#I screwed up and left this on my work computer

[goldenhourology]

SLACKING OFF.

pairing: jeon wonwoo x f!reader

genre: smut, angst, fluff, coworkers to lovers, friends to lovers

summary: being technologically averse, yet a complete control freak to your core, you tend to annoy senior IT specialist, jeon wonwoo, to no end. but after an apology brings you two closer together, wonwoo finds himself reaching out to you more often than not. on and off slack. despite what you two had originally perceived, you find yourself thrown into feelings that neither of you could've ever prepared for.

warnings: handjobs, fingering, oral (f!recieving), unprotected sex, missionary position, belly bulge, grinding, praise, wonwoo is a service top!!, multiple sex scenes, jerking it in an corporate office bathroom lol, drunk horniness, miscommunication, reader is learning how to open up<3, mutual pining. nsfw (minors / ageless blogs dni).

word count: 19.2k

note: hello new ppl, welcome to the first goldenhourology one shot ✨ I've written things in the past, but this is my first really long one shot. the longer it got, the more I stressed out lol. but I've seen a lot of people do this 20k word one shots, so I thought I'd try my hand at it! also idk much about tech, so if I got anything wrong in this, pls ignore it. thank you to anyone who gives this a read!!

in rotation: picture you, chappell roan / dress, taylor swift / valentine, laufey / diamond boy, sza

Some said your late 20s were the last few years of fun before you fully allowed yourself to be an adult, so why were you always drowning in work?

It didn’t help that you were an executive assistant in one of the biggest software companies in the U.S. When you took the job, surely, you should’ve known that you’d be signing up for an exorbitant amount of work, ranging from invoice management, planning travel for your boss, to even research for senior managers. Despite the constant stress you were under, you liked this job. You liked the trust that your boss had in you. You liked that they let you be independent and figure things out on your own.

And when you couldn’t … you simply contacted IT.

It helped that a senior IT specialist sat right across from your cubicle.

Jeon Wonwoo wasn’t the most talkative cubicle buddy, nor was he the most pleasant. He did his best to give you a smile every once in a while, but he had to fight the urge to throw his head in his hands whenever you send him a message on Slack. You didn’t typically need help with anything, except in the area of tech. You were so organized and incredibly smart – it didn’t take an idiot to see that – but god forbid, sometimes … you could be so technologically averse.

Maybe he just had too many years of schooling under his belt – he was 28 now with both a Bachelors and Masters in Software Engineering – but you surprised him with some of your requests. Sometimes, you’d delete files by accident, need to renew your subscription to important apps, even locked yourself out of your own computer once. He had interns underneath him that could be available to help you, but you had consistently messaged him. And he sat directly across from you. No matter what, it was always going to be Wonwoo that had to help you. Fate had made sure of that.

There were times that you realized you were bothering him. Either you heard him curse from behind his extremely large monitor or he adjusted his glasses so much that you thought he might break them in half. And to be honest, you liked being in control of your own work, so you’d try to find a solution. Typically, solving your own tech problems left your computer in more disarray.

And there was Wonwoo to save the day yet again.

You [10:58 AM]: Morning, Wonwoo!

You [10:58 AM]: I screwed up

You [10:59 AM]: Boss sent me some documents that were password protected, but he’s away for the next two days and not answering his phone

You [10:59 AM]: So I might’ve downloaded some software to help me unlock it and I think it’s attempting to hack my email as we speak

You [11:01 AM]: I’m so so sorry! I didn’t want to bother you

Jeon Wonwoo [11:01 AM]: I’ll be right over.

Luckily for you, Wonwoo was able to fix the problem and stop your email from getting hacked. Whoever was the owner of that virus-filled program you tried to download didn’t gain access to those password-protected documents before Wonwoo secured your computer. But it was close. Too close.

Not only that, but he had a multitude of other projects today. He had to train two new interns … have one of those annual performance reviews with the head of IT … change over a dozen new passwords for people … and then he found out that they’re changing servers. Which meant everything backed up on their former server had to be transferred over to the new one. Fucking great.

He wasn’t sure how many times he sighed today, but it had to be over a hundred. When he couldn’t stand to be sitting anymore, he stood up and paced around the third floor of the building. Today felt like the longest day of his life. And there was a mustard stain on his green sweater vest. And he got a shitty haircut a few days ago. And he probably needed new glasses because he was getting headaches. 

It was time for a coffee. As well as a day off.

Coincidentally, you were also headed to the break room that afternoon in need of a green tea. You were about to walk in when you heard your cubicle mate letting out a frustrated breath while talking to another IT specialist. He was clearly fed up about something, or maybe just tired of this day. You hid next to the doorframe, and just when you thought it was safe to step out, you heard your name fall from his lips.

“I don’t understand how she does it,” Wonwoo complained, hands smacking against his sides. “Seriously, it’s mind boggling. I’m pretty sure she has her Masters in Business Administration, but she does this shit that just makes me … Oh my god, she literally tried to download some faulty software off the internet today, instead of just asking me or someone else for help.” 

“Oh, yeah, everyone wants to turn to you when you got that attitude, man,” someone – Lee Seokmin, maybe? – joked.

“You get what a mean.” Wonwoo watched the first couple drips of shitty office coffee fill his cup. “I was able to save her computer, yeah, but it would be nice to avoid an emergency for a day.”

Seokmin slapped him on the back. “The joys of working in IT.”

You huffed, stalking away from the break room and back to your desk. There was only so much office gossip you could take, especially when it involved you. As soon as you sat down, you finished typing up an email at the loudest volume possible, your fingers basically punching themselves into the keys. You heard Wonwoo slide back into his desk chair, the fresh smell of burnt coffee wafting across to you, and he didn’t say a thing. Not that he would ever know you had eavesdropped. But not a “hello” or “how has computer been after this morning?” He went back to work, burning his tongue on the overly hot liquid.

Maybe Wonwoo was right; maybe you did need to just stop overthinking and ask for help instead of figuring stuff out on your own. Or maybe this asshole needed an attitude check.

You decided to not bother him for the rest of the week, complaining to your friends that Friday night about your shithead of a coworker. They said he might be looking out for you in his own fucked up way. You said he might just be an asshole.

Come Monday morning, you had realized your ignoring hadn’t effected him at all. He still sent you the same small smile as he walked in and sat down across from you. Could he really not see how pissed you are, or had the facade you’d crafted for so long as the perfect corporate employee work too well?

You should just be upfront with him, take control of the situation. Like always. 

You [9:44 AM]: I heard you in the break room a few days ago.

You [9:44 AM]: I just didn’t want to bother you. That’s why I had tried to figure out the issue on my own. Didn’t realize that was a crime

Jeon Wonwoo [9:46 AM]: Crap.

Jeon Wonwoo [9:46 AM]: You weren’t supposed to hear that.

You [9:47 AM]: Well, I did

Jeon Wonwoo [9:50 AM]: Listen.

Jeon Wonwoo [9:50 AM]: Not that it excuses anything, but there’s so much going on at work. It wasn’t all about you. I was complaining just to complain and I didn’t mean any of it.

Jeon Wonwoo [9:50 AM]: I’m sorry.

You [9:51 AM]: Wow

Jeon Wonwoo [9:51 AM]: What?

You [9:51 AM]: You’ve never come across as someone who can apologize well

Jeon Wonwoo [9:52 AM]: Are you sure you aren’t projecting right now? We sit across from each other. I’ve seen how stubborn you are.

You [9:53 AM]: I thought you were apologizing to me????

Jeon Wonwoo [9:56 AM]: I’m sorry. Again.

You [10:01 AM]: Okay, you’re forgiven

Jeon Wonwoo [10:09 AM]: Can I make it up to you with a coffee?

You didn’t go out on dates. The last one you went on was … years ago, probably in undergrad. Once you go for your Masters, all energy to date goes out the window.

Not that this was a date. This certainly was not a date.

This was an apology coffee after work, since the two of you seemed to have an affinity for caffeine at late hours.

Even if, per chance, he thought this was a date … you’d eventually have to let him down easy. It probably wasn’t in your best interest to date someone like Jeon Wonwoo, but you’d also closed yourself off from love for far too long. It wasn’t that you didn’t get lonely – you did, very much, especially on late nights where it was just you and your favorite vibrator – but it was just … scary. Opening yourself up. Losing just a small semblance of control. You weren’t even sure you could physically allow yourself to do that after being alone for so long. 

Your heart had been tucked away so many years ago, locked inside a box, and then in another box, and so on. With the final lock being so complicated that only someone who knew the last four of your social security number could answer. No one was opening up that box. Your heart was safe from the outside world.

You were independent, reliant on only yourself, and you liked it that way.

Once he had gotten both your coffees, he sat down next to you at a hightop table, folding his winter coat over the back of his chair. He had managed to remember your latte order and it tasted perfect. Your eyes flitted up, ogling him for a moment. When you’re not under the fluorescent lights of the office, Wonwoo was … attractive. To say the least. Maybe he always had been and you were too blind to see it. Maybe his face was perpetually hidden by his monitor.

His hair was tousled in the way that it looked effortless, even if he hadn’t brushed it after rolling out of bed. He had a tendency to wear sweater vests with white t-shirts underneath, or button-downs with jeans. But it was only when he showed off his forearms that you realized he was surprisingly built underneath his oversized clothes. He was tall and his shoulders were broad. You liked his glasses too; they always sat on the edge of his nose. A thin line was etched into both lenses, suggesting age, but they framed his face well.

Yeah, you thought to yourself, he is handsome.

“Why are you staring at me?” He asked, knocking you out of your stupor.

You blinked and looked down at your coffee, removing the lid. “Oh, I … uh … good question.”

“Listen,” he started, eyes flickering to his hands, “I’m really sorry about what I said –”

“You don’t have to keep apologizing.”

“– And I understand if you want to go to HR about this –”

You shook your head. “Wait, what? Why would I do that?”

He glanced around, until finally, his eyes were on you again. And suddenly, you were wondering if his eyes were dark brown or the color of cinnamon. “Isn’t that what any rational person would do?”

He had you stumped there. If this were a different situation … you probably would do that. “I’m not going to tell HR about this, Wonwoo. You apologized and said you didn’t mean it. I have to trust that.” And you didn’t trust lightly – hardly at all – but something about Wonwoo made you feel like it could be easy with him.

“We all have shit days,” you added, taking a sip of the scalding hot latte. “You have a ton of stuff on your plate. Doesn’t give you an excuse for what you did, but we all say things in the heat of the moment that we don’t mean. I have so many things to organize throughout the day, and sometimes it gets the better of me. Remember when I had book that last minute trip for our CEO and I was on the phone for hours with Delta and Suzanne in finance had the nerve to start bothering me about some invoice? I lost it on her for a straight minute.”

“Oh, my god, yeah,” he chuckled, pinching the bridge of his nose as the memory resurfaced. “Her eyes almost came out of her skull at your reaction. To be fair … Suzanne needs to be knocked down a peg sometimes. She always blames IT when she can’t get into her email, but it’s because she’s constantly typing her password with one letter off.”

You couldn’t help but giggle. Your hand hit the tabletop a few times as you let your workplace personality fade in front of your coworker. “Those new IT interns don’t know what’s coming once Suzanne comes for them,” you joked.

“The IT interns don’t know anything. Period.” He jabbed his finger onto the table. “I mean, they’re interns, but it takes so much time to train them. If I have to teach them JavaScript one more time …”

“Say it, Jeon Wonwoo,” you egged him on, a chuckle filtering at the end. “What will happen if you have to teach those good for nothing interns JavaScript?”

A slow smile made it’s way onto Wonwoo’s face, and … damn, you were actually a really cool person. “Well,” he cleared his throat, “I’ll tell you what will happen …”

Jeon Wonwoo [12:13 PM]: Did you bring lunch today?

Jeon Wonwoo [12:13 PM]: I just found this new cafe down the street and was thinking about grabbing something there in a few. Did you wanna come?

You [12:14 PM]: Do you think they have a chicken salad sandwich on the menu

Jeon Wonwoo [12:15 PM]: I can only assume so?

You [12:15 PM]: SOLD

You both go out for more coffees, before and after work. You found yourself excited to wake up early, to meet up with Wonwoo at the coffee shop located in the lobby of your work building. Always getting there before him, you typically ordered two coffees – remembering his order to a T – and when he walked in five minutes late, he promised to buy the next round. You never let him.

You began planning lunches over Slack, discussing what was on special at that cafe he found last month. In fact, you two talked most of the day on Slack. A message from you had once gotten on his nerves, and now … he was eager for it. Eager to hear your thoughts throughout the day, excited to talk about what new dumb question an intern asked him today or to see more pictures of your grandma’s cats.

And Wonwoo … Wonwoo was easier to get along with than you thought. You just had to peel back the layers before he finally got comfortable, and honestly, you could relate. To be fair, you had a few more layers than he did, but he was slowly learning that you were more than what he perceived. After that first coffee, he realized how funny you were, and then a couple lunches later, he learned you were an avid romance and thriller reader – and nothing in between. It wasn’t until last week that he finally cracked you open enough to learn about your love for Elder Scrolls Online. He was sure you were joking at first, but when you clarified how serious you were, he almost fell off his chair.

“I’m not shocked that you play it,” he said over coffee one morning. “What I’m shocked at is that you’d rather play Elder Scrolls Online and not Skyrim.”

“Of course, you would say that,” you replied, rolling your eyes. “I don’t really have an interest in the game universe. I started playing Elder Scrolls Online to relieve stress while applying to colleges, and then I just … didn’t stop.” You shrugged.

Much to his own surprise – even with your take on Skyrim – Wonwoo thoroughly enjoyed your company. It was insane that you both had spent almost two years sitting across from each other before realizing how much you liked each other. Words always left unsaid. Eyes staying glued to computers. It had been a routine for you both that you had never strayed from – until now. So many tech requests over Slack … and now he was actively looking forward to work everyday. To seeing you. To talking with you. 

You.

Jeon Wonwoo realized how much he liked stockings. Specifically, he liked the way you looked in them.

And that’s when things got dangerous.

He started to notice the days you would wear them, and then concluded which day you did laundry. You liked wearing blouses with a pencil skirt and stockings on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays. Those were now his favorite days. 

Wednesdays you’d wear dress pants and maybe a sweater, whereas on “Casual Fridays,” you were clad in a t-shirt with a cardigan layered and jeans. You always looked nice at the office, but those stocking days … they were getting to him.

Sometimes, he’d watch the way you walked away from your desk – either to the Boss’ office or to the finance department – and he couldn’t help but let his eyes trail down your legs. You had these stockings that had a slight tear in the back, and he wondered if you realized, or was he just too much of a perverted loser to be the first person to notice? He wanted to purchase a new pair for you. He wanted to replace all your stockings and buy you enough that you could wear them with a skirt everyday, just so he could see you in them.

Maybe he was a loser.

You looked up at him, even in heels, and you had this way of smiling at him that left him questioning why you liked hanging out with him in the first place. His personality couldn’t be that charming to warrant your attention. But you were warm – even when your hands were perpetually cold – and kind, never straying once he was in front of you. And you had this lip gloss that stained your lips magenta and made them shine. Even in the dim fluorescent lights. When his chair turned just slightly and he let his eyes glaze over you, one finger rubbing at his top lip, he couldn’t help but be curious if the gloss had a flavor to it … and then, he’d get distracted by your legs again. And your blouse, and your hair. 

Don’t even get him started on the way you smelled.

Maybe he was a loser. No, he was most definitely a loser. 

It was a Thursday night. Almost 7 PM and you were still at the office. You had plans to go out tonight to celebrate your friend’s new job, but you ended up having to cancel when the Boss placed a stack of paperwork on your desk before leaving the building at promptly 6 o’clock. Why he couldn’t have given you all these invoices and memos hours ago was beyond you, but you weren’t even halfway through this stack and the janitor was now mopping beside you.

When a Slack notification appeared on the side of your monitor, you didn’t even read it before spinning around in your chair. There Wonwoo was, leaning back in his own chair while a progress window ticked on one of his dual monitors. You raised a brow. “I didn’t even hear you over there,” you commented. “Why are you still here?”

“A month or so ago, the IT head told me that we’d soon be transitioning servers, so all of our backups and data need to be transferred over to this new server.” He explained, adjusting his glasses and glancing over at the progress window. It changed from 23% to 24% finished. “Someone had to be the lucky person to stay after hours and make sure it all went smoothly.”

You twirled a pen in your two fingers and crossed your legs. “Oh, that sucks.” Your skirt hiked up a little, and just that small flash of exposed skin had Wonwoo averting his eyes.

“Yeah,” he said, clearing his throat. “I’m assuming you’re still here because of that.” He nodded towards the pile of paper.

“No, no, obviously I love being here after hours with you,” you replied, sarcasm dripping from your tone, but it still ignited a short spark of hope within him. (Wonwoo, can you chill the fuck out? He chastised.) “You know the Boss has a penchant for letting invoices pile up. He just so happened to let that pile end up on my desk before he left today. And some of these needed to be filled out …” Your eyes skimmed the first paper on your desk. “Oh, yesterday!”

Wonwoo offered to help you while also keeping watch of his computer – 28% finished – but you insisted you could handle it. “I already bother you enough during work hours,” you said before turning back to your desk. He knew by now that you were simply too stubborn to give up control of the project. Once you had started it yourself, you needed to see it through. He wasn’t sure if you two were close enough that he could be completely honest, that he could tell you that it was fine to let go this independence that you kept on a tight leash. He was willing to help. (God, was he willing.) 

But he chocked it up to telling you once that you were “so fucking stubborn.”

Your reply had come in the form of a swift kick to his knee.

Wonwoo glanced at his monitor. 67% finished.

It was 10 PM and you were just about finished with the paperwork, but you were running on fumes. Just a few memos left and you’d be done. To get you through the next hour, you needed something. So you headed to the break room, suddenly craving some burnt workplace coffee. (What was it about this coffee maker that gave it such a distinct burnt flavor? You’d never know.) After placing the pod of coffee grounds in the slot and filling the water, you pressed the start button, turning around with a huff to see Wonwoo striding into the break room. A crushed, styrofoam coffee cup was clutched in his large hand before he tossed it in the barrel beside you. 

“How’s your transfer going?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest. Coffee had started to pour from the machine and into your cup.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s at 88% now. Hopefully should be done in the next hour.”

“Me too, if all goes well.” A sigh escaped your lips. “I still have a few more papers to fill out. Shouldn’t take me more than an hour, but I haven’t looked through them all yet.”

