based on this statement repost, Baji soon began concluding that it was perhaps Chu’s “wife” may be the murderer. However, reading further, he realized this to be impossible.

- […] After a particularly heated argument, {assumedly being the disagreement of Three Days ago}, eye witness repost conclude Wife had gone to stay with her mother three days ago.

Chifuyu caught your waiting gaze, and understood the subtle nod in his direction. Playing into the role, Chifuyu settled closer to the crime scene, eying the pill bottle.

“Cause of death, overdose? But with what? … Medication? Was Mr Sora ill?”

“My colleague often complained about suffering from unexplained migraines and severe nose bleeds. I recall him mentioning these symptoms began about three months ago.”

“He met quite frequently with his at home physician to determine a diagnosis.”

“Were the physician and victim on good terms?”

“Yes. In fact, neighbor reposts state they originally thought him an old familiar friend of the victim, with how often and friendly their visits.”

“Ah! Ijuuin and I have been friends for some years now, even before he requested I oversee his declining health.” Mitarai spoke up confidently.

A shock to everyone in the room, everyone stood silent. Baji’s judgemental gaze looked over the self proclaimed physician up and down, thinking of anyway to blame him.

Dense as he was, he nodded. “A nobel friend always sticks by his friend’s side. My condolences, doctor.” Baji turned, thinking to other matters at hand.

No!! Everyone internally yelled.

Mitarashi was practically trying to be blamed, at this point!! But Baji wasn’t taking the bait.

No matter, you sighed silently, planning your second hint.

“Looks like the only evidence useful to us is this pill bottle.” Baji interjected.

You handed Baji a plastic glove, insisting he wear it before touching any evidence. After doing so, he observed the bottle.

It was medicine, plain and simple. Without even so much as a label on the bottle, it was impossible to identify further than that.

“Detective,” Chifuyu whispered to Baji, just as you described he should do in the script. “I recognize the look of this pill. Its purpose is to increase blood flow, mostly aimed for anemic patients. It doesn’t match the name of the medicine typed on the pill bottle.”

Unfortunately, Baji had no idea what the fuck ‘an anemia’ even was.

“Doctor, if you could please elaborate, what diagnosis came of your time spent together?” You asked Mitarashi. He nodded in response.

“Ijuuin described having severe nosebleeds, following his migraines. I concluded he suffered textbook side effects of overexertion.”

A medication meant to increase blood flow for a patient with frequent nose bleeds? Baji finally started putting the clues together.

“Were you the one to prescribe this medicine, doctor?” Baji asked Mitarai.

Aha!!

Mitarashi purposely showed signs of nervousness. “Y-yes! That medicine is one that regulates migraines. I-it even says it on the bottle!”

Baji smirked, dropping the bottle into a plastic, held open by Chifuyu. “We’ll see what the forensic’s team has to say about that.”

Mitarai became anxious at the mention, but chose to keep quiet. Baji hadn’t earned a confession out of him yet.

Baji really had to think now. He had evidence, but no motive. What motive would a physician have to kill his own patient? One he seemed fond of, even.

The room grew quiet, and frustration was eating up Baji’s neck. How could he get the guy to confess?

And unfortunately for Mitarashi, when Detective Baji began to feel frustrated, he had a hard time putting a cap on his emotions. In fact, he physically couldn’t.

So of course, he resorted to intimidation.

“Speakin’ of forensics, back there, I noticed there’s a pill that’s been crushed up. Almost like it was stepped on. Saaay, doc, how bout I see the underside of those shoes, huh?” Baji grinned ear to ear, eyes creasing in one-sided victory.

Mitarai gasped, red faced and shaking. It was hard to tell if it was because he was in character, or genuinely scared of Baji’s terrifying aura.

“P-please sir! Spare me!” He yelled, backing up against the door quickly, showing the underside of only one of his shoes. “There’s nothing! See! Nothing!”

Baji shook his head, and in one quick motion, bent Mitarai’s standing knee. Unable to balance himself in time, the four-eyes fell to the floor with a scream. “Well what’da ya know? What’s this blue powder here? Think we’re gonna need to send this over too, Detective Matsuno.” He chuckled.

Surely this was enough to earn his confession.

“F-fine! I swapped the medication! I’ve been giving him medicine to make him sicker and sicker f-for the last five months… but-but! … I had to!” Mitarai crocked, crocodile tears falling down his face.

