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ch4nb4ng · 5 months
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hoping to finish in the next day or so :)
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ch4nb4ng · 5 months
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Rules: Share the last line you wrote and tag the same number of people as the words in the line.
“Ok so once I light this, take a small breath in, hold for a second, and blow it out.”
@seo--changbin @bruh-changbin @lix-ables idk enough people to tag sorry 😭
Tag Game: Last line.
Rules: Share the last line you wrote and tag the same number of people as the words in the line.
Minho pulls you into a hug, “I understand you. You can still value all the good things he did for you.”
no pressure tagging (not as many people as this has words though sorry for breaking the rules): @bintific @ch4nb4ng @linosnoot @seo--changbin @hyungszn @hwan-g @amyysfics & whoever wants to do this consider yourself tagged by me <3
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ch4nb4ng · 5 months
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HOW DO U COME UO WITH SUCH GOOD IDEAD TAN
RED LIGHTS — [18+!]
AN INTERACTIVE CHRISTMAS SERIES
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💻 Forget about every other reality TV show that’s part of your guilty pleasure watchlist. This Christmas time, there’s only one you will ever need to know about and get absolutely obsessed with. Red Lights—the perfect combination of your favourite concepts all in a cosy setting for winter. However, the contestants aren’t aware what they are signing up for and how they are already connected to each other before the start of it. [announced here on 27/05/23]
❗️[READ CAREFULLY] You, Y/N, are part of this year’s season, starring as the main character, surrounded by eight very different men that you have all met before. But it’ll need some time and decision making to find out who they are and to get closer to them. In order to decide how the story unfolds and what happens in following episodes, select an option for the poll after reading a chapter. Similar to a christmas calendar, a new episode will be added each day from 1st December until the big finale on 25th December 2023!
🛷 CONTENT INFO: skz ot8 x afab reader [not at the same time], reality/dating show AU, tropes will be revealed throughout the story, smut/fluff/angst, lots of discussion about the moral perspective of dating shows, it’s an alternative concept that tries to be less problematic/toxic, they are flawed characters and you should keep that in mind, content warning under the cut
📕 WORD COUNT: ?/?
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CHAPTERS:
[1] — NOT SHY | more to be added…
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🥀 CONTENT WARNING: alcohol consumption, explicit sexual content, mention of breakup, unrequited love and jealousy [more might be added throughout the writing and publishing process]
❤️‍🔥 AUTHOR’S NOTE: lmk if you want to be added to the taglist because you plan to leave meaningful comments after reading! have a nice and cosy christmas time in case you celebrate it :)
The characters do not portray any of the skz members in real life, the names are just used for fiction. Minors do not interact, this post contains mature topics. By reading you consent to nsfw content and agree that you have read all the warnings above carefully.
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© j-0ne25 2023 | copying, translating or stealing my work is prohibited
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ch4nb4ng · 5 months
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Face sitting with SKZ
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this time, it's them sitting on your face <3
PAIRINGS: OT8 x fem!Reader
GENRE: Mature (Smut) and fluff
CONTAINS: established relationship, non-idol au
GENERAL WARNINGS: none
WORD COUNT: 1.3k words
A/N: this is for 🐌 anonnie who commissioned me to do this! Thank you so much!! I'll write you something as a gift really really soon as my thank you <3
smut warnings under the cut!
SMUT WARNINGS: face sitting/riding, rimming, ass eating and cock sucking, implied dom/sub dynamics on some members, degradation, body worship, cum shots, anal fingering
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Bang Chan
He gets so shy and blushy??? Like you know how he covers his face as an attempt to hide himself with his shy smile and giggles? Yeah, like that, except he’s hovering above you with his thighs on either side of your head, hesitating whether he should actually sit on top of you or not. Chan is pretty open to trying new things so it didn’t take that much convincing to get him to agree to this little experiment. Besides, he’s no stranger to doing butt stuff (yes, you’ve pegged him once). “Now you understand why I don’t sit on your face right away when you tell me to?” You tease him, and he only replies with a shy “Lovieee stop teasing,” doing his lil face scrunch :(( While he tries to gather whatever is left from his dignity, you take the time to run your hands over the strong muscle of his thighs, admiring his smooth skin and the fading bruises you gave him a few days prior. Also, he may be shy, but he’s also evidently turned on because his cock hangs heavily between his legs, twitching in anticipation. Just know he wouldn’t last long with all the stimulation that’s going on. Your hand pumping his spit-slicked cock, your tongue licking up his balls, your fingers opening his tight lil ass, all the while you look at him straight in the eyes. Yup, he’s busting quick.
Lee Minho
Needless to say, he’s amused and you’re the one who’s flustered which wasn’t supposed to be the plab. It was you who’s supposed to be in control tonight, it was you who was supposed to take the reins, but why does it feel like Minho is still the one who’s in control? “Come on, jagi. We don’t have all night,” he’d say the moment he caught you staring at him with wide eyes. That’s when you realized that you have no idea what you’re doing and why you thought that it was such a good idea to think that you have control over him. He’s the one whose ass would be eaten tonight but it still feels like he’s the one eating you alive. Ah, but even if Minho’s a menace and would be such a tease, he’s not cruel enough to not guide you, besides, you were brave for taking the initiative to spice things up (and for thinking that you could dom over him), he’d give you that. So there he is, an amused and proud smile on his face while he has his thick fucking legs caging your head, making sure that there’s definitely no escape.
“Right there, baby, that’s it— fuck,” he’d praise you while you lick over his rim, using both of your hands to keep his ass spread open while he jerks himself off. You appreciate the little kick of his hips as he starts to chase his high, but he only cums the moment u slip a finger inside his hole and press against his prostate. Yeah… he definitely came a lot but it’s a mess that you’re more than happy to lick clean.
Seo Changbin
Listen, the baby girl deserves baby girl treatment ok? That means, it is an absolute MUST and I mean MUST to give his thighs kisses before you go to town on him. I just know that Binnie absolutely loves it when you lick the inside of his thigh too (he’s sensitive there and gives out the best of moans). Did I also mention that he also loves getting praised? Just love him, adore him, run your hands all over his legs and ass, hell— even his soft stomach. Tell him he looks absolutely beautiful and so so strong, he’ll definitely end up fucking his cock in your mouth until he busts with fat tears rolling down his face.
Hwang Hyunjin
He’s like Minho. He’s amused, and I just know that he really enjoys sitting on your face. Like full on sitting until you tap his ass to get some air. He’s so demanding too, ordering you around just because he can. He’s also such a grinder? He’s just very focused on getting as much pleasure as he can from your mouth. He absolutely loves it when you push your tongue pass his rim, he’d even bounce on it too. Do that while you jerk him off, specifically focusing on his tip, you’ll have his runny cum dripping all over your fingers and wrists (he cums in buckets) while his thighs shake from the stimulation <3
Han Jisung
Just another baby girl that deserves baby girl treatment, but make it nasty. I’m pushing my gross!jisung agenda here so just expect the involvement of a lot of spit. Loves it when you slick his cock with as much saliva as you can, might spit on his own cock too just for good measure. With Jisung, it’s honestly just messy ass eating and handjobs that has him going whenever he gets to sit on your face. He’s also really grabby, loves pulling on your hair to push your head further against his bottom so he can grind against you. Also, he loves to just cum all over you. Today, it’s on your face, tomorrow? Who knows! Maybe on your chest or just all over the sheets <3
Lee Felix
He can cum untouched tbh and would honestly love it if you just focus on fingering his ass open. His adorable lil cocklet would just be dripping precum all over your chest while you work your way through until you find his prostrate. While your fingers are busy, your lips are doing its work by placing kisses all over the tiny little freckles on his thighs, and just like his Binnie hyung, he’s also very sensitive there so don’t be afraid to also give him a few licks!! His usual deep voice turn into high piched moans the moment he cums, his cock twitching as his cum just drips down his shaft and down your face in the form of pretty little droplets.
Kim Seungmin
Ok, not gonna lie, he’s probs hesitant to try it because he probs think it’s weird because it isn’t that common. You’ve sat on his face before, and this time, it’s his turn to sit on yours. His usual snarky and dominant side just… disappears into thin air because he can’t even look at you. He’s just so embarrassed and seeing him all shy like this, losing his composure, was definitely something you’ve never seen before. You figured that teasing him might scare him more so you save that for later. Instead, you just soothe his nerves by rubbing the skin of his legs, reassuring him that it’s all okay, it’s just you and him and the pleasure you’ll give him the moment he relaxes. Seungmin would probably never admit it, but the way your tongue just moves against his rim then to his balls to the base of his cock??? It definitely has him seeing stars. And the way your hand moves in tandem on his tip really has him feeling his orgasm bubbling deep within. When he cums, he cums with a broken groan, his hands clutching against the headboard with labored breaths because he did not expect that to feel so good.
Yang Jeongin
Oh yeah, he’s filthy. He’s the guy who’d make you eat his ass during blowjobs, so him sitting on your face just makes things more accessible to do a more filthy stop. His mouth is equally filthy, degrading you for being such an obedient lil bitch for him, letting him use your face just to get off. Might even use his phone to record you with the flash on with your tongue fuck his ass. Threatens to send it to the boys if you misbehave but you know damn well he wouldn’t do that because no one is allowed to see you acting like his little slut! “Fuck yeah, baby. Love eating my ass so much like the filthy bitch you are? Hm? Love it when I use your tongue to make myself cum?” and cum he does, jerking himself of to completion and spills unto your awaiting tongue and face <3
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TAG LIST: @ch4nb4ng, @iadorethemskz, @jaykyo, @operation-steal-chans-laptop, @biribarabiribbaem, @mixtape-racha, @abiaswreck, @skz1-4-3, @bangtancultsposts
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ch4nb4ng · 5 months
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and what if I posted an OT8 x reader series soon? what if, hm?
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ch4nb4ng · 5 months
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SECRET SECRET — [18+!]
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Chan sighs, “What if… one day, being just friends with you… isn’t enough for me anymore?”
“When will one day be?”
He blinks. Maybe there’s a chance for a happy ending. Maybe.
“It’s been for a few years,” he confesses.
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🎸 SYNOPSIS: In order to get rid off the ridiculous crush you have on your best friend Chan, you decide to project all those feelings on an unreachable celebrity, rockstar CB97, instead to protect your stupid heart. But little do you know that these two guys might be closer than expected. When you get invited by 3RACHA’s company to edit their newest music video, suspicions finally pop up in your head.
🎤 CONTENT INFO: chan x afab reader, rockstar chan, video editor reader, smut/fluff/tiniest bit of angst, best friends to lovers, mutual pining, idiots to lovers, reader is a 3RACHA simp especially for CB97 but doesn’t know it’s chan, jisung being president of baboracha (once again), part of the TOPLINE universe but can be read as a standalone, warnings and smut tags under the cut
🎫 WORD COUNT: 9.3K
📷 CONTENT WARNING: mention of obsessive fans/sasaengs and the dangers that come with being a public figure, lying and keeping secrets
⛓️ SMUT: dom/sub dynamics, protected sex, corruption kink, praise, reader gets called baby, good girl, sweetheart etc.
The characters do not portray any of the skz members in real life, the names are just used for fiction. Minors do not interact, this post contains mature topics. By reading you consent to nsfw content and agree that you have read all the warnings above carefully.
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You let your bag sink down next to your chair, after placing your hot tea on the table. It’s always so calm in the morning, going to the office. Maybe that’s why you’ve chosen to start working in the earlier hours these past weeks. It helps you focus, keeps you calm before the building gets filled with busy people.
Your job is great. You love it—it’s everything you’ve ever wanted. After having relatives and friends trying to keep you from studying something creative, telling you to get a stable job instead—whatever that is in this economy—you’ve always stuck to your plans and dreams. And now you’re here—working as a video editor for a big company.
It’s fun. It really is. Your job is great. Mostly. Rather in theory. Unfortunately, it’s a bit different in reality, you’ve learnt that over the years. Sure, you’re still doing creative things but you have to stay focused on what customers want and most of them have a very specific vision.
Just like right now, you’re editing a few more scenes of an artist that just debuted and went through the roof with their album. But it’s not your type of music. You’ve always wanted to produce videos that are cinema worthy, that are their own special movie, that tell a story even if you turn off the melody of the song they’re portraying.
But this hasn’t happened so far.
Until you, still busy in your office, receive a mail from your boss.
Date: 01/12/23 Artist: 3RACHA Song: Gemstone
Fuck. You have to sit down for a bit. But you’re already seated. Your head gets dizzy, vision blurry. Overwhelming thoughts are streaming through your system.
3RACHA. Fucking 3RACHA. The indie band you’ve been listening to for over a year now. One could say that they gained success pretty quickly although that’s not right. They worked hard for what they are today and have improved themselves a lot in less than eighteen months.
Shit. You’re usually not a big fangirl. Well, that is wrong. You are. Everyone is. You are to a healthy amount—at least you believe so. Your friends might contradict that, especially when it’s about your affection to 3RACHA.
But they’ve helped you so much. Their lyrics warmth you on the coldest days, their tunes made you find a light in the dark and their overall personality—from what you know as a fan—made you feel confident throughout times that were filled with lots of insecurities.
And you have the chance to meet them. You can’t believe this is happening. You pinch yourself and realise it’s not a dream. You’re so shocked, you can’t even let out a little scream, although a bright smile is plastered all over your face.
You should text your best friend first. Tell him about it. He’s not the biggest fan of the band—which you can’t understand at all—but he’s happy when you’re happy so you’re sure he will be almost as excited as you are.
Grabbing your phone that’s lying next to your tea on the table, you open the messenger app and start typing.
[You 07:48]: YOU WON’T BELIEVE IT!!
[You 07:48]: I am actually losing my mind wtf
[You 07:48] Oh Lord I think I am hyperventilating shiiiit 😭😭
The three little dots appear and stay there for a while until you get a reply.
[Channie 🦘 07:49]: First of all, good morning. Second of all, I’m fine Y/N, thank you. How are you? Third of all, Jesus Christ, learn how to send one single message with multiple sentences it’s not that hard 😭
You can’t hold back a giggle. That is so typically him.
[You 07:50]: I’m sorry bub :((( didn’t want to upset you
Usually, Chan isn’t annoyed about stuff like this. But you’re still sorry you overwhelmed him a bit. You totally forgot how fucking early it is.
[Channie 🦘 07:52]: You didn’t, don’t worry, baby ❤️ so, do you want to tell me why you texted me?
Okay. Good. Well, except for the pet name that always manages to make your knees go weak. But now that you made sure everything is fine, you can finally drop the best announcement of the whole century. With one message, though.
[You 07:53] I am going to edit the video of the newest song of the one and only 3RACHA!!!! CAN YOU BELIEVE IT CHANNIE 😩🫠🥵🥵
Chan starts typing. He stops. He goes offline. Weird. You don’t read too much into it, as you check the mail another time. December 1st is already tomorrow. You wonder if someone else ditched them and you're solely the replacement but you don’t care.
A vibrating sound coming from your phone lets you snap your gaze back to the screen.
[Channie 🦘 07:56]: Oh that’s cool
Wow. No comment. You know he’s not quite convinced when it comes to your favourite artist. But Chan knows how much you love the band. Can’t he at least pretend to care a little more?
Well, he does care. That was a bit unfair. Chan is your number one hype man. Which makes his current reaction a bit odd.
However, you still send the text you typed.
[You 07:57]: Cool??? COOL?? BRO i’m gonna meet fucking CB97 !!! HELLO?? A little more excitement please
He takes a little longer with replying again, so you focus on your work in front of you. You can’t believe it’s already happening tomorrow. Your favourite band. A new song they are about to publish. This is crazy.
[Channie 🦘 07:59]: I’ve told you before I am not their biggest fan
You sigh, leaning back in your seat, before you reply.
[You 08:00]: Yeah because you have no taste old man
[You 08:00]: You remember what him being shirtless for like 1 sec in their last MV did to me?? How am I supposed to survive meeting him irl 😩😩😩
Most of the time, Chan doesn’t react to you simping for your favourite one of the group. Perhaps, because he’s not interested in them. Or he doesn’t like fangirling or you fangirling.
But this is just you drowning in your own pathetic delusion. Simping for a bassist and singer is one thing, having hopeless feelings for the man you’re texting right now is a whole other world.
Yeah. It’s a cliché, really. You don’t even know when it happened but it did. But of course you had to fall in love with none other than Chan.
CB97 kind of reminds you of your best friend. It’s dumb, you know that. It’s just something about their general behaviour. Even their voices sound alike—from what you can tell, after all, the artist always wears a wolf's mask and no one knows what the members look underneath their face covers anyway.
However, they are similar. So, it’s always been easy to compensate for your real life feelings by having heart eyes for a famous person. It has helped you so far—by ignoring how your friend’s presence lets your pulse rush at the speed of light.
And maybe, just maybe, your feelings are the reason you've been crushing on the celebrity, in order to get over Chan instead, since 3RACHA’s leader can’t break your heart if he doesn’t even know you exist.
[Channie 🦘 08:01]: … 🤨
[Channie 🦘 08:02]: I am very happy for you though, Y/N ❤️ This is a great chance and I bet it’s gonna be amazing!
You sigh again. He’s trying his best and you don’t blame him. You know that he means it and that’s what you love the most about your best friend—he will always support any of your choices.
Well, maybe not the one that’s included in your following text…
[You 08:03]: not wanting to sound delusional but i’m praying a little for my personal Y/N-moment 🥰🥰 maybe he will fall in love with me 🤩
He goes offline then and you wonder if you’ve crossed a line. You dearly hope he can tell you aren’t being serious.
Or, are you?
[Channie 🦘 08:05]: [attached image]
You open the file, almost falling down the chair while laughing.
[You 08:06]: Did you just send me a Stock photo of grass???
[Channie 🦘 08:07]: Yeah, go touch it, you sound like a crazy person
Understandable. Why’s he so funny without even trying?
Oh, God. Y/N. Focus. It’s not the best combination—CB97 simping hours mixed together with you crushing on Chan.
[You 08:07]: … yeah i deserved that
It’s time to focus on work again. However, that is supposed to be possible. You’ll probably be unable to even fall asleep tonight.
[You 08:08]: Anyway, I’m gonna go back to editing.. love youuu 💕💕
Your phone vibrates another time and you quickly read your best friend’s message before you lay the device aside and direct your gaze to the screen in front of you.
[Channie 🦘08:08]:  Love you too baby ❤️
🎸
The next day arrives faster than you would have expected. Between all the piled up working that’s always occuring during the last month of the year and all the other errands you have to run—such as shopping Christmas presents or preparing your apartment for all the upcoming festive dinners with friends and family—it’s understandable that time seems to fly by.
With another tea in one of your hands, phone in the other and your bag over your shoulder, you’ve made it out the subway station, currently on your way to the building of 3RACHA’s company. Shit. Your heart seems to be pumping out of your chest and you realise now you should have opted for a caffeine free drink.
Nevertheless, you walk inside and towards the reception. The woman there tells you to sit in the waiting room and you do as you’re told, sinking down on one of those velvety chairs. You pick out your phone, realising you’re more than twenty minutes too early here. But better than being late, right?
Fuck. You’re feel like you’re hyperventilating again. Your palms are sweaty and your knees are weak, a typical sign of nervousness spreading all over your body. You can feel your pulse rushing through your system, as you try to push away all those negative thoughts about the upcoming meeting.
What if they’re not as kind as they seem to be in all those interviews you’ve watched? Don’t people say you should never meet your idol? What if they’re right?