Wonwoo stepped forward, reaching in the direction of the styrofoam cups. “If you had let me help you –”

You tried sidestepping out of the way to give him some room, but his hand brushed against your arm anyway. Your chin tilted up as your eyes met his, back pressing against the counter. “It wouldn’t have helped,” you finished for him.

His arm paused mid-air, and he looked down at you. Eyes narrowing, he replied, “You’re one of the most stubborn people I’ve ever met. You have this desperate need to be in control of everything.”

“And why is that a bad thing?” Your tone took a hard edge. The last thing you wanted right now was to put effort into arguing, but you were tired and already on the edge of a breakdown. “I’ve relied on myself for as long as I can remember. I like being in control. I like being stubborn. If I didn’t do most things myself –”

“You ask me to fix something on your computer at least once a day.”

“That’s different.”

“You’re right,” he agreed, and you noticed then just how close he was. Your chests were practically touching. “Sometimes you do try to figure things out yourself and almost break your hard drive.”

His progress window was probably at 93% finished now. He should head back to his desk, but his feet stayed planted right where they were.

“Why does it matter?” You exhaled loud, your hands slapping against your hips. “Do you want an award or something? You have your way of doing things, and I have mine. I’m not perfect, but I … I like things the way they are.” Change is scary, you thought to yourself, but didn’t dare voice it out loud.

He was so close that he could smell your perfume. The scent of lavender mixed with orange blossoms and vanilla filled his nostrils, swirling around his brain. He could get addicted to this smell, to you. Maybe he already was. When his eyes roamed down to your legs and he saw his favorite pair of stockings on you, he damn near collapsed. In fact, he hadn’t even realized the soft groan had left his lips until your gaze found his, your pretty irises growing wide.

You were just so … captivating.

His hands were on both sides of you, pressing your back further into the counter. Your black coffee steaming and fully abandoned in the coffee machine. He was holding himself back, his knuckles going white with restraint. But he wasn’t like you. He could only keep himself in control for so long. And with you here right now, your perfume surrounding him, your stockings-clad thigh brushing against his leg, your a hand placed on his chest … he was a goner.

“Wonwoo,” you whispered, palm still resting on his shirt, “we …”

When your voice trailed off, Wonwoo’s instincts got the better of him. “Please, just …” One hand came up to smooth against your cheek, and he was almost out of breath as he pulled your face to his. “Let me do this.”

He gave you enough time to shove him back, to yell at him, to tell him you didn’t like him in that way. But your neck was craning towards his, and he took that as a sign to crash his lips onto yours. They were softer than he expected, and the taste … your gloss tasted like – well, like nothing. But if he pretended, he could’ve sworn there was a slight cherry aftertaste. His glasses bumped into your nose, but he’d been too overwhelmed to remember to take them off. Mouth moving against yours, his hips crammed you more against the counter, hard enough to leave a bruise on your spine. You didn’t care though. His shoulders were so wide that they shielded you, inviting your body into his, and your fingers fisted into his button-up. Tongues tangled, eager to taste more and more of each other. 

Wonwoo could kiss you forever. You didn’t want him to stop.

But all good things must end. Because when he instinctively placed his leg between yours, he knew this was going too far. Especially because you two were still at work. In the break room.

He instantly removed his leg, his lips breaking from yours. Your eyes connected, the room filled with only the sounds of heavy breathing, before you wiped a trail of spit from your chin.

Wonwoo’s head spun behind him. Thank god, there was no CCTV camera by the coffee maker.

Jeon Wonwoo [9:09 AM]: Good morning.

Jeon Wonwoo [9:09 AM]: I shouldn’t have done that last night.

Jeon Wonwoo [9:10 AM]: Still friends?

You [9:14 AM]: We probably shouldn’t be talking about this on Slack

You [9:15 AM]: Here’s my number: 855-777-0821

You [9:18 AM]: But yes friends :D

Wonwoo did not want to be just friends. But he was utterly terrified of what you would say if he voiced that. You had kissed him back, yes, but … hadn’t you agreed to be friends far too quickly? You had both hung out post-kiss – he liked to call this period of time A.T.K. (after the kiss) – and you didn’t seem to be ruminating on it like he was. Of course, he didn’t know what you were thinking, and you could be so hard to read sometimes when your layers weren’t stripped back enough. But …

Could it really have meant nothing to you?

If that were the case, he didn’t know how it was possible for you. He couldn’t stop thinking about the kiss even if he tried. When he saw you the next day – Friday, January 9, A.T.K. – the first thing he noticed was your lip gloss and all he wanted was to have it smeared over his mouth again. He noticed the way your hair fell over your shoulder, remembering how soft the strands felt when his fingers had slipped between them. He noticed that you were wearing those jeans that hugged your ass just right, and – god, now he was wishing that he had touched more than just your cheek. Wonwoo wanted to touch you everywhere. And vice versa. He didn’t care if your hands were constantly freezing or if they were dry during the winter. He wanted you to touch him however you pleased. He wanted to grab you and kiss you and hold those cold hands in his warm ones –

Oh, my god. He had a boner. At work. Just the mere memory of a kiss had him shifting himself in his pants underneath his desk, hoping no one noticed.

Eventually, he stood up, trying to keep a casual hand over the bulge in his pants as he fast walked to the bathroom. Nobody batted an eye, but you did steal a glance over at him once his back was turned. Your brow raised at the way he was practically sprinting for the elevator, not realizing that he was heading for the second floor restrooms. He must be excited for something. Probably a package, you thought before turning back to your computer.

Wonwoo felt like he could finally breathe once he was inside a stall. He rested his head against the cool tile wall, feeling the ache start to settle in his groin. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this way. What 28-year-old gets a boner from a kiss? You had him acting like a goddamn teenager.

What had you done to him? Just one kiss and he was completely under your spell.

(Or maybe he’d been this way all along.)

His fingers fumbled with the zipper on his jeans as he finally pulled himself out of his jeans, stroking from base to tip. Thankfully, no one was in the bathroom. He couldn’t believe his life had come to this. The last thing he ever wanted was to be that guy who jacked off in the bathroom. But you had to wear those goddamn jeans –

Wonwoo wasn’t good at hiding his feelings, but he was doing a pretty good job even as this was killing him inside. He wasn’t like you; he found it hard to restrain himself, to ignore everything that was bubbling up inside him. He could feel himself cracking. What would be the thing that finally broke him?

The answer was simple: alcohol.

Lee Seokmin [11:26 AM]: Dude lol. Why’d you run away from your desk like that

Lee Seokmin [11:26 AM]: I think you could win the Olympics with that kind of sprint!

Jeon Wonwoo [11:39 AM]: Don’t ask.

Lee Seokmin [11:40 AM]: Alrighty then ;)

Lee Seokmin [11:41 AM]: On another note … you free next Thursday? My buddy in the marketing department, Josh, finally has a night off from his kid so we were thinking of getting a group together for drinks after work. Interested?

The last thing you ever expected was to be invited to drinks with Seokmin and some of the managers in marketing, but Wonwoo said you should come. “In fact,” he had clarified, “you should come so I don’t have to deal with DK’s drunk antics all night.” Who were you to deprive him of your presence when he was that desperate? Plus, there was a nice girl in marketing that was also invited; maybe tonight was the night to befriend her.

But the marketing people knew how to party. You were only halfway through your second beer whereas the rest of your group was on their fourth. And three tequila shots deep. Wonwoo, seemingly, had an affinity for tequila, unlike yourself. He was able to throw them back like it was nothing; he didn’t even need a chaser. When Seokmin had requested they all get a fourth, he was met with a round of cheers, and even Wonwoo – quiet, introverted Wonwoo – threw his hands up with excitement. You placed a hand on his shoulder, whispering in his ear, “Are you sure about that?”

Wonwoo felt his whole body freeze when your hot breath reached his ear. A pale, pink flush appeared on his cheeks, but you chocked it up to how drunk he was. Eventually, he waved away your worry with his hand. “I’m fiiiiiiiiine. Hey, how about I get you another beer?”

“Are you even coherent enough to get me another –”

“HEY! Bartender! Can I get one more of these?!” He shouted, waving your empty glass in the air. “Oh, and more tequila!”

Seokmin slapped a hand on his friend’s shoulder, laughing along with him. As you made friends with the rest of the marketing department, you found yourself glancing at Wonwoo every so often. His cheeks were so rosy now, and his glasses kept slipping down his nose. To be fair though, everyone in this dive bar seemed to be in the same state of mind. Seokmin was singing along to the Sabrina Carpenter song blasting through the speakers. Josh was so drunk that he was crying about how much he loved his friends. They had even gotten Suzanne in finance to come out, and she was making friends with everyone for once. And Wonwoo … oh, god, Wonwoo’s head was now on the bar top and he was closing his eyes –

You abandoned your beer and walked over to your friend, shaking his shoulders. His eyes instantly opened, expecting to see Seokmin, but when his gaze met yours, he instantly felt all warm and fuzzy. “Okay,” you said, trying your best to hoist this 6 foot man off the barstool, “you’ve had enough. I’m taking you home.”

It was like pulling teeth to get him to tell you his address, but you guessed you shouldn’t be surprised when the man on your arm was blackout drunk. After flagging a taxi, you shoved him in the seat next to you and rubbed your hands together to get them warm. Wonwoo’s head was on your shoulder the second you sat down, his eyes fluttering closed as the taxi sped off into the night. You watched his fingers twitch on his thigh as he whispered sleepily, “I think my family would really like you.”

“Is that so?” You chuckled, squeezing his arm for reassurance, but little did you know just how much your touch effected him. “Why’s that?”

“Because you’re you,” he replied, and then yawned. “Only you and Mingyu would do this for me.”

Your brow furrowed. “Who’s Mingyu?”

The taxi pulled up to a brick apartment building then, and your cold fingers struggled to get cash out from your pocket while Wonwoo was practically laying on top of you. Finally, you did your best to haul him out of the seat, thanking the taxi driver before gathering an arm around Wonwoo’s shoulders. The building was definitely old with vines of ivy crawling up one side. There was a dead tree with snow covering it’s branches directly by the door, spilling snowflakes on your head as you struggled to input the code Wonwoo managed to remember. And then, you were pulling him up two flights of stairs, which took far longer than you estimated. You had basically ripped his keys from his hand once you reached his apartment and continued to drag him inside, laying him on the old couch that was conveniently right near the door.

Wonwoo grumbled as soon as his head hit the armrest, and he almost fell off the couch if it weren’t for you catching him and rolling him back onto the cushion. “I’m going to go get you a glass of water,” you said, quickly rushing off to his kitchen. “Please, for the love of god, don’t fall off the couch again.”

He whined for you to come back, but you pretended you didn’t hear it, because if you did, you’d have to reckon with the tingle that bloomed between your legs at the sound of his desperation.

The entrance of his kitchen was right in front of a small hallway that sectioned off two ways. There was a bedroom door on each side of the hall, and once you walked inside the kitchen, you found a tiny table from the 80s and the dishwasher currently running. You didn’t have time to contemplate that now, and instead pilfered through his cabinets until you found a glass and filled it with tap water. Rushing back to his side, Wonwoo was already laying halfway off the couch and you sighed.

You set the glass of water on his coffee table and lifted him back up. With a little bit of help from you, you both managed to shrug off his winter jacket and you tucked a throw blanket over him to prevent him from falling off again. A heavy exhale slipped past your lips as you knelt by his side, and you couldn’t help but reach out to pushed back his hair from his forehead. His eyes were closed, but you knew he wasn’t sleeping. You smiled to yourself.

Were coworkers supposed to show this much affection for each other?

“Wonwoo,” you said softly, and he cracked one eye open. “Do you want some water?”

He shut that eye again, grimacing at the thought of anything entering his body right now. “Ab…absolutely not.”

“It’ll make you feel better,” you persuaded, but he still shook his head. “Okay, so what do you want right now?”

His breath stilled for a moment. “Can I be honest?”

“That’s never stopped you before.”

“I …” No, he couldn’t be that honest. “I want you to … keep p–pushing back my hair. It’s … relaxing.”

You chuckled, “Okay, you got it.” Your fingers were at the crown of his head again, smoothing back the strands. You hadn’t noticed until now that he had a freckle on the left side of his forehead; maybe you’d just never been this close to notice. Well, actually, you had. There was this thing you two did called a kiss –

“If you’re going to fall asleep, I’m going to take off your glasses,” you informed him, slipping his glasses off and setting them by his glass of water. It was late, much later than you anticipated on staying out, and you both still had to go to work tomorrow. 

But then his hand was grabbing your wrist, his grip surprisingly firm for how intoxicated he was. “Can I b–be honest again?” He slurred, his eyes half open to meet yours.

You sighed, placing your hand on top of his, thumb brushing over his knuckles. “Just know whatever you say will be used to make fun of you tomorrow –”

“I can’t … I haven’t …” He took a breath to formulate the words in his head. “… Stopped thinking about our kiss.”

You blinked down at him, watching the way his eyes began to close again as he relaxed into the old couch cushions. “You can’t just say shit like –”

He scoffed dramatically. “I’m noooot,” he defended, his hand slipping off your wrist to curl underneath the blanket.

“Wonwoo …” Your voice trailed off, the words dying on your tongue.

“Who the hell are you?”

You immediately got to your feet at the sound of another person’s voice behind you. Eyes growing wide, you took in the sight of the man in front of you wearing nothing but a towel around his waist, droplets of water trailing down his chiseled abdomen as he shook a smaller towel through his hair. He might’ve been taller than Wonwoo, only by a little bit, and his skin was a golden tan that reminded you of summertime even in this harsh winter. Why was Wonwoo hiding handsome men in his apartment? The man looked at you, waiting for an answer, his brows raised.

“Oh,” you cleared your throat. “Um …”

“Leave her alone, Mingyu,” Wonwoo groaned from the couch, turning away from them to lay on his side.

So this was Mingyu, you concluded. This slightly god-like dude that looked like he walked straight out of a porno was the only other person who’d help Wonwoo when he was blackout drunk. Interesting.

Mingyu raised his hand awkwardly for you to shake. “His roommate,” he clarified.

“Oh,” you replied, grasping his hand for a moment and telling him your name. 

Mingyu instantly grinned, laying the small towel over his neck, holding both ends. “So you’re her.”

You blinked, not knowing how to respond to that. Perhaps there was no way to respond; the silence was comfortable enough. You decided to keep that in mind for later though.

“He’s … well, he got very drunk,” you informed Mingyu, gesturing to a now-sleeping Wonwoo with both thumbs. “I wanted to make sure he got home okay.”

Mingyu nodded, and then sighed. “I’ll take care of him. Don’t worry,” he promised, opening up the door for you. “Get home safe, okay?”

Wonwoo: Sorry about that the other night. I won’t get drunk like that again. It doesn’t happen very often

You: it’s okay! I’m used to handling drunk people

You: don’t get me wrong, I like to have my fun but it’s easier for me to take care of other people than like … be incoherent and anxious lol

Wonwoo: By the end of the night I was starting to feel that way. Not fun

You: DRINK WATER

You: your roommate is hot btw. does he always walk around without a shirt?

Wonwoo: Of course, he didn’t have a shirt on when you met him

Wonwoo: Everyone likes Mingyu

You: well, I like you [UNSENT]

The bi-annual sales meeting was started to boost morale and talk with other departments that you didn’t see as often. It was typically held at a hotel in the downtown city, with the company flying in all the sales reps from across the country. There were even a few from overseas. In reality though, this was usually the week where coworkers made mistakes. At least one person was let go after these sales meetings, and HR had their eyes peeled for an entire week.

You never made a mistake at one of these. And you didn’t expect to any time soon.

This was a week of rubbing elbows with slimy sales reps and making sure some old man hadn’t spiked your drink. For most, this was a week to slack off, but a woman working in corporate couldn’t relax in these settings. You’d been making corrections to your boss’ presentation for the entire company for what felt like forever. (Realistically, it’d been almost two weeks.) You probably went through the 50 slides at least twice as much, checking for spelling mistakes and making sure it was in the right place on your desktop. Not on some random external hard drive. Not in the trash. 

But it was finally the day you’d been dreading. Presentation day, and everyone at the company was eager to hear the Boss reveal if they hit their goal for the year, amongst other things. You checked the slides another time, and then made sure no one would trip over the HDMI cord connected to the projector. The Boss gave you a reassuring smile, and then it was go time.

Your boss could be a shit bag – what CEO wasn’t? – but he had a way of speaking that made everyone so excited for the future. He was probably the reason why morale was always so high, and everyone looked forward to his presentation at these meetings. Your finger hovered over the right arrow button as he went through his speech, pointing out company statistics and what he wanted them all to accomplish this year, before finally getting to the goal reach. And his answer was nothing short of what the audience wanted to hear. He congratulated all of them, and everyone clapped together at the good news.

When you looked out at the crowd that had gathered, you realized almost every seat in the ballroom was filled. Some were even standing near the door and – wait, there was Wonwoo, leaning against the wall in the back. IT didn’t need to be here for this presentation. In fact, they were encouraged to be doing other things, like manning a table near HR and offering on-the-spot tech help. A smile made it’s way to your lips, watching the way Wonwoo was listening intently.

Once the presentation was over and the room erupted in small talk, your boss came over and thanked you for helping out yet again. “Of course,” you replied, as if there was anything else to say. He gave you a comforting squeeze of the hand before walking off to talk to some of his favorite sales reps.

As you shut your laptop and began to place your things in your backpack, Wonwoo slipped into the chair beside yours. Just the sight of his grin set you at ease, but also made you nervous at the same time. Why were you suddenly so nervous? This was just Wonwoo.

Just Wonwoo. Just Wonwoo. Just … your Wonwoo.

“Congratulations,” he beamed, giving you a high five. “I know you’ve been working on this all week, but you did it!”

You always stressed so much about this presentation, but at the end of the day … “All I did was press a button,” you shrugged.

Wonwoo rolled his eyes. “Well, yeah, but you didn’t accidentally delete your file like every other time you’ve messaged me on Slack.” He chuckled, and you scoffed at his teasing. “I’d call that a win.”

The second to last night of sales meeting week was the longest night of the year. It was a tradition for everyone to go out to a bar the company rented out, drinking whatever alcohol they could get their hands on while celebrating a job well done. You only saw half these people twice a year, and half of the time they’d have a beer in their hands. 

You did your best to ignore every sales rep that tried to speak with you without slurring their words, but that was damn near impossible when some were already on their second cocktail. However, no matter how embarrassing it was, you did allow them to compliment you and your hard work. Who were you to turn down the validation? And when the time came, even your boss came over to compliment you again, and you realized there was truly nothing like being good at your job. 