Damn, Mitarai sure knew how to act!! Who would have guessed…

“Well, spit it out.” Baji hurried.

Mitarai took a few deep breaths, increasing the reveals dramatic timing. “He made Hanako cry… I’ve… loved Hanako ever since I met her, you see!” Mitarashi looked away bashfully.

“Who’s Hanako? From the Toilet?”

“That’s the name of the victims’s wife. It’s on file.”

“…oh…”

“You’ve been friends with Mr Sora since high school?” You asked the clarifying question, which finally clicked in Baji’s mind.

“Yes! She always had eyes for the obnoxious types though… so, I waited… And just as I suspected, he began to mistreat her, all over petty misunderstandings and other stupid, meaningless things! They were fighting so often, Hanako finally reached out to me to ask for advise….

“I told her to give it time. I just needed a little time… make him sick, until he died of natural causes! Than she’d finally be free! So you see, it was out of love! And it worked!” Mitarai laughed, still hysterically crying. “He’s gone now, Hanako. She can be happy now, right detective?”

Baji’s face was cold at Mitarashi’s performance.

“That’s why?” He asked. “All over a girl? Seriously?” He clicked his tongue.

You frowned at his disgust.

“What a lame reason. Whatever, we got what we came here for. Matsuno, cuff this freak.”

And just as quickly, Baji’s victory became evident with such a wide grin. “Haha! I’m a genius! Bet ya didn’t think I’d notice that stepped on pill over there did ya?” He said in your face.

You laughed in unison, and rose your hand up to give him a big high five. “I’ll admit, I was wondering how long it would take you to notice, but I had faith in you, Detective!~”

The lot of you all cheered for Baji, making his ego soar all the more. But just as you thought to stop, that adorable toothy grin of his made you swoon all over again.

While he and Chu were laughing together, Ryusei took notice of your adoring stare, and melancholy smile. “You like him, don’t you?” He asked so very quietly. As much as you could act embarrassed and deny him, you knew it would be in vain. Ryusei knew. Your smile became more flatlined.

“I do… it’s one-sided, I know… but I’m happy where I am, for now.”

Ryusei watched as you tore your gaze away, distracting yourself with cleaning up the rest of the murder scene. Out of earshot, Ryusei chuckled. “One sided, huh… Can’t say I’m so sure of that.”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✦

Finally, after it was all said and done, the lot of you found yourselves shoved close into a booth at a local family diner. It was cheap and close by, but deserving enough for Detective Baji’s victory on his latest case.

“Still! That cheesy alibi was so over the top. Seriously, which one of you even came up with that crap?” Baji mulled over his drink, glaring at how closely sat you and Mitarai were sitting. You rolled your eyes. “Yeah yeah, just let it go already.”

“Mitarashi! Your acting was so good back there though, I almost thought you were really crying!” Chifuyu praised the four eyes beside him. “Thank you! I wasn’t sure if I could pull it off at first.”

Still dressed in the costumes stolenborrowed from the Drama Club, you all looked quite dashing and out of place in this family diner. But not a one of you seemed to care. Everyone was in high spirits.

Baji would occasionally bring up how ‘killing someone for a girl you like is so lame.’ And sure, he was right. It just made you all the more embarrassed that you were the one to come up with the dramatic idea. But that was the idea! Detective shows were dramas!

As everyone threw in their last praises and thoughts on the case, the natural urge to pee made itself known to you. Quickly excusing yourself, you shimmied yourself out from the booth. It hadn’t even been a few minutes before you were relieved and headed back for the table.

On your way to do so, some high school delinquent who clearly wasn’t paying attention to how much of the narrow walkway he was taking up, ended up smacking right dab into your shoulder. It wasn’t enough to make you fall backwards, but enough to lose your balance. What an asshole!

Yet, when you glared up for your rightfully owed apology, the high schooler kept walking. Baffled, you pursed your lips into a thin line. It probably wouldn’t do you any good to go after him. But that was way too rude!

Unbeknownst to you, the whole scene became a spectacle for your delinquent friend group. And they were Not having it. Most of all, Baji Keisuke. He practically hopped over the table to get out from the booth quicker— rather than waiting for whoever was on the outside to make way.

“Oi, asshole.” Baji seethed through his teeth. It was quiet, enough to not draw attention from everyone in the restaurant, at least. “Apologize, or we’re takin’ this outside.” He’d since grabbed the collar of the offending jerk.