Or worse—what if 3RACHA is actually as awesome as they seem to be and they think you're not cool? Or annoying? Or too much?
Oh, God. Calm down, Y/N. It’s gonna be fine. No doubt.
You decide to text Chan now, knowing he always manages to use the fitting words in situations like these. No matter if it is pure comfort or finding a solution together, your best friend always knows what to say to help you out of a rollercoaster ride of emotions.
So, you send him a message.
[You 12:37]: Channie… I am so nervous. What do I do?? What if they think I am annoying or stupid…
Another one follows, although you know he doesn’t like this type of texting.
[You 12:38]: I know I sometimes go overboard with my fangirling but I really admire them the most for their music… them not liking me would break my heart
Nervously, you stare at your screen. Your gaze flips up towards the reception from time to time, while you also check out all the doors that you see, waiting for someone to pick you up. You can’t wait anymore.
Buzz.
[Channie 🦘 12:40]: Baby, listen… it’s gonna be amazing, I promise. You’re the most talented video editor in this world and they wouldn’t have hired you if you weren’t. You’ve got the chance to meet your favourite artists so just try to not read too much into it. It’s gonna be fine ❤️
Fuck. He’s done it again. Chan just knows what’s right for you, what you need to hear when you don’t even know it.
That idiot makes you fall in love with him even more. Now that you’re about to meet CB97, you won’t be able to continue crushing on him the way you do. In that fangirl style. You’re sure you’ll still be admiring him but possibly in a different way, depending on how he is in real life.
It would be weird, right? Fantasising about that guy? Having explicit ideas and all?
God. You push those thoughts aside and decide to answer your friend instead.
[You 12:41]: Okay… thank you 💕 maybe we can get some ice cream after your shift? And I can tell you about it… unless I am annoying with it
Hopefully, Chan’s work will be over at that time. He told you he won’t be at his office for so long today, so meeting up and having him calm you down after sounds like a good idea.
[Channie 🦘 12:42]: Ice cream date it is! and you’re never annoying me, Y/N. I am happy to see you being happy and that’s all that counts. Fighting!! 🤞🏻
Okay. Good. You have something to look forward to, just in case that everything goes down the drain.
[You 12:43]: 🥺🥺🥰
Around fifteen minutes later, an employee calls out your name and brings you to a computer office, telling you to wait for the three musicians. Your heartbeat is still unreasonably fast but it’s gotten a little better. The thought of seeing Chan later really helped you ease your mind.
A clicking sound indicates that the door of the room is opening and a moment later, three men appear behind it. They bow and you do the same, before they sink down on the chairs that are surrounding the table you’re already sitting at.
Two of them—J.One and SpearB—take off their masks, complaining how warm it’s inside here despite the extremly cold weather outside. However, winter temperature doesn’t hold the youngest of them, their guitarist, back from drinking an iced americano. You’re surprised they revealed their faces so quickly. But then again, you had to lock away your phone in the beginning anyway. So, you won’t be able to take photos of them in secret—which you weren’t going to do. You’re a professional, no matter how big of a fan Y/N, the private person, is.
“I feel so honoured to be working for you,” you try to break the ice then.
The three of them give you a smile—except for CB97 since he is still wearing his mask. Weird. Maybe he’s caught a cold or simply doesn’t feel comfortable yet. He’s usually the most confident of the group, especially when it comes to showing off his body in music videos. Well, just give him some time.
3RACHA goes over their concept with you, explaining in detail which storyline and aesthetic they are going for. It sounds amazing. Incredible. It’s a miracle that these men aren’t only absolutely talented in anything music but also seem to have a clear vision of something that sounds as if it should be in a cinema. You seriously hope you will be able to live up to their expectations.
Time passes by, Jisung is ordering iced americanos after iced americanos for you online. He’s a funny guy—the two of you have instantly gotten along. He jokes around, encourages you to try stuff when it comes to editing and makes you sincere compliments for your skills. The same counts for Changbin. It feels as if he’s having quite a hard time taking his eyes off you. You seriously don’t want to read anything into it.
But the fact you’ve had some thoughts about these three that you now feel a little embarrassed about, doesn’t make it any easier sitting here with them. They are so attractive—not only look wise but mostly blamed on their incredible talent and the way they make you feel comfortable around them despite not really knowing you.
It’s as if you’ve known each other for years, as if you have been friends for some time, although you’re here for work reasons to edit their music video.
The only one who falls off that scheme is CB97. He hasn’t talked that much to you so far, only ever staying business related. He does take you seriously, it’s not like that but for some reason it feels as if he’s trying his best to avoid you.
It breaks your heart a little. Now being with them you know you weren’t really serious about waiting for your ‘Y/N-moment’ but it still stings a little that he’s doing anything to not speak to you more than what’s necessary—all meanwhile Changbin and Jisung are already sharing their interests and personal thoughts with them although it’s just been a few hours.
“You’re so skilled, Y/N,” Jisung compliments you, when you hit the ‘play’ button another time to go over a scene with them. Half of the video is roughly done by now. Of course, video editing is time consuming like nothing else but if you’re lucky, you’re gonna have a rough outline at the end of the day.
“We should book you for all our future projects,” Changbin adds.
You instantly feel heat creep up to your face. Getting to work for 3RACHA once has already been a dream. You’ve never expected them to adore what you do so much that they would seriously consider letting you edit another video of theirs.
“What do you think, CB?” Jisung asks.
“Yeah. Good idea,” the leader respons.
Still no fucking emotion. But you stopped reading too much into it. It’s okay. It’s more than fine. There’s probably a reason for his weird absence that isn’t caused by you. Who knows what’s going on in his distracted head.
“I mean,” Jisung starts again, severly confused about the behaviour of his older friend as well, “you were the one to initiate that deal but you’ve been so quiet since–“ Flick. CB97’s finger hits the side of J.One’s head. “Ouch, what the fuck?”
The leader gives the other one a strict look and you would wonder what on earth is going on if you weren’t so busy focusing on a very certain detail.
CB97 was the one who decided to have you as their editor.
You thought it was just their company hiring you or hiring someone from your company.
How the hell did he even find you?
“Oh, you were the one to set this up?”
“Yes,” he replies and it’s the first time his eyes actually meet your own for a brief second.
“Thank you so much, I feel so honoured.”
He gives you a warm smile. You still can’t see his mouth but you can see the kindness in his eyes. They look comforting. They look… almost familiar but you can’t quite put it yet.
“J.One and I have to head to the studio in a few minutes,” Changbin announces.
“Right, the appointment,” the youngest replies.
They get up all of a sudden and collect all their stuff. J.One is busy throwing away an endless amount of plastic cups. God, that guy’s caffeine addiction is in fact no joke.
“Ah, right,” CB97 says, “Y/N and I will take care of the rest. It’s okay.”
You gulp. Fuck. Does that mean you’ll stay here alone? Alone with none other than your celebrity crush CB97?
In the blink of an eye, the speed of your heart increases, your pumping pulse echoing through your body like the beat of the sound of the music video.
You can do this, Y/N. It’s gonna be okay.
“Is that alright with you?” he adds when he sees the unreadable look on your face.
“Hm?”
“Being here alone with me,” he explains. “We can also take a break, if you need one.”
“N-No. It’s fine. No break. It’s okay,” you tell him.
“Sure.”
You get back to work. A few minutes pass before the musician finally decides to scoot a little closer to you. He blames it on the fact that it’s easier editing this way but it’s also pretty weird that he’s been sitting so far away from you.
This is when you take in a deep breath and your nostrils get hit with a whiff of familiarity.
That cologne. That scent. You’ve smelled that somewhere before.
It is very close to the one that your best friend wears. It’s a pretty popular one. Chan once told you that he knows a bunch of guys who use the same fragrance. It gives you comfort, knowing that CB97 wears it, too. It reminds you of Chan. It makes you feel at home. Safe.
“It was the right decision to hire you for the job,” the artist says out of the blue.
“Thank you so much,” you reply. “How did you find me, by the way?”
You’ve been wondering since J.One accidentally dropped that their leader chose you for this job.
“I did some research,” he explains. “Came across your previous works and there’s just… just something about how you use colours in videos. It amazes me how you manage to tell a whole story just with a few frames.”
You give him a smile and he does the same. You can tell by the way of his eyes turning into crescents. 
The look… It reminds you of your best friend. Once again.
“Thank you.”
He scoots a bit closer, catching a glimpse of the scene that is being repeated on the big screen over and over again.
“In my opinion, a music video is perfect if it can be a standalone without the song itself. And you seem to achieve that every time,” he compliments you.
“I don’t know what to say…”
CB97 chuckles.
Oddly familiar.
That laugh. It sounds like…
No. There’s no way he could be…
Drop that dumb idea, Y/N. You sound like a crazy person.
There is no way that CB97, 3RACHA’s leader and your celebrity crush, and Bang Chan, your best friend and real life crush, could be the same person.
“There’s no need to say anything,” the man next to you says, rushing you out of your thoughts. “I’m sorry I was rather quiet in the beginning.”
It makes sense. Well, if you pick up that theory again. If CB97 is Chan, then that’s the explanation for him appearing quite inapproachable. 
However, you don’t want to think about this.
If this was true, you seriously wouldn’t know how to react. At all. Would you be mad at him for lying? Would you wonder if he only chose to book you because he knows you and not because of your talent? Would he be disgusted after all the unhinged and delusional comments you made about the musician that he is supposed to be?
Fuck. You feel your head get dizzy. Meanwhile, CB97 is staring back at you, puppy eyes telling you he is plagued by second guesses, too. You don’t know if it's because your assumptions are true or on what he said almost a minute ago.
Right. He’s waiting for an answer.
“No worries,” you quickly add.
The man gives you a soft smile with his eyes, before he shuffles in his seat and turns on another lamp that is placed on top of the desk. It lets the room shroud in a yellowish tone, turning the place a bit warmer.
You can get a better look of him now, too. Those dark curls hidden under a cap, the mask still covering his face, a black sweater hugging his upper body with a little print that looks like—a strawberry?
Strawberry.
Chan owns a sweater like this, too. You bought it together some months ago. Sure, it was at a fast fashion store a lot of young people go to but… shit, those can’t be sheer coincidences, right?
“My best friend has a similar sweater!” you blurt out then, unsure what to expect from him. Even if all those guesses turn out to be wrong, your comment sounded rather… random.
“Oh, cool,” CB97 answers, caught off guard, he can’t deny it.
“There’s… another scene on today’s list,” he starts again, changing the topic. The man scoots a bit closer, reaching for the computer mouse, before he opens another file. There in front of your eyes is an unedited video from their day of filming—it’s his part of the story, he’s performing it in the—quite artificial—moonlight. In the rain. Absolutely shirtless.
“That shot is… wow…”
CB97 chuckles, you can hear it through his mask. Fuck. It plays with his head, a little. He can’t deny it. It also shoots a sensation down to his cock that shouldn’t be there, but he’s a man after all. A man that is very much attracted to you.
When you first came into the studio today, absolutely shy—unlike how you usually are around him in private—he couldn’t take his eyes off you. It was hard. Painfully hard. Just how his dick is threatening to become if he doesn’t manage to focus on something else.
But, shit. You were so cute. So freaking adorable. He would be lying if it didn’t do something to him, whenever you have talked about your celebrity crush the way you do—unaware that it’s your best friend whom you’re simping for.
That’s what at the same time leaves a bitter aftertaste, too. Maybe it’s even the main reason why Chan hasn’t been able to be honest with you about his secret identity yet. 3RACHA started out as a joke between friends, after all. Jisung, Changbin and him would have never expected to become so successful, let alone gain so much fame in such a quick time.
Faster than he was able to tell you about it, you had already been head over heels for his alter ego. CB97. He wanted to share that plot twist with you, really. But at some point he became insecure.
What if you’re only attracted to the artist? Not to Chan, the private person? What if you’re not actually attracted to him at all? What if you don’t return those stupid little feelings he’s had for you for years now?
This could destroy your friendship and so much more.
And even if he was the luckiest guy on this earth, even if you felt the same for him—what about those obsessed fangirls? Chan can’t do this to you—date you and keep it a secret. He’s always wanted to show you off, tell the whole world that you belong to him once the time is right and his dreams come true.
But… that can’t work. You deserve something better. You deserve someone better. Someone that can take care of you. Someone who has enough time for you. Someone who can treat you the way you have always hoped for.
Chan can’t do this. And it breaks his heart every damn time only thinking about it.
“The tattoo… is it… a strawberry?”
His vision goes blank. Time stands still, as you drag him out of his inner monologue.
Fuck.
Shit.
No.
How could he not think this through? Of course, you were gonna see that stupid tattoo. It was just a matter of fucking time.
Did Chan even think… at all? That whole situation, that whole set-up of bringing you here was destined to be doomed. He’s so stupid. But he can’t think straight whenever you’re around him.
Maybe it was his inner desire, his endless feelings for you that made him come up with a dumb plan like this.
But he’s here now. And you’re on the finish line of connecting the dots, of counting two and two together.
“I– yeah…”
It’s inevitable. It doesn’t matter now anyway. It is what it is.
You take a closer look, hit rewind on a certain frame that shows the little strawberry quite detailed, almost in 4K. It’s the same placement. The same thin fine lines. The same shade of red. The same fucking tattoo.
“It looks like… it…” No. This can’t be. Still, as if you're on autopilot, you avert your gaze towards the man next to you.
“Chan?”
Immeditaly, he finally takes his mask off, revealing your best friend behind it.
“Hi, Y/N.”
He can’t be for real.
He can’t be for fucking real.
You feel weird. You feel confused. You feel embarrassed. You feel everything at once.
Your body moves for you, when you stand up and grab your bag, already heading towards the door of the studio.
“Y/N–“ you hear Chan call from behind you.
“Leave me alone. I– Just– Fuck.”
The next second he sees you storm out the room, he knows he’s absolutely fucked up, neck deep down in shit.
He’s such an idiot.
🎸 
Of course, rain finds you before you reach your apartment. You still manage to make it inside, before you strip off the drenched clothes and throw them in the washing machine. Grabbing the rest of your dirty laundry, you turn the thing on. You hop under the shower next, internally screaming as the thoughts keep running in circles.
How the fuck are you supposed to look him in the eyes again?
You simped for his alter ego in front of him on a level that needs a word stronger than just ‘delusional’. You feel so absolutely embarrassed of this whole situation. And on top of that, you feel hurt about the fact that Chan didn’t trust you enough to tell you about his side business.
You feel dizzy. Nauseous. This is getting too much.
Exiting the shower, you put on some random shirt and sweatpants, before you head back towards the living room. That’s when your brain starts babbling again.
Too many thoughts are running through your mind at this second. Is this the end of your friendship? Will you ever see him again?
Well, to be fair, you were the one who stormed out of the building of Chan’s entertainment. The emotions just washed all over you, flight mode kicking in instead of fight mode.
God. You can’t focus.
Is it really that bad?
Like rationally thinking—which you are not capable of at current times—maybe the situation isn’t as bad as it seems.
Let’s place the cards on the table. Chan, your best friend, your crush, is also CB97, the famous rockstar, your other crush.
Is there a way that this friendship or whatever it could evolve into can survive? He lied to you—well, not entirely, he rather kept it a secret but you also understand that it probably was to protect himself. However, it stings a little, knowing that he doesn’t trust you enough to share his other identity with you.
You’ve always thought that you can tell each other everything. You tell him everything. Well, except for the fact that you are madly in love with him but this is just to protect yourself–oh.
Maybe you get it a little, maybe you will understand once the angers has vanished away from you and–
Knock knock.
Your body paralyses. It’s always been like this whem someone shows up at your apartment unannounced. It’s silly, it really is. But your pulse always picks up its pace when that noise creeps into your ears.
You don’t react. You simply can’t.
Knock knock.
For fuck’s sake, you’re supposed to handle your overwhelming emotions here you can’t experience more anxiety because some neighbour annoys you–
“It’s me. Please, let me in.”
Oh. Yeah, of course. Why on earth didn’t you take into consideration that your best friend might show up?
“Y/N… please, I can explain.”
You sigh, contemplating what’s the best way to react. But you won’t be able to escape this situation forever. Maybe letting him speak what’s on his mind will be okay.
“Fine.”
You open the door and let him in. Chan is carrying a big brown paper bag that he places on the dining table of your studio apartment.
“Strawberry cheesecake and strawberry oat latte. For you,” he explains with a small but soft voice. “Oh—and your phone. You forgot that.”
The device meets the table as well while Chan’s eyes hover through the room before they connect with your own.
“You can’t buy my trust,” you say. “Although, that is a start.”
Chan lets his head sink down. A couple of seconds later, his palms meet his face, gesturing how overwhelmed he must be by the situation.
Fuck. He wishes he could turn back time. Tell you earlier about who he really is. You must feel like shit. Probably embarrassed about all the unhinged stuff you said about his alter ego although this has never been an issue to him.
The more important part is that you probably believe that Chan can’t trust you. That’s what it looks like at least. But it’s not at all what it is. The story is a lot more complex, a lot more complicated.
Chan hides his persona to both protect himself but also you. After all, he knows what it’s like to live life being a public figure. It’s nothing at all what most people think it is. It’s a lot darker, a lot more stressful, actually.
“I’m sorry. I know,” he starts then, breaking the ice again after a long pause of zoning out in his own worries. “I should have been honest with you from the beginning but the whole thing isn’t as easy.”
You don’t get it. You seriously don’t. If there’s someone Chan can trust, it’s you, isn’t it?
“Why isn’t it? I wouldn’t have told anyone. I would have kept it a secret, you know?”
Does he maybe believe that you would have spread it around? Told other friends about it? Maybe his parents? Or others?
God, this sounds as if Chan has an Only Fans that he hides from the public when he’s just a guy doing indie rock music, occasionally shirtless.
“That’s not it, Y/N. It’s more complicated and fucking complex than this,” he says through gritted teeth.
He’s not mad at you. He’s mostly mad at himself and this society.
“What is it then?”
“Fans… rumours… insane people talking shit about you. If they once see us together and draw that connection, it’s over.”
His voice is a little louder now but you don’t complain. You get that he’s emotional.
“We’ve been out in public together before,” you say. 
You don’t understand how this could be an issue? 
“I’d love to take you to all the events with me, though. Now that you know about me. But this isn’t an option.”
Shit. Your heart melts a little. He can’t say shit like that. Why does Chan even want you to be at events with him when you’re not his… partner?
“It’s okay… I don’t expect that from you. It’s fine how it’s been,” you reply, meaning it. You would never pressure him into anything like this. His safety comes first.
“What if people find out? What if they… harm you because you’re part of my life?”
You gulp. Maybe Chan has been hiding his identity not only to protect himself but also to protect you.
“But we… aren’t even a couple, Chan.”
Unfortunately.
“What are they supposed to say about us being just friends?”
The words just friends and the sad truth that connects to them enlighten a stinging pain in Chan’s heart.
“It wasn’t bad in the beginning but once we got more recognition, the fans went insane,” he explains.
You chuckle. Embarrassed. Shit, you have to think back to all the crazy stuff you said about CB97. And his abs. His arms. How you’d allow him to rail you into oblivion—yes, you said shit like that to Chan, unaware you are talking about your best friend.
God. A shiver runs down your spine and you want the ground to open up and swallow you as a whole.
“Yeah. I know. I am part of them.”
You try to avoid his gaze, it’s uncomfortable enough already. Fuck. Chan probably thinks you’re a weirdo. A freak. A pervert. You would have never shared those unholy thoughts if you knew that they were secretly about him.