Just for a moment, everything felt okay. It was like the loneliness dissipated, the sting of years without pleasure or having someone by your side … it all faded when you were rewarded for your hard work.

Maybe tonight was the night you had fun for once.

When you finally found Wonwoo later that night, he was surrounded by a few younger members of the IT team, debating what computer language everyone should be obligated to learn. You waved to him from where you stood by the bar top, and that was all it took to have him walking away from his team and towards you. He wrapped one arm around your shoulders, insisting to buy you drinks for the rest of the night, and you didn’t hesitate to agree. If there was anyone here you trusted enough to hand you a drink, it was Wonwoo.

Just Wonwoo.

The hour was reaching midnight now, and you weren’t sure how many martinis you had, but you were hiccuping a storm. That was a telltale sign that you were totally, thoroughly drunk. Wonwoo was only drinking beer and pacing himself, unlike that night at the dive bar, but he was enjoying the sight of you finally letting loose. You hung on his arm, staring up at him with your big eyes, glazing over from all the alcohol coursing through your system. He didn’t like how this effected him; he shouldn’t be attracted to the way your gaze looked while you were intoxicated. But he couldn’t help but wonder if your eyes held the same shine while your lips were wrapped around his –

No, this was too much. He should take you back to the hotel.

The two of you glanced around the bar, realizing it was mostly cleared out. You definitely needed to leave now.

He tugged on your arm, wrapping one of his around your waist to support you. “C’mon now,” he grunted, helping you walk out. “Let’s get you back.”

“I didn’t f–finish my drink thoooooough,” you argued, despite letting him lead you out of the bar. “And I can walk … on my own. Swear!”

“Listen, you took care of me once,” he said as you two walked into the brisk cold air. The hotel was, thankfully, only a block away. “Let me take care of you.”

Even with the alcohol pumping in your veins, just the sound of those words falling from his mouth made you grip him tighter. You felt like your bones were made of jelly, and it wasn’t just from the vodka. It was him, and the way he made you feel, and how secretly warm he was, and the way he took care of you as you took care of him, and – oh, god, you wanted to cry because you liked Jeon Wonwoo so much.

So, so much.

It was much easier to get you back to your hotel room than his apartment, seeing as this hotel had a working elevator. You slumped beside him, tripping over your feet every so often, as he hauled you down the hallway to your room. You gave him your keycard easily, and once the door was open, he squeezed your hand to silently let you know it was time to move again. He helped you into the room, shutting the door behind him, before laying you down on your bed with the clumsiness only he could have. 

You were laughing now, hiccuping from the alcohol, but laughing nonetheless. And he was laughing at your hiccups. Or maybe he just liked the way you grinned at him.

He assisted with taking off your boots and jacket, too embarrassed to remove anything else. And it definitely wasn’t appropriate to either. Tearing back the covers, he nestled you underneath them, and said, “You got everything, right? I’m a call away if you need me.” He grabbed one of the small trash cans in the room and placed it at your bedside. “If you need to vomit and can’t make it to the bathroom, just use the trash can here –”

You hand came out to wrap around his forearm. “Stay, Wonwoo.”

Your sleepy eyes were killing him, making his inhibitions melt and his cock throb at the same time. He sighed, sitting on the side of the mattress, and before he could stop himself, he was tucking hair behind your ear. “You know I can’t do that,” he said, his voice like a caress. “You know how it would look if someone saw me leave this room tomorrow morning. HR is on all our asses this week.”

“I know,” you slurred, and then pressed your flushed cheek into his palm. “I j–just thought you … were taking care of me thoooooooough …”

His resolve crumbled into a million pieces. This was complete, utter torture. You had to know how you effected him, but of course you didn’t, because you were stretching under the covers and yawning like you didn’t just make his heart stop. 

That’s how he ended up in your bed, shutting off the lights and settling underneath the comforter. Until you came closer and rested your head on his chest. Despite how fast his heart was beating, he felt so at peace, and you both fell asleep in the clothes you wore out tonight.

Only a few hours later, you woke with a clear head and the beginning of a hangover. Your head was pounding like crazy, and it took everything in you to slip out from the comfort of your bed and pad your feet over to the bathroom. The bright light was burning your eyes, but you needed it to find the Tylenol you left by the sink. Filling a cup with water, you took the medication and prayed it worked sooner rather than later.

You squinted at yourself in the mirror, realizing you were still in the outfit you wore yesterday. With a sigh, you picked up the big t-shirt you left on the floor yesterday morning and stripped yourself until you were in nothing but your underwear. You pulled the t-shirt on and slumped against the wall, pressing your forehead against the cold tile. Now this felt like heaven for your headache.

It took a couple of minutes to get yourself to move again, feet slapping against the floor as you walked out of the bathroom. You noticed Wonwoo was awake too, in the midst of slinking back under the covers, and you saw his jeans abandoned by his bedside.You crawled back to your cocoon of blankets, and he instantly wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you against his chest. And you … you didn’t move away. In fact, you pressed yourself closer, finally hearing how his heart raced. Wonwoo didn’t care if it was probably 4 AM and he probably had to leave in a few hours – before anyone else woke – because he was holding you and smelling you hair. You smelled … god, you smelled so good that it made him hard almost instantly.

You felt his hand splay against your spine, as if trying to hold himself back, and it was then that your eyes opened. The room was dark, but you knew when his gaze was burning into yours only seconds later. You slipped one hand out from the covers, cupping his cheek as your thumb brushed over his lower lip. Under his breath, he muttered a soft, “Shit,” because you both knew where this was going.

You agreed you wouldn’t do this again. You agreed to be friends.

But now you’re kissing again.

Your hand moved from his face to his neck, and his hands are gripping your cheeks to make sure your mouth stayed on his. His fingers were shaking. He kissed you desperately, as if he needed this just to be able to breathe again, and maybe he did. You were like putty in his hands, molding yourself to his body as your tongue tangled with his. Whatever ache you felt in your temples drifted between your legs, causing you to moan into his mouth. And fuck, just the sound of you made his cock swell, precum soaking through his boxers.

The room felt so hot all of a sudden, but your cold hands came in handy as they rested on his neck. His left hand slid down to your ass, finally giving it a firm squeeze after kicking himself for not doing it when he first kissed you. That made you moan again, and he decided he’d never stop touching you like this, just so he could hear these sounds fall from your lips.

He slid his knee between your legs on instinct, and you didn’t hesitate to start grinding against his thigh. The friction felt delicious and soothing. You both kissed each other slower, a little messier, focusing on touching each other everywhere you dreamed about all these months. Your fingers traced down the column of his neck, down the thin cotton of the shirt he was still wearing from yesterday, while bucking against his thigh. His lips left yours, dragging across your cheek so he could nibble on your earlobe, feeling it grow warm and red from all the attention. “You have no idea how long I’ve needed you,” he whispered, and you damn near almost came from that confession.

You weren’t used to this; you couldn’t remember the last time you experienced pleasure like this with someone, but you couldn’t imagine stopping. Not when he angled his thigh just right, the muscle in his leg rubbing against your clit, your panties completely soaked. You cupped him over his boxers, feeling his bulge throb in your palm, and you cooed, “Can I …”

He groaned. You didn’t need to say more; Wonwoo was smart enough to know what you were insinuating. He felt disoriented, drunk off of you and your touch, smell, everything. “Are you … are you sure you don’t want to …” His voice was giving out, but from the way your fingers were slipping under the waistband of his boxers, you knew you wanted just this, and he’d give you whatever you wanted. “Yes. Yes, of course. That’s fine,” he finished.

You chuckled softly. He smiled against your neck. Pulling his cock out and wrapping your palm around it, you began to stroke him slowly. “Oh, god,” he was sighing into the crook of your neck, his brain in such a state of disarray when you resumed grinding against his leg while also pumping him from base to tip. This couldn’t be real; he had to be dreaming, but he could feel your wet panties sticking to his thigh. He could feel himself shake as he clung to you and pressed sloppy, wet kisses to your throat. It was all too much, but not enough at the same time. 

“Wonwoo,” you whimpered, and he dragged his lips back to yours just to feel how your mouth moved when you said his name. You bucked your hips faster, your arousal coating his thigh, and warmth bloomed between your legs. When your hand on his cock reached his head again, you rubbed the pad of your thumb over his slit, making more precum bead onto your knuckles. “Wanna cum with you,” you begged, stroking him faster and in time with your hips.

“I know you do, I know,” he breathed against your lips. “Just a little faster … yes, just like that. Fuck.”

Only a moment later were you trembling, hips stuttering as pleasure took over your body. You came hard, squeezing his thigh between your legs, and your cry was swallowed by Wonwoo’s lips. If he didn’t kiss you, he knew he’d moan so loud it would wake the entire hotel. Because – oh, god, he was cumming now, and he was sighing against your mouth as he erupted in your hand, ropes of cum staining your t-shirt. He could’ve swore he saw white. He’d never felt a release like this before; not with anyone else. Not even when he jerked off. But maybe it was because this was your hand and you were cumming on his leg, and fuck –

You were still shaking in each other’s arms, minds blank and reeling, bodies coming down from the high. It took the kind of strength that moved mountains to slip from his arms and clean yourself up. But by the time you came back from the bathroom and cuddled up next to him, Wonwoo was already fast asleep.

Jeon Wonwoo [6:08 AM]: I had to leave early this morning before anyone woke. But if you want, I’d like to see you at breakfast this morning :)

You [7:31 AM]: Jeon Wonwoo, I’m begging you to just text this to me

You [7:31 AM]: Also, was your phone hacked? Since when do you use emojis?

There wasn’t much to do on the last day of sales meeting week. The only things on your plate were to make niceties with some of the new reps, and probably attend a few presentations by HR. When you had finally woken up this morning to just you in the bed, you almost considered skipping the HR presentations, feeling too guilty and like they might see right through you. It was irrational, but you were sure that this was the only way to feel after realizing that you hooked up with your coworker and friend. 

Not that you hadn’t wanted to. Not that you hadn’t been thinking about it since your kiss. No, it wasn’t like that at all.

So why were suddenly terrified to see him at breakfast?

You got ready as quick as you could – but of course, making sure you wore that V-neck sweater that showed off your cleavage just right – and threw your hair up before leaving your hotel room. The line for the breakfast buffet was packed, but you waited patiently and decided to sit near the bar once you plate was full. The rest of the dining room was filled with people and you weren’t awake enough to make shitty small talk. Sitting here at the bar top was peaceful and quiet –

“Is this … seat taken?”

Your eyes met his instantly, and you noticed the way Wonwoo was cringing at the line he threw at you. You decided to forget it, for his sake, and gestured for him to sit down. Fuck, you were so goddamn nervous, even though you had agreed to meet him in the first place. You wore this low-cut sweater for him. You both sat in silence for a bit, crunching awkwardly on the burnt bacon, and shifting in your seats. 

“Did you …” You were surprised that your mouth was moving on it’s own volition, spilling any words that came to your head. “… Do anything this morning since you were up early?”

Wonwoo choked a bit on a strawberry, but recovered quickly. “Uh … yeah, yeah, sure. Once I came down here, one of the IT interns found me in a panic because he couldn’t set up one of the rep’s new work phones. Created a whole scene over nothing.”

You snorted and sipped your coffee. “Is that intern still breathing?”

His eyes flickered to yours, a slow smile growing on his face. “Yes, actually.”

You fell into sync then, letting the awkward silence melt away as you joked about Wonwoo’s interns. He wasn’t meant to teach college students, god help them. But as your plates became empty and a server came around to take them, you two were left with only the mugs in your hands, strangely reminiscent of that apology coffee he bought for you so long ago.

Wonwoo sighed. “Hey, so about last night – or I guess, this morning …”

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you interjected, setting your coffee down. “I have a hangover, but I am thriving.”

He blinked. “Well, that’s good. But I was referring to –”

You almost couldn’t look at him when you said, “The fact that we’re definitely not just friends anymore?”

He chuckled. “Yeah, that part.”

“I …” You licked your lips as you gathered yourself. There was this … terrifying flutter in your chest. You’d never felt something like this before, but you weren’t keen on letting it go. Not yet. “I would like to see you again. Like that. Definitely not during work hours. If you catch my drift. This is awkward.”

Wonwoo had to turn his head so you wouldn’t see him trying to hold in his laughter, but it was clear as day. You sighed loud and hit his arm, making him look at you once again as he snickered to himself. “You know, you could just ask me if I want to hang out.”

You leveled a look at him and huffed. “Okay, Wonwoo, do you –”

“Yes,” he beamed. “Always, yes.”

You found yourself at Wonwoo’s side more often than not. What used to be work get togethers transitioned to meeting up at a bar, or checking a new restaurant on the weekends. Sometimes he’d ask you to come over so you could taste test a new recipe he found. (Unfortunately for both of you, Wonwoo wasn’t very good at cooking, but he was getting better. Somewhat.) Those recipe nights, however, always led to him lifting you up on his creaky kitchen counter and kissing you so hard that you almost forgot to breathe. Until Mingyu came into the kitchen, making a gagging sound, and you two instantly detached from each other.

Friday nights were known as Mingyu’s Movie Nights, and Wonwoo began inviting you to those. He had said that this would help knock a few movies off your Letterboxd Watchlist, but you knew that was just an excuse for wanting to see you. You probably saw him more than anyone now, but you couldn’t deny that you … wanted to see him too. Having him in your life made everything suddenly better. He was kind and smart and thoughtful. He made you laugh in ways you couldn’t explain, and obviously … he didn’t have to do much to make you want him. He’d simply have to look at you and you’d get on his lap. If Mingyu wasn’t there, of course.

Wonwoo seemed to blossomed with you. He was more excited to leave his apartment, more eager to become a better cook. He spoke up often, whether it be at work or out with you, rather than letting someone talk. He wanted to learn all the things that you liked, wanted to touch you exactly where you needed it, wanted to find new ways to leave you breathless. Because it was for you.

Even Mingyu noticed a difference in his friend. He’d known Wonwoo for so many years now, but he’d never made this much of a change for anyone. One night, when you and Mingyu were alone in the kitchen, he mentioned, “He’s different around you.” And then kept pouring wine in three glasses while Wonwoo picked a movie from the living room.

There were also times where Wonwoo was a booty call, of course, and neither of you had any problems with that. Some nights, Wonwoo would call you after Mingyu went to bed, begging you to come over, but ended up settling for phone sex. His attraction to you in stockings only went up, and it was difficult for him to contain his arousal at work when you strutted around just knowing how it affected him. There was days where all he wanted to do was pull you into a janitor closet and fuck the living daylights out of you. But it wasn’t like you’d let him anyway.

You had your fair share of desperate moments too. Especially tonight, as you were out drinking with your friends at a local spot you’d been coming to for years. The live band was loud and you’d had your fair share of shitty margaritas already. One of your friends was tugging on the arm of some rando she met on the dance floor, yelling over the music that she was leaving and she’d text you when she was home safe. That left you shit out of luck for a ride home, and suddenly very lonely. The last thing you wanted was to drink alone at a shitty bar on a Saturday night.

Wandering outside, your heeled boots crunched in the snow as you looked for the nearest Uber. The fastest one around would take over 20 minutes to get to you, and as you looked around the empty city streets … wait, didn’t Wonwoo live around here? Maybe all the tequila was just getting to you. But you called him anyway, and despite the time reaching 1 AM, he answered instantly. He heard the slight lisp in your voice, and once he got out of you exactly where you were, he realized you were right. It only took him about 10 minutes to get to where you were, parking on the side of the road. 

He sighed at the sight of you sitting on the curb, shivering and hugging your jacket around you. Various drunk people filtered in and out of the bar, but none of them checked on you – a freezing girl just sitting on the side of the road. “Why didn’t you wait inside for me?” He asked, his breath hot against your cheek when he pulled you up in his arms. Your dress rode up a little, and his hands were quick to yank it back down. “It’s the middle of winter.”

“I jusssst thought … the cold air would sssssober me up,” you slurred, letting him place you in his passenger seat before running back over to the driver’s side. His car was warm, making you bury yourself in your jacket, but his hand on your thigh was even warmer somehow. If your fingers weren’t so cold, you’d wrap your hand around his wrist, inching his palm up higher as he drove.

Once he was parked, he wasted no time getting you out and helping you up the stairs to his apartment. Mingyu was passed out on the couch, an old movie from the 80s playing on the TV, but you could hardly register it because your brain was spinning and Wonwoo was practically dragging you to his bedroom. He was grateful that all the lights were off so you couldn’t see how messy it was, but honestly, it was a miracle if you could see anything clearly right now.

He sat you down on the bed and you looked up at him with bleary eyes, which made you so fucking hard to resist. All the tequila you drank was pumping through your bloodstream, and you couldn’t help but fist your hands in his t-shirt and try to kiss him. He evaded your lips though – no matter how much he wanted to – and you whined, “Whyyyyyy won’t you kiss me?”

“Shhh …” He whispered, yanking off your boots. “Inside voice. Mingyu’s sleeping.”

You smacked your hands against his mattress. “He’s sleeping in the living room!”

Wonwoo got back to his feet, gesturing as he instructed, “Arms up.” You were too intoxicated to do anything but oblige, lifting your arms as he struggled to pull your dress over your head. Once it was off and thrown to the side with your boots, your hazy vision caught him looking through his drawers for clothes for you to wear. But didn’t he just take your clothes off? You could’ve sworn he did that because he wanted you too right now.

You protested when he tried putting you in one of his simple white tees, but your body felt too limp to fight. He slipped the shirt over your head before pulling back his comforter and wrapping you in it. With your eyes half open, you watched him come to the other side of the bed, yanking his pants down and crawling in bed beside you. He reached over you and set his glasses on the side table. You sighed dramatically. Now he was just torturing you. Wonwoo simply chuckled to himself, realizing what you were angry about.

His arms instantly wound around you, his lips pulled into a smile at your hairline. You looked up at him with a scowl and your voice slurred, “Whysss your eyes closed?”

Wonwoo snickered under his breath. “Because it’s late and I’m tired.” His hand on your lower back traced circles, attempting to coax you to sleep.

“I thought you wanted meeeee,” you complained. Your hand reached in between you two, smoothing your palm against his groin as he slowly started to harden under your touch. You heard his breath hitch slightly, so you kept going, a soft ache beginning between your own legs at just the thought of putting him in your mouth. 

“Sweetheart, I always want you.” He then grabbed your wrist, moving your hand away from him, and then lacing your fingers together. Pressing a kiss to the side of your forehead, he sighed sleepily, “But you’re much sexier when you’re sober.”