The high schooler chuckled, not taking Baji all that seriously. “Yeah right, get lost pipsqueak.” He went to push Baji, who was a solid few inches shorter than him. Unfortunately, Baji took this personally.

Baji laughed at the audacity of this jerk, grabbing his arm hard, and twisting it behind his back. He wasn’t trying to cause a scene, but there he was, causing a scene.

You aught to stop him, but nothing you’d say would do you any good. “Stay here, this won’t take more than five minutes.” Baji had told you.

It didn’t take long for Baji to walk the punk outside of the family diner, around the front and into a less populated street.

Ryusei gave a shrug, and offered you a seat. “Leave him be, that’s just how he is.”

Chifuyu was tempted to follow his squad leader, but decided against it after seeing how anxious the whole situation was making you. “Maybe we should leave…” you mumbled. “No way, we just ordered while you were gone!” Ryusei patted your shoulder. Mitarashi was also a little unsettled, but tried not to show it.

“If anything, you should be glad Keisuke’s actually showing this much restraint. Normally. He’d have pummeled the poor guy in front of everyone and got us kicked out.” Ryusei sighed, as though that same scenario had just happened recently.

Just as Baji promised, he was back at the table in less than 5 minutes. “‘I miss anything?” He asked, a proud wide toothy smirk painting his features.

That proud look really suited him. Stop, why were you thinking about how cute he was at a time like this? Did you seriously find delinquency that attractive? Your heart felt like it’d beat out of your chest.

“Still think it’s one-sided?~” Ryusei whispered in your ear with a shit eating grin.

Your face went beat red.

“Hey, what’d I say about personal space asshole?” Baji cursed at his friend before pushing him hard.

“Sorry sorry~”

…♡

[chaotic-tired-fox]

In terms of getting really obscure facts about my Special Interests(tm) I am a master.

So here’s a whole bunch of obscure Resident Evil facts for y’all!

Part two: here!

Part three: here!

Lemme know if any of these surprised you or if you knew any of these!

☠️ Leon is scared of lightning (Astraphobia) but not thunder. (RE6)

☠️ Chris has a fear of late night phone calls because that’s how he learned of his parents death.

☠️ Piers is very heavily implied to be Bisexual due to a file in Revelations 2 (his concept art also implies this, if you know you know)

☠️ The Hound Wolf Squad is the only squad Chris has had that have all survived the entire game.

☠️ Wesker and Birkin were childhood friends

☠️ The Cerberus are all clones of each other which is why they’re all Doberman

☠️ Leon is a terrible driver, crashing one of just about every vehicle type including cars, a boat, a motorbike, a plane and a helicopter.

☠️ Sheva is one of the only left handed characters

☠️ Wesker wore glasses to hide his emotions (and later his red eyes)

☠️ Chris can play Bass guitar

☠️ Ada Wong isn’t her real name

☠️ Vector is Japanese

☠️ Vector is the only character that can canonically turn invisible (Hunk can too but only in various mercenary modes)

☠️ Hunk is said to respond emotionally to the name ‘Bella’

☠️ The USS soldier who shot Birkin and started the outbreak had the callsign ‘Ghost’

☠️ Nighthawk has two call signs, the other being ‘Lone Wolf’

☠️ Barry Burton and Wesker are the same age however Wesker appeared to stop aging at 38 years old after infection.

☠️ Jake Muller was conceived before Wesker was infected with the Progenitor Virus making his immunity to the C Virus a plot hole.

☠️ Lobo is the only member of the Hound Wolf Squad that had worked with Chris prior to Village. See Heavenly Island

☠️ Piers was introduced in the comic The Marhawa Desire set before RE6

☠️ Chris and Jill both know 7 fighting styles. Leon knows 6

☠️ Lady Dimitrescu is highly implied to be Lesbian

☠️ Heisenberg was the one who told Chris and the Hound Wolf Squad about Miranda (though planned to betray them from the beginning)

☠️ Ethan’s immortality was gained back in RE7 at the dinner table scene with the Bakers as they resurrected him after Jack killed him.

☠️ Piers and Claire kept in contact via email and later phone calls up until his death in China. It is implied he told her nothing about Chris’s amnesia at the time.