Well, it’s not as if you’ve only ever had those dreams about CB97—they don’t differ a lot from the fantasies you have about Chan. But you for sure won’t tell him that either.
“No, on that level it’s fun and all,” he reassures you and you feel a bit of the weight drop off your shoulder. Okay, at least he doesn’t think you’re a bad person. “But there are dangerous ones, too. They would even get angry for us just being friends and considering that I–“
“That, what?”
For fuck’s sake, why did you interrupt him?
“N-Nothing,” he lets out.
“Chan… what were you going to say? Where’s the issue in us being friends? They don’t even know what you look like.”
That’s the thing. Why would there be a problem with you leaving the house with him and being in public? You’ve been doing this before, as well. No one knows how CB97 looks like behind that wolf’s face.
“Some fans do… we used to take off our masks in earlier days. We stopped though once we got more famous. But some fans from the beginning will recognise us, probably.”
Oh. Well. That explains his anxiety. It might be just a few but from what he tells you, maybe they are capable of things that you can’t even imagine. Your heart suddenly increases its beat, thinking that your best friend might be in danger at any time, given the fact that some psychos might be his ‘fans’.
However, this still doesn’t explain what the whole situation has to do with you. This is a struggle he faces without you knowing of his rockstar life.
“But why do you care that much about me?”
Because I love you, Y/N, and you don’t seem to realise.
“I want to protect you… I– what if…”
“What if?”
God, Y/N, can you let the boy speak? He will never finish a whole sentence when you keep interrupting him.
He sighs, “What if… one day, being just friends with you… isn’t enough for me anymore?”
The earth stops.
Your heart stops.
Everything stops.
If one day being just friends isn’t enough for me anymore?
Chan said it. He just said it. He let it out and now he has to face the consequences of you not returning his–
“When will one day be?”
He blinks. Maybe there’s a chance for a happy ending. Maybe.
“It’s been for a few years,” he confesses.
“Chan…”
“Just forget what I–“
“No. Listen to me now.” His eyes find yours again. “I… me fangirling for CB97… I’ve always liked him so much because he reminded me of y-you…ironic, I know… a-and I thought that if I direct my feelings towards a celebrity that I don’t have a chance with anyway, I will forget about how much I’m in love with my best friend…”
Chan is the happiest man on this planet. No, screw that. He’s the happiest man in this whole fucking universe.
Can someone pinch him? Wake him up from this dream he’s dreamt a thousand times before?
“I’m in love with you, too, Y/N.”
God. You’re always pretty. But nothing comes close to the beauty you’re carrying when you smile at him like you do right now.
“This still doesn’t solve all the issues with you being a celebrity–“
“We will find a solution. I promise, baby. Nothing can come between us.”
Huh?
How did he switch from being an anti to full supporter of the idea of you and him together? Fairly speaking, he’s never been against it at all, rather just scared of turning this dream of his into reality and all the consequences he must face when it comes to the love for you.
“How do we make sure that… nothing happens?”
“First of all, I’ll protect you,” he reassures you. “Second of all, we communicate like we always do. If something gets too much for you, you tell me.”
For some reason you’re not convinced yet. He seemed so serious of not wanting to cause you any trouble linked to him. It seems weird, if you’re honest to yourself.
“But… you were so hesitant and against this just a few minutes ago? Where’s that one hundred and eighty degree turn coming from?”
You see him sigh. Chan looks nervous. Almost more nervous than he was when dropping the bomb about his years-long obsession that differs a lot from innocent platonic feelings.
"That's because I’m a fucking coward, Y/N. I didn’t want to risk both losing you because of my secret identity and the feelings I thought you didn’t return.”
Fuck. It actually makes sense, now that he explains it. You understand why he wanted to make sure first that it’s worth it fighting. It may sound a little egoistic but you get where it’s coming from. After all, you haven’t confessed until today either and if Chan didn’t finally unwrap that elephant in the room you’d still be waiting here for him to make a first move years from now.
“Oh… yeah, I get what you mean.”
He gets a little closer, shaky fingers now intertwined with your own. They feel both cold and warm at the same time, reflecting the ups and downs of the rollercoaster of emotions he’s riding.
“But I promise,” he continues, “I fucking promise that I will always protect you. Nothing comes between us, ever. You’re the most important person in my life.”
“You’re quite okay, too,” you joke.
He chuckles, cocking his head, “Brat.”
That stupid smirk of his instantly shoots a sensation to your belly, butterflies dancing together because of that slightest gesture. But when Chan starts speaking again, your attention shifts back to the current conversation.
“I’ve also wanted to tell you that it isn’t entirely true that I was the one to hire you. My boss saw a video you edited and we both agreed on asking your company to invite you.”
You’re a little relieved now. You’ve been wondering if you’ve only been hired for the job because of your connection to Chan and this kind of crushed your ego, if you’re honest.
“Thank you for telling me this,” you genuinely reply.
“Yeah.”
His gaze roams all over your face, searching for something.
“Hm,” you let out.
He looks determined and distracted at the same time. His heart is beating out of his chest, intense pressure threatening to rip the sweater apart that is covering his upper body.
“What are you thinking about, Chan?”
You can’t take it anymore. Giving him a little nudge, you’re sure he’ll be able to tell whatever he’s thinking about.
He sighs, “Can I please just kiss you?”
You chuckle. How can someone be so adorable and absolutely hot at the same time?
“What are you waiting for?”
His lips feel so soft pressed against yours. For a moment you’re convinced time stands still, your surroundings becoming a blur, as your heart decides that nothing else matters anymore when your best friend finally kisses you.
After all these years. All these nights you dreamt about being like this with him. It finally becomes reality. But none of those imaginations come even remotely close to the real deal.
His lips feel soft. Although his kisses are anything but that. Tongue grazing over your mouth, you invite him in, allowing Chan to take the lead, while his firm body forces you against the dining table, all on autopilot. You let him. You don’t care about anything anymore.
Not when he’s roughly nibbling at your lower lip with his teeth, grunts slipping out of him, when he tastes you. Fuck. He’s only been kissing you, nothing more but he can already feel his pants tightening whenever one of those sweet moans leaves you. Chan is a man after all. A man that desires to have you under him, a man that desires nothing more than to ruin you in the best way possible.
You seem to catch on, when he leans a little closer, pushing you on top of the furniture. Spreading your legs, you tell him you need him near and he complies. His firm crotch is pressed against your covered pussy and you let out a whimper. Chan swears this is the most stunning melody his ears have ever witnessed and he realises in that moment that he’ll never be able to create a song that comes even close to that beauty that is your voice.
Your voice that is so desperate. For him. Only him. At least he finds out, when your hands reach under his sweater. You admire the little strawberry for a second, feeling like a total fool for not counting two and two together so much sooner. Chan and you aren’t ruled by the trope of best friends to lovers, you’re total idiots to lovers. But it doesn’t matter.
The fabric gets hovered over his head, leaving him shirtless. You’ve seen him like this before. Chan isn’t necessarily shy when it comes to showing off his perfect body but it’s a little more intense when he’s so close to you now.
“Wow…” is all you’re able to say.
He chuckles, before he dives in for another kiss and lets his hands travel under your shirt as well. It doesn’t take him long to pull that clothing off you either, after all you don't really fight it. Why would you?
And that’s when the unexpected happens. His lips crash into the skin on your neck, rough bites being placed there, the feeling shooting through your whole body, enlightening the deepest desire hiding underneath.
When Chan looks back at you, you witness the pure lust swirling in his eyes before your mind basically turns blank.
Why is that?
Well, you’ve lost track of time but Chan’s fingers have found their way between your thighs, brushing over your clothed core. It’s kind of cute how you’re staining the material of your sweatpants. Your best friend finds it adorable, really, how easily you seem to crumble underneath him. It makes him want to corrupt you, let out the darkest yearning that must slumber deeply inside of you.
His other hand wastes no time and pulls the fabric down, leaving you in your underwear. All that brat does is chuckle, before his fingertips wander back to their destination again. He grazes over your sensitive spot, admiring the wet patch he seemed to have caused from doing so little.
He can’t help it but let this mischevious smirk appear on his face again. It makes you witness his dimples, too. And you would pay a little more attention to them if your thoughts weren’t occupied by how good it feels to have Chan so close to you. You whimper, when he slows down his movements, rubbing your clit through the fabric, as you feel yourself grow wetter and wetter.
“So fucking sensitive,” he grunts. Fuck. Chan’s been dreaming about this moment for years. He can’t believe it’s actually reality now.
And when yet another moan spills from your lips, he finally decides to free you from that drenched barrier. You watch your panties collide with the floor, landing somewhere on top of the shirts—and leaving you bare naked in front of him. Chan mumbles some curse words under his breath, before he manages to speak a sentence, “Stop me, now– or I won’t be able to hold myself back anymore–“
“But I don’t want you to hold back…”
That smirk on your face is the cherry on top that break him. Chan’s lips smash into yours, his body coming closer, making you spread your legs for him. His hand is back right between them, playing a little with your clit, this time without any disturbing layer that’s separating you from one another.
“More… Chan– more, please.”
He finds it adorable how you’re begging for him, so two fingers slide into your hole just as you’ve wished for. They stretch you out perfectly, you’re immediately clenching around them before the man in front of you starts thrusting them in and out of you.
“F-Feels so good, fuck,” you let out, throwing your head back.
Suddenly, he pulls his fingers out of your aching hole again, before he guides them to his mouth. They disappear, as he licks your scent off his skin, a groan escaping his lips.
“Fuck– you taste as sweet as candy, baby.”
You, in the meantime, graze over the strawberry tattoo on his chest with your fingertips, as a little smirk appears on your lips.
“You have no idea how fucking much I want you.”
“Then do something about it,” you challenge him.
“Are you sure, baby?”
His demeanour switches. You adore this confident, dominant type of Chan but there’s something about him turning all soft just to make sure you’re feeling alright.
“One hundred percent.”
It takes him less than three seconds to free himself from both his sweatpants and boxers, as he lets the fabrics slide down. The clothing pools around his ankles, as he doesn't want to waste any more time. Chan is impatient. Fucking impatient.
Yes, he’s waited for this moment for years but having the taste of being inside you so close to him, within reach of his fingertips, he realises he can’t bear a second without having you.
Meanwhile—your eyes are fixated on his beautiful body, roaming around, taking a glance of his muscular thighs, his pretty cock, back up to his firm chest and the little strawberry.
“Like what you’re seeing?”
Cheesy.
You slowly let your hand find his upper body again, before it wanders down, dangerously close to where he needs you the most. Wrapping a hand around his length, you start stroking him, bringing your eyes back to his.
He already looks fucked out and for some reason it’s adorable. Chan is always this respectful, caring best friend—totally opposite to how he behaves in his music videos and you wonder how long it takes for him to reveal his true, animalistic nature.
A sweet whimper that he lets out is barely the beginning and when Chan notices how innocently you’re staring at him, oh so opposite to what you’re doing right now, he fears he might cum at the spot. So, to stretch out some time and to make sure this is a little more comfortable for the both of you, he grabs you by the waist without a warning, spins you around until he’s carrying you bridal style to your bed.
Your back hits the mattress and you have no time to get used to your surroundings, when Chan is already towering over you—hungry for more. Parting your legs again, you invite him to come closer. He positions himself right between your thighs, pumping his length a few more times before he asks, “Condom?”
“First d-drawer,” you reply, voice shaking—out of excitement.
“Are you nervous, baby?”
You’re not sure if he’s teasing you or genuinely worried you might regret this.
“No, just really fucking horny, Chan and I swear if you don’t–“
“What a brat you are,” he intervenes, clicking his tongue.
Painfully slowly, he reaches towards the nightstand table next to your bed, getting closer to you and placing a soft kiss on your lips—you believe your heart might melt in a second.
“You… you make me a brat…”
You know exactly what you’re doing. You’re such a bad liar, it’s unbelievable. Your best friend comes back to his previous decision, unwrapping the plastic before he glides the condom onto his dick.
Chan scoffs, thinking about what you just said, before a little chuckle follows, “Be a good girl for me, baby, hm?”
You hastily nod, finally giving in, as you allow him to push the first few centimetres inside you. It takes a little time to get used to the feeling—you won’t lie, it's been some time since you’ve been intimate with someone.
“You okay, sweetheart?”
“Y-Yeah,” you stutter. “I– I haven’t… uhm… in a long time.”
A gentle kiss gets placed on your cheek.
“I’ll be careful, okay?”
You nod again, before you tell him to add more and he slides completely in. Chan pulls out of you, just to repeat the process again—now filling you completely, tight wet walls hugging his throbbing cock, begging him to move.
So, he does exactly that, starting with slower motions, waiting for you to get used to the feeling. Chan can’t deny it—you’re tight, tighter than he would have expected so he makes extra sure to give you enough time to stretch, to get used to his length.
“Fuck–“ you curse under your breath, “feels so god damn good.”
All he does is chuckle and add another kiss on your cheek, before he picks up the pace a little. You’ve lost track of time by now, absolutely deluded in the feeling of him stuffing you full of his cock, brushing that certain spot from time to time, whenever he changes the angle a little.
Chan decides to place your legs over his shoulders, which helps him fuck even deeper into you, threatening your vision to get blinded by stars anytime soon. Your attention shifts somewhere else, when you notice the palm of his hand lying flat against your lower belly, grazing over the bulge that’s right there.
“Look, darling, we’re made for each other,” he tells you.
You hastily nod, letting a chain of moans slip out of your mouth, lips staying parted. Chan has already ruined you for anyone else, nothing matters anymore.
And whenever the man above you witnesses that fucked out look on your face, it drives him closer to his own relief as well.
“Chan– need–“
He hastily nods, bringing two fingers close to where your bodies meet. He flicks them over your sensitive nub, rubbing your clit to the rhythm of his hips moving. Chan keeps rutting into you, hitting your sweet spot so deliciously that you fear you might faint for a second.
“Please, please, please,” you beg for nothing in particular.
But Chan knows exactly what you need which is why he continues his movements, catching your lips with his own, before he whispers, “Be a good girl, baby, and cum all over my cock, yeah? Can you do that for me?”
And you do. The pleasure takes over you, spreads through your whole body when he lets you tip over the edge. The stars are finally blurring out anything else, tears are pricking at your lower lash line, while you cry out your best friend’s name as if it’s the only word you’ve ever known.
Chan helps you ride out your high, slowing down a little until you give him a sign to continue.
“Well done, baby…”
God. You might as well cum again, if he doesn’t stop praising you.
“You’re so good at this,” you compliment him now, knowing this is exactly what he needs to hear.
Your predictions turn out to be true—a few more thrusts and whimpers and Chan fills the condom with his seeds, moaning out your name. The sweetest melody your ears have ever witnessed.
Heavy breathing fills the room, as your eyes find his own. Smiles erupt on your faces before giggles follow.
Without a word, Chan pulls out of you and discards the condom. He comes back with a warm towel from the bathroom, cleaning you from your own juices, and a glass of water from the kitchen. He doesn’t leave until you’ve chugged down all of the liquid.
A few more minutes later and you find yourself under the covers with him, dressed in fresh pyjamas, just like him. Chan is playing with your hair, almost dozing off into sleep, but he wakes up again when you kiss him on the cheek.
“I love you,” you say.
“I love you too, Y/N.”
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❤️ AUTHOR’S NOTE: thank you so much for reading this little spin off! I actually planned to include this in a series as it was supposed to be a hannah montana inspired story HAHAHHA anyway, since I didn’t manage to finish that series, I decided to still publish this one! Also, because I felt like Chan deserved his own lil story in the Topline universe. Stay tuned for what I have in store for Binnie! 🤭 I really hope you enjoyed this story. Ngl, it was kinda hard finishing this time, mostly due to personal issues so it took me longer than I would have liked and I wished some scenes would be… better. But I still hope you enjoyed this fic. I really like the mc in this, she’s a bit different from what I usually write and very similar to all of us simps on this website lmao XD If you enjoyed this story, please consider leaving a kind comment and/or reblogging it. Unfortunately, likes don’t really matter on this app and I am dying to know what you think about this story! Have a nice day and thank you for being here!
© j-0ne25 2023 | copying, translating or stealing my work is prohibited
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ch4nb4ng · 5 months
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231118: LALALALA (FanCam) — hyunjin.
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ch4nb4ng · 5 months
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STAN
CHAPTER [I] of CASE 143 — [18+!]
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“You’re probably my favourite person around here, so if someone threatens you, I’m automatically involved, too.”
“Sir, I–“
“Y/N, we’re not at work,” he reminds you. “You don’t have to address me like this.”
You nod, “Oh, sure—but Chan, there’s nothing to worry about, really.”
“I will protect you nonetheless,” he assures you.
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🔍 SYNOPSIS: On top of overworking yourself and taking care of your brother who’s in the middle of his divorce, anonymous hate threats reach you. Luckily, your good friend and boss is there to ease your mind—maybe in an unconventional way…
🔖 CONTENT INFO: chan x afab reader, hyunjin x afab reader, jisung x afab reader; angst/smut/fluff; detectives/crime au, they are all detectives, chief inspector chan, ex boyfriend hyunjin, best friend and detective partner jisung, step brother minho, reader has adhd, they are all flawed characters; possible hints to brooklyn 99 and eminem lyrics; help why does it look as if chan is staring at the cat (aka dori) in the pics above lmao; warnings and smut tags under the cut (include spoilers)
📋 WORD COUNT: 10.3K
📸 WARNING: anonymous threats and hate messages, implied stalking, mention of criminal activities (duh they are detectives), topics of unrequited love, brief mention of cheating, mental health topics such as adhd, mention of divorce and heartbreak (reader’s brother), alcohol consumption, slut shaming
⛓️ SMUT: dom/sub dynamics, semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), semi-protected piv, choking (f receiving), hair pulling (m receiving), slight marking (f receiving), slightest spit play, praise, slightest degrading, name calling (good boy, babygirl, sweetheart)
📦 SPOTIFY PLAYLIST
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Your tea’s gone cold. You’re wondering why.
Why you.
Why now.
Why did you get out of bed at all if you have to deal with bullshit like this?
You know your job is tough. Maybe one of the toughest out there but never in five years of working here, you’ve experienced something like this.
Once more your eyes hover over the bright screen, flashing shut when they get on one level with the first message.
‘Your work as a police officer makes my head hurt. Genuinely, you can’t expect criminals and their friends not to come after you, when you make such obvious mistakes. I know all your secrets, Y/N.’
The thick lump that’s been created in your throat gets swallowed, gliding down and landing in your cramped stomach. You’re looking for any severe signs again, when you soak in every detail of the text, searching for indications to differentiate between an insignificant prank or a serious matter.
You’re a detective after all—the fact someone is coming after you, spreading false information anonymously to your office, gives you some alarming tautness. Revenge calls or emails reach your office quite often, considering the fact you’re putting criminals locked up behind bars. It’s nothing new that related individuals come after you and your colleagues.
But this—it’s different. The author has included things that none of the criminals or their friends could have known, it’s personal information you’ve only ever shared with close friends. On one hand, it’s limiting the multitude of possible suspects; on the other hand—it scares you for life, knowing the culprit could be near you, even capable of sharing your deepest secrets.
Then your eyes align with the author’s sign again, one thousand thoughts per second doing sprinting sessions inside your skull, making your head all dizzy.
‘– L.’