You started to realize why you didn’t usually do this, why it had been so long since you let someone see every part of you. What you looked like completely stripped down – both inside and out – completely vulnerable for your person. How your face contorted during pleasure, and how it relaxed when you were taken care of.

Catching feelings like this meant giving up control.

You didn’t work on the weekends unless you had to, and when the Boss sent you a high priority email on Saturday morning, you didn’t hesitate. He had transferred over a bunch of sensitive files that were needed for a board presentation first thing Monday morning. But of course, something just had to go wrong: the files were corrupted and you had no way of figuring out what to do. And it wasn’t like your boss was on call like you were on a Saturday.

This was how you ended up at Wonwoo’s apartment.

You had called him in a panic, explaining what had went wrong, but he didn’t seem too fazed. He was used to your tech emergencies by now. But by the time you got to his apartment, out of breath after running from the train station, he had realized just how serious you were taking this. You both sat down on his couch and you let him work his magic. His fingers moved across the keys as if he were a musician, and you couldn’t stop biting your nail nervously.

Mingyu came back to the apartment after grocery shopping, waving at you before putting all the food away. Seeing as you were here, maybe they could all go out and have fun tonight. He went into the living room, ready to mention a band that was playing at a local venue later, but upon seeing the stressed look on both your faces, he exhaled. “It’s a Saturday,” he stated matter-of-factly. “Why do you two look like that?”

“Corrupted documents,” Wonwoo answered quickly, not even looking up from the monitor. 

“I don’t even want to know more,” he said, grabbing his leather jacket from the coat rack and tugging his arms through the sleeves. “Just your faces are making me anxious. I’m heading out. Don’t wait up.”

You gave Mingyu a wave as he left, but Wonwoo was too focused to even say goodbye. It took about another hour and one cup of coffee, but Wonwoo eventually figured out how to uncorrupt the files. You let out a sigh of relief as he handed the laptop back to you and you were able to open each of them without issue. Thank god, you had managed to figure this out before Monday morning. And … having Wonwoo wasn’t too bad either.

“Thank you,” you beamed, not being able to resist pinching his cheek. “My hero.”

Silence engulfed the room as you both noticed how the sky was already getting dark. You cleared your throat, slipping your laptop back into your bag and muttering, “Thanks again. I know I kind of barged in and wasted your Saturday afternoon –”

Like the saint he was, Wonwoo simply smiled at you. “No time with you is a waste.”

Whatever words you were about to say clogged in your throat. You swallowed hard, attempting to hide your fluster, but you ended up choking out, “I … should go.”

“You don’t have to.” He stood from the couch, walking over to you and running his hands down your arms. His brow lifted. “Do you want to?”

You let the strap of your bag fall to the floor as your hands cupped his neck. “No, not particularly.”

Wonwoo chuckled, leaning in and letting his lips just lightly graze yours. “We have the place to ourselves,” he hummed, slowly dragging you backwards with him. “Mingyu’s gone … probably won’t be back until midnight.”

You bit your lip to suppress a giggle, letting him lead you to his room, as limp as a rag doll. Once he shut his bedroom door behind you, he flicked the light on. You pressed your back against the door and your eyes roamed around the space. This was the first time you saw his bedroom with the light on; every other time had been pitch black. You liked that his walls weren’t bare – they were filled with posters of his favorite musicians or photographs. On his desk was a large monitor and a gaming set up, but also a camera with stacks of film next to it. His furniture was old – probably from the 90s, probably passed down from his family – but the scratches within the wood told a story. And unlike most men, his sheets were gray.

Wonwoo realized you were scanning his room, and he became acutely aware of the clothes scattered amongst his floor. He muttered something to himself, beginning to pick up the clothes piles and chuck them into his hamper. “Sorry,” he murmured. “I wish I inherited the organized gene like Mingyu.”

You tilted your head, striding over and pulling him up, making him halt his actions. Your hands went to his face as you brought him closer. With a smile, you whispered, “I don’t want to talk about Mingyu,” before pressing your lips to his.

The kiss became deep far too quickly, or maybe time was passing faster than usual. Your lips crashed so hard against his that they’d bruise. He took off his glasses, setting them on his drawer, before his fingers hooked into the belt loops of your jeans. You stepped forward, making him step back, then another, and another – until you had him falling back on his bed. You straddled him, arching your back so you could lick into his mouth just how he liked. Hands sliding up his shirt, you felt his abdomen flex underneath you. His fingers in your belt loops jerked you closer, pressing your hips to his, and it wasn’t long before he was moaning into the kiss.

You smiled against his mouth, dragging your lips down his neck, and then even further, as you slinked down his body. Your eyes were trained on his, and he was trying his best not to look like a complete idiot in front of you. But it was difficult when you were looking at him with those eyes and – oh, now you were pulling down the waistband of his sweatpants, practically salivating when you noticed how hard he was already.

But … this was what you guys always did. Not that he had an issue with you giving him blow jobs, but none of this felt particularly intimate. You never really let him worship you; you took control of the entire situation. As if you were bringing your professional stubbornness to the bedroom.

“Wait,” he choked out as you palmed his growing bulge. “Can we … can we try something different?”

Your brows furrowed and you continued pressing sloppy kisses above his groin. “Why would we do that?”

Wonwoo let out a frustrated sound, and before you could prepare yourself, he was yanking his pants back up and pinning you underneath him. You blinked up at him in surprise, and he was gripping your wrists above your head now, his bodyweight pressing you into the mattress. He almost looked shocked that he had the strength to push you back, but his blown-out pupils gave away his true desire.

“What was that for?” You asked incredulously. Nerves clouded your thoughts, making you stutter. “I thought … I thought you liked …”

“No, trust me, I do,” he assured you, and then tipped his head as he gazed down at you. “I just … why won’t you let me take care of you?”

You scoffed then, trying to cover up how petrifying this conversation was becoming. Were you that transparent now, or did he simply know you far too well for your own good?

“I have no idea what you’re –”

Wonwoo gave you one of his infamous leveled looks, and you sighed. “You’re in constant need of seeking control when it’s always at your fingertips. It’s okay to let it go; it won’t slip away.” He let go of your wrists then, but kept his body hovering over yours, holding himself up by his elbows resting near your head. “Please, just … surrender it for once. Let me take the lead.”

You glanced down at your hands on your chest, twiddling your thumbs. Eventually, you murmured, “It’s hard. I’ve never done that before.”

“Can we try? I like …” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, then let his head fall as he chuckled to himself. “This is so awkward. I just – I like prioritizing your pleasure. It feels much better for me and I think it will for you too. And if you don’t like it –”

“I’m not good with change,” you blurted.

“I know,” he whispered, his voice taking on that husky tone that made warmth pool in your stomach. His eyes flickered to your lips now, noticing how swollen they still were. “I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do. It was just a suggestion, and I probably ruined the mood.”

You shook your head immediately, allowing your fingers to tenderly sweep over his shirt. “No, I …” A voice in the back of your head told you this was a good thing, and you did want this, but the fear of change was overwhelming. You wanted to step out of your comfort zone, desperately, for once. You were allowed to do this; you were allowed to be happy. 

Your gaze met his again. “I want to try.”

His eyes softened with affection, but then he asked, “You’re not just agreeing for my sake, right?”

“Now when have I ever done that?” You laughed, making him smile along with you. 

But as soon as his mouth met yours, that awkward, giggling persona seemed to melt away. Jeon Wonwoo morphed into an entirely different person, someone that possessed your jaw in his large hand, pulling at your bottom lip before kissing you harder. It was enough to leave you gasping for air once he pulled away, spit connecting you two, and he continued to suck and nip his way down your throat. He made sure to leave marks in places that could be covered up for work, but he’d know exactly where they were. God, would he even be able to control himself at his desk, knowing where his bites were hiding under your clothes? 

Tugging your sweater over your head, he practically whined at the sight of your breasts, constricted in the bra that you told him was too old once, but you kept wearing it anyway because he said it was cute. He lifted you for a moment, expertly removing it with one hand, before licking the valley between your breasts. You arched into him, sighing into your arm when he swirled his tongue around your taut nipple. He glanced up and realized you were hiding your face, so he pushed your hand off. “I want you to look at me while I do this,” he cooed, but it sounded more like a demand.

Despite the embarrassment, you did as he asked, feeling completely bewitched as you watched him cup the swell of your breast, tugging on your nipple. This felt like a goddamn Pornhub video. You two have had sex before, yes, but not like this. Never like this. Wonwoo had always let you do what you were comfortable with, keeping his other side at bay while you rode him hard on the couch. But this … this felt like something else entirely. The way he was lavishing both your nipples, coating them with his spit, demanding you to watch … Expletives filtered softly from your mouth, wetness gathering between your thighs. It suddenly felt too hot and your jeans were still on.

Wonwoo was taking his time with you though, and it was very clear to you that this wouldn’t just be one of those nights where you had sex for 10 minutes before ordering pizza. When he lifted his mouth from your left nipple, he asked calmly, “Do you like this or do you want more?”

You sneered, “Well, of course, I like –”

His hand came up instantly to pinch your other nipple, and you couldn’t stop the whimper that came out of your mouth. “No teasing,” he said, lowering his head to flick that nipple with his tongue. “Just answer me.”

“More,” you choked out, your hips arching off the bed, seeking friction. “Please, more.”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss between your breasts once again, before lowering himself down your body. His eyes never left yours as he dragged his lips down your stomach. Eventually, he had to stand from the bed so he could finally unzip your pants, tugging when they got stuck around your ankles. When the cold air hit between your legs, you realized how soaked you were already. Wonwoo smirked to himself, slowly rolling your panties down your legs.

“Don’t let it get to your head,” you joked, kicking your panties off into a pile by his bed. 

He lifted your ankle, nipping playfully, and replied, “Told you that you’d like me taking the lead.”

You rolled your eyes as he settled between your thighs, bending your knees back so your feet rested beside his head. You bit your lip as he placed sloppy kisses on your inner thigh, biting hard enough to make a bruise. Wonwoo fought hard to maintain a sense of composure, but god, the sight of your pretty pussy oozing slick made him wonder if he could cum untouched. You had let him finger you before, but had never been in the mood for this. And this was something Wonwoo had been fantasizing about since the day he noticed that tear in your stockings. He could jump for joy if that didn’t make him look like an absolute fucking loser.

He pushed your folds apart with two fingers, running a hand down his face as he attempted to school his expression. It was just so fucking hard to act cool when you were this aroused. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip. You reached out and brushed his hair back from his forehead, deciding to quip, “Wonwoo, can you even find the clit without your glasses on –”

Without warning, he spit on your pussy and buried his face between your thighs. The words died on your tongue immediately, and you let out the loudest whine he’d ever heard in his life. He smiled, but that didn’t deter him from circling his tongue around your clit. He wound one of his arms around your thigh, holding you in place as he pressed his face further.

Wrapping his lips around your clit, he sucked and drew out the prettiest sounds from you, using his free hand to slip two fingers inside you. You tasted exactly like he dreamed about, sweet and tangy and so unmistakably you. He looked up at you from between your legs, curling his fingers in the spot that made tears prick at your eyes, and when your gaze found his, it was like something in him snapped. “Fuck,” he muttered, his voice muffled, feasting at you like he’d been starved for days. 

Your fingers were in his hair now, pressing his head more into you, which only made this more enjoyable for him. He nearly came in his pants when your hips began to buck against his face, but this was about you. And him experiencing you cumming on his face. But mostly you. His fingers pumped faster inside you and his tongue was now flicking your clit, allowing more of your arousal to invade his mouth. He’d never get tired of this taste; he was obsessed. Now that he finally got a taste of you … he never wanted to not be doing this. Never wanted his face too far from the apex of your legs. Not when you had the sweetest taste that could move heaven and earth between these thighs.

And when you finally came on his tongue, he noticed that your legs shook like an earthquake. Your essence flooded his mouth, and he moaned – god, did he moan – lapping at you, never missing a drop of what you gave him. His fingers kept curling inside of you, making your orgasm feel like forever. When he finally removed them with a wet pop, he didn’t miss the opportunity to have more of you, wrapping his mouth around those two fingers and licking off the last of your release. You watched him, completely mesmerized by the way he savored you, even darting his tongue out to capture the whatever seeped out of you. Your hips jolted, suddenly so sensitive, and he grinned up at you.

You hardly caught your breath before he crawling up your body, kissing you hard and letting you taste yourself on his tongue. Your hands fisted in his t-shirt, and when you ripped your lips away from his, you arched a brow. “You are still fully clothed,” you reminded, and then swiped at the spit lining his bottom lip.

Wonwoo simply smiled, ghosting his lips over yours before trailing them to your ear. “I’m getting to that part. Patience,” he whispered, nibbling on your earlobe. “You must really want me inside you.”

“I want to not be the only one naked.”

“Say it,” he prodded in a weirdly casual tone.

“What?”

“Say you want me inside you.”

“This is ridiculous –”

He lifted his head from your jawline. “I can easily leave this room and order a pizza,” he teased, and you blinked at him. He was actually being serious. He would completely ignore what looked like a throbbing erection in his pants, just to make a point. You knew he wasn’t trying to be mean; he wanted to get you out of your comfort zone. This was so stupid, because you did want him inside you. Embarrassingly so. He had just given you one of the best orgasms of your life, but you still had this … aching need to be filled. Your cheeks heated just at the thought of it.

“I …” Your eyes closed for a moment, trying not to make your whole face turn bright red. With a sigh, your eyes connected again, and you answered, “I want you inside me, Wonwoo.”

He rewarded you with a kiss, pulling away before it could get too heated again, and stood from the bed. “Well, when you ask nicely …” He smiled, that dominating demeanor slipping for a moment as he pulled his shirt off. You’d never get tired of the way Wonwoo looked without a shirt. He didn’t let anyone see it very often – he wasn’t like his roommate – but the moments he did, you felt eternally grateful. His torso was toned, with defined abs and pecks that made your mind boggle. You liked that his arms were long and muscled; his hands large and slightly calloused. 

You liked everything about him.

When he finally went to kick off his sweatpants, he noticed a large precum stain on the gray fabric from just eating you out. Which was probably the biggest jab to his calm and collected attitude right now, but he didn’t let it slip. He simply threw the sweatpants to the side, coming up close to the bed again, where your legs were now hanging off the edge. You gazed up at him as if he held the world in his palms, watching the way he reached into his boxers and pulled out his cock. Your eyes widened at the sight, never used to the size. He was slightly thicker than average, but long. Longer than you ever expected. With a pretty pink head leaking sticky precum.

It was killing you how long he was taking. Your legs shifted, ready to make a move to yank him underneath you, but he was faster than you. He pinned your wrists about your head with one hand this time, using his other to keep a firm grip on his cock. “You want to be in control that badly, huh?” He asked, tilting his head.

His hand was moving up and down his shaft now, letting precum dribble on your stomach. Your eyes flickered from his cock back to his eyes. “I just … I need you, Wonwoo,” you begged, your voice taking on a new tone. And somehow … wanting him so bad like this was ten times more arousing than riding him on the couch. “Please, please, Wonwoo. Please, fuck me.”

Your pleas had him falling apart, and he sighed, letting go of your wrists to discard his boxers too. His cock flopped against his stomach, hard and aching and – fuck, had he always been veiny? He got on top of you again, cooing against your lips, “I know, baby, I know.” His rubbed the underside of his length against your wet folds, moaning at the slightest bit of friction. “I’ll fuck you real good. I promise.”

Pressing the head of his cock at your entrance, his breath hitched at just the feeling of your arousal coating his shaft. You both had never taken your time with sex. But he was doing that tonight now that he was in control, letting himself slowly push inside you, feel you completely stretch open for him. You mewled, slinking your arms around his neck and carding your fingers at the nape. And when he finally buried himself to the hilt, his lips fell open and he groaned. You felt so good he could cum right now, but he needed to get a grip. The last thing he needed was to cum too fast.

Not that you would like him any less if he did.

“Wonwoo,” you cried, your hips arching up to meet his. “Please.”

Your voice snapped him out of whatever trance-like state he was in. He settled more on top of you, resting his elbows on both sides of your head, and pulled all the way out so only the tip remained. You whined at the emptiness, which soon changed to a gasp when he bullied his cock back in. Your fingers tugged at his hair; your legs crossed around his waist, drawing him deeper inside. “Fuck,” he muttered, still feeling how tight you were, how you molded yourself for him. “So fucking … god, so wet.”

His restraint could only last so long. He’d gotten his fill of feeling you adjust around him. He couldn’t take this anymore, or he was going to cum before you both had even started. With a deep breath, he set a brutal pace inside of you, his hips snapping forward. Tears rolled down your cheeks; how could something feel so good that you cried? Wonwoo seemed to be thinking the same thing, because he was burying his face in the crook of your neck and groaning, “God, so good … you feel so good … how can anyone feel this good?”

The only word you could choke out was, “Ditto,” which you’d regret for hours after this. But now was not the time.

He was fucking into you so hard that you were already sore, but you were holding onto him for dear life, clinging to him as that warmth burned in your gut. The way his cock curved and grazed your g-spot perfectly, making you tremble and whimper his name like a prayer. He placed a hand on your stomach, feeling how deep his cock nestled inside you, and you noticed him shiver in your arms. He was trying desperately to fight off his release. That coil in your gut began to tighten, and from the way Wonwoo was breathing, you knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. He wanted you to cum first though – like always – wanted to feel you clamp around him, squeeze him so tight that he saw white. 

So he did what he did best: reached in between your bodies, finding your swollen, sensitive clit so easily, and rubbed slow circles. He lifted his head from your neck, wanting to see that familiar look in your eyes when you saw stars. “Are you gonna cum for me?” His voice was so deep that it reverberated against your chest.

And finally, as he pressed his thumb down hard and pushed into you just right, you felt your orgasm crest. “Fuck, Wonwoo,” you sobbed, body shaking as you came undone. 

But Wonwoo wasn’t stopping. He kept fucking into you, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. And when your walls squeezed him so tight, he buried himself completely and came hard, a generous amount of fucks leaving his lips. His cheek pressed against yours; his groans muffled by the comforter. You held him close as he filled you to the brink with his release, and it almost felt like hours before he realized he finished. 

You exhaled together, allowing your heart rates to settle. He turned his head slightly, pressing a kiss to your cheek, and then to your nose, and now he was kissing all over your face. Your cheeks instantly tinged pink, but you let him do as he pleased. He didn’t even make a move off you, letting his cock soften inside your warmth. When your eyes opened, he was staring down at you like you were the sun. You searched his eyes, “What?”