☠️ Jill Valentine learned to lock pick from her father who was a French thief

☠️ Leon once considered suicide after the events of RE2 but stayed alive because Sherry needed him

☠️ Leon’s parents were both criminals who died when he was a child. He was inspired to become a cop after the one who rescued him.

☠️ Hunk had an intense rivalry with Nicholai which is why he interfered so much with Vector and Wolfpack.

☠️ Birkin prided himself on being the youngest Umbrella researcher at only 16 until a 10 year old Alexia Ashford came along.

☠️ Wesker made his own blueprints for anti BOW weaponry which later inspired the creations of Thor’s Hammer and modifications based on his original Samurai Edge called the AW Model

☠️Jake Muller is an incredibly gifted pianist

☠️ Chris Redfield was a notorious prankster during his days at STARS

☠️ When Chris went missing after Edonia one of the people Piers contacted was Sheva.

☠️ Leon and Wesker never meet nor interact directly

☠️ Hunk has also never interacted with any of the main characters including Wesker

☠️ During RE2 Wesker/Ada and Hunk were working against each other to obtain the G Virus unknowingly

☠️ Some, if not all of Wolfpack survive the Raccoon City outbreak after sparing Leon, Claire and Sherry and betraying Umbrella.

☠️The BSAA were actively working against Chris and the HWS in Village, implying to even have the green light to kill them.

☠️ Zoe Baker after RE7 is implied to have become an informant for Chris Redfield and a journalist

☠️ Hunk agreed to personally train Vector after they fought to a draw. Vector is also the only character to ever escape from Hunk’s neck snapping headlock.

☠️ The USS were Umbrella’s personal army whilst the UBCS were just hired mercenaries and in the end considered a liability

☠️ Simmons from RE6 was one of the ones responsible for passing the vote to blow up Raccoon City

☠️ About 10% of humans have immunity to the T-Virus and Umbrella never figured out how

☠️ Chief Irons was straight up a serial killer able to cover his tracks thanks to Umbrella’s involvement while also being paid to stay quiet about their experiments

☠️ Hunk developed his own fighting style called Close Quarters Quarantined Battle Zone after Umbrella’s downfall in 2003 in which he became a legendary mercenary.

☠️ Thanks to Shadows of Rose, Chris is implied to still be working well into his 60’s as well as the Hound Wolf Squad.

☠️ ‘K’ from Shadows of Rose is heavily implied to be an older Canine from the HWS

☠️ The new Death Island CGI movie is not only the first time we’ll see Jill in the timeline since 2009 but also the first time we’ll see Leon and Jill onscreen together

[yunoftheclouds]

Here is my take on the Obey Me! brothers but genderbent!

If you don’t like genderbends, please keep scrolling :’)

Individual files and comments under the cut :D

I wasn’t exactly sure what to do for her body type? But I did know I wanted her to have businesswoman vibes,,, I didn’t change the outfit much since it still fit in my opinion—save for the best and the shoes. Did you know women’s clothing has the buttons on the other side? That’s why it’s “backwards”. I also hate Lucifer’s OG shoes d(￣ ￣) so I swapped it out. Also figured a bun to keep her hair out of her face would be nice.

Honestly I don’t understand Mammon very much so I struggled a lot with the body type,,, I wanted to give everyone a body type that suited them, but it’s hard to do that when you don’t understand a character fully. I did try my best though! I also love the lighter palm detail on darker skintones,,, so pretty. Also you can’t tell me she wouldn’t wear ripped jeans. I won’t listen.

Gamer girl! Everyone always bullies Levi in their genderbent designs by making her flat,, it’s funny but I think it somewhat fits? I also changed her trousers to what I think she’d wear :’)

My personal favourite of the ones I’ve done! I may be biased though since Satan is my favourite in the game,,, lol. Again with the flipped jacket because women’s clothing yadda yadda. I’ve had this body headcannon for a while so I’m happy to finally execute it.

I don’t have much to say about Asmo—she’s just a girl living in her own world. Once again this is based on how I feel like she’d dress.

I didn’t change much at all with Beel. Before you come at me with “why didn’t you give her a big chest” please remember that they’re fat storages!!! With how much Beel exercises she wouldn’t be able to biologically have that (=´∀｀)

Haha insert cow joke here- okay but seriously, she seems like she’d be a really nice to cuddle with,,, Since she’s sloth I’d assume she wouldn’t be super skinny, so I gave her some chub. So cute. She has also been freed of the ugly pants OG Belphie has. ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