Where have you ended up here?! A cheap remake of Pretty Little Liars or Gossip girl? The only thing missing is an ‘xoxo, you know you love me’.
And all of this would be hilarious, actually quite entertaining, if the worries wouldn’t creep inside your body like a huge army of tiny little ants. 
You read the message one last time. ‘When you make such obvious mistakes’—possibly, or more definitely, just bluffing. So you decide to get back to your actual case, searching for more clues hinting towards that growing drug cartel.
Maybe the messages are connected to them. This would make anything both easier and dangerous for you but they’d simultaneously hand themselves to you on a pretty shining silver plate. You dig deeper, gathering together all the evidence you already have. After another hour of focused work, you’re getting closer to the bottom of this mystery revolving around the cartel.
Until another mail gets sent to your work account, similar to the first one, the sign on the bottom proves it’s the same person.
‘I’m closer than you think I am, babes. I’m always one step ahead of you, creeping into your office, reading all the evidence you’ve collected. The way you document your work is much of an eyesore. Maybe fix that first and you’ll get what you’re looking for. xx. kisses but no hugs for you. – L.”
Yeah, so it’s both Pretty Little Liars and Gossip Girl.
The oxygen inside your lungs hitches, as you halt in place. This is getting ridiculous. Ridiculously stupid. It’s as if the author has just tripped themselves with the message.
After years of work experience, not only you but also your boss and colleagues know, there’s no one more talented when it comes to all things organizing than you. Binders and folders in different colours, an incredibly precise view on every tiny detail surrounding you as well as highly developed stamina when it comes to any case—a biography of Y/L/N Y/N.
There’s nothing making its way slipping through your fingers. You’re aware of everything. So the fact this person is coming after your biggest skill, makes you hold back a giggle. You’re confident in what you’re doing, they can’t get at you for or with this. 
“Everything alright, Y/N?” Your boss asks, startling you from your focus on the syllables on the bright screen in front of you.
Chan has always been like this—easily concerned, especially when it comes to his fellow detectors, especially when it comes to you.
You’re one of his best, officially. You’re the best, unofficially. He wouldn’t admit that to your coworkers but deep down he knows and lets you know as well.
So, of course he instantly caught up on the fact that you seem a little off today, a little distracted.
“W-Well,” you start, deciding it’s best to let Chan know about those two letters in case they’re important for a current crime, “I’ve received these messages today and I’m not sure if they’re just bluffing or something serious. It’s keeping me a bit busy, if I’m honest.”
He gets a little closer to you who is still sitting in their chair. The chief inspector leans a bit over your desk, pretty near to you now. His fingers land on the computer mouse, helping him scroll through the abstruse messages.
“Hm, let me see,” Chan says, reading the sentences attentively. You can sense it by the look on his face that he’s fully focused. His brain works fast—maybe not as fast as yours—but he’s always one step ahead, already contemplating how to handle this odd and scary situation.
However, he’s also very rational. He may be concerned on the inside, but he’s also the team’s leader. It’s his duty to provide security to his detectives. The messages scare the shit out of him—especially considering that they are directed to you, his best investigator, whom he’s good friends with and also has a hopeless crush on. He wouldn’t ever confess that, but he can’t change his feelings towards you.
That’s why it breaks his heart that the following words he’s about to speak, will downplay the anxiety those anonymous hate messages create in your head.
“Sounds like a prank to me, to be fair.”
A prank?
Of course, you’re not feeling threatened per se—especially when receiving an untrue accusation like this—but better safe than sorry, right?
What if there’s a criminal behind this who you caught some time ago? There are probably some lost souls out there that are out of jail and out for revenge.
At least that’s a logical explanation for that abstruse text. 
‘I’m closer than you think I am, babes.’
It must be someone you know, someone who believes you did harm to. You’re a detective after all, it’s your job to arrest criminals or guilty people who (believe they) aren’t.
You’re an overthinker, too. Which is kind of annoying in this setting, to be fair.
But better safe than sorry, right?
“Sir– this person claims to know hidden information about me or our precinct. Maybe they’re even connected to the drug cartel,” you explain your worries without trying to seem too anxious.
You can see it in his eyes—Chan does want to say more, he feels what you feel. He’s probably the most empathetic person you know, especially when it comes to his close ones.
Especially, when it comes to you. He catches himself way too often—captured in a spiral of thoughts he shouldn’t have about his younger colleague. But there’s just something about that combination of your utmost intelligence, your empathy that’s basically as huge as his own and we haven’t even talked about your looks yet—you’re his type, really.
Chan would ask you to go out with him on the spot. However, there are enough reasons against this. First, you’re coworkers, which would make anything beyond friendship hella complicated. Second, he’s not ready for something serious right now. It just doesn’t fit his current life, unfortunately.
So, one could assume the two of you could just start a physical agreement instead. The tension is there, you can’t deny it, even though it’s unspoken. He noticed you ogling his hands earlier and he bets that your heartbeat increased when he leaned over your desk. It’s always like this. He has also observed that whenever he wears one of those shirts that cling tightly to his chest, you seem to visit his office more often than on a regular day.
His assumptions aren’t just assumptions. If Chan asked to bend you over his desk, you wouldn’t even think twice and you feel absolutely ashamed that these thoughts stay in your head while you’re trying to find a solution for a very serious situation. Fuck. You need to get laid.
Utmost tension is lingering in the air but Chan catches himself. He has to stay professional. Focus on those anonymous threats. Besides that—it’s just two messages. There will be a harmless explanation for that—maybe some teens playing a prank or whatever the youth is up on TikTok or wherever right now.
“I understand your concerns, Y/N, but we can’t do much for now. Just leave it as it is and we’ll see.”
Chan has always honoured your certainty and work ethic. He’s a person you look up to, someone whose opinion matters a lot to you, if not the most—so you try to follow his advice.
It’ll be hard. You dearly pray the messages will stop, that it really is just some joke. You can’t handle anything like this right now—not with all the shit that has been haunting your life lately.
These past months have been… a lot. Work and private wise. You’re basically working in your freetime, trying to solve all the cases that have been asserted to you. When you come back from work after your shifts, you can’t fully relax.
You don’t mind that your stepbrother is temporarily living in your apartment—after all, his soon to be ex wife is still occupying his old one and the poor guy is too emotionally overwhelmed to even talk to her. It’s new, seeing him like this. It breaks your heart, really. Minho is such a strong, independent man and fell for a woman like that. You’re glad he’s out there—even if the limited space and his whining at night gets the best of you.
But when you look at the picture on your desk—a group selfie of Chan, Minyeong, Jisung and you—it reminds you it’s not so bad. You know that you can count on them if things get rough—no matter if it’s related to work, your family situation or those threats.
🔍
“Y/N, wait.”
You can’t overhear his voice—it’s one of your faves after all. Not because you have a huge crush on its owner. It’s solely because of the sound—after all, Jisung used to be a musician a long time ago.
Little rushed steps get closer to you, the noises mixing together with his words.
“I’ve got some clues considering the drug cartel.”
That’s when you halt in place. Your thoughts might be all over the place—even more than on a normal day—but this information lets hyper focus kick in.
However, you’re just about to take your lunch break. You’re exhausted, have been working on some cases for six hours straight and the growling of your stomach is driving you insane.
Your detective partner finally reaches you, gasping for air—sometimes you wonder how he joined the police with that lack of athletic skills—as he places his hand on your shoulder.
Jisung does that a lot. With anyone and everyone. He is a very touchy person, one could say.
You’re not. You’re kind of the opposite, unsure if it’s to blame on your neurological background.
However, it feels comfortable if it’s Jisung. Not because you have a huge crush on him. It’s solely because he makes you feel secure and comfortable, it’s because you can trust him which isn’t surprising considering he’s your partner.
But no matter what he’s about to say, you need your well deserved break.
“Can’t it wait until after lunch?”
Jisung looks at you like a little fawn stares into a car’s front lights.
That is very untypical of you.
Who are you and what did you do to his best friend?
He tilts his head, getting a little closer. Usually, you’re invested in the cases even after work, putting all your effort into finding out the truth. That’s what you’re popular for at your police department, that’s what your colleagues admire you for—especially Jisung.
“Is everything alright?”
No, but I don’t want to talk about it.
You avoid his gaze, “Why wouldn’t it be?”
The fake smile that’s plastered all over your face is pathetic, really, and of course Jisung doesn’t need a second to realise.
“Come on,” he slightly nudges your shoulder, catching you off guard, “you can tell me everything, you know that, right?” 
I do know that, Sungie.
You’re best friends, have been for a few years now and you can count on him, trust him with your whole life. There’s no one you’re closer with—despite maybe your stepbrother. But the difference between them is that you don’t have a huge crush on the latter, obviously.
Well, of course you don’t have feelings for Jisung either. You’re best friends. Just that. Nothing more.
At least that’s what you’re trying to convince yourself of in order to protect your stupid little heart.
“It’s–“
You cut yourself off. It’s already hard to discuss all the stuff that’s on your mind, so sharing your inner thoughts in the middle of the hallway doesn’t seem like the brightest idea.
“Let’s go get some lunch, the food is on me, okay?”
You nod and follow Jisung to the cafeteria, allowing him to choose a nice and warm meal for you, before he pays for it. The both of you take a seat near the window, making it easier to watch the droplets of rain hit the glass that’s separating you from them.
“A… a lot of stuff happened,” you start the conversation, “I told you about the thing with my brother—seeing him in pain like this hurts me too and demands lots of energy that I don’t have right now.”
As if it’s the most normal thing in this world, Jisung grabs your hand and you let him. You’re not really into physical touch but for some reason it’s different with him. He’s a special person. Your special person.
On the contrary, your best friend loves skinship. It’s definitely one of his love friendship languages. Sometimes he feels like a perv almost, whenever he searches for another excuse to touch you—not in a creepy way, he’s not disrespectful, but he craves being close to you.
Not because he has a huge crush on you. It’s solely because you make him feel secure and comfortable, it’s because he can trust you which isn’t surprising considering you’re his partner.
Definitely. Not because of the fact that he has feelings for his best friend that he shouldn’t have.
But whenever Jisung gets closer to you, when you initiate a cuddle session or ask for a warm hug, when you let him place an absolutely platonic kiss on either your forehead or your cheek, he enters the spiral of daydreaming again.
Two problems occur with this.
First, if he’s completely honest, the man is madly in love with you but too much of a coward to admit that. He wants to be more than your friend but he’s also aware that things would get absolutely complicated considering you’re not only his colleague but also his partner—ignoring the totally obvious fact that you probably don’t like him back.
Second, those innocent little touches awaken thoughts that let his brain shut off because all the blood inside his head wanders down to his dick. He’s a man after all and working with a detective that’s both incredibly hot but also super smart, which turns him rather dumb. He catches himself thinking unholy ideas way too often. The images of you underneath him, begging for more, being guided to the final level of a dangerous game called intimacy—all of them are living rent free in his head.
Whenever these forbidden thoughts appear, he stops himself immediately. At least he tries to. You’re his best friend, you’re his partner—you both have developed the perfect basis of trust over the years, he won’t tear down those stable walls for a one night stand.
Or worse—for a confession of his love for you, knowing you won’t return the feelings anyway.
So he just sits there in silence, enjoying your presence either way, reminding himself that you’re currently pouring your heart out to him—oh, God, he is a fucking pervert.
Stop thinking with your dick, Jisung.
“So, yeah, that’s it,” you finish your monologue.
At least Jisung was able to pay attention to what you were saying, which also leads him to the next dilemma—you’re not telling him the entire truth. Jisung knows you like the back of his hand. He just feels if something is wrong, sometimes even before you grasp it.
“There’s more bothering you. Tell me about it, come on.”
Fuck.
You shouldn’t have those thoughts, really. But there’s something about this demanding aura that he carries very rarely, that makes your head spin ridiculously. The unholy images are already making their way into your mind—possessing you with the idea of being pressed against the mattress by Jisung, begging him for more, as he guides you to your sweet relief.
This is a serious situation, Y/N. Stop thinking with your pussy.
“Sungie, it’s nothing serious.”
You never call him by his nickname at work. He knows that and he knows that you know it too, judging by the way your eyes widen once you’ve noticed your mistake.
“I won’t repeat myself. Tell me.”
When you see the seriousness in his eyes, you’re able to switch back to normal. Having your best friend worry about you is the last thing you want.
So, you take a deep breath, deciding to just drop the frightening information.
“There were two mails sent to my work account filled with anonymous threats.”
Jisung’s eyes threaten to fall out by the way he’s staring at you, in utter shock. 
“W-What?” is all that makes it out his mouth.
You watch where your bodies connect, when he squeezes your hand tighter. Jisung tries to gather up the correct words, trying to both ease your mind while he is already searching for a solution.
He’s scared. He won’t admit that in order to not worry you even more, but it’s a lot to hear what you just said.
Just when he is about to finally speak, Minyeong and Soyeon take the empty seats beside you.
“No, I’ve told you, I can bring the wine for the party,” Soyeon announces, a tray with her lunch being placed on the spot on the table in front of her. She’s right beside you, giving you a soft smile, just checking in.
Minyeong does the same from the other side. You told her about the things going on with your brother. After all, she’s your best friend. Your colleague was the one who got you into this job in the first place—like some others who are part of the department, you didn’t study to become a detective.
The same counts for Soyeon and Jisung—they both met in college, majoring in music but unfortunately great success never really reached them. They wanted to do something that helps people, similar to their arts, so they ended up here.
Minyeong and Chan, as well as the other fellow detectives, actually went to a school to prepare them for their job, which leaves you a little insecure from time to time. It’s not as if you’re bad at what you’re doing—objectively speaking, you’re one of the best investigators the city of Seoul has ever had. But knowing you have a different background—studying abroad in Prague for five years just to get out there with the worst grade of the year—leaves you unsure about your life choices from time to time.
“I’ve told you as well, Soyeon,” Minyeong starts again, “I can bring mead with me.”
Jisung looks a little dumfounded, before he intervenes, “What? Meat? Why would you bring raw meat instead of wine?”
Your other best friend chuckles and you join her, unable to not giggle about your shared friend’s question. Laughing along with your closest loved ones helps you forget about all the issues you have to deal with for a second. You’re glad they’re with you.
“Not meat, Ji. Mead. It’s honey wine. I’m from a family of beekeepers, you know.”
His jaw falls open, when he finally gets what his colleague means. It’s adorable, really. Not even in a way that it’s connected to your crush on him, but Jisung is an absolutely funny guy without even trying.
“I don’t see a problem with bringing different types of wine—the more, the better,” you suggest.
Your friends instantly nod, as Minyeong says, “Sure! Let’s listen to Y/N, she’s absolutely right. This is gonna be a fun work party.”
You’ve never liked work parties but with the right people surrounding you, like your kind colleagues, you’re actually looking forward to it.
After planning a little further, considering the get-together is already this evening, you finish your lunch just in time to get back to your files and cases as well as in order to escape Jisung. He knows how much you value your focus kicking in at work so whenever he sees you between all the paperwork and behind your computer, he won’t disrupt you.
Most people say your ADHD holds you back from being a good detective and while you agree on an everyday level, knowing your circumstances have always made life a lot harder for you, you don’t agree when it comes to investigation. You’re convinced the fact your brain is working a little differently helps you observe situations from a different point of view that nobody else thinks of.
Jisung has the same opinion about this. Despite you being his closest friend and partner, he values your intelligence and skills and absolutely admires you for it. That’s why he is rushing to your desk, files under his arm, ready to present you the new clues he has regarding the drug cartel case you’ve been working on for nearly a year now.
“Look at this,” he says, showing his notes to you. 
Money laundering isn’t anything unusual when it comes to organised crime and you for sure don’t have to be a detective to know that oftentimes restaurants, stores or other little shops and companies are used for hiding evidence about drug deals.
That’s what led your partner to a little shop in the suburbs, since he suspects them to hide their packages of cocaine and other substances somewhere in the store. Nothing unusual when it comes to stuff like this. You should visit the shop, maybe find some hints if you’re lucky enough.
The clock hits almost three. Your initial plan was to give your paperwork some attention but this has to wait for now. When Chan gives both of you the green light and allowance for investigating the shop undercover—together with the police dog Bbama—you head towards your destination.
🔍
It’s a good thing Bbama doesn’t look like his profession and neither do you in your civilian clothes. It makes finding some clues a little easier. When you reach the store, the owner is very friendly, offering to help you with what you’re looking for—as he believes you’re just normal customers—but you decline.
The dog is the real main character here. Jisung, his official owner, trained him very well, so that no one notices his odd behaviour. It’s nothing unusual for dogs to attach their noses to whatever scent hits them and the salesman doesn’t seem to be bothered either. You spend a few more minutes inside the store, even getting pretty close to their storage room but Bbama doesn’t seem to find anything.
In case this shop is connected to the drug cartel, they either hide their cocaine in the storage room that you don’t have access to or somewhere entirely different. Unfortunately, this isn’t enough to send a SWAT team here, the evidence is still missing. Jisung’s ideas are mainly based on an old case where the store was involved in some weed dealing, but that was all there was.
Fuck. A whole fucking hour for nothing.
It feels as if you’re starting from zero again—not only with your detective related things but also with everything else in life.
Fuck it. Just make the best out of it and leave, like normal customers.
You grab two bottles of water and pay, locking eyes with the owner, as a shiver runs down your spine, before you leave the store. The clues are still missing, but after basically staring into this man’s soul, you’re one step closer again.
“I’m sorry, Y/N, I was so sure that they are involved in–“
“They are,” you state.
Jisung stops in his tracks and you turn around, looking at him with a sly grin.
“What?”
You chuckle, “They are involved. But the drugs are hidden somewhere else. It was the right thing to go there.”
Jisung is confused. He knows your thought processes work a little differently, but he doesn’t understand what makes you so convinced that the little store is involved in such a huge criminal case.
“How do you know?”
You shrug your shoulders, “Gut feeling.”
Fairly speaking, detectives should always base their ideas on rationality and not emotions but you saw it in the salesman’s eyes, that he’s keeping a secret. You just need more clues to connect the dots. The worst case scenario is that he realised that Jisung, Bbama and you are cops—maybe that’s why he behaved so uneasy behind the counter.
“I trust you,” Jisung says all of a sudden, catching you off guard.
“Really?”
You don’t understand why he believes you if your assumptions are based on practically nothing. But it isn’t the first time your strategy is like that—in nine out of ten times you were right when using a good mixture of rational thoughts and emotions.
“Yeah. You’re the best detective I know.”
You feel heat creep up to your face but in the dim lights inside the car park Jisung doesn’t seem to notice. When you reach his vehicle, he opens the door for you, making your heart skip yet another beat. Bbama stays on your lap and he falls asleep right after Jisung leaves the parking spot.
Your best friend stops at a red light, winker indicating he’s about to head back to the department. But you need some time for yourself, that’s why you ask, “Can you drop me off at my apartment? I need to change clothes and check up on my brother.”
He looks at you, being reminded of the collection of dilemmas you’re carrying with you these days. So, he nods, “Of course.”
Although he loves Soyeon and Minyeong just as much as you do, it was a shame the two women interrupted you earlier. Jisung can feel the anxiety creep into his soul again, as he remembers what you told him.
He wants to ask more. He needs to ask more. He has to make sure you’re okay and safe.
But just when Jisung is about to ask you what you meant with the anonymous threats earlier, finally gathering up enough courage to speak, you reach for your bag, searching for something. You grab a book that’s enveloped in a glittering cover, placing it on your lap, just right beside Bbama who is deep in his slumber, almost snoring louder than the car’s engine. Reaching for the keys just in case Minho isn’t at home yet, you attach them to your belt.