His dark gaze flickered to your lips for a moment, and then he asked, “Did you really say, ‘Ditto,’ during sex?”

You and Wonwoo had gotten into a routine. Of course, you saw him 5 days out of the week at work, but you wanted more of him. You figured out Mingyu’s schedule, coming over most nights when he wasn’t home – besides Mingyu’s Movie Nights. You would let Wonwoo cook for you, and he promised he was getting better, before he led you to his room with kisses to your neck and a firm grip on your hand. 

He always went with whatever you were comfortable with, but you found yourself letting him take the lead more often than not. You liked letting him prioritize you; you liked being selfish with him. Giving up control felt … much better than anticipated. Everything about this felt too good to be true. But you couldn’t help yourself, and you didn’t want to spoil it by asking him the dreaded, “What are we?” For now, you’d exist in your safe little bubble, where he would smile at you at work and then fuck your brains out after hours. It felt perfect, simple.

You approached sex through a different lens now. Instead of simply riding him on that godforsaken old couch, you let him go at his own pace: placing you on his lap, having his way with you and making you cum at least 3 times before he sunk you down on his cock, bouncing you up and down as you clung to him, practically letting him use you as a flesh light. Even when he let you sit on his face, it was on his terms: his hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave a mark, trying to suffocate himself with your pussy, not allowing you to cum until he said so, no matter how much you needed to. But it felt too good to stop. You didn’t want this to stop. You liked the lack of control, liked the way he took care of you. The way he bent your knees back as he slid into you, keeping eye contact, so you’d feel him that much deeper … the way he could feast on you for hours, never getting enough of your taste … there was something about it that made you feel more than beautiful. 

Especially when he looked at you as if you were his world.

Especially when he fucked into you and you realized you might be in love with him.

You tended to get lost in thought while laying in bed on an early morning. The birds chirped outside, your phone chimed along with each new notification. Curling underneath your comforter, you held your pounding head, reminiscing on last Sunday. You had gone over Wonwoo’s apartment and he had surprised you with a spaghetti dinner. Mingyu promised that it was “more edible than usual” before he left you two alone in the apartment.

You had noticed the shine in Wonwoo’s eyes, how excited he was to do this for you. He had never bothered to learn anything for anyone, but all he wanted to do was please you. To make you happy. And you could see that in the way he gazed at you, making your stomach do flip flops. Letting him have all this control over you, letting him see past the fortress you’d kept up for who knows how long … it was scary and exhilarating all at the same time.

He taught you how to play his favorite video game after dinner, placing you in between his legs on the couch and letting you lean back against his broad chest. His arms cocooned around you, nestling your body in his embrace. Sometimes he would nibble on your ear as you fought to maintain hand-eye coordination with the controller. Eventually, you had given up and asked to watch him, but that led to his hand dropping the controller as the enemy killed him off. And then his fingers were slowly slipping down the waistband of your leggings, rubbing your slit over your panties. You had arched into him, your ass pressing against his hardening erection as he pulled your panties to the side, already finding you wet and ready for his touch. He chuckled in your ear, “How long have you been thinking about this?” His index finger rubbed tight circles on your clit, and all that you could formulate for a response was a moan as he –

You cut yourself off from the memory before it could end you.

Your stomach churned. Despite your better judgement, you had completely fallen head-over-heels for senior IT specialist, Jeon Wonwoo, and that was terrifying. He had seen your personality unfold, seen the most vulnerable parts of you. But nothing was more scary than admitting to yourself how much you liked him, maybe even loved. You were frantic to the point of exhaustion, so stressed that you felt sick. Soon you were shivering, your head pounding as a fever came on, and you stayed home from work for a few days. Your phone notifications be damned – you stayed in your bedroom with the blinds closed, sleeping the days away.

Every so often, you would hear your phone chime. Your phone screen would light up with another text message. But … you couldn’t bring yourself to answer him. This behavior was illogical and stupid; you just simply couldn’t help yourself. You were an avoidant. The only thing you knew how to do was slowly push him away before he saw all the layers underneath your carefully crafted facade.

What if he finally saw how anxious you were all the time?

What if he knew how you secretly craved to be loved your entire life, but you looked for it elsewhere, in places like workplace praise or crowded bars where you couldn’t see another person’s face?

What if he knew you weren’t as organized up in your head as you were at your desk?

Or worse … what if he didn’t like you back?

TUESDAY, APRIL 22

Wonwoo: What’s going on?

Wonwoo: I managed to find out that you’re sick. I can make you soup, if you want? I know my cooking is terrible. But what if this time it’s good and it cures you?

Wonwoo: If I threaten to message you on Slack, will that make you reply?

Wonwoo: I promise I won’t. Unless … lol

Wonwoo: You’re not dead, right?

Wonwoo: Please, answer me.

FRIDAY, APRIL 25

UNKNOWN: hey, it’s Mingyu. I found your number in Wonwoo’s phone. he’s really messed up right now and worrying about you.

UNKNOWN: idk what’s going on between you two, but I don’t like seeing him like this.

UNKNOWN: just … call him. or text him. or something.

Jeon Wonwoo [10:13 AM]: Did your computer die and you need a new charger?

Jeon Wonwoo [3:21 PM]: I miss you.

When you finally returned to work, it’s on a day that your cubicle mate had decided to work from home. You couldn’t decide if that was a blessing or curse until the next day, when you wished that he decided to work from home forever. It was on a Tuesday morning that you finally faced him again, locking eyes with him from across the boardroom table in an all-hands meeting. You weren’t sure what to say, weren’t sure what you could say, but … he didn’t speak to you any way. In fact, even when you both got back to your desks, he kept quiet, throwing on his headphones and focusing on whatever task was at hand. His attitude change wasn’t exactly surprising, but you couldn’t bring yourself to speak to him either.

All your other coworkers looked bewildered. The silence between you two made just about everyone feel awkward. They all saw how close you and Wonwoo had become, and now everything just felt … flat. Silent. Empty. It was like you two were strangers. Maybe you had never really known each other in the first place, if you could both discard each other so easily. 

But that just seemed too good to be true. You thought about him everyday, despite yourself, and he had to think of you too. You caught his eyes on you every once in a while, and you couldn’t help but yearn for him in silence. It was probably time for you to take charge again and make the first move, but you found yourself hesitating. Again. You were overwhelmed with thoughts of rejection. 

This was why you never gave up control with someone before. It left you suddenly so, so doubtful.

You [1:34 PM]: I can’t get into my Outlook. I think I’ve locked myself out 

Jeon Wonwoo is now offline.

You [1:36 PM]: I miss you too

It was a busy Sunday, the first notes of Spring evident in the air. You needed to go to the post office today, the supermarket, probably check in on your parents … but that was all discarded when you made the sudden decision to take a taxi to Wonwoo’s apartment. Your hands were shaking more than his when he first touched you. Your leg was bouncing with anxiety, and when the taxi finally pulled up to his building, you considered never getting out. 

But you couldn’t continue being a coward. Besides, this driver had places to be, with the way he was arguing for you to pay in cash.

You were lucky enough to slide in through the building’s entrance while someone was walking out. The less you had to embarrass yourself by calling Mingyu to let you in, the better. The walk up those two flights of stairs was long and tiring, and it wasn’t because you always hated them. You physically couldn’t make yourself go faster, too frightened of what he was going to say when he saw you. Maybe he wouldn’t say anything; maybe he’d slam the door in your face. And you couldn’t blame him, because now you were at his door and – oh, god, you wanted to hurl.

The door was opening before you could even catch your breath. When you caught that first glimpse of Mingyu, you realized how much of a mistake this was. You could always turn back, run down the stairs before anyone could say a word.

But as soon as you both locked eyes, Mingyu raised his brow, but not in a mocking sense. It was as if … he expected you to be here. He sighed, leaning against the door, and without looking back, he called out, “Wonwoo! You got a visitor.”

Your eyes went wide, and then Mingyu was pushing past you, leaving the door open and muttering, “Good luck.” He was rushing down the stairs two at a time before you could even say a word back. But then you were seeing him, and you wondered if it had always been this hard to breathe around him.

Your fingers played absentmindedly as you both stared at each other. His glasses were slipping down his nose, but he made no move to fix them. His own hand was too busy dropping the controller that had been in his grip, now clattering to the floor. His hair was messed up and he was wearing his favorite comfy sweatsuit, and you … you were put together, as always. Your hair unwashed, but pulled up in a ponytail, and wearing that cardigan he liked so much on you. If he wasn’t so hurt, just the sight of you would have him on his knees right now, begging to have you.

He had to turn around and walk away. If he didn’t right now, he’d just –

“Wait,” you said, walking in and closing the door when he spun away. “Please, don’t. I –”

“What could you possibly say?” He snapped, facing you once again. You had never heard his voice at this octave before, never seen so much distress on his face. “I thought we knew each other well enough that you wouldn’t cut me off out of nowhere. As if I’m just some guy you met at a bar last weekend.”

Your mouth opened, and then closed. 

“Do you … do you even understand how worried I was about you?” He ran a hand through his hair, voice cracking for the first time in forever. You took a step closer to him. “You weren’t answering me and I just … my head went to the worst. I thought Mingyu was gonna kill me the next time I mentioned your name. And then, to see you at work and realizing that you were actually just ghosting me was a fucking punch to the gut. I didn’t get it. I still don’t get it. But I’m so pissed at you for hurting my feelings that I’m not even sure if I wanna know.”

“Wonwoo –” You started.

“Please, don’t say my name like that,” he sighed and pinched his nose. “I realize that you came all this way to finally break the news to me, but I’m good. It’s very obvious to me now that you don’t like me as much as I like you, and to save us the pity party, let me get you home –” He reached for his wallet to grab some cash for your next taxi.

But you interrupted before he could finish.

“I love you.”

He paused, looking up and making sure he heard you right. “What?”

“I’m in love with you,” you said it again, and it felt so freeing to have this weight lifted off your shoulders. You moved closer, now standing a foot away, but refusing to touch him for your own good. “And I’m not just telling you that as an excuse. Ignoring you was cruel and I can never forgive myself for hurting you. I just … when I realized how deep my feelings for you were …” Your throat closed up, as if your body was acting on instinct, preventing you from being vulnerable with him.

Wonwoo closed the distance. “Hey,” he whispered, tucking a hair behind your ear. “I’m right here with you.”

His voice was so reassuring – as always – opening you up like a blooming flower. And suddenly, your mouth didn’t feel so dry anymore and your nails stopped making crescent-shaped indents in your palm.

“I got scared,” you confessed, your gaze locked on his. “And I ran away, because that was the easiest thing to do. I thought ignoring you would be best for both of us, and I stubbornly didn’t want to hear your opinion on any of this. What I did was wrong and I … I hate myself when I do stuff like this to people I care about.”

Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes, but he wiped them with his thumb before they could fall. You sniffled, noticing the hurt in his eyes had faded, replaced only by adoration. Your lips pursed as you searched his gaze.

“I’ve just … never allowed anyone to open me up like this. I’ve never given my feelings to someone and let them care for me.” You blinked, your eyes rimmed red. “I’ve hardly been able to comprehend my own feelings because I’ve been scared shitless of them in the first place. But I can’t … I can’t justify pushing you away anymore. Because I love you. I don’t like being alone anymore and all I ever want to do is see you. Sometimes I’m afraid if I stop holding you, you’ll disappear. You do so much for me; you literally fix something on my computer everyday. I think if I let you go right now, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life, and I –”

Wonwoo cut you off by pressing his lips to yours. You couldn’t remember the last time he kissed you like this: so gently with his palm cupping your jaw. You felt yourself relax when he slipped an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him. His tongue licked into your mouth, sighing with relief when the familiar taste of you entered his orbit again. The taste of coffee and peppermint gum and the peanut butter and jelly you definitely had for lunch today. It was everything he loved about you, and he smiled into the kiss.

When he finally pulled away, he said, “Sorry, I interrupted your monologue.”

“It’s okay. Someone needed to before I got into the Hamlet soliloquy I prepared.”

He chuckled, grinning from ear to ear, and just that had a blush creeping to your cheeks. “I forgive you,” he whispered, leaning back in to ghost his lips all over your face. Your warm breath fanned his mouth. “Just don’t do that again. I know I don’t show it very often, but I’m secretly very …” He smiled softer this time, pecking just slightly on the corner of your mouth. “Sensitive.”

Your fingers hooked into the waistband of his sweatpants, wanting him all the more closer. “I know. I promise.” You brushed your nose over his. “If I ever ignore you for even a couple hours, you have full permission to annoy me on Slack.”

Wonwoo had to cover his mouth from letting out the loudest laugh possible, but it made you feel all the better to see him happy. You could spend forever seeing him this happy. You got up on your tiptoes just to stare at him more, to press yourself closer and feel his grin against your cheek.

But he was holding your face now, sighing down at you with a smile that almost made you swoon. “For the record,” he replied, “I love you too.” 

[op-sys-chaos]

DPxDC prompt (demon twins au)

A video from your son, the email was titled. Bruce was confused. Which of his kids would send a video to his public work email??

Bruce clicked play.

On the screen was a boy who look a lot like Damian, but most certainly wasn’t him.

“This video is for the eyes of Bruce Wayne only.

Hi Dad. I’m Danny. You likely don’t know I exist, and if you’re receiving this, I’m already dead. Well, more dead than I already was. Maybe it’s cruel of me to send you a message post-mortem, but you deserve the truth, and telling you earlier would’ve put you in danger.

This email is set to automatically send if I haven’t opened my computer for 3 days. I sometimes set it longer if I’m on vacation or expecting trouble, but I’ve mostly likely been away from home for a bit over three days if you’re receiving this.

I don’t know who killed me. Obviously. I’m recording this in advance. But it was probably either the GIW or my adoptive parents, the Fentons. I half-died at 14 and became a local ghost superhero, but they never realized I was trying to help and kept talking about tearing ghost-me apart molecule by molecule, so I bet that’s what happened. There will be nothing left of me to bury. Sorry about that!

The rest of the story is this. I was raised in an assassin cult, eventually escaping at the age of 6 when they sent me on mission and I successfully faked my death.

My biggest regret is that I escaped alone. And that’s the reason I’m reaching out to you.

You’re a civilian. If you know too much about the League of Assassins you’ll be in danger. But I need you to save my twin Damian. He’s likely still there after all these years. He never wanted to escape; he took pride in being the heir to the league. He’s probably going to be stabby; he’s an assassin after all. But it’s not his fault. Ra’s - our grandfather - brainwashed him a lot more than he brainwashed me because Damian was more susceptible to it. It’s not his fault. Please. Save him. I’m begging you. My biggest regret is leaving Damian in the league. You have a chance to save him. Please, please do it.

I wish it would’ve been safe for me to get to know you. You seem like a cool dad, from what I’ve seen of you on the news with your oldest kids. I bet you’re like that with the youngest you hide from the public too. I wish you all the best. Thank you for listening.

Your long lost almost certainly dead by now son, Danny Fenton.”

Bruce took a second to process this, then picked up his phone and dialed his youngest’s number.

“Father.”

“Damian, did you have a twin named Danny?”

“…Who told you?”

Bruce hung up and sent Damian the video. He needed a minute to process this anyway.

Damian called back a few minutes later, after watching the video.

“Father. I do not care what state he is in. We must discover exactly what happened to Danny. Even if there is only a single molecule left. We must discover the truth.”

“I couldn’t agree more, Damian.”

Dealer’s choice on whether Danny is alive. The few ideas I have for this are:

- they find him mid-vivisection and rescue him

- they find what’s left of him post-vivisection and post his core being crushed

- he’s perfectly fine and just forgot to open his computer (maybe clockwork made sure he forgot?) and now he’s panicking about the fact that his family knows about him and could be in danger. He wanted them to know he existed, not make themselves a walking target for the league by finding him and trying to bring him home!

- Jazz found the automatic email and, deciding to meddle in her brother’s life and him back to his family and maybe get a good parent for herself as a bonus, sent it early

- Technus decided to start shit and sent it while haunting Danny’s computer

- Clockwork screwed with time to make sure it got sent

Lmk what yall do with this!

[quietplace26]

What say you to a Chubby!MC?

Once again, this idea spawned during a chat with @arn9tails about exposing what chubby actually looks like to Genshin, and I thought, you know what? Screw it, let's do this.

Also, once again using @arn9tails lovely size difference Genshin au. Also using my bias, Zhongli once again. I love this old dragon man so much. ❤️

Warnings: OCness, cringe, some fat shaming and slurs. Zhongli being a little horny for Chubby!MC. A little Dark!Zhongli. Yandere!Zhongli?

Zhongli

Like many others who were avid gamers, Chubby!MC knew of Genshin Impact. How could she not? It was her comfort game.

From dealing with snide comments about her weight from both family and coworkers alike. To failing to find a boyfriend who tolerated her larger form, much less love her for herself.

Fat. Lardass. Whale. Pig. "Why can't you just lose weight like a normal woman?" or "What? Hungry again, piggy?", And so many cruel words flow through her head

At the very least, she had Genshin Impact. She could always fall back on this game and its characters to bring up her mood after a long day.

One certain character ALWAYS brought up her mood, no matter what.

Zhongli. The retired Geo Archon. Geo daddy, as many of his simps calls him. Chubby!MC, like many other Zhongli simps, adored this man.

She thought he was handsome, wise, strong, mysterious, and all around, a down-to-earth man.

He was her dream man... But alas, he was nothing but that. A dream. Something NOT real.

Besides, even IF he was real, why would he ever pay attention to someone of Chubby!MC's size? If anything, someone like Ningguang had better chance with a gorgeous body like hers...

Chubby!MC's mood goes down the drain then and she shuts off her computer, making a mental thought about going to the gym... again.

Maybe this time she wouldn't be scared off by the giggles or whispered insults from other gym goers...

But then something more important than going to the gym to lose weight happens.

7 very large land masses appeared all around the world. 7 very large and familiar land masses at that.

Mondstadt, Liyue, Inazuma, Sumeru, Fontaine, Natlan, and Snezhnaya. The 7 nations of Teyvat. Of Genshin Impact. They... They were real!

...And also apparently very, VERY big! From reports, the people- the Teyvatians as Genshin players had been calling them, were massive compared to an Earthling human!

Truthfully Chubby!MC didn't know how to react to the news. Genshin Impact was real now? The characters that brought her comfort were real. Zhongli... he was real?

That last thought made her heart skip a beat. Oh... He was real.