“What book is this?” Jisung asks, deeply mesmerised by the shimmering look. Sometimes he’s like a little child, amazed by something like this.
You didn’t even notice that you haven’t put the book back into your bag again. Your hands hover over the cover, colliding with the glittering particles.
“Oh, it’s part of a series called Levanter by Lidka Juřicová,” you explain, “I have read it a million times, honestly. Bought it back in the days in Prague.”
Ah, how fast the train of nostalgia hits you. Scents of knedliky and trdelník entering your nostrils, the taste of kiwi juice that tastes like chemical sugar lingers on your tongue and the vision of the Charles Bridge is basically in front of your eyes.
The author wrote another series that you used to adore a lot. Freeze. An enemies to lovers disaster. But the male lead reminds you too much of the guy in Czechia that recommended the book to you.
Hwang Hyunjin.
And his little side fling Jade.
Yikes.
“What’s it about?” Jisung asks, genuinely interested but also trying to distract you from anything else.
“A love story… you know me,” you begin, chuckling a bit, embarrassed, “just a typical mafia thing—I know it's ironic to read that as a detective but I swear it’s for research. Friends to lovers, lots of drama, you get it.”
Jisung is still very confused. In more than one way. He’s not really into literature so he doesn’t get what you’re referring to. However, he notices a little detail—friends to lovers. That could be you if you just gave him a chance.
Stop being delusional, Jisung.
“I… don’t. But it fits you, I guess,” is what he says.
You open the book, flicking through the pages as the smell of paper fills the car.
“Anyway—this is part one of the series, this book is called Medicine. Actually—you know what’s funny?” The book gets placed on Jisung’s lap now, as the sudden touch startles him. “You should definitely read it.”
He blinks once. He blinks twice. “Why is that? I m-mean, yeah of course.” 
You have incredible taste and I would do anything you recommend me to do, Jisung thinks.
His eyes switch down to the book and back on the street again. You’re almost there. Maybe driving one hundred and twenty on the freeway wasn’t the brightest idea when you and his little feelings for you are in the car with him. He slows down, just in time to enter the exit and head towards your street.
The vehicle stops when he is right in front of your house. Unbuckling the seatbelt, you get up and catch a last glimpse of your best friend and the book in his lap—pushing away the fact that you’d love to sit right there, too.
“You’ll see, when you read it,” you say, a wink following, before you exit the car and walk towards your building. Jisung watches you disappear behind the front door, his fingertips grazing over the glittering cover one last time before he drives off to his own apartment.
Later that day, just right between getting ready for the party, when he starts reading the first few pages, he realises what you were hinting at.
The main character’s name is Y/N.
Unfortunately, Jisung doesn’t read enough chapters to realise the male lead is carrying his own.
What a coincidence, considering the fact you purchased that book way before even knowing him. Jisung isn’t a superstitious person at all. But you are.
🔍
“Hey, Min. How’s it going?”
Although you used the keys to get inside, you find your brother sitting on the couch, snuggled up underneath a blanket. It’s getting colder outside, for sure, autumn ready to get everyone’s attention but it’s not freezing enough to cover oneself with sheets. Something tells you that Minho is seeking comfort.
That’s why you head to the kitchen—that is the same room as the one your brother is in, considering you live in a studio apartment—making some hot chocolate for the both of you.
“Fine, fine. Dori and I went outside for a little walk but she was very brave despite it being an unknown neighbourhood for her.” Hiding between the books on your shelf, there she is, you can see her. “Weren’t you, baby?”
You’re glad your brother was able to rescue his cat from his ex’s place—you feel better around that little fur ball and he does too. 
Minho has been doing better these days and it does help a lot that he drowns his sorrows in cleaning your apartment. You believe it’s never been this tidy before. But as an introvert, the fact that the two, or well, three of you are sharing a studio apartment isn’t that easy. Your private life is basically dead, since you have to sleep in the same room as your brother (and his cat), increasing your stress level even further.
Handing him the hot beverage once it’s ready to be served, you join him under the blankets, watching whatever show he has put on. It’s not a show, per se, rather some animal documentation on Netflix but it doesn’t surprise you. Your brother is a veterinarian after all.
Little Dori’s paws step on the sofa as well, letting the cushion shift under her weight before she decides to crawl into your lap, making you her chosen one.
“You’re almost as unfaithful as your mother,” Minho says to his cat, referring to his ex. It breaks your heart and he can tell by the look you give him. “Chill, Y/N. Me making fun of the situation means I’m healing.”
He gives you a genuine smile and you opt for believing him.
“If you say so.”
He takes a look at his watch then, realising it’s getting late.
“Don’t you have to get ready for your party?” He asks and you immediately come back to reality. “You should look at least a bit decent for your colleague—what was his name, Jisung?”
You place Dori beside you, ignoring her protest, before you get up from the couch. But you come to a halt again when your brother’s words register in your head.
“Did you just call me ugly?!”
Minho lets out a loud chuckle, “Don’t change the subject, sis. Or wait—it was two of them, right? You also have a crush on your boss, don’t you? Maybe Dori and I should bet on who you end up with.”
He’s getting on your last nerve. You stomp towards you wardrobe, picking out the dress you have chosen for tonight. Laying the fabric on your shoulder, you head to the bathroom door.
You turn around one last time, before you warn your roommate, “Shut up, Minho, or you’re sleeping in the bathroom tonight.”
He clicks his tongue, grabbing Dori and placing her on his lap.
“Considering you’re going home with one of your coworkers, you can’t supervise that anyway, detective.”
You shoot him a glare that could for sure kill him.
“Fuck you, Min.”
“I love you too, you’re the best sister in the world.”
🔍
“Mead?” Minyeong welcomes you, when you enter the break room. You grab the glass she is offering you, clinking it together with hers before you take a sip. The wine tastes immaculate, like nothing else you've ever had before. Of course, your bestie always brings you lots of bottles for free but this seems to be a new type.
“You look stunning,” she adds, referring to your short black dress.
“You too,” you reply.
The room gets fuller with each hour and drink that passes. You’re currently snacking on some crisps, occupied in a conversation with Minyeong and Eunjoo, another one of your coworkers. Both of them grew up in the same smalltown, always willing to share funny nostalgic events with you. Although you don’t know any of the people they are talking about, it’s still entertaining to just listen to them.
Soyeon joins you a couple of minutes later, inviting you for a round of shots. She brings four little glasses with her, filled to the brim with soju. Each of you reaches for one, before you listen to the sound of them colliding. When the transparent liquid hits your tongue and warms your belly, you know that tonight will help you get your mind off of all the stress of these past weeks.
You’re practically dancing the night away—trying to forget about everything. The messages. The mess your brother is in. The feelings for Jisung. That ongoing tension with your boss.
Speaking of the devil—none other than Chan approaches you, softly touching your shoulder in order to get your attention.
“Y/N? Can I talk to you for a second?”
You nod, giving him a soft smile, “Sure. What is it?”
“Alone. My office,” he says.
Following him, you realise that the alcohol is getting to your head but when you arrive in the room that belongs to the chief inspector, Chan offers you a bottle of water. He knows when you’ve had enough and possibly it isn’t the best time to talk to you about what's on his mind, but he needs to clear things up.
“I’m sorry how I reacted when you showed me the messages,” he says.
You haven’t expected him to tell you this. If you’re honest, you’re not putting much thought into this, after all he is your boss and supposed to stay professional in risky situations like these.
“It’s fine, I get it… you were just trying to calm me down and–“
“No,” he cuts you off. “If I’m honest, it scared me, too. But I have to stay professional, I’m your boss.”
Oh. You haven’t expected this either. In hindsight, it doesn’t surprise you, though. Chan has a big heart, a lot of empathy—which makes that crush even worse. You always try to convince yourself it’s just this—your boss is objectively speaking very attractive, a smart and confident man, a bit older than you and knows what he wants.
Who wouldn’t fall for that?
But you’re already confused about the feelings you have for your best friend, you can’t enter another drama like this.
“I understand,” you say, bringing yourself back to the current topic. “Why did it scare you, though?”
You’re not fishing for validation. At least not intentionally.
“Well… you’re probably my favourite person around here,” that much for staying professional, “so if someone threatens you, I’m automatically involved, too.”
“Sir, I–“
“Y/N, we’re not at work,” he reminds you. “You don’t have to address me like this.”
You nod, “Oh, sure—but Chan, there’s nothing to worry about, really.”
He takes a deep breath, as his eyes close. Fuck. He has to stop this. But being near you, alone in his office, watching you wear this skimpy little black dress, makes it hard for him to focus. Chan gets reminded of the fear in your eyes earlier, when receiving the anonymous threats. He wanted to pull you close, tell you it’s gonna be alright.
So, he decides to make up for that now.
“I will protect you nonetheless,” he assures you.
“You don’t have to–“
“Be honest, Y/N,” he starts again. “It does affect you, right? Even though it was ‘only’ two messages, you can’t get it out of your head, am I right?”
You agree, “There’s just a lot going on right now. I can’t focus. My mind's a mess and my whole body is filled with stress. But the party helps a little.”
He gives you a soft smile, before he walks a little closer to you. Chan wants to stop himself but his desires are taking over his mind and body, when he reaches for a strand of your hair, just to tuck it behind your ear. He observes your breath hitching, as he’s unable to hold back that smirk appearing on his face.
“I’m glad to hear that. You look amazing, by the way,” he says, voice dropping lower.
“T-Thank you,” is all that makes it past your lips.
Suddenly the room feels one hundred degrees hotter, tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. You know it’s wrong. So wrong. Chan is your boss. He is the chief inspector. You shouldn’t have those thoughts inside your head how he bends you over the table and pushes your dress up high, just to shove his cock into your cunt.
Slow down, Y/N. What the fuck?
“No need to be shy, I’m just speaking the truth,” Chan says and you believe him. A soft smile finds your face then.
But Chan isn’t the only one who is being plagued with visions he shouldn’t have. He blames it on the way you look at him, on the fact you’re trusting him so much and on the ongoing lustful atmosphere that always fills the room whenever you’re with him.
At least that are his excuses for when his mouth speaks faster than his brain can hold him back.
“If you ever…” Chan starts, already sensing he’s about to suggest the dumbest idea he’s ever had in his life, “need something to distract we could–“
So, he stops himself.
Although it’s too late.
“We could… what?”
His breathing stops for a second when he realises what he’s done.
“Never mind—I can’t say that.”
“Chan… please,” you beg with a pout, blaming it on the tense atmosphere in his office and the street lamp outside shrouding the room in a dim shade of yellow.
“This is… un- unprofessional…”
His gaze finds the floor but you're the one reaching towards his face now, as two of your fingers land under his chin, making him look at you again.
“We’re not at work, Chan. You don’t have to be professional,” you remind him with a wink.
Oh, God. You’re gonna be the death of him.
He clears his throat. “I– I wanted to offer that… if you need a distraction with all that’s going on, I know of a way to make you forget about everything.”
Slowly, his second guesses fly out the window, especially when he watches you clicking your tongue.
“Yeah? Tell me, what is it?”
He gets a little closer to you, confidence suddenly and finally washing over him.
“I said I will protect you. Let me take care of you, just for tonight.”
Pure lust is swirling in his eyes, hypnotising you even further.
“Okay.”
That’s all he needs to hear in order to connect his lips with yours. You’ve expected him to smash them against your own, but Chan opts for a slow pace, driving you even crazier with each second that passes.
He’s smirking against you, right before he allows you to slip your tongue into his mouth. Your boss pulls you closer, his palms attached to your lips. A moan escapes your mouth and you don’t see a need in holding back anymore.
The grip on your flesh wanders further, until his hands are right behind the back of your thighs. He pick you up and with one swift motion, Chan lets the both of you make a one hundred and eighty degree twist, before he approaches his office desk—of course, at a leisurely pace just to tease you even more.
Your ass meets the wooden surface and your friend takes a step back to capture the full view of your beautiful figure. When Chan saw you first in that pathetic excuse of a dress, all he wanted to do was tear it off your body.
That’ll be the next step of his plan.
And as if your minds are already connected, you seem to want the exact same thing, too, when you whimper, “Touch me, Chan. Please.”
In the blink of an eye, his lips crash into yours again but they aren’t staying there particularly long. Their destination is way further south, which, on the contrary, doesn’t hold him back from granting some attention to your neck first.
It’s a beautiful picture, really—the combination of your head falling back, as Chan creates an astonishing pattern on your throat that by now reaches down to your cleavage and makes him feel his cock strain against the pants that are getting tighter and tighter.
You guide his head further, deciding to take a part of the lead and Chan follows suit. He pulls your dress down, revealing your bare breasts—after all this piece has a built in bra—which basically makes him drool at the spot.
“Fuck,” is all he lets out.
“Sure,” you joke, making fun of his choice off words but Chan doesn’t pay any attention. He simply can’t when you’re in front of him, half naked, fucked out look decorating your beautiful face and he hasn’t even done anything yet.
You’ve wanted this for so long. He’s wanted this for so long.
But something is still holding him back. There, in the back of his mind are second guesses keeping him distracted. 
“Y/N– wait–“
You look at him like a deer caught in the headlights, “We can stop, if you want.”
He shakes his head no.
“No– I do want this, I do want you. But—I’m your boss and–“
“You’re not taking advantage of me,” you reassure him, “I want this just as much as you do. Also, I’m not tipsy anymore, I promise.”
He nods, glad you’re also sober, “I… I have bad experience with… sleeping with colleagues and–“
You decide to not contemplate who he might be referring to. It’s probably someone from his old department, anyway.
“It doesn’t have to mean anything. It’s a one time thing and I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”
Are you destroying your poor little heart with this? Possibly. But you need Chan right now. You can’t hold back anymore. If this is what it takes, then future-Y/N can deal with the consequences of your pathetic decisions.
“Okay,” Chan says, unsure if he prefers a no strings attached one night stand situation. After all, there are some rather serious feelings hiding in the deepest parts of his heart. “I won’t tell anyone either.”
“Good,” you say, your gaze flickering back to his moutg.
“Yeah,” he says, before a long pause follows. But observing his plump lips helps you gain back the confidence you need.
“Then go on, sir. Bend me over the table.”
Chan’s eyes turn dark and he chuckles, “Cute how you assume you’re in charge.”
A moment later you find yourself throwing your head back again, as Chan’s hands have finally made it under the dress. His fingertips are currently busy teasing your entrance, watching you squirm when they come in contact with your absolutely drenched underwear. Your panties are ruined but this is the last thing that’s on your mind right now.
After all, Chan is pushing the laces aside a second later, grazing over your sensitive bud with his thumb as two of his fingers circle around your hole. He watches how your breath hitches, when he pushes both of them at once into you.
You can’t hold back the moan that makes it past your lips and you don’t seem to want to. Not when he slides them in even further. There’s no way you can hold back, when your boss is knuckles deep inside you, filling you so nicely it makes you wonder what his hard cock will feel like caged inside your walls.
And then the unexpected happens—Chan drops down to his knees and pushes your skirt up higher, exposing your not so covered pussy to him and his office. A string of saliva hits your clit, although he technically wouldn’t need it, you think you’ve never been this wet before.
Your vision is already getting blurry and your mind seems to shut off completely, when his tongue collides with your bundle of nerves. Slurping sounds are echoing through the room, Chan lets out a few moans and curse words, not caring if anyone can hear the two of you. Luckily, his office is far away from the break room where the party is.
Your thoughts wander towards Jisung for a second but they are instantly cut off, when Chan curls his fingers, reaching that certain spot inside you.
“Fuck– you’re such a good boy,” you let out.
The praise makes him whimper, cry out and moan once more against your pussy.
“You like it when I call you a good boy?” you ask then. 
For a second, Chan detaches his mouth from you.
“Y-Yeah,” he stutters, getting back to business a second later, increasing the pace of his tongue in comparison to before, flicking it over your swollen clit.
It won’t take you that much longer—the sparkles are already blinding your vision, threatening to push you over the edge. Your hand finds his head, fingers entangled in his curls, as you help him guide you through your approaching climax.
“Channie–“
“Go on, babygirl. Make a mess on my fingers and tongue,” he encourages you.
And so, you do. Your legs are shaking, as the feeling takes over you, possesses your whole being as if it’s magic. Chan watches you come undone for him, his movements never stopping. Once you are back in reality—at least physically—he guardedly pulls his fingers out of you.
Guiding them towards you face, your hand wraps around his wrists, as you allow his digits to enter your mouth. You lick them clean, tasting yourself on his skin. He pulls them out once more, watching you with his darkened eyes.
“N-Need more, Chan,” you pout, already reaching for his pants, before you pull them down with his boxers in one go. His hardened length gets freed, making your mouth get filled with saliva—you’re basically close again and he hasn’t even started yet.
“Wait—condom?” he asks.
“I have an IUD… I’m fine without a condom, if you are.”
He nods, before his hand reaches for his cock, as he starts stroking himself, getting closer to your heat. The tip of his throbbing cock comes in contact with your aching hole, but Chan decides to tease you a little, when he brushes over your clit with it, forcing another moan out of you.
“I’ll fuck you so good, sweetheart,” he says with a smirk.
“Then do it, don’t let me wait any longer– FUCK–“
Your sentence gets cut off, when he slides into you without a warning but with another one of those chuckles. You’re glad he’s prepared you so well—Chan is thick, filling you so deliciously already. When he’s bottomed you out completely, his gaze shifts up to your eyes, searching for any second guesses.
Once you’re adjusted to his size, you give him a small sign and he starts moving.
The slow pace from earlier is long forgotten—it’s replaced with the speed of light instead but you don’t mind at all.
You know that neither of you will last long and although it makes you a little sad, knowing this is a one time thing, you're unable to fight against it. Chan is thrusting into you, making you forget your own name with his satisfying movements, as he fucks you right there on his office table.
Your boss watches your tits bouncing to the rhythm of his cock sliding in and out of you, deciding it’s the prettiest view his eyes have ever been granted. Especially, with your slightly parted lips, fullfilling the composition of that fucked out look on your face.
At least, that’s how he justifies his following words.
“Who would have known that a smart girl like you can be fucked dumb so easily.”
Oh, God. You definitely weren’t prepared for a comment like that but Chan knows you enjoyed it, when he feels you tightening around him.
“Chan– need–“ logic has left the room for the both of you. While you have trouble speaking proper sentences, Chan turns into a moaning mess himself. You’ve basically ruined each other by now. Your hand finds its way to his head again, fingers tugging at his curly strands but Chan knows how to take revenge when one of his hands, that’s currently placed on your hips, keeping you balanced, wanders upwards.
He wraps it around your throat and the slightest pressure is already enough for you—you’re once more clenching around him, dangerously close to your second orgasm of the night.
And when Chan brings two fingers right where you bodies meet, playing with your clit, you allow your body to get what it craves. When your walls tighten around him, he realises he won’t be able to hold back any longer either. So, he pulls out of you, stroking himself to that sweet relief, as you watch thick white ropes of cum collide with your stomach, some droplets landing on or running down to your pussy.
Your boss tells you to stay on the desk so that he can grab a towel from the bathroom. A minute later, he is back but it really feels as if just a few seconds have passed. While Chan is cleaning you, before he adjusts your pathetic excuse of a dress, an object enters your vision.
There’s a banana box in the corner of his office, used for anything but definitely not for storing the yellow fruit.
“Chan?”
His head turns around, finding your fragile figure.
“Yeah?”
You can hear nervousness in his voice, as he wonders if you regret what the both of you just did.
“What’s inside that box?” you ask, pointing at it.
Confusion pushes his anxiety away.
“Just… old paperwork. Are you looking for something? It should only include old cases of mine but if you need anything, go ahead,” he explains.
“So, no bananas?”
What are you on about?
“Why are you… asking about bananas?”
“I’ve got it,” you say, sliding down from the desk.
“Got what? You’re not making any sense.”
He chuckles, shyly, worrying that he’s the one who isn’t getting a very obvious hint. But sometimes your brain works faster than you’re able to speak which leads to a lot of question marks above the heads of the people you’re talking to.
“The drug cartel” you start, “I know where they’re hiding the cocaine. It’s not in the supermarket and neither inside the storage room of the shop—it’s in the banana boxes in the warehouse where they get their fruits from.”
Chan looks as if his eyes are about to pop out. Of course. Why hasn’t anyone thought of this before?
“You’re a fucking genius. We have to go there. Now,” he rushes you, grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you off the desk. His skin against yours makes your head a little dizzy but you decide to not read too much into it.
“Let me at least have a look in the mirror first,” you say, chuckling embarrassed.
“Do that, I’ll let the authorities know. We’re going undercover.”
You nod, before you disappear in the bathroom. It doesn’t take you long to make yourself look at least a bit decent—your brother’s words—but you know that the makeup has to wait. You can always do that while being in the car on your way to the warehouse.
“You ready?” Chan asks, once you join him in his office again.
You are. However, the overstimulation of all things happening lets you enter a spiral of thoughts.
Twelve months. A whole fucking year. Just for you to solve a case. You may not have arrested the suspect or suspects yet, but you’re basically on the finishing line.
“Chan?”
“What’s on your mind?” he asks.
You feel so dumb for asking this, for asking this right now in particular. But you need comfort. It’s a lot and for some reason your mind can’t handle good things happening to you when you’re bathing inside the shit show you call your life these days.
“Where am I supposed to go from here?”
You’re the definition of a perfectionist and overachiever.
Twelve months. You’ve spent twelve months trying to solve this case and now that you finally got the guilty one you’re—bored? Unsatisfied? Craving the next adventure?
Chan instantly gets what you’re referring to.
“Don’t worry, Y/N. You’re our best detective for a reason,” your boss compliments you.
You can’t help but feel the heat rising to your face. God. How on earth can you both talk about such work related issues just a few minutes after Chan was shoving his cock into your cunt, listening to all those pretty little whimpers you made.
Yeah.
Well.
Moving on.
“No… I am not the best one.”
You’re not fishing for compliments.
There are better detectives. Chan himself for instance. Otherwise he wouldn’t be the boss of the team.
“You’ve just solved a case we’ve been working our asses off for nearly a year now. You’re incredible and I’m not just saying this because… you know.”
Because you let me rail you on my office desk half an hour ago, he wants to say.
“I still don't know why solving this case would make me the best detective…”
You’re supposed to be the best detective of all time, huh?
Chan stops in his tracks for a second. “Well, all I know is—every time I think you’ve hit your ceiling, you go higher than you’ve ever fucking been.”
🔍
Approximately half an hour later you find yourself in the car with Chan, Jisung, Soyeon and Minyeong.
You don’t catch your detective partner investigating your looks—he clearly knows you went to Chan’s office with the boss himself, stayed there for like an hour and the fact you’re adjusting your makeup now probably can’t solely be blamed on the fact that the night isn’t that young anymore.
But he tries to push those thoughts away.
He doesn’t have a chance anyway. No matter if there’s something serious between you and the boss, you’d always choose the other one.
Chan is literally perfect. The chief inspector, a little bit older, muscular arms, firm chest—which Jisung knows about thanks to them going to the gym together occasionally—confident, rational. Just everything you need.
So, why should he waste any time wondering if he’s ever gonna be more than a friend to you?
You arrive shortly after, parking the car further away before you approach the huge warehouse. It doesn’t take you long to enter the building, considering people work here even at night, probably below minimum wage but that’s a case for another day.
“Who are you?” a male voice questions, revealing a middle aged man with silver hair, dressed in expensive attire—combined with a totally stupid looking cowboy hat, making him seem like a randomised sim.
You don’t want to be driven by prejudice but if that man isn’t connected to the drug cartel, you’re gonna quit your job and become an unemployed geologist again.
“Bang Chan. Chief inspector. We’ve got a few questions for you,” your boss introduces himself.
The unknown man has a grin decorating his face that’s supposed to cover sheer shock and panic.
“Follow me, then,” he offers, leading you to another room. You enter a ridiculously posh looking bar—everything is covered in velvet. Everything.
“Would you like a drink?”
You shake your head no, knowing you’ve still got a bit of alcohol in your system and Chan reacts the same way.
“So, how can I help you?” the suspected criminal asks.
Jisung steps in then, getting a bit closer to the bar.
“Oh you can’t– oh, well you actually can! Can I have a drink?” Your detective partner asks. “Everytime we are close to solving a huge crime case, I crave a drink.”
The man in front of him sighs, making his way towards the pretentiously huge bar. You can see his hands shaking in fear, as he speaks, “What would you like?”
Jisung looks around for a second, taking his time, pretending to make the most complicated decision in his life. But this is just one of his tricks, his strategy as a detective, if you will.
“Sparkling water.”
The criminal scoffs, before he grabs a bottle of ice cold water from his fridge. The fizzling sound fills the room, when the carbon dioxide escapes the water. A clean glass gets filled with the transparent liquid, before the man hands it to Jisung.
“Thank you,” your best friend says, taking a sip from his extravagant beverage. “And now, show us the banana boxes, cowboy.”
🔍
Chan drops you off at your apartment first since it’s the first stop on his route. You can tell from the look on his face that he wants to say more—he’s incredibly proud of you, really. But in the back of his head he knows there’s a bit more left that needs to be discussed.
Or is there?
You agreed that this will be a one time thing but for some reason fucking out that persistent tension just confused him more.
This will be a future-Chan’s problem, he decides, as he watches you enter your building. 
The hallway is a little cold, indicating that autumn really is right behind the corner. Before heading upstairs you choose to take a quick look at the mailbox, guessing that Minho probably hasn’t checked it today. Sometimes letters or announcements reach you on Friday evenings.
The keys slide into the lock, opening the metal object. In fact, you find a single sheet of paper in there.
A beige envelope touches your fingertips.
A daisy is attached to it.
Weird.
Your name written on it in dark red letters, reminding you of nothing else than blood.
You rip the cover off the letter, before you start reading it.
‘Welcome back home after a long day of solving cases and fucking your boss. Maybe you’re a better detective than I thought. Oh, my bad, I meant slut. Make sure to lock the door next time, babes. 
Truly yours, your biggest fan,
— L.’
The piece of paper lands on the floor and so do you, when your knees give out. Tears start streaming down your face, blinding your vision.
Letters: 3
Suspect: unknown
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🤍 AUTHOR’S NOTE: thank you for reading this first chapter. this is the longest I've ever worked on a fic considering I started this last October (ignoring how Miroh is crying in the distance). I hope you liked this first part. I'm a bit insecure since it's a completely new genre for me and all. However, I'd very much appreciate it if you interact with the chapter in case you enjoyed it. Reblogs and comments are what motivates us authors the most! Thank you for considering this and for reading the whole chapter, have a nice day! :)
© j-0ne25 2023 | copying, translating or stealing my work is prohibited]
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ch4nb4ng · 5 months
Text
STAN
CHAPTER [I] of CASE 143 — [18+!]
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“You’re probably my favourite person around here, so if someone threatens you, I’m automatically involved, too.”
“Sir, I–“
“Y/N, we’re not at work,” he reminds you. “You don’t have to address me like this.”
You nod, “Oh, sure—but Chan, there’s nothing to worry about, really.”
“I will protect you nonetheless,” he assures you.
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🔍 SYNOPSIS: On top of overworking yourself and taking care of your brother who’s in the middle of his divorce, anonymous hate threats reach you. Luckily, your good friend and boss is there to ease your mind—maybe in an unconventional way…
🔖 CONTENT INFO: chan x afab reader, hyunjin x afab reader, jisung x afab reader; angst/smut/fluff; detectives/crime au, they are all detectives, chief inspector chan, ex boyfriend hyunjin, best friend and detective partner jisung, step brother minho, reader has adhd, they are all flawed characters; possible hints to brooklyn 99 and eminem lyrics; help why does it look as if chan is staring at the cat (aka dori) in the pics above lmao; warnings and smut tags under the cut (include spoilers)
📋 WORD COUNT: 10.3K
📸 WARNING: anonymous threats and hate messages, implied stalking, mention of criminal activities (duh they are detectives), topics of unrequited love, brief mention of cheating, mental health topics such as adhd, mention of divorce and heartbreak (reader’s brother), alcohol consumption, slut shaming
⛓️ SMUT: dom/sub dynamics, semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), semi-protected piv, choking (f receiving), hair pulling (m receiving), slight marking (f receiving), slightest spit play, praise, slightest degrading, name calling (good boy, babygirl, sweetheart)
📦 SPOTIFY PLAYLIST
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Your tea’s gone cold. You’re wondering why.
Why you.
Why now.
Why did you get out of bed at all if you have to deal with bullshit like this?
You know your job is tough. Maybe one of the toughest out there but never in five years of working here, you’ve experienced something like this.
Once more your eyes hover over the bright screen, flashing shut when they get on one level with the first message.
‘Your work as a police officer makes my head hurt. Genuinely, you can’t expect criminals and their friends not to come after you, when you make such obvious mistakes. I know all your secrets, Y/N.’
The thick lump that’s been created in your throat gets swallowed, gliding down and landing in your cramped stomach. You’re looking for any severe signs again, when you soak in every detail of the text, searching for indications to differentiate between an insignificant prank or a serious matter.
You’re a detective after all—the fact someone is coming after you, spreading false information anonymously to your office, gives you some alarming tautness. Revenge calls or emails reach your office quite often, considering the fact you’re putting criminals locked up behind bars. It’s nothing new that related individuals come after you and your colleagues.
But this—it’s different. The author has included things that none of the criminals or their friends could have known, it’s personal information you’ve only ever shared with close friends. On one hand, it’s limiting the multitude of possible suspects; on the other hand—it scares you for life, knowing the culprit could be near you, even capable of sharing your deepest secrets.
Then your eyes align with the author’s sign again, one thousand thoughts per second doing sprinting sessions inside your skull, making your head all dizzy.
‘– L.’
Where have you ended up here?! A cheap remake of Pretty Little Liars or Gossip girl? The only thing missing is an ‘xoxo, you know you love me’.
And all of this would be hilarious, actually quite entertaining, if the worries wouldn’t creep inside your body like a huge army of tiny little ants. 
You read the message one last time. ‘When you make such obvious mistakes’—possibly, or more definitely, just bluffing. So you decide to get back to your actual case, searching for more clues hinting towards that growing drug cartel.
Maybe the messages are connected to them. This would make anything both easier and dangerous for you but they’d simultaneously hand themselves to you on a pretty shining silver plate. You dig deeper, gathering together all the evidence you already have. After another hour of focused work, you’re getting closer to the bottom of this mystery revolving around the cartel.
Until another mail gets sent to your work account, similar to the first one, the sign on the bottom proves it’s the same person.
‘I’m closer than you think I am, babes. I’m always one step ahead of you, creeping into your office, reading all the evidence you’ve collected. The way you document your work is much of an eyesore. Maybe fix that first and you’ll get what you’re looking for. xx. kisses but no hugs for you. – L.”
Yeah, so it’s both Pretty Little Liars and Gossip Girl.
The oxygen inside your lungs hitches, as you halt in place. This is getting ridiculous. Ridiculously stupid. It’s as if the author has just tripped themselves with the message.
After years of work experience, not only you but also your boss and colleagues know, there’s no one more talented when it comes to all things organizing than you. Binders and folders in different colours, an incredibly precise view on every tiny detail surrounding you as well as highly developed stamina when it comes to any case—a biography of Y/L/N Y/N.
There’s nothing making its way slipping through your fingers. You’re aware of everything. So the fact this person is coming after your biggest skill, makes you hold back a giggle. You’re confident in what you’re doing, they can’t get at you for or with this. 
“Everything alright, Y/N?” Your boss asks, startling you from your focus on the syllables on the bright screen in front of you.
Chan has always been like this—easily concerned, especially when it comes to his fellow detectors, especially when it comes to you.
You’re one of his best, officially. You’re the best, unofficially. He wouldn’t admit that to your coworkers but deep down he knows and lets you know as well.
So, of course he instantly caught up on the fact that you seem a little off today, a little distracted.
“W-Well,” you start, deciding it’s best to let Chan know about those two letters in case they’re important for a current crime, “I’ve received these messages today and I’m not sure if they’re just bluffing or something serious. It’s keeping me a bit busy, if I’m honest.”
He gets a little closer to you who is still sitting in their chair. The chief inspector leans a bit over your desk, pretty near to you now. His fingers land on the computer mouse, helping him scroll through the abstruse messages.
“Hm, let me see,” Chan says, reading the sentences attentively. You can sense it by the look on his face that he’s fully focused. His brain works fast—maybe not as fast as yours—but he’s always one step ahead, already contemplating how to handle this odd and scary situation.
However, he’s also very rational. He may be concerned on the inside, but he’s also the team’s leader. It’s his duty to provide security to his detectives. The messages scare the shit out of him—especially considering that they are directed to you, his best investigator, whom he’s good friends with and also has a hopeless crush on. He wouldn’t ever confess that, but he can’t change his feelings towards you.
That’s why it breaks his heart that the following words he’s about to speak, will downplay the anxiety those anonymous hate messages create in your head.
“Sounds like a prank to me, to be fair.”
A prank?
Of course, you’re not feeling threatened per se—especially when receiving an untrue accusation like this—but better safe than sorry, right?
What if there’s a criminal behind this who you caught some time ago? There are probably some lost souls out there that are out of jail and out for revenge.
At least that’s a logical explanation for that abstruse text. 
‘I’m closer than you think I am, babes.’
It must be someone you know, someone who believes you did harm to. You’re a detective after all, it’s your job to arrest criminals or guilty people who (believe they) aren’t.
You’re an overthinker, too. Which is kind of annoying in this setting, to be fair.
But better safe than sorry, right?
“Sir– this person claims to know hidden information about me or our precinct. Maybe they’re even connected to the drug cartel,” you explain your worries without trying to seem too anxious.
You can see it in his eyes—Chan does want to say more, he feels what you feel. He’s probably the most empathetic person you know, especially when it comes to his close ones.
Especially, when it comes to you. He catches himself way too often—captured in a spiral of thoughts he shouldn’t have about his younger colleague. But there’s just something about that combination of your utmost intelligence, your empathy that’s basically as huge as his own and we haven’t even talked about your looks yet—you’re his type, really.
Chan would ask you to go out with him on the spot. However, there are enough reasons against this. First, you’re coworkers, which would make anything beyond friendship hella complicated. Second, he’s not ready for something serious right now. It just doesn’t fit his current life, unfortunately.
So, one could assume the two of you could just start a physical agreement instead. The tension is there, you can’t deny it, even though it’s unspoken. He noticed you ogling his hands earlier and he bets that your heartbeat increased when he leaned over your desk. It’s always like this. He has also observed that whenever he wears one of those shirts that cling tightly to his chest, you seem to visit his office more often than on a regular day.
His assumptions aren’t just assumptions. If Chan asked to bend you over his desk, you wouldn’t even think twice and you feel absolutely ashamed that these thoughts stay in your head while you’re trying to find a solution for a very serious situation. Fuck. You need to get laid.
Utmost tension is lingering in the air but Chan catches himself. He has to stay professional. Focus on those anonymous threats. Besides that—it’s just two messages. There will be a harmless explanation for that—maybe some teens playing a prank or whatever the youth is up on TikTok or wherever right now.
“I understand your concerns, Y/N, but we can’t do much for now. Just leave it as it is and we’ll see.”
Chan has always honoured your certainty and work ethic. He’s a person you look up to, someone whose opinion matters a lot to you, if not the most—so you try to follow his advice.
It’ll be hard. You dearly pray the messages will stop, that it really is just some joke. You can’t handle anything like this right now—not with all the shit that has been haunting your life lately.
These past months have been… a lot. Work and private wise. You’re basically working in your freetime, trying to solve all the cases that have been asserted to you. When you come back from work after your shifts, you can’t fully relax.
You don’t mind that your stepbrother is temporarily living in your apartment—after all, his soon to be ex wife is still occupying his old one and the poor guy is too emotionally overwhelmed to even talk to her. It’s new, seeing him like this. It breaks your heart, really. Minho is such a strong, independent man and fell for a woman like that. You’re glad he’s out there—even if the limited space and his whining at night gets the best of you.
But when you look at the picture on your desk—a group selfie of Chan, Minyeong, Jisung and you—it reminds you it’s not so bad. You know that you can count on them if things get rough—no matter if it’s related to work, your family situation or those threats.
🔍
“Y/N, wait.”
You can’t overhear his voice—it’s one of your faves after all. Not because you have a huge crush on its owner. It’s solely because of the sound—after all, Jisung used to be a musician a long time ago.
Little rushed steps get closer to you, the noises mixing together with his words.
“I’ve got some clues considering the drug cartel.”
That’s when you halt in place. Your thoughts might be all over the place—even more than on a normal day—but this information lets hyper focus kick in.
However, you’re just about to take your lunch break. You’re exhausted, have been working on some cases for six hours straight and the growling of your stomach is driving you insane.
Your detective partner finally reaches you, gasping for air—sometimes you wonder how he joined the police with that lack of athletic skills—as he places his hand on your shoulder.
Jisung does that a lot. With anyone and everyone. He is a very touchy person, one could say.
You’re not. You’re kind of the opposite, unsure if it’s to blame on your neurological background.
However, it feels comfortable if it’s Jisung. Not because you have a huge crush on him. It’s solely because he makes you feel secure and comfortable, it’s because you can trust him which isn’t surprising considering he’s your partner.
But no matter what he’s about to say, you need your well deserved break.
“Can’t it wait until after lunch?”
Jisung looks at you like a little fawn stares into a car’s front lights.
That is very untypical of you.
Who are you and what did you do to his best friend?
He tilts his head, getting a little closer. Usually, you’re invested in the cases even after work, putting all your effort into finding out the truth. That’s what you’re popular for at your police department, that’s what your colleagues admire you for—especially Jisung.
“Is everything alright?”
No, but I don’t want to talk about it.
You avoid his gaze, “Why wouldn’t it be?”
The fake smile that’s plastered all over your face is pathetic, really, and of course Jisung doesn’t need a second to realise.
“Come on,” he slightly nudges your shoulder, catching you off guard, “you can tell me everything, you know that, right?” 
I do know that, Sungie.
You’re best friends, have been for a few years now and you can count on him, trust him with your whole life. There’s no one you’re closer with—despite maybe your stepbrother. But the difference between them is that you don’t have a huge crush on the latter, obviously.
Well, of course you don’t have feelings for Jisung either. You’re best friends. Just that. Nothing more.
At least that’s what you’re trying to convince yourself of in order to protect your stupid little heart.
“It’s–“
You cut yourself off. It’s already hard to discuss all the stuff that’s on your mind, so sharing your inner thoughts in the middle of the hallway doesn’t seem like the brightest idea.