But that excitement fades as the reality hits that it didn't matter if he was real. He was still out of her reach, no matter what.

...Or at least that's what she originally thought.

Cut to a few months later, and news about a event in Chubby!MC's city was circling about.

Apparently it was a raffle, and winners could have the honor of going a grand party that would have the Archon's themselves attending.

And as for why they were even in Chubby!MC's nation, it was because of a political meeting between a large group of Earthling political powers

The party is supposed to be something of a moral boost thing. To bring the two races, the Teyvatians and Earthlings, closer together.

Chubby!MC honestly considered entering, but thought against it. She wouldn't be able to handle finding out she lost.

Soon enough, she hears there's only one invitation left. And she thinks, that's that. She lost her chance due to her second guessing herself.

However...

Chubby!MC sits in one of her workplace bathroom stalls, her hands shakily held a piece of paper as she stared down at it in shock.

The words said it all. Winner.

Rewinding to a bit earlier today, Chubby!MC was doing some work when an envelope was tossed on her desk and some obnoxious giggles come from the cubicles near her.

For context, some of the girls from her job won a spot at the party, and they were trying to rub it in her face by throwing what they thought was a dud raffle ticket at her.

Key word. Thought. Because the words on the paper clearly said Winner. Chubby!MC could go to the party!

She could see and maybe, just maybe, even meet Zhongli...

Cut to the day of the party, and Chubby!MC finds herself within a large sports stadium along with the other party goers.

Apparently it was being held here because of the Teyvatians, which makes sense considering their size.

"....Ugh, gross. Look at her..."

"Yeah. Who let a whale in here?"

"And in a dress like that?"

Chubby!MC flinches at the snide comments whispered behind her as she found herself alone on the field as the other Earthling party goers paired up with one another. More than one of them were throwing her rude looks or sneers.

Biting her lip, Chubby!MC glances down at her dress. It was rather modest in her eyes. A simple yellow (Geo yellow) dress that she thought was pretty and the kind store clerk that helped her picked it out said it show off her- not chubby, but curvy body nicely.

But of course, people had to be cruel...

She barely holds down the urge to sniffle as she slowly takes a sip of wine, noticing the people leering at her had suddenly gone pale and scurried away.

Of course, she does notice once a large shadow covers her form.

Blinking, she slowly glances up, and squeaks when she sees the familiar impish grin of the Ameno Archon, Venti.

"Well, well, well. What have we here? A lone Crystalfly among some noisy flies? And a yellow one at that..."

He squints at Chubby!MC, and his smile grows more playful as he lowers his hand to her, urging her to climb on.

"Why don't you come with me? I know someone who'd be very interest in meeting you, little Geo Crystalfly."

Chubby!MC barely has time to even breath before the Ameno Archon gently scoops her up and begins walking towards the other Archons who were just arriving as well.

"Hey, Blockhead! Look at what I found~"

Zhongli, who was talking to Ei, turned to Venti, and Chubby!MC's feels her heart skipped a beat as those intense but mysterious yellow golden eyes zeroed in on her.

He was just as inhumanely handsome as she imagined him being in real life...

Venti comes to a stop before the now still Geo Archon, the man still staring down at Chubby!MC. In an almost animal like fashion, he tilts his head slowly, and for a sec Chubby!MC thinks she saw draconic slits in his eyes before they disappeared.

"...And who is this, Barbatos?"

Venti does his signature 'eheh' before awkwardly saying he never got Chubby!MC's name.

"But isn't she pretty? A pretty little Geo Crystalfly!

Chubby!MC was pretty sure her round cheeks were glowing red from how embarrassed she was. She wasn't pretty! Ei is pretty! Mauvika is pretty! They were skinny and she wasn't-

"...Hm, I never thought I would agree with you on something like this, but yes, she is very pretty."

Zhongli's voice cuts Chubby!MC's negative thoughts, causing her to whip her head towards the Geo Archon in confusion. And her soul nearly leaves her body as he sees him smile at her.

Oh God this man-

And that's how Chubby!MC found herself suddenly surrounded by all seven Archon not even a few minutes later.

It was a surreal experience. Meeting characters she only knew from through her computer screen.

But meeting and having the chance to talk to them all, a magical experience.

But what beat all of that was the fact she was now being held by Zhongli after she was confiscated from the bard's hold.

His fingers were wrapped loosely around her plump form as he held her, gently squeezing.

The soft pudge of her smaller form squishing between his fingers, making her embarrassment spike along with something else...

Chubby!MC shivers, recalling how dangerous the fingers that were holding her so gently could be.

They were fingers of a being that was over 6000 years old. Fingers that held and built weapons, hurled spears at gods, shattered mountains, and built a whole nation.

And yet... They held her with such gentleness...

She tries to focus on the conversation between the Archons, ignoring the gawking Earthlings on the ground and the sounds of pictures being taken.

She could already see tomorrow's headlines. 'Overweight woman held by a real God' or something along the line...

Now a little afraid that her... her disgusting, fat presence could cause some backlash on the Archons, she quietly asks to be put down as she fights the urge to cry....

Zhongli refused to put her down, however.

Zhongli's fingers flex around her plump form, making her squeak at the unexpected gesture, and one large finger gently hooks under her chin, forcing Chubby!MC to look up at the Geo Archon.

Zhongli: "Why? Is something wrong, little Crystalfly?"

Ah, there he goes using that nickname Venti gave her! Why were they calling her that?! She wasn't pretty or dainty like a Crystalfly!

But after some more probing, this time some of the other Archons asking as well, Chubby!MC's fingers dig into her dress anxiously as she quietly tells the truth...

Telling that her 'fat' presence might cause issues, about the pictures being taken and the gossip.

Chubby!MC: "W-what was I thinking, coming to this event with a body like mine-"

She's cut off by Zhongli's large, gloved thumb covering her mouth, his face stern as he glanced over at the ever-curious Earthlings, most of which had begun to foolishly lose their fear.

And she caught some of their words... And tears immediately build up in her eyes.

"Wow, look at her. She looks like a fucking beach ball in his hands."

"Think she'd bounce if he tossed her?"

"Nah, fat bitch like her would definitely pop like a balloon!"

Oh, she was definitely crying now...

She also doesn't notice how Zhongli and the other Archons had stiffened at the cruel words thrown at her so callously.

Whimpering, Chubby!MC squirms more, pleading to be put down so she could run away from this mess.

But again. Zhongli would NOT put her down. Instead, to her horror, he turns and walks over to where those cruel words came from, his footsteps shaking the earth more than before.

Chubby!MC quietly mutters his name in confusion, but the massive God ignores her as his expression darkens.

The once snickering group of Earthlings immediately goes silent as Zhongli's silent form leers over them, expression still dark, and quite frankly, terrifying.

Zhongli: "...Apologize to her. Now."

Chubby!MC of course tries to defuse the situation by saying it was fine; she was more than used to comments like that.

That, as it would turn out, would be the wrong thing to say.

In front of all the earthlings in stadium, and even on national television itself, Zhongli declares to her he was going to take her back to Liyue.

...Was she seriously about to be kidnapped by her favorite character?

And the answer was yes, yes, she was as Chubby!MC finds herself being carried off by Zhongli, who goes to join the other Archons, and they leave for the set-up wave point nearby.

But she couldn't just let herself be taken! She had a life, a job-

Her panicked thoughts are cut off when Zhongli presses her closer to his chest, smushing her chubby cheek against his suit jacket.

He murmurs quiet promises of her being safe in Liyue. That she would never hear such disgusting things said about her body ever again. She would be treated well and with respect she deserved.

Zhongli: "From now on, you will be under my care, little Crystalfly."

And that... sounded awfully like a threat. A threat Chubby!MC should clearly be afraid of if she had any braincells...

However... was it selfish of her to want to be taken care of? To have someone not mock her for weight or force on diets that never work.

Was it selfish that she wanted genuine affection? Love?

And honestly... did she even have anything worth staying around here for?

Chubby!MC's job was awful. Her coworkers and boss even more so. Her family only probes her about losing weight and being pretty like her sisters so she could get married, and her love life was nonexistent.

So... Was anything truly her holding back from being taken to Liyue?

Realizing this, Chubby!MC stops struggling. She goes quiet as the Archons walked up to the wave point where, one by one, each Archon teleported back to their respected nations.

Venti was the last to go before them, and he cheekily asks for Chubby!MC to come and visit his nation once she settles in, even saying he'd loved to share some dandelion wine with her, before teleporting off with a laugh as Zhongli growls at him.

Chubby!MC hears Zhongli take a deep breath, calming himself before he too activates the wave point, and smiles down at her.

Zhongli: "Come along now, little Crystalfly. Liyue awaits us."

Zhongli's POV

Zhongli hadn't expected much from this 'party' the earthlings scrounged up. Especially since they made it a bigger fiasco than need be.

The other Archons agreed with him. So, together they agreed to go to the party.... But leave immediately afterwards and return to their nations after a couple of minutes.

Well, that was the plan. At least, until he hears Barbatos call out to him. "Hey Blockhead! Look at what I found~"

And in the bard's hands was probably the most endearing looking Earthling he's ever seen, looking up at him with wide, pretty eyes.

Her body was built differently than other Earthling women he's met so far, and that even included other Teyvatian women.

He was so used to slim built females, he never really considered ones with more meat on their bones... and honestly, it was lovely sight to behold.

A body that reminded him of a plump, juicy Sunsettia fruit. Thick in all the right places, and no doubt very, very soft and squishy.

And to wrap it all up in a pretty bow was the fact she was wearing HIS colors. A bright Geo Yellow dress...

So, it came to no surprise that he confiscated the soft earthling from the now smug looking Ameno Archon.

Zhongli honestly wanted to growl and swat that look off that face, but he had an image to hold up, so-

Oh... And it turns out the soft looking Earthling really was as soft and squishy as she looked.

He could barely hold down the urge to purr as carefully held the fragile being in his hands. She really was all pillowy softness in all the right places.

Truly a treasure he had been gifted with. Hm... he makes a mental note to remember to send some fresh Liyue wine to Barbatos for finding such a darling creature...

Because of this unexpected situation, Zhongli decided to stay longer at the party, if only to hold and be close to soft little Earthling in his hands...

To his displeasure, however, the other Archons seems to follow his lead, finding the soft, chubby earthling to be precious, and gently probe her with questions, flustering the poor dear.

And the urge to swat at Venti grows even stronger-

But then his attention is drawn back to his little Crystalfly. She was squirming in his hands, gently tapping his fingers to get his attention.

But truthfully, his eyes were glued in on her thick but soft looking thighs that flashes into view as the Earthling's dress hikes up unintentionally in her squirming.

His mouth suddenly feels dry and his fingers flex unintentionally, causing the plump Earthling to let out an adorable squeak.

Feeling her flesh, soft and full, spill over his fingers...

...He wondered how it would feel to have her sit on his fac-

A boney elbow quickly jams into his side. The culprit? Venti. The Ameno Archon hisses for him to "get his mind out of the gutter". A strange Earthling term but message received.

So, he politely asks what's wrong... and his opinion of Earthlings (baring, of course, Chubby!MC.) somehow, if possible, went even further down.

His little Crystalfly was ashamed of her weight, when in honesty, she should be praised for it.

Yet, from her words and body language alone, it was clear other Earthlings didn't share his view on beauty.

This made more apparent when Zhongli hears the quiet whispers and sneers of other Earthlings around him. All of whom was insulting his now crying Crystalfly.

All because of her weight.

And despite wanting to smite the disgusting Earthlings dust, his little Crystalfly showed kindness towards her harassers. Saying it was fine when it was obviously wasn't. And... And that she was used to it.

Used. To. It? She was used to this nonsense?!

No. No, this would not continue. If the Earthlings couldn't see this precious little thing's beauty... then he'll just take her back to Liyue with him.

And if the Earthlings decide to make a ruckus about it? Well... One does not poke a dragon or God and walk away in one piece...

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Primal (Part 5)

Summary: Tim's missing, the team makes a major breakthrough in the case and more than one secret will be unraveled. Above all else though, Beau and the reader make a life changing decision in the heat of the moment...

Primal Masterlist

Pairing: Alpha!Beau Arlen x Omega!reader

Word Count: 7,700ish

Warnings: language, angst, violence, drugging, serial killers, death, kidnapping

A/N: Here's a big one for ya! 😉

Reader POV

“Motherfucker!” Beau shouted, followed with a a garbled string of curses. You looked up from the laptop in front of you in the conference room. Across the hall, Beau had ripped off his bulletproof vest and thrown it across his office, knocking his computer monitor off his desk. 

“They lost track of Tim, didn’t they,” you said when he slowly walked across the hall and opened the door. He nodded, closing his eyes.

“They must have found the airtag the second they left. Stuck it on a big rig. We checked with our local Marshals and they didn’t bring him in yet. Douglas Evans is a transfer. Six months ago. He’s claiming Tim escaped and he’s out looking and refuses to give his location. Y/N, I’m so-” 

“Don’t apologize.” You got up, pushing him out into the hall, pulling the door after you. He shook his head.

“Y/N. I promised-”

“Tim’s a big boy. And we know odds are Hunter, Douglas Evans, whatever the hell we’re calling him, isn’t going to kill Tim if they want to frame him for the murders.” You put your hands on his arms, closing your eyes. “It’s not good but Hunter clearly has a plan. If he wanted Tim dead, he’d have shot him in the parking lot. We have time to save him. So let’s figure out the plan. If you were going to frame someone, what would you do?”

“Hunter didn’t take him into the office yet though. That’d be his first move,” said Beau. You peeled open your eyes, sliding your hands down, Beau catching them in his own.

“Would it? Because Teddy and Hunter still want me dead and you can’t blame a serial killer, aka their fall guy Tim, for it if he’s in custody. Now, Tim either truly did escape which I’m not buying because he would have contacted me if he had or Hunter’s holding him somewhere until they can take care of me and blame it on Tim.”

“Hunter has to know that it won’t be that easy. My whole department knows-”

“Beau, It doesn’t matter what your department knows.” You pulled your hands away, staring up at him. “It’s what you can prove and if I’m dead, it’s conjecture. If they’ve got Tim’s DNA at other murder scenes, it doesn’t matter what anyone here says, including you. Beau, you have to start thinking about the fact that Tim’s not the only target as my eventual murderer. Hunter was probably at your house tonight, had access to things like your hairbrush, fingerprints.”

“So, frame me too in some way,” he said, your head nodding. He ran a hand over his face, breathing deeply. “So even if we find Hunter and Tim, your brother and I are probably still screwed.”

“Not if we can prove it’s a setup. We could catch Hunter in the act,” you said, Beau considering it. “If we did that, I can be Tim’s alibi. They won’t go digging too closely if I’m dead but I’m alive? When they really take a look at stuff, they’ll find out the timeline doesn’t work and he couldn’t have committed those other murders. Tonight was literally the first night in ten months we were separated. Tim and I have gone everywhere together. They need me dead for this to work.”

He sighed, a frown forming on his face. “I’m all for catching Hunter and you have proven yourself capable, sweetie. You have. But you’re not a cop and there’s no way in hell I’m putting you in jeopardy. Tim wouldn’t want that either.”

“I figured you’d say that,” you said with a smile, Beau raising an eyebrow. “While you were running around the past hour, I found a friend.”

“A…friend?” You smiled, poking your head into the conference room, waving to the omega with dark hair. “Uh, who the hell is that? That is not one of the officer’s Jenny picked for your protection team.”

“Trust me, I know,” you said, the officer coming outside with a nervous smile. “Beau this is Officer Lucy-”

“Wilde. I’m aware. She transferred from LA last week,” said Beau, crossing his arms. His green eyes narrowed on her, Lucy trying to maintain a relaxed face and failing horribly. “Why are you not out on street patrols with your partner as instructed Officer Wilde? You better have a damn good reason-”

“Because,” you cut in, Beau raising his eyebrows at you, “I know her.”

“You know her?” asked Beau, looking between you.

“Yes, I do,” you said, giving Lucy a reassuring smile. “We sat next to each other in biology freshman year of college. We were friends back in undergrad, fell out of touch when we graduated.”

“That’s nice and all but Officer Wilde you have to realize, I have to be leery of any new hires we’ve had in the past six months. Hunter clearly isn’t working alone and the fact you knew Y/N previously only makes me more suspicious of you, not less.”

“Tell him what you told me,” you said, Beau growing more agitated. 

“Y/N, go back in the conference room. Officer-”

“This happened in the eighties,” Lucy blurted out, Beau looking at her like she’d grown a second head. “I pulled cold case files and searched for similarities of our previous victims.”

“Excuse me? My office. Now. Y/N, back in the conference room.” He shoved open his door, Officer Wilde following after. Beau glared when you walked in. “Y/N, stay away from her. She could be dangerous.”

“Trust me. Please.” He was still, twitching his cheek for brief moment before he zeroed in on Wilde. 

“You are not a detective, Officer Wilde. You are a street cop who by all means, has disobeyed her direct orders.”

“Sir-”

“Why were you doing research on Hunter? It better be good,” growled Beau in a way that made you squeeze your legs together. He cleared his throat, glancing at you once, clearing scenting you. Lucy stepped forward, steadying herself. 

“Detective Hoyt mentioned the Hunter situation during my orientation last week and I thought it sounded vaguely familiar. So I’ve been poking around on my lunch breaks and found there was a case study we went over at the academy that had similar…circumstances.” She lifted her chin, Beau still sizing her up. “There were a string of unsolved deaths in the late eighties in LA, New York, Baltimore, Orlando and Boston. It was suspected to be a serial killer but no evidence was ever found to prove it was anything other than natural causes.”

“My father worked in all of those cities during that time, Beau.” You watched him look at you and Wilde, his finger raising. “Douglas Evans is too young to have been involved back then. I think Teddy killed those omegas.”

“There was a survivor,” said Wilde. Beau’s finger pointed at her, Lucy talking quicker “Although they labeled her as having a mental breakdown. Evidence pointed to her boyfriend attacking her, not someone else. She claimed a man abducted them both and injected them with something. She went into heat and he went…primal. The police laughed her off, said it wasn’t possible.”

“And the boyfriend? What’d he say?” Beau asked. Wilde shook her head.

“Police killed him when he ran. There was no way to verify her story and she ended up overdosing a few years later since she couldn’t cope.”

“So it’s just a story,” said Beau, dropping his hand. “Thank you for that Officer Wilde but I need facts, something provable. I already know Douglas Evans is Hunter and Teddy Y/L/N is very likely trying to murder his own daughter. Unless you can tell me something about where Tim Barclay might be held right now, get your ass back to work.”