“Let’s go get some lunch, the food is on me, okay?”
You nod and follow Jisung to the cafeteria, allowing him to choose a nice and warm meal for you, before he pays for it. The both of you take a seat near the window, making it easier to watch the droplets of rain hit the glass that’s separating you from them.
“A… a lot of stuff happened,” you start the conversation, “I told you about the thing with my brother—seeing him in pain like this hurts me too and demands lots of energy that I don’t have right now.”
As if it’s the most normal thing in this world, Jisung grabs your hand and you let him. You’re not really into physical touch but for some reason it’s different with him. He’s a special person. Your special person.
On the contrary, your best friend loves skinship. It’s definitely one of his love friendship languages. Sometimes he feels like a perv almost, whenever he searches for another excuse to touch you—not in a creepy way, he’s not disrespectful, but he craves being close to you.
Not because he has a huge crush on you. It’s solely because you make him feel secure and comfortable, it’s because he can trust you which isn’t surprising considering you’re his partner.
Definitely. Not because of the fact that he has feelings for his best friend that he shouldn’t have.
But whenever Jisung gets closer to you, when you initiate a cuddle session or ask for a warm hug, when you let him place an absolutely platonic kiss on either your forehead or your cheek, he enters the spiral of daydreaming again.
Two problems occur with this.
First, if he’s completely honest, the man is madly in love with you but too much of a coward to admit that. He wants to be more than your friend but he’s also aware that things would get absolutely complicated considering you’re not only his colleague but also his partner—ignoring the totally obvious fact that you probably don’t like him back.
Second, those innocent little touches awaken thoughts that let his brain shut off because all the blood inside his head wanders down to his dick. He’s a man after all and working with a detective that’s both incredibly hot but also super smart, which turns him rather dumb. He catches himself thinking unholy ideas way too often. The images of you underneath him, begging for more, being guided to the final level of a dangerous game called intimacy—all of them are living rent free in his head.
Whenever these forbidden thoughts appear, he stops himself immediately. At least he tries to. You’re his best friend, you’re his partner—you both have developed the perfect basis of trust over the years, he won’t tear down those stable walls for a one night stand.
Or worse—for a confession of his love for you, knowing you won’t return the feelings anyway.
So he just sits there in silence, enjoying your presence either way, reminding himself that you’re currently pouring your heart out to him—oh, God, he is a fucking pervert.
Stop thinking with your dick, Jisung.
“So, yeah, that’s it,” you finish your monologue.
At least Jisung was able to pay attention to what you were saying, which also leads him to the next dilemma—you’re not telling him the entire truth. Jisung knows you like the back of his hand. He just feels if something is wrong, sometimes even before you grasp it.
“There’s more bothering you. Tell me about it, come on.”
Fuck.
You shouldn’t have those thoughts, really. But there’s something about this demanding aura that he carries very rarely, that makes your head spin ridiculously. The unholy images are already making their way into your mind—possessing you with the idea of being pressed against the mattress by Jisung, begging him for more, as he guides you to your sweet relief.
This is a serious situation, Y/N. Stop thinking with your pussy.
“Sungie, it’s nothing serious.”
You never call him by his nickname at work. He knows that and he knows that you know it too, judging by the way your eyes widen once you’ve noticed your mistake.
“I won’t repeat myself. Tell me.”
When you see the seriousness in his eyes, you’re able to switch back to normal. Having your best friend worry about you is the last thing you want.
So, you take a deep breath, deciding to just drop the frightening information.
“There were two mails sent to my work account filled with anonymous threats.”
Jisung’s eyes threaten to fall out by the way he’s staring at you, in utter shock. 
“W-What?” is all that makes it out his mouth.
You watch where your bodies connect, when he squeezes your hand tighter. Jisung tries to gather up the correct words, trying to both ease your mind while he is already searching for a solution.
He’s scared. He won’t admit that in order to not worry you even more, but it’s a lot to hear what you just said.
Just when he is about to finally speak, Minyeong and Soyeon take the empty seats beside you.
“No, I’ve told you, I can bring the wine for the party,” Soyeon announces, a tray with her lunch being placed on the spot on the table in front of her. She’s right beside you, giving you a soft smile, just checking in.
Minyeong does the same from the other side. You told her about the things going on with your brother. After all, she’s your best friend. Your colleague was the one who got you into this job in the first place—like some others who are part of the department, you didn’t study to become a detective.
The same counts for Soyeon and Jisung—they both met in college, majoring in music but unfortunately great success never really reached them. They wanted to do something that helps people, similar to their arts, so they ended up here.
Minyeong and Chan, as well as the other fellow detectives, actually went to a school to prepare them for their job, which leaves you a little insecure from time to time. It’s not as if you’re bad at what you’re doing—objectively speaking, you’re one of the best investigators the city of Seoul has ever had. But knowing you have a different background—studying abroad in Prague for five years just to get out there with the worst grade of the year—leaves you unsure about your life choices from time to time.
“I’ve told you as well, Soyeon,” Minyeong starts again, “I can bring mead with me.”
Jisung looks a little dumfounded, before he intervenes, “What? Meat? Why would you bring raw meat instead of wine?”
Your other best friend chuckles and you join her, unable to not giggle about your shared friend’s question. Laughing along with your closest loved ones helps you forget about all the issues you have to deal with for a second. You’re glad they’re with you.
“Not meat, Ji. Mead. It’s honey wine. I’m from a family of beekeepers, you know.”
His jaw falls open, when he finally gets what his colleague means. It’s adorable, really. Not even in a way that it’s connected to your crush on him, but Jisung is an absolutely funny guy without even trying.
“I don’t see a problem with bringing different types of wine—the more, the better,” you suggest.
Your friends instantly nod, as Minyeong says, “Sure! Let’s listen to Y/N, she’s absolutely right. This is gonna be a fun work party.”
You’ve never liked work parties but with the right people surrounding you, like your kind colleagues, you’re actually looking forward to it.
After planning a little further, considering the get-together is already this evening, you finish your lunch just in time to get back to your files and cases as well as in order to escape Jisung. He knows how much you value your focus kicking in at work so whenever he sees you between all the paperwork and behind your computer, he won’t disrupt you.
Most people say your ADHD holds you back from being a good detective and while you agree on an everyday level, knowing your circumstances have always made life a lot harder for you, you don’t agree when it comes to investigation. You’re convinced the fact your brain is working a little differently helps you observe situations from a different point of view that nobody else thinks of.
Jisung has the same opinion about this. Despite you being his closest friend and partner, he values your intelligence and skills and absolutely admires you for it. That’s why he is rushing to your desk, files under his arm, ready to present you the new clues he has regarding the drug cartel case you’ve been working on for nearly a year now.
“Look at this,” he says, showing his notes to you. 
Money laundering isn’t anything unusual when it comes to organised crime and you for sure don’t have to be a detective to know that oftentimes restaurants, stores or other little shops and companies are used for hiding evidence about drug deals.
That’s what led your partner to a little shop in the suburbs, since he suspects them to hide their packages of cocaine and other substances somewhere in the store. Nothing unusual when it comes to stuff like this. You should visit the shop, maybe find some hints if you’re lucky enough.
The clock hits almost three. Your initial plan was to give your paperwork some attention but this has to wait for now. When Chan gives both of you the green light and allowance for investigating the shop undercover—together with the police dog Bbama—you head towards your destination.
🔍
It’s a good thing Bbama doesn’t look like his profession and neither do you in your civilian clothes. It makes finding some clues a little easier. When you reach the store, the owner is very friendly, offering to help you with what you’re looking for—as he believes you’re just normal customers—but you decline.
The dog is the real main character here. Jisung, his official owner, trained him very well, so that no one notices his odd behaviour. It’s nothing unusual for dogs to attach their noses to whatever scent hits them and the salesman doesn’t seem to be bothered either. You spend a few more minutes inside the store, even getting pretty close to their storage room but Bbama doesn’t seem to find anything.
In case this shop is connected to the drug cartel, they either hide their cocaine in the storage room that you don’t have access to or somewhere entirely different. Unfortunately, this isn’t enough to send a SWAT team here, the evidence is still missing. Jisung’s ideas are mainly based on an old case where the store was involved in some weed dealing, but that was all there was.
Fuck. A whole fucking hour for nothing.
It feels as if you’re starting from zero again—not only with your detective related things but also with everything else in life.
Fuck it. Just make the best out of it and leave, like normal customers.
You grab two bottles of water and pay, locking eyes with the owner, as a shiver runs down your spine, before you leave the store. The clues are still missing, but after basically staring into this man’s soul, you’re one step closer again.
“I’m sorry, Y/N, I was so sure that they are involved in–“
“They are,” you state.
Jisung stops in his tracks and you turn around, looking at him with a sly grin.
“What?”
You chuckle, “They are involved. But the drugs are hidden somewhere else. It was the right thing to go there.”
Jisung is confused. He knows your thought processes work a little differently, but he doesn’t understand what makes you so convinced that the little store is involved in such a huge criminal case.
“How do you know?”
You shrug your shoulders, “Gut feeling.”
Fairly speaking, detectives should always base their ideas on rationality and not emotions but you saw it in the salesman’s eyes, that he’s keeping a secret. You just need more clues to connect the dots. The worst case scenario is that he realised that Jisung, Bbama and you are cops—maybe that’s why he behaved so uneasy behind the counter.
“I trust you,” Jisung says all of a sudden, catching you off guard.
“Really?”
You don’t understand why he believes you if your assumptions are based on practically nothing. But it isn’t the first time your strategy is like that—in nine out of ten times you were right when using a good mixture of rational thoughts and emotions.
“Yeah. You’re the best detective I know.”
You feel heat creep up to your face but in the dim lights inside the car park Jisung doesn’t seem to notice. When you reach his vehicle, he opens the door for you, making your heart skip yet another beat. Bbama stays on your lap and he falls asleep right after Jisung leaves the parking spot.
Your best friend stops at a red light, winker indicating he’s about to head back to the department. But you need some time for yourself, that’s why you ask, “Can you drop me off at my apartment? I need to change clothes and check up on my brother.”
He looks at you, being reminded of the collection of dilemmas you’re carrying with you these days. So, he nods, “Of course.”
Although he loves Soyeon and Minyeong just as much as you do, it was a shame the two women interrupted you earlier. Jisung can feel the anxiety creep into his soul again, as he remembers what you told him.
He wants to ask more. He needs to ask more. He has to make sure you’re okay and safe.
But just when Jisung is about to ask you what you meant with the anonymous threats earlier, finally gathering up enough courage to speak, you reach for your bag, searching for something. You grab a book that’s enveloped in a glittering cover, placing it on your lap, just right beside Bbama who is deep in his slumber, almost snoring louder than the car’s engine. Reaching for the keys just in case Minho isn’t at home yet, you attach them to your belt.
“What book is this?” Jisung asks, deeply mesmerised by the shimmering look. Sometimes he’s like a little child, amazed by something like this.
You didn’t even notice that you haven’t put the book back into your bag again. Your hands hover over the cover, colliding with the glittering particles.
“Oh, it’s part of a series called Levanter by Lidka Juřicová,” you explain, “I have read it a million times, honestly. Bought it back in the days in Prague.”
Ah, how fast the train of nostalgia hits you. Scents of knedliky and trdelník entering your nostrils, the taste of kiwi juice that tastes like chemical sugar lingers on your tongue and the vision of the Charles Bridge is basically in front of your eyes.
The author wrote another series that you used to adore a lot. Freeze. An enemies to lovers disaster. But the male lead reminds you too much of the guy in Czechia that recommended the book to you.
Hwang Hyunjin.
And his little side fling Jade.
Yikes.
“What’s it about?” Jisung asks, genuinely interested but also trying to distract you from anything else.
“A love story… you know me,” you begin, chuckling a bit, embarrassed, “just a typical mafia thing—I know it's ironic to read that as a detective but I swear it’s for research. Friends to lovers, lots of drama, you get it.”
Jisung is still very confused. In more than one way. He’s not really into literature so he doesn’t get what you’re referring to. However, he notices a little detail—friends to lovers. That could be you if you just gave him a chance.
Stop being delusional, Jisung.
“I… don’t. But it fits you, I guess,” is what he says.
You open the book, flicking through the pages as the smell of paper fills the car.
“Anyway—this is part one of the series, this book is called Medicine. Actually—you know what’s funny?” The book gets placed on Jisung’s lap now, as the sudden touch startles him. “You should definitely read it.”
He blinks once. He blinks twice. “Why is that? I m-mean, yeah of course.” 
You have incredible taste and I would do anything you recommend me to do, Jisung thinks.
His eyes switch down to the book and back on the street again. You’re almost there. Maybe driving one hundred and twenty on the freeway wasn’t the brightest idea when you and his little feelings for you are in the car with him. He slows down, just in time to enter the exit and head towards your street.
The vehicle stops when he is right in front of your house. Unbuckling the seatbelt, you get up and catch a last glimpse of your best friend and the book in his lap—pushing away the fact that you’d love to sit right there, too.
“You’ll see, when you read it,” you say, a wink following, before you exit the car and walk towards your building. Jisung watches you disappear behind the front door, his fingertips grazing over the glittering cover one last time before he drives off to his own apartment.
Later that day, just right between getting ready for the party, when he starts reading the first few pages, he realises what you were hinting at.
The main character’s name is Y/N.
Unfortunately, Jisung doesn’t read enough chapters to realise the male lead is carrying his own.
What a coincidence, considering the fact you purchased that book way before even knowing him. Jisung isn’t a superstitious person at all. But you are.
🔍
“Hey, Min. How’s it going?”
Although you used the keys to get inside, you find your brother sitting on the couch, snuggled up underneath a blanket. It’s getting colder outside, for sure, autumn ready to get everyone’s attention but it’s not freezing enough to cover oneself with sheets. Something tells you that Minho is seeking comfort.
That’s why you head to the kitchen—that is the same room as the one your brother is in, considering you live in a studio apartment—making some hot chocolate for the both of you.
“Fine, fine. Dori and I went outside for a little walk but she was very brave despite it being an unknown neighbourhood for her.” Hiding between the books on your shelf, there she is, you can see her. “Weren’t you, baby?”
You’re glad your brother was able to rescue his cat from his ex’s place—you feel better around that little fur ball and he does too. 
Minho has been doing better these days and it does help a lot that he drowns his sorrows in cleaning your apartment. You believe it’s never been this tidy before. But as an introvert, the fact that the two, or well, three of you are sharing a studio apartment isn’t that easy. Your private life is basically dead, since you have to sleep in the same room as your brother (and his cat), increasing your stress level even further.
Handing him the hot beverage once it’s ready to be served, you join him under the blankets, watching whatever show he has put on. It’s not a show, per se, rather some animal documentation on Netflix but it doesn’t surprise you. Your brother is a veterinarian after all.
Little Dori’s paws step on the sofa as well, letting the cushion shift under her weight before she decides to crawl into your lap, making you her chosen one.
“You’re almost as unfaithful as your mother,” Minho says to his cat, referring to his ex. It breaks your heart and he can tell by the look you give him. “Chill, Y/N. Me making fun of the situation means I’m healing.”
He gives you a genuine smile and you opt for believing him.
“If you say so.”
He takes a look at his watch then, realising it’s getting late.
“Don’t you have to get ready for your party?” He asks and you immediately come back to reality. “You should look at least a bit decent for your colleague—what was his name, Jisung?”
You place Dori beside you, ignoring her protest, before you get up from the couch. But you come to a halt again when your brother’s words register in your head.
“Did you just call me ugly?!”
Minho lets out a loud chuckle, “Don’t change the subject, sis. Or wait—it was two of them, right? You also have a crush on your boss, don’t you? Maybe Dori and I should bet on who you end up with.”
He’s getting on your last nerve. You stomp towards you wardrobe, picking out the dress you have chosen for tonight. Laying the fabric on your shoulder, you head to the bathroom door.
You turn around one last time, before you warn your roommate, “Shut up, Minho, or you’re sleeping in the bathroom tonight.”
He clicks his tongue, grabbing Dori and placing her on his lap.
“Considering you’re going home with one of your coworkers, you can’t supervise that anyway, detective.”
You shoot him a glare that could for sure kill him.
“Fuck you, Min.”
“I love you too, you’re the best sister in the world.”
🔍
“Mead?” Minyeong welcomes you, when you enter the break room. You grab the glass she is offering you, clinking it together with hers before you take a sip. The wine tastes immaculate, like nothing else you've ever had before. Of course, your bestie always brings you lots of bottles for free but this seems to be a new type.
“You look stunning,” she adds, referring to your short black dress.
“You too,” you reply.
The room gets fuller with each hour and drink that passes. You’re currently snacking on some crisps, occupied in a conversation with Minyeong and Eunjoo, another one of your coworkers. Both of them grew up in the same smalltown, always willing to share funny nostalgic events with you. Although you don’t know any of the people they are talking about, it’s still entertaining to just listen to them.
Soyeon joins you a couple of minutes later, inviting you for a round of shots. She brings four little glasses with her, filled to the brim with soju. Each of you reaches for one, before you listen to the sound of them colliding. When the transparent liquid hits your tongue and warms your belly, you know that tonight will help you get your mind off of all the stress of these past weeks.
You’re practically dancing the night away—trying to forget about everything. The messages. The mess your brother is in. The feelings for Jisung. That ongoing tension with your boss.
Speaking of the devil—none other than Chan approaches you, softly touching your shoulder in order to get your attention.
“Y/N? Can I talk to you for a second?”
You nod, giving him a soft smile, “Sure. What is it?”
“Alone. My office,” he says.
Following him, you realise that the alcohol is getting to your head but when you arrive in the room that belongs to the chief inspector, Chan offers you a bottle of water. He knows when you’ve had enough and possibly it isn’t the best time to talk to you about what's on his mind, but he needs to clear things up.
“I’m sorry how I reacted when you showed me the messages,” he says.
You haven’t expected him to tell you this. If you’re honest, you’re not putting much thought into this, after all he is your boss and supposed to stay professional in risky situations like these.
“It’s fine, I get it… you were just trying to calm me down and–“
“No,” he cuts you off. “If I’m honest, it scared me, too. But I have to stay professional, I’m your boss.”
Oh. You haven’t expected this either. In hindsight, it doesn’t surprise you, though. Chan has a big heart, a lot of empathy—which makes that crush even worse. You always try to convince yourself it’s just this—your boss is objectively speaking very attractive, a smart and confident man, a bit older than you and knows what he wants.
Who wouldn’t fall for that?
But you’re already confused about the feelings you have for your best friend, you can’t enter another drama like this.
“I understand,” you say, bringing yourself back to the current topic. “Why did it scare you, though?”
You’re not fishing for validation. At least not intentionally.
“Well… you’re probably my favourite person around here,” that much for staying professional, “so if someone threatens you, I’m automatically involved, too.”
“Sir, I–“
“Y/N, we’re not at work,” he reminds you. “You don’t have to address me like this.”
You nod, “Oh, sure—but Chan, there’s nothing to worry about, really.”
He takes a deep breath, as his eyes close. Fuck. He has to stop this. But being near you, alone in his office, watching you wear this skimpy little black dress, makes it hard for him to focus. Chan gets reminded of the fear in your eyes earlier, when receiving the anonymous threats. He wanted to pull you close, tell you it’s gonna be alright.
So, he decides to make up for that now.
“I will protect you nonetheless,” he assures you.
“You don’t have to–“
“Be honest, Y/N,” he starts again. “It does affect you, right? Even though it was ‘only’ two messages, you can’t get it out of your head, am I right?”
You agree, “There’s just a lot going on right now. I can’t focus. My mind's a mess and my whole body is filled with stress. But the party helps a little.”
He gives you a soft smile, before he walks a little closer to you. Chan wants to stop himself but his desires are taking over his mind and body, when he reaches for a strand of your hair, just to tuck it behind your ear. He observes your breath hitching, as he’s unable to hold back that smirk appearing on his face.
“I’m glad to hear that. You look amazing, by the way,” he says, voice dropping lower.
“T-Thank you,” is all that makes it past your lips.
Suddenly the room feels one hundred degrees hotter, tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. You know it’s wrong. So wrong. Chan is your boss. He is the chief inspector. You shouldn’t have those thoughts inside your head how he bends you over the table and pushes your dress up high, just to shove his cock into your cunt.
Slow down, Y/N. What the fuck?
“No need to be shy, I’m just speaking the truth,” Chan says and you believe him. A soft smile finds your face then.
But Chan isn’t the only one who is being plagued with visions he shouldn’t have. He blames it on the way you look at him, on the fact you’re trusting him so much and on the ongoing lustful atmosphere that always fills the room whenever you’re with him.
At least that are his excuses for when his mouth speaks faster than his brain can hold him back.
“If you ever…” Chan starts, already sensing he’s about to suggest the dumbest idea he’s ever had in his life, “need something to distract we could–“
So, he stops himself.
Although it’s too late.
“We could… what?”
His breathing stops for a second when he realises what he’s done.
“Never mind—I can’t say that.”
“Chan… please,” you beg with a pout, blaming it on the tense atmosphere in his office and the street lamp outside shrouding the room in a dim shade of yellow.
“This is… un- unprofessional…”
His gaze finds the floor but you're the one reaching towards his face now, as two of your fingers land under his chin, making him look at you again.
“We’re not at work, Chan. You don’t have to be professional,” you remind him with a wink.
Oh, God. You’re gonna be the death of him.
He clears his throat. “I– I wanted to offer that… if you need a distraction with all that’s going on, I know of a way to make you forget about everything.”
Slowly, his second guesses fly out the window, especially when he watches you clicking your tongue.
“Yeah? Tell me, what is it?”
He gets a little closer to you, confidence suddenly and finally washing over him.
“I said I will protect you. Let me take care of you, just for tonight.”
Pure lust is swirling in his eyes, hypnotising you even further.
“Okay.”
That’s all he needs to hear in order to connect his lips with yours. You’ve expected him to smash them against your own, but Chan opts for a slow pace, driving you even crazier with each second that passes.
He’s smirking against you, right before he allows you to slip your tongue into his mouth. Your boss pulls you closer, his palms attached to your lips. A moan escapes your mouth and you don’t see a need in holding back anymore.
The grip on your flesh wanders further, until his hands are right behind the back of your thighs. He pick you up and with one swift motion, Chan lets the both of you make a one hundred and eighty degree twist, before he approaches his office desk—of course, at a leisurely pace just to tease you even more.
Your ass meets the wooden surface and your friend takes a step back to capture the full view of your beautiful figure. When Chan saw you first in that pathetic excuse of a dress, all he wanted to do was tear it off your body.
That’ll be the next step of his plan.
And as if your minds are already connected, you seem to want the exact same thing, too, when you whimper, “Touch me, Chan. Please.”
In the blink of an eye, his lips crash into yours again but they aren’t staying there particularly long. Their destination is way further south, which, on the contrary, doesn’t hold him back from granting some attention to your neck first.
It’s a beautiful picture, really—the combination of your head falling back, as Chan creates an astonishing pattern on your throat that by now reaches down to your cleavage and makes him feel his cock strain against the pants that are getting tighter and tighter.
You guide his head further, deciding to take a part of the lead and Chan follows suit. He pulls your dress down, revealing your bare breasts—after all this piece has a built in bra—which basically makes him drool at the spot.
“Fuck,” is all he lets out.
“Sure,” you joke, making fun of his choice off words but Chan doesn’t pay any attention. He simply can’t when you’re in front of him, half naked, fucked out look decorating your beautiful face and he hasn’t even done anything yet.
You’ve wanted this for so long. He’s wanted this for so long.
But something is still holding him back. There, in the back of his mind are second guesses keeping him distracted. 
“Y/N– wait–“
You look at him like a deer caught in the headlights, “We can stop, if you want.”
He shakes his head no.
“No– I do want this, I do want you. But—I’m your boss and–“
“You’re not taking advantage of me,” you reassure him, “I want this just as much as you do. Also, I’m not tipsy anymore, I promise.”
He nods, glad you’re also sober, “I… I have bad experience with… sleeping with colleagues and–“
You decide to not contemplate who he might be referring to. It’s probably someone from his old department, anyway.
“It doesn’t have to mean anything. It’s a one time thing and I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”
Are you destroying your poor little heart with this? Possibly. But you need Chan right now. You can’t hold back anymore. If this is what it takes, then future-Y/N can deal with the consequences of your pathetic decisions.
“Okay,” Chan says, unsure if he prefers a no strings attached one night stand situation. After all, there are some rather serious feelings hiding in the deepest parts of his heart. “I won’t tell anyone either.”
“Good,” you say, your gaze flickering back to his moutg.
“Yeah,” he says, before a long pause follows. But observing his plump lips helps you gain back the confidence you need.
“Then go on, sir. Bend me over the table.”
Chan’s eyes turn dark and he chuckles, “Cute how you assume you’re in charge.”
A moment later you find yourself throwing your head back again, as Chan’s hands have finally made it under the dress. His fingertips are currently busy teasing your entrance, watching you squirm when they come in contact with your absolutely drenched underwear. Your panties are ruined but this is the last thing that’s on your mind right now.
After all, Chan is pushing the laces aside a second later, grazing over your sensitive bud with his thumb as two of his fingers circle around your hole. He watches how your breath hitches, when he pushes both of them at once into you.
You can’t hold back the moan that makes it past your lips and you don’t seem to want to. Not when he slides them in even further. There’s no way you can hold back, when your boss is knuckles deep inside you, filling you so nicely it makes you wonder what his hard cock will feel like caged inside your walls.
And then the unexpected happens—Chan drops down to his knees and pushes your skirt up higher, exposing your not so covered pussy to him and his office. A string of saliva hits your clit, although he technically wouldn’t need it, you think you’ve never been this wet before.
Your vision is already getting blurry and your mind seems to shut off completely, when his tongue collides with your bundle of nerves. Slurping sounds are echoing through the room, Chan lets out a few moans and curse words, not caring if anyone can hear the two of you. Luckily, his office is far away from the break room where the party is.
Your thoughts wander towards Jisung for a second but they are instantly cut off, when Chan curls his fingers, reaching that certain spot inside you.
“Fuck– you’re such a good boy,” you let out.
The praise makes him whimper, cry out and moan once more against your pussy.
“You like it when I call you a good boy?” you ask then. 
For a second, Chan detaches his mouth from you.
“Y-Yeah,” he stutters, getting back to business a second later, increasing the pace of his tongue in comparison to before, flicking it over your swollen clit.
It won’t take you that much longer—the sparkles are already blinding your vision, threatening to push you over the edge. Your hand finds his head, fingers entangled in his curls, as you help him guide you through your approaching climax.
“Channie–“
“Go on, babygirl. Make a mess on my fingers and tongue,” he encourages you.
And so, you do. Your legs are shaking, as the feeling takes over you, possesses your whole being as if it’s magic. Chan watches you come undone for him, his movements never stopping. Once you are back in reality—at least physically—he guardedly pulls his fingers out of you.
Guiding them towards you face, your hand wraps around his wrists, as you allow his digits to enter your mouth. You lick them clean, tasting yourself on his skin. He pulls them out once more, watching you with his darkened eyes.
“N-Need more, Chan,” you pout, already reaching for his pants, before you pull them down with his boxers in one go. His hardened length gets freed, making your mouth get filled with saliva—you’re basically close again and he hasn’t even started yet.
“Wait—condom?” he asks.
“I have an IUD… I’m fine without a condom, if you are.”
He nods, before his hand reaches for his cock, as he starts stroking himself, getting closer to your heat. The tip of his throbbing cock comes in contact with your aching hole, but Chan decides to tease you a little, when he brushes over your clit with it, forcing another moan out of you.
“I’ll fuck you so good, sweetheart,” he says with a smirk.
“Then do it, don’t let me wait any longer– FUCK–“
Your sentence gets cut off, when he slides into you without a warning but with another one of those chuckles. You’re glad he’s prepared you so well—Chan is thick, filling you so deliciously already. When he’s bottomed you out completely, his gaze shifts up to your eyes, searching for any second guesses.
Once you’re adjusted to his size, you give him a small sign and he starts moving.
The slow pace from earlier is long forgotten—it’s replaced with the speed of light instead but you don’t mind at all.
You know that neither of you will last long and although it makes you a little sad, knowing this is a one time thing, you're unable to fight against it. Chan is thrusting into you, making you forget your own name with his satisfying movements, as he fucks you right there on his office table.
Your boss watches your tits bouncing to the rhythm of his cock sliding in and out of you, deciding it’s the prettiest view his eyes have ever been granted. Especially, with your slightly parted lips, fullfilling the composition of that fucked out look on your face.
At least, that’s how he justifies his following words.
“Who would have known that a smart girl like you can be fucked dumb so easily.”
Oh, God. You definitely weren’t prepared for a comment like that but Chan knows you enjoyed it, when he feels you tightening around him.
“Chan– need–“ logic has left the room for the both of you. While you have trouble speaking proper sentences, Chan turns into a moaning mess himself. You’ve basically ruined each other by now. Your hand finds its way to his head again, fingers tugging at his curly strands but Chan knows how to take revenge when one of his hands, that’s currently placed on your hips, keeping you balanced, wanders upwards.
He wraps it around your throat and the slightest pressure is already enough for you—you’re once more clenching around him, dangerously close to your second orgasm of the night.
And when Chan brings two fingers right where you bodies meet, playing with your clit, you allow your body to get what it craves. When your walls tighten around him, he realises he won’t be able to hold back any longer either. So, he pulls out of you, stroking himself to that sweet relief, as you watch thick white ropes of cum collide with your stomach, some droplets landing on or running down to your pussy.
Your boss tells you to stay on the desk so that he can grab a towel from the bathroom. A minute later, he is back but it really feels as if just a few seconds have passed. While Chan is cleaning you, before he adjusts your pathetic excuse of a dress, an object enters your vision.
There’s a banana box in the corner of his office, used for anything but definitely not for storing the yellow fruit.
“Chan?”
His head turns around, finding your fragile figure.
“Yeah?”
You can hear nervousness in his voice, as he wonders if you regret what the both of you just did.
“What’s inside that box?” you ask, pointing at it.
Confusion pushes his anxiety away.
“Just… old paperwork. Are you looking for something? It should only include old cases of mine but if you need anything, go ahead,” he explains.
“So, no bananas?”
What are you on about?
“Why are you… asking about bananas?”
“I’ve got it,” you say, sliding down from the desk.
“Got what? You’re not making any sense.”
He chuckles, shyly, worrying that he’s the one who isn’t getting a very obvious hint. But sometimes your brain works faster than you’re able to speak which leads to a lot of question marks above the heads of the people you’re talking to.
“The drug cartel” you start, “I know where they’re hiding the cocaine. It’s not in the supermarket and neither inside the storage room of the shop—it’s in the banana boxes in the warehouse where they get their fruits from.”
Chan looks as if his eyes are about to pop out. Of course. Why hasn’t anyone thought of this before?
“You’re a fucking genius. We have to go there. Now,” he rushes you, grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you off the desk. His skin against yours makes your head a little dizzy but you decide to not read too much into it.
“Let me at least have a look in the mirror first,” you say, chuckling embarrassed.
“Do that, I’ll let the authorities know. We’re going undercover.”
You nod, before you disappear in the bathroom. It doesn’t take you long to make yourself look at least a bit decent—your brother’s words—but you know that the makeup has to wait. You can always do that while being in the car on your way to the warehouse.
“You ready?” Chan asks, once you join him in his office again.
You are. However, the overstimulation of all things happening lets you enter a spiral of thoughts.
Twelve months. A whole fucking year. Just for you to solve a case. You may not have arrested the suspect or suspects yet, but you’re basically on the finishing line.
“Chan?”
“What’s on your mind?” he asks.
You feel so dumb for asking this, for asking this right now in particular. But you need comfort. It’s a lot and for some reason your mind can’t handle good things happening to you when you’re bathing inside the shit show you call your life these days.
“Where am I supposed to go from here?”
You’re the definition of a perfectionist and overachiever.
Twelve months. You’ve spent twelve months trying to solve this case and now that you finally got the guilty one you’re—bored? Unsatisfied? Craving the next adventure?
Chan instantly gets what you’re referring to.
“Don’t worry, Y/N. You’re our best detective for a reason,” your boss compliments you.
You can’t help but feel the heat rising to your face. God. How on earth can you both talk about such work related issues just a few minutes after Chan was shoving his cock into your cunt, listening to all those pretty little whimpers you made.
Yeah.
Well.
Moving on.
“No… I am not the best one.”
You’re not fishing for compliments.
There are better detectives. Chan himself for instance. Otherwise he wouldn’t be the boss of the team.
“You’ve just solved a case we’ve been working our asses off for nearly a year now. You’re incredible and I’m not just saying this because… you know.”
Because you let me rail you on my office desk half an hour ago, he wants to say.
“I still don't know why solving this case would make me the best detective…”
You’re supposed to be the best detective of all time, huh?
Chan stops in his tracks for a second. “Well, all I know is—every time I think you’ve hit your ceiling, you go higher than you’ve ever fucking been.”
🔍
Approximately half an hour later you find yourself in the car with Chan, Jisung, Soyeon and Minyeong.
You don’t catch your detective partner investigating your looks—he clearly knows you went to Chan’s office with the boss himself, stayed there for like an hour and the fact you’re adjusting your makeup now probably can’t solely be blamed on the fact that the night isn’t that young anymore.
But he tries to push those thoughts away.
He doesn’t have a chance anyway. No matter if there’s something serious between you and the boss, you’d always choose the other one.
Chan is literally perfect. The chief inspector, a little bit older, muscular arms, firm chest—which Jisung knows about thanks to them going to the gym together occasionally—confident, rational. Just everything you need.
So, why should he waste any time wondering if he’s ever gonna be more than a friend to you?
You arrive shortly after, parking the car further away before you approach the huge warehouse. It doesn’t take you long to enter the building, considering people work here even at night, probably below minimum wage but that’s a case for another day.
“Who are you?” a male voice questions, revealing a middle aged man with silver hair, dressed in expensive attire—combined with a totally stupid looking cowboy hat, making him seem like a randomised sim.
You don’t want to be driven by prejudice but if that man isn’t connected to the drug cartel, you’re gonna quit your job and become an unemployed geologist again.
“Bang Chan. Chief inspector. We’ve got a few questions for you,” your boss introduces himself.
The unknown man has a grin decorating his face that’s supposed to cover sheer shock and panic.
“Follow me, then,” he offers, leading you to another room. You enter a ridiculously posh looking bar—everything is covered in velvet. Everything.
“Would you like a drink?”
You shake your head no, knowing you’ve still got a bit of alcohol in your system and Chan reacts the same way.
“So, how can I help you?” the suspected criminal asks.
Jisung steps in then, getting a bit closer to the bar.
“Oh you can’t– oh, well you actually can! Can I have a drink?” Your detective partner asks. “Everytime we are close to solving a huge crime case, I crave a drink.”
The man in front of him sighs, making his way towards the pretentiously huge bar. You can see his hands shaking in fear, as he speaks, “What would you like?”
Jisung looks around for a second, taking his time, pretending to make the most complicated decision in his life. But this is just one of his tricks, his strategy as a detective, if you will.
“Sparkling water.”
The criminal scoffs, before he grabs a bottle of ice cold water from his fridge. The fizzling sound fills the room, when the carbon dioxide escapes the water. A clean glass gets filled with the transparent liquid, before the man hands it to Jisung.
“Thank you,” your best friend says, taking a sip from his extravagant beverage. “And now, show us the banana boxes, cowboy.”
🔍
Chan drops you off at your apartment first since it’s the first stop on his route. You can tell from the look on his face that he wants to say more—he’s incredibly proud of you, really. But in the back of his head he knows there’s a bit more left that needs to be discussed.
Or is there?
You agreed that this will be a one time thing but for some reason fucking out that persistent tension just confused him more.
This will be a future-Chan’s problem, he decides, as he watches you enter your building. 
The hallway is a little cold, indicating that autumn really is right behind the corner. Before heading upstairs you choose to take a quick look at the mailbox, guessing that Minho probably hasn’t checked it today. Sometimes letters or announcements reach you on Friday evenings.
The keys slide into the lock, opening the metal object. In fact, you find a single sheet of paper in there.
A beige envelope touches your fingertips.
A daisy is attached to it.
Weird.
Your name written on it in dark red letters, reminding you of nothing else than blood.
You rip the cover off the letter, before you start reading it.
‘Welcome back home after a long day of solving cases and fucking your boss. Maybe you’re a better detective than I thought. Oh, my bad, I meant slut. Make sure to lock the door next time, babes. 
Truly yours, your biggest fan,
— L.’
The piece of paper lands on the floor and so do you, when your knees give out. Tears start streaming down your face, blinding your vision.
Letters: 3
Suspect: unknown
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🤍 AUTHOR’S NOTE: thank you for reading this first chapter. this is the longest I've ever worked on a fic considering I started this last October (ignoring how Miroh is crying in the distance). I hope you liked this first part. I'm a bit insecure since it's a completely new genre for me and all. However, I'd very much appreciate it if you interact with the chapter in case you enjoyed it. Reblogs and comments are what motivates us authors the most! Thank you for considering this and for reading the whole chapter, have a nice day! :)
© j-0ne25 2023 | copying, translating or stealing my work is prohibited]
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ch4nb4ng · 6 months
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ch4nb4ng · 6 months
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omg girl don’t stress ur fine !!!!!!
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Marital duties hitting so hard rn
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ch4nb4ng · 6 months
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Marital duties hitting so hard rn
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ch4nb4ng · 6 months
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thank u so much 🥹🫶🏼
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Hi,angels!!! So I have followers on this app (which is surprising because all I do is repost stuff lol) but I thought I’d share some of my favorite writers on here so that you guys can follow them instead!!
‼️please keep in mind that most of these accounts are most likely 18+ so if you are under the age of 18 or if it makes you uncomfortable DNI‼️
@daaawnnn
@tyunphoria
@therhythmafterthesummer
@lotus-dly & @ppiri-bahng & @linosnoot are all owned by miss Lotus💞
@channiesbakery
@cosmic-railwayxo
@like-a-diamondinthesky
@ilovehimyourhonour
@ch4nb4ng
@agi-ppangx
@astraystayyh
@hanjisick
@planet-dusk
@milkandhyunnie
@lixie-phoria
@nessinborderland
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ch4nb4ng · 6 months
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락 (樂) (LALALALA) | STUDIO CHOOM
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ch4nb4ng · 6 months
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HAN / '락' (LALALALA) @ INKIGAYO (231112)
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ch4nb4ng · 6 months
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Bang Chan ✧ LALALALA Studio Choom
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ch4nb4ng · 6 months
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I.N in "락 (樂) (LALALALA)" @ Inkigayo / 231112
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