“Beau,” you said, putting his hand to your neck. He reacted visibly, touching his own, breathing deeply, calming down slowly. “It’s important. It shows a pattern. Teddy killed omegas on his own all those years and then in Boston, he took this husband and wife and made the Alpha go primal. Now, Hunter has been killing omegas on his own and those guys with him? Maybe he turned them primal so he had more muscle. Maybe Teddy taught Hunter and he’s like a protege.”

“Yes but how does that help us find Hunter?” You looked at Officer Wilde, her back straightening. She glanced down, taking a moment to answer.

“Because logically we know based on the story, if Hunter is Teddy’s student, then Hunter most likely intends on turning Barclay primal and having him go after Y/N which will be irrefutable evidence.” You swallowed, Lucy finding your hand, giving it a squeeze. 

God, you wish you hadn’t fallen out of touch with her. Wished you were meeting up like a pair of normal people for lunch and to catch up, not talking about the fact a serial killer had your brother and was going to do something awful to him. 

“In theory, once an Alpha goes primal, they can’t go back,” she said. “Tim probably wouldn’t be able to make a legal case for himself as he’d likely admit his hatred for omegas and he’d ultimately be screwed, sir.” 

Beau nodded, giving you a forlorn look. “If Tim’s been turned primal, Y/N, it’s most likely already too late for him. He’ll probably try to mate or kill every omega he crosses paths with. They used to outright kill them back in the day for a reason.” 

“I know,” you said quietly. “So let’s draw Hunter out before that happens. Let Officer Wilde go undercover as me. Get Hunter to make a mistake and his greed to have Tim kill me be his downfall.”

All three of your heads turned when there was a flurry of footsteps down the hall, someone poking their head in. “Barclay called 911, said he got away from Hunter’s crew and is on his way here.”

A car screeched out front, your heart breathing a sigh of relief as you caught his bruised face outside Beau’s window. You rushed out of the room, jogging outside to the front of the station, a number of officers out there already. 

“Barclay?” called Beau as Tim held his side, sporting a frown. 

“You gonna stand there looking pretty or help me, Beau. Pretty sure I broke a few ribs,” he said. He smelled just like himself, only hurt if anything else. You ran over to him, Tim slumping against you. “You have no idea how glad I am to see you.”

“Me too,” you said, giving him a gentle side hug as a sharp prickling scent filled your nose. Your eyes drifted over to where Beau’s scent was fierce, burning with worry almost. Beau’s eyes went wide, his body already moving.

“Y/N, get away him!” You went airborne, landing hard on your back, the cold pavement below knocking the wind of out you. Tim’s eyes were nearly black when you saw them staring down at you. There was the gentlest scrape against the column of your neck, the side of your neck without your gland, before his weight was gone. You rolled to your side, Beau’s arms wrapped tight around a snarling Tim, other officers rushing past in the background.

“No! Y/N!” he spat, your body jerking away when Tim reached for you. He got a hand on your ankle, Beau having to kick his hand away. “Y/N!”

“He’s primal! Everyone but Alpha’s stay back!” shouted Beau as more officers came over, Tim doing everything in his power to break free, his face contorted in hatred as he stared you down. 

“Inside,” said Jenny, pulling you up by the arm, shoving you backwards into Wilde’s chest. “Now!”

“Y/N get back here!” snarled Tim as Jenny dragged you behind her, every lurch of Tim’s body making you flinch. Your head was swimming as you were guided back inside, sitting you down on Beau’s couch after a moment. 

No. Tim hadn’t turned Primal. The man spent his entire life devoted to protecting you. There was no way he’d just…no. You hadn’t lost him. You refused to accept it.

“Lucy,” you said quietly, getting to shaky feet, flinching when you could hear Tim and Beau shouting at each other outside. She nodded, grabbing your hands. “There has to be a way to turn off the primal in him. Is there anything, anything, you found about that couple that was attacked and the Alpha that was turned primal?”

She sighed. “The only thing was he was running away from his omega when the cops showed up which seemed strange. Primal Alphas once they lock in on an omega, they always go to them. Always.”

You nodded, biting your bottom lip. “Tim said Beau out there. That’s how Beau knew Tim wasn’t himself. Tim always calls him Barlen,” you said, going over to Beau’s discarded bulletproof vest on the ground and picking it up. “He was warning us.”

“Y/N. He attacked you,” she said softly.

“No. He said Beau to warn us. He had time to bite my gland but instead he went to the wrong side of my neck to give Beau a shot. My brother’s still in there and he is fighting like hell. We aren’t giving up on him,” you said, lifting the vest over your head, pulling the sides taught. “We think Primal Alphas lock in on their chosen omega?” She nodded. “Well he can’t have me and I’m going to go prove it to him.”

“Y/N, what are you doing?” she asked when you walked out of Beau’s office, people in the bullpen standing from their desks. Jenny looked up from a computer, fury in her eyes.

“Get your ass back-” You drew the gun that was still on your hip, Jenny frowning. “You wouldn’t shoot me.”

“I wouldn’t kill you. Shoot you, now that I’d do. Now let me go save my brother.” She grumbled, letting you pass. You ran outside as fast as you could, Tim’s loud snarl reverberating down your spine when he caught your scent.

“Y/N! What the fuck are you doing! Get back inside!” Beau shouted as you ran to him and where six Alphas were working on restraining Tim.

“You want to be my damn Alpha, Barclay?” you said to Tim, his eyes wild. “Too fucking bad because I’m taken.”

You turned to Beau, grabbing him by the back of the neck, his whole body rigid.

“Y/N. You want to…” he trailed off as you nodded.

“I know you wanted to do this differently but if you claim me right now, right in front of him, and he knows he can’t have me anymore, there’s a chance it might save him. I don’t know. I don’t know Beau. It’s the only idea I have. I can’t ask you to do this for me.”

“You don’t have to ask.” You were vaguely aware of the guttural scream that tore through the air as his teeth sank into your bonding gland. Flashes of heat and pain and pleasure rippled across your skin, a thudding boom echoing through your chest that seemed to last and last. You were shaking as you and Beau fell to your knees together, his teeth pulling back, replaced with a soft kitten kiss over the fresh mark in your skin. Your head turned, Beau bringing his lips up to yours, meeting them with a slow, sensual kiss that had you forgetting you were in a parking lot with about eight other people.

“Sir!” You and Beau both growled at the interruption of your bonding, the annoyance quickly washing away as you saw Tim laying on the ground breathing hard but no longer struggling.

“Tim?” His eyes were closed, a flushness leaving his skin as his scent started to calm.

“Give him every damn dose of Rutcan we have in the place,” said Beau, a spray nozzle already under Tim’s nose. He winced as he was forced to inhale it, his eyes flashing open wide. Beau kept his body in front of yours as another does was forced on Tim, your head peeking around him. “Barclay?”

Tim lazily turned his head, staring over at you both. “Did you just fucking claim my sister, Barlen? In a parking lot? The fuck kind of Alpha are you? And why the fuck am I in cuffs!” You smiled, Beau chuckling, hugging you hard.

“Your sister’s being Sarah Connor again and saving your ass. Smart, smart woman,” said Beau, kissing your temple. Tim just shook his head, his face going blank. “Barclay? You okay bud?”

“I don’t feel good,” he said, closing his eyes, the officers looking to Beau. 

“Get him to the hospital asap and do not leave him unrestrained until we get the clear. You six keep an eye on him.” 

“Y/N,” Tim groaned, your body turning towards him, still wrapped up under the warm cozy layer of Beau’s scent. “M’sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you said, wanting to go to him but Beau keeping a hold on you. “Just get better, that’s all I want right now.” 

He nodded slowly, Beau giving a few more orders before walking back into the station with you, practically slamming straight into Jenny in the foyer. 

“You!” she glowered, pointing a finger straight in your face. “I should fucking arrest you-”

“Stand down, Hoyt,” he said, interlacing your fingers. 

“She pulled a gun on me!”

“I imagine you got in her way then,” he said. Your jaw dropped, Beau leading you back to his office. He quickly shut the door and locked it, pulling the blinds down with a groan. 

“Jenny’s right you know. She was just following your orders.” You smiled when Beau shrugged. “Dude.”

“And she could have come after you if she really wanted to but she didn’t,” he said, wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling your body flush to his. “Why the hell did you put on my bulletproof vest? You thought you didn’t look hot enough in your normal clothes?”

“You mean your jacket?” He grinned, something boyish about it that made you smirk.

“You do have a tendency to be wearing my stuff when you’re being a badass, just saying.” You punched his arm lightly, smiling up at him.

“I figured if it didn’t work, it’d piss him off and if he got free somehow, it was a tiny bit of protection. Honestly, I wasn’t really thinking. I just know he’d never give up on me and I couldn’t do nothing. I don’t even know if it worked in the long run. How do we know it’s not temporary or-” He pressed his lips to yours, capturing them in a slow, calming kiss. There was no frantic energy, no sense of an Alpha wanting his newly claimed Omega. No, this was…gentle. Sweet. His hands holding your cheeks, silently telling your body to take it easy. 

Your mouths parted slowly, Beau’s green eyes kind as you stared into them.

“We’ll get him to the hospital and keep him safe while they figure out how to make sure he’s alright for good. Don’t worry about him or Jenny or even Hunter. I got you.”

“Beau, I made you claim me to help him,” you whispered. “I shouldn't have done that. We were going to wait.”

“You didn’t make me do anything, Y/N. I made a choice. So what if we’re doing this all backwards? I’m divorced with a kid. Serial killers apparently love you. We were never traditional.” You felt yourself smile despite the worry in your gut. He kissed your temple, giving you a deep hug. “A few days from now, when this has all quieted down, I’m going to make you dinner.”

“Your house is a crime scene.”

“I will take you out to dinner then,” he corrected, tucking your hair behind your ear, tilting his head at you. “We’re going to go on a date and another one and another one and if we find out we can’t stand each other, then we’ll go through un-claiming.”

“You’ve been through it before with your ex,” you said quietly. He hummed. “Does it hurt as much as they say?”

He paused, nodding once. “It’s not fun but I’m not worried about it happening with us. You feel…different than Carla did,” he said, tracing his hand over your gently throbbing mark. You turned into the touch without meaning to, Beau smiling. “Now stop making out with the boss and go work with Officer Wilde on figuring out why Teddy wants you dead. Apparently the omegas are the only ones capable of making breaks in this case while us Alphas are walking around like a pack of idiots.”

“You’re not an idiot…” You trailed off and took a step back, looking around the room. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, following you over to where a picture of all the officers at the station hung on the wall. You pointed at it, Beau taking it off the wall, setting it atop his desk. “This is from about six months ago. Officer Wilde is our only new staff member since then. What are you thinking?”

“You just said it yourself. You and my brother are smart. Jenny’s smart. You got a whole office full of smart Alphas. So why are me and Lucy the only ones that have picked up on the link to the cold cases? Surely someone on your team would have caught that.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t follow beside the fact the Alphas are acting like morons,” he said, watching you tap your finger to the yellow banner at the top of the picture. “Y/N. What?”

“Helena Inter-Departmental Training Seminar. This looks like most of the office was at this thing, right?” He nodded.

“We went to a skeleton crew that day. Left some of the newer officers behind to man the ship. Most law enforcement offices around here do that.”

“Who else was at this thing? The Marshals?”

“Them, FBI, County PD, state troopers…why?” 

“Just entertain me,” you said, sliding around behind him to sit at his desk. He put in his password at the computer, leaning over the back of his chair as he told you what program to open to search the database. “Now Lucy searched Boston cold case and…no results.”

“Okay?” You spun, looking up at him with a smile. “Why are you happy about that?”

“Because Lucy didn’t work here six months ago. Because on her computer she gets results for that search.”

“Someone fucked with our computers,” he said, standing up straighter. “The day we were all out of office at training. Motherfucker, no wonder we couldn’t find shit for so long.”

He unlocked his door, popping into the cubicle next door where an admin sat. 

“Molly, when’s the last time we had IT in here? Something big, like an update all the computers big.” She raised an eyebrow as she typed on her computer, glancing down at the results after a moment. 

“Looks like March-”

“18th?” She nodded, Beau flashing his eyes wide. “Fuck. That was the day of the training. We’ve been fucked this whole time.”

“You could check security, see if you caught him on tape?” you said. Beau went off to investigate while you returned to the conference room. He took his time coming back, shaking his head when he popped his head in. 

“Good news is we know the problem,” he sighed. “Bad news, the entire department needs new computers and we don’t know which agencies we can trust to get us those. Officer Wilde’s is the only one without whatever block or virus on it in the whole station,” said Beau. She was about to relinquish it when he shook his head. “No. You’re doing good work, Wilde. You two keep researching together. The rest of us don’t need files to do a manhunt.”

“Good because we found something even weirder,” you said, hopping out of your chair, going to the white board where two officers, Travis and Viv, were finishing writing down the previous vic profiles. 

Beau took a seat, sipping on a cup of coffee while you picked up a black whiteboard marker.

“Trav, name of the earliest victim we could find with the whole suspicious natural cause death,” you said.

“Tina Paxton. ‘78. LA. Cause of death heart attack after failed attempts to contain a heat. Doctors ruled the death suspicious but no suspects were ever identified.”

“Teddy went to USC from ‘76 to ‘80. Math checks there,” you said, turning back. “Viv, earliest victim in New York. Year only.”

“‘83.”

“Teddy worked for NYPD ‘82 to ‘85,” you said, jotting it down. “Match checks again. Anybody join in. Earliest for Baltimore? Orlando?”

“‘86 and ‘89 respectively.”

You hummed, writing more. “‘85 to ‘87 Teddy worked out of the Baltimore office before transferring to a warmer climate in ‘88. And finally Boston. First victim.”

“‘90.” You spun around after writing it down, plopping the cap back on the marker.

“Correct. Teddy moved to Boston in ‘89 where he got a job at the Boston field office and has since worked to this day. Math checks again. But we’re also all wrong,” you said, the officers sharing looks. “During the summer of 1984, Teddy took a special assignment for three months in Boston in which he shadowed a Detective Brock and assisted him when his partner fell ill.”

“That’s not in the files anywhere,” said Lucy with a frown. 

“Nope,” you said, lifting your chin, dotting a line down on the board, writing more. “Because Teddy officially worked for the NYPD back then. No one would know that he was in Boston back then except for me who had to listen to his stories growing up,” you said, drawing on the board. “Now, when was Tim Barclay born?”

“Oh god, don’t tell me Teddy’s Tim’s father,” said Beau, making a face. You shook your head as she rattled off the date.

“1979,” you said, drawing a big circle around it. “Tim’s mom walked out on him when he was nearly four years old. Lucy, what’s the date listed on the missing persons report filed by her co-workers?”

Beau leaned forward in his chair. “Uh, July 14th, 1984.”

“And where did she work?” you asked, clasping your hand behind your back, Beau watching you carefully.

“A diner. Macy’s Diner?”

“Macy’s Diner,” you said, smirking at Beau, his eyebrows raising. “They serve a hell of a burger according to my father. I’ve been there myself a few times.”

Beau sighed, holding up a finger. “Y/N, I see where you’re going and that’s a leap. You think Teddy killed Tim’s mother? How do you know she didn’t actually walk out?”

“Because Tim’s biological father is a piece of human garbage and Tim never found a trace of her in the past twenty something years he’s been looking.”

“Y/N-”

“Lucy, show Beau a picture of Detective Brock.” Her eyes went wide, slowly turning the computer, the other officers and Beau’s matching.

“Detective Brock…Barclay? God, he looks just like Tim,” said Beau quietly. “Teddy worked with Tim’s father?”

You hummed, crossing your arms. “Really weird that my dad never mentioned that fact to me or Tim, isn’t it? My father, the guy who knows the movements of a suspected serial killer. My dad who’s movements match a serial killer in the eighties. I never put it together because he never mentioned a last name for the detective he worked with on special assignment but when we started digging about who Teddy worked with, well that name and the face was pretty jarring.”

“You think Teddy killed Tim’s mother?” You nodded. “It’s circumstantial.”

“But odds are Teddy did it and Brock is the one who asked him to do it to cover his ass. Who just leaves their child like that? Brock Barclay is still alive. He’s in his late seventies but he’s alive. I think we should question him.”

“You think he’d admit to having his wife killed?”

“I think Brock Barclay lives in an assisted living community in Seattle, Washington, exactly the place you have an officer you can trust right now.” Beau looked at the table, scratching his head. “Yes, it’s circumstantial. This whole damn thing is. But it’s too much of a coincidence to not mean something.”

“I’m not sending the officer I have in Seattle with Emily to do this.” You sighed, crossing your arms. “I can’t spare anyone and we don’t know how far this goes.”

“Beau-”

“Which is why you and Officer Wilde are going to Seattle to interview Brock.” You raised your eyebrows, fighting back a smile when he frowned. “I ain’t happy about it, believe me.”

“Sir, she’s not an officer,” said Lucy. Beau nodded as he stood.

“No, she is not. She’s a consultant on this case and she’ll be under your protection in the field. I won’t say no to the added benefit of getting Y/N out of town either.” You bit your bottom lip, Beau raising his chin. “I expect a confession from Brock Barclay for the murder of his wife for the amount of tax dollars we’re about to spend.”

“How are we getting there?”

“Let me worry about that.”

“And I thought my red eye from Phoenix to Philly when I was in college was bad,” you grumbled at three in the morning. You adjusted your backpack on your shoulders as you and Lucy followed a soldier down the loading door of a large military plane at some airport or base or something in Seattle. “How the hell did Beau pull this?”

“Mr. Arlen was partners in Texas with one of our commander’s old company buddies. We look out for our friends,” he said, handing a card to Lucy. “If either of you need anything while in town, please don’t hesitate to call.”

After he pointed the way towards the parking lot, you found a car waiting for you to use. You both dropped your bags in the trunk before getting inside. 

“You okay?” she asked when you checked your phone. There were a few texts from Beau. 

They’d identified the two other men with Hunter aka Douglas Evans. They’d both gone missing in town over two weeks ago from Stormy’s Bar. No luck on finding Hunter yet. Tim was at the hospital resting and recovering. Your idea about mating was old school, something done back before medicine was much of a thing but the doctors were confident it had worked and Tim was no longer Primal. To be on the safe side, they were flushing his system and keeping him restrained until he’d gone through a full cycle along with some hormone balancers. Beyond that, he had a hard time remembering anything beyond being in a warehouse.

You smiled at Beau’s very last message.

How much would I have to pay you to stay out in Seattle until this dies down? I bribe very well. Just ask Emily.

“I’m okay, Luce,” you said, shooting off a quick message that you’d landed. “Coffee and then let’s go pay this bastard a visit.”

“It’s the middle of the night.”

“So?” you said, Lucy rolling her eyes. “Dibs on being bad cop.”

“Big shocker there.”

Beau POV

I yawned as the sun rose outside the hospital around six or so. My head popped up from my phone when a door slammed. A very disgruntled Tim walked out in a gown and hospital socks, my eyebrows raising.

“Mornin’ sunshine,” I said, tossing a backpack at him. “Sorry about taking your clothes. Evidence.”

“Whatever,” he said, climbing into the backseat of my truck. A minute later he exited in my clothes, shrugging on a thick olive green jacket I used for yard work in the fall. “You hear anything from Y/N?”

“Not yet. Lucy texted about an hour ago they were about to head in to question the person of interest,” I said. Tim snatched my phone from my hands, crossing his arms. “Well, now I know you’re just being an ass right now because they already flushed every bit of Alpha shit out of you. Ever hear of manners?”

“Tell me who she’s talking to because fifteen minutes ago it was to question someone who might have information and now it’s a person of interest. I damn know well you wouldn’t send her to go talk to a suspect so who the hell is Y/N talking to?”

“May I have my phone back?” He grumbled but returned it. I put it in my pocket, taking a step back from him. “Brock Barclay.”

His eyebrows shot up, genuine confusion crossing his face. “My dad? Why the fuck is she out there talking to him? She’s never even…what the fuck, Barlen?”

“Y/N seems to think he has an idea of why Teddy wants her dead.”

“Why would he know that?” Fuck. There was no way to do this gently. Blunt honesty it was.

“Because your father’s worked together during the summer of ‘84. Y/N has a working theory Teddy killed your mother and Brock was aware.” Tim stared at me, shaking his head.

“No. No, my mother left because...she wasn’t…” He stared off into the distance, looking at something that wasn’t there. He kept shaking his head, squeezing his eyes shut. 

“We have no evidence but the fact Teddy never told you or Y/N that he knew your father lends a degree of credibility to the idea,” I said quietly, Tim walking away over to a tree, slipping around behind it. “Tim.”

He was silent. I frowned, walking over after a beat. He sat on the ground, head in his hands, tugging hard on his hair.

I sat next to him, gently pushing his hands away from the strands. “Hey. S’just an idea. Doesn’t mean anything.”

“She left,” he said, forcing his head up, unshed tears in his eyes. He frowned, fighting back the wobble in his chin. “My dad didn’t kill her.”

“Tim-”

“I found her,” he spit out. I froze, Tim closing his eyes. “It was about five years ago. It took a long time but I'd finally found her. She’d changed her name, changed her hair color. I set up a meet. She finally agreed after a few months. Turns out, she didn’t leave Brock because he was abusive. She left because she didn’t want me. She didn’t want to be a mother. The real kicker? Now she’s married and has two kids in their thirties she fucking adores. Even showed me pictures of her newborn grandkid.”

“Tim,” I said quietly, his head shaking. 

“My father hated me for making her leave. Only I got the shit. Only I got to know the evil side of him. He blamed me, a fucking toddler. Brock did not murder my mother.”

“Does Y/N know?” He shook his head.

“I never told her. I was ashamed what I found out,” he said, wiping his face with the back of his hand. “I could have accepted it if my mother didn’t want kids but no, she just didn’t want me. How the hell was I supposed to tell Y/N even my own mother couldn’t love me?”

I slapped my phone in his hand, Tim staring at me.

“First off, you’re an idiot. A massive, monumental idiot. I used to be an idiot too so we’re gonna work on that someday but right now you need to call Y/N and tell her all that because my gut says Brock still knows something Teddy doesn’t want us to know.”

Tim tapped on the phone, wiping his face off steadying himself. He typed in her number, his finger over the green button but paused. “Beau.”

I frowned, a pit forming in my gut. “You called me by my name, that’s not a good sign.” Tim stood up, yanking my arm. “What?”

“The blood they took from Y/N when she came in earlier tonight. Where is it kept?”

“Uh, the lab here probably. They wanted to do research-” He started to run back towards the hospital, pulling me with him. “Barclay, what do you need with her blood?”

“I’m thirteen years older than Y/N.”

“Congratufuckinglations. What does that have to do with anything?” I asked. Tim rolled his eyes, dragging me along.

“When I was twelve, my father dated a married woman. He did that a lot growing up but he dated this one particular woman while her husband was away at work conferences. Brock said he knew the man from when they worked together and that he’d kill us both if he ever found out so I better keep my mouth shut. Said he was a son of a bitch.”

“What-”

“Her husband was a damn Marshal, Beau. In Boston.” 

“Oh god,” I breathed out. “You think you and Y/N could be…actual…”

“We need to test that blood now because if I’m right…and Teddy is not her biological father and he found out-”

“No better way for the omega hating son of a bitch to punish his cheating wife than by killing Y/N.” We ran into the building, Tim on my tail as I jogged past the front desk, back towards Dr. Olson’s office.

“Is something wrong?” asked a nurse that’d been in with Tim earlier tonight. 

“Doc Olson. Now,” we both said. She rushed off the opposite direction, pulling him out of a patient room. He gave Tim a once over, his lips pursed. 

“Everything alright, Mr. Barclay?” he asked, Tim holding up a hand.

“We need you to do a blood test against me and Y/N to see if we’re related.” He seemed like he was going to make a comment but shook his head.

“I’ve seen enough shit tonight than to know better than to ask. I’m assuming you need the results as soon as possible?” We both nodded. “Stacy, take a blood sample from Mr. Barclay and get it down to the lab. Move the test to the front of the line. I want these gentlemen to have their results asap.”

“Thanks doc,” I said, Stacy leading Tim into a nearby empty room. 

“Honestly sheriff, the sooner I get y’all out of my hospital the better if you get my drift.” 

“Trust me, I’d love to get the hell out of here too.” I watched through the window as Tim had his arm tied off. I shot off a text to Y/N, getting a call back immediately. I closed my eyes, forcing a smile on my face. “Good morning, dear-”

“Put him on the phone, Arlen,” she said sharply. I quickly entered the room, handing it to Tim as Stacy stuck a bandage on his arm and carried away a few vials of blood. 

“Y/N would like to say good morning.” He glared, taking the phone, hitting it on speaker.

“Hi-”

“Timothy Andrew Barclay, why the hell didn’t you tell me about your mother! Why the fuck would you hide that from me!” 

“Are you mad about the whole us possibly being related thing too?” he asked quietly. Y/N breathed heavily, a tiny growl heard at the end. “Listen, I’m sorry for lying. I’m sorry for making you waste a trip out to Seattle. I’m sorry for attacking you earlier. I’m just…fucking sorry.”

“Are you okay?” she asked after a beat. I expected him to roll his eyes and shrug, tell her he was fine. He sat still though, fiddling with the bandage on his arm.

“I’m sorry if we are related you got stuck with me.” She sighed, Tim’s body tense. “Y/N-”

“Listen to me you gigantic moron. God, I want to strangle you right now.” Tim looked at me, my hands going up that I wasn’t getting involved. "I do not give a shit what some test says if we’re related or not. It changes nothing about you and me. You are always going to be my fucking neanderthal moronic idiot brother…and I need to know that you are okay cause last time I saw you you weren’t so talk to me.” I smiled, Tim’s gaze lowering to the ground. I kicked his foot, Tim sighing.

“I feel pretty shitty about nearly tearing your jugular out earlier and that people want you dead but besides that I’m peachy. I could go for a breakfast sandwich while we’re at it.”

“Can you do me a favor?” she asked, Tim straightening up. “Can you call up guinness world records and let them know of this momentous day where I did not have to drag an answer out of you for once in your damn life?”

He smiled shyly, chuckling to himself. “Always got to be a brat.”

“Naturally. Beau are you still there?” I hummed. “Now if we assume Brock is my father and that’s why Teddy wants me dead, what’s our next move? Should Lucy and I question him about my mom? We have to wait until the place opens in another hour.”

“We could talk to Y/N’s mother first, then see…” I trailed off, Tim shaking his head. “No go on talking to Y/N’s mom?”

“My dad said he put her into wit sec. She talked to us the day before we left Boston and said she was settling in,” said Y/N.

“And you two didn’t find that suspicious that she went in and you two didn’t?” I asked. 

“Of course we did but Y/N’s mom has a few medical conditions. She can’t be on the road and move fast like we could. It was still risky but safer than being with us when she wouldn’t have access to doctors or medicine,” said Tim. 

“Is your mother omega?” I asked. Tim frowned, Y/N pausing.

“Alpha…” Y/N responded. “Why?”

Tim cocked his head, rising to his feet as I held up my hands. “Barlen, she went into wit sec. She said so herself.”

“Do you know that for sure?” I asked. Tim muttered under his breath. “Y/N. You and Lucy question Brock about his affair back in the day. Try to sus out if it was your mom he had it with and any shit he might have on Teddy. Timothy and I need to see where the hell your mom is.”

“What about Hunter and his goons running around?” asked Tim. An idea popped into my head, Tim eyeing me wearily. “Oh god. I’m not going to like this am I.”

“What are you guys talking about?” asked Y/N. I swiped the phone, turning it off speaker. 

“Be safe, honey. Give us a call when you’re done with Brock.” We hung up, Tim following me towards the elevators, crossing his arms as we waited for it to arrive. 

“You want me to pretend to still be Primal in the hopes Hunter picks me up again. Don’t you.”

“Not just a pretty face, aren’t ya, Barclay?” I teased. “Did you know this hospital is hooked up with the university?” I asked, slipping in through the doors, Tim groaning when I hit the button to go down to the basement.

“Why do I feel like we’re going to the morgue,” he moaned. I grinned, Tim giving me his best bitch face. “We’re getting a dead body and pretending it’s Y/N, aren’t we.”

“Nope.” We exited into a quiet hallway, Tim leading the way down a long corridor. “I meant to ask, how’d you get Y/N out of here earlier tonight? With that whole morgue trick?”

“Came in a side entrance. Went to the basement. Stole scrubs from the laundry room. Found her in the ER. Tossed a sheet over her. People don’t tend to want to look at dead bodies unless it’s your annoyingly thorough officers.” 

“How opposed are you to body bags?” Tim stopped walking, making a face akin to a child eating asparagus for the first time. I only grinned and patted his cheek. “You’re too easy to fuck with, Barclay.”

“What the hell does she see in you,” he mumbled, following me down to hang out just outside the morgue where a doctor was inside with a body. “Why are we here?”

“Because you were in the morgue earlier tonight.”

“Yeah and?” Beau smirked.

“So where the hell was the coroner during that time?” Tim’s gaze flittered over to the glass, watching the coroner work on a body. “One of the men we identified as helping Hunter was Maxwell Bittel. Our very own previously missing hospital coroner over there.”

Tim grabbed my arm, dragging me around a corner, eyes wide. “I can’t go in undercover cold! I need comms, gps, a team-”

“There’s an air tag in the insole of the boots you’re wearing. I was smarter this time, I promise. There’s a brand new burner phone in the inner zip pocket of your jacket. And as far as my entire department knows, you are still Primal. The only people that know you aren’t are me, Y/N and Officer Wilde.”

“Who the hell is Officer Wilde?” I rolled my eyes.

“She moved here after the fact and Y/N knows her from college. It doesn’t matter.” 

“Couldn’t she be incredibly dangerous for Y/N then? What if Teddy recruited her?” 

“As far as we’re all aware, Teddy was a loving, if not somewhat absent father to Y/N right up until a few weeks before he told you two to skip town, right? Officer Wilde had absolutely zero contact with him or anyone from the Marshals during that time. Plus she’s omega and so far, he only goes after other Alphas to help him.”

“If she betrays Y/N-”

“You’ll kill me, I know-”

“It’ll break me if she dies and as your mate, it’ll probably break you too. We can’t let that happen, Arlen.” He zipped up his jacket, throwing up his hood. “Tell me what you need me to do.”

“I’m gonna need you to let me punch you in the face.”

__________

A/N: Read Part 6 here!

[technoarcanist]

WAR NEVER CHANGES. BUT,

WARFARE NEVER STOPS CHANGING

"I've seen countless reasons why most mech pilots don't make the cut, but one of the largest hurdles are the physical alterations. The implants and modifications done to the fleshware is so extreme that it's enough to push most would-be pilots away from day 1.

Back in the day, when mech tech was still in its wild west years, when the technology was still in its infancy, things were different. Levers, joysticks, switches, a chair, most of the first models were something between the cockpit of a construction vehicle and a fighter ship.

Pilots in those days still consisted largely of the usual suspects. Test pilots, army jocks, space force veterans looking for something new, the occasional crazy who lucked their way up the ranks. All you needed back then was to be fit enough to work complex machinery. 'Handler's wouldn't be a coined phrase for nearly a decade. I still remember being a kid and seeing repurposed older models in the mech fighting streams.

Everything changed with the Bidirectional Cerebellum Computer Interface. To say nothing of how it changed civilian life, it was a military marvel. The BiCCI saw the creation of Mechs as we understand them today. The first generation were just retrofits, older models with a pilot's chair, and even manual controls to use in an emergency, but even then we knew that was only temporary. Before long, sleek frames of sharp angles, railguns and plasma cannons were rolling off the factory floor.

Like many things, it began small, optimising first for cockpit space by removing the manual controls. Before long, my then-supervisors thought, "Why have this glass? Why not hook the pilot's eyesight right into the advanced multi-spectral camera system? Before long, cockpits were but soft harnesses made to house a living body, their very soul wired into the machinery. Obviously, for security reasons, I cannot tell you everything about how our latest cockpits work, but suffice to say we've been further blurring the line between pilot and frame ever since.

This drew a very different crowd. Out were the army jocks and powerlifters. The only ones who even dared to have the interface hardware installed into their brainstem and spinal cord were the dispossessed, the misanthropes, those who sought not to control their new body, but to be controlled by it. No AI can work a mech properly on its own, but our pilots are never really in full control either anymore. Those who do try to go against the symbiosis get a nosebleed at best, and vegetative seizures at worst.

And that was that. The only people left who pilots these things are those who had already been broken, those who sougt a permenant reprive from being anything resembling human. A lot of my department quit around this time. I've lost a few friends over it, I'm not shy to say. Did we knew we'd be bringing in the more vulnerable people? Of course we did. But, the wheels of progress must turn, as they say, and it wasn't like we were shy of volunteers.

In our latest models, we have refined an even more advanced frame. Again, security detail prevents me from divulging too much, but one breakthrough we've made is decreasing action latency by approximately 0.02s by amputating the limbs from our pilots and replacing them with neural interface pads.

Using the pads where the limbs once were, pilots are screwed directly into the cockpit, which itself can now be 30% smaller thanks to the saved space. And, of course, we provide basic humanoid cybernetics as part of their employment contract while they are with us. Not that most of them are ever voluntarily out of their cockpits long enough to make use of them. Even removing the tubes from their orifices for routine cleaning incurs a large level of resistence.

And, yes, some of them scream, some of them break, some become so catatonic that they might as well be a peripheral processor for their mech's AI. But not a single one, not even one pilot, in all the dolls i've ever trained, have ever accepted the holidays we offer, the retirement packages, the stipends.

As you say, there are those who like to call me a monster for my work. I can see why. After all, they don't see the way my pilots' crotches dribble when I tell them I'll be cutting away their limbs, or the little moans they try to hide when we first meet and I explain that they'd forever be on the same resource level as a machine hereafter.

Those who call me a monster don't realise that, even after going public with how we operate our pilots, even after ramping up mech frame production, we still have more than twice as many volunteers as frames.

Those who call me a monster cannot accept that my pilots are far happier as a piece of meat in a machine of death than as the shell of a human they once were.

Those who call me a monster never consider the world my pilots grew up in to make them suitable candidates in the first place."

-Dr Francine Heathwich EngD

Dept. Cybernetic Technologies @ Dynaframe Industries

[In response to human rights violations accusations levied by the Pilot Rehabilitation Foundation]

[kookied]

“Have you ever babysat?” | JJK

summary: you ask your cold boss to babysit your son at the last minute not knowing that he doesn’t like kids

category: one-shot

pairing: boss jk x (f) secretary

wc: 2k+

author’s note: reposting some of my old work! new ff’s to come soon!

“have you ever babysat?” you abruptly ask your boss, hoping he’d agree to babysit your son tomorrow while you attended a close friend’s weddings.

he looks at you slightly flustered, not knowing how to respond to that question. he thought that it was somewhat inappropriate that you were asking him that.

“yes… why do you ask that?” his gaze shifts from his computer to you for a second. he watches as your eyes slightly light up.

he has babysat before. but it was only when he had to. when his siblings needed a sitter and his parents weren’t free. he never once willingly offered to babysit his niece or nephew. he wasn’t the type to get along well with children.

“i’m sorry to have to ask you this, but are you free tomorrow?” you lead with the question of availability before asking him a huge favor.

jungkook nods which was good news for you. the timing was so impeccable that it annoyed him a bit. he just broke up with his long-term girlfriend this past monday, leaving him with more free time than he knew what to do with.

“...yes” he hesitantly answers your question.

it just so happened that your parents were on vacation and all your close friends were busy with weddings, school reunions, or they had their own kids to take care of. you didn’t have any siblings so you had completely lucked out on finding a sitter.

so naturally, jungkook was left no choice but to agree to babysitting your son.

“would you be able to babysit my son tomorrow? i have to go to my friend’s wedding tomorrow and i couldn’t find a sitter in time” your hopeful eyes beam at jungkook. he’d hate to see the disappointment in your face if he were to decline your request.

he exhales before agreeing to do you the favor, “sure. what time do i have to be at your house by?”

you sigh in relief, smiling. “thank you. please come by 11:00am tomorrow morning”

“okay, see you tomorrow. you can head home now” jungkook dismisses you for the day and watches as you bow and go back to your desk to grab your stuff and head home.

“i’m screwed” jungkook whispers to himself before exhaling deeply and getting ready to go home.

— SAT, April 15, 2023 ; 11:00am

jungkook stands awkwardly outside your apartment door. he decided to dress down a bit today since he wasn’t going anywhere that required formal attire. he chose to wear a black button down shirt with denim jeans. his hair was styled so that his forehead was exposed.

he clears his throat before the door opens and he sees you all dressed up.

“good morning, sir. come on in” you step aside so that jungkook could walk in. “here you go” you set down a pair of slippers for him to put on.

he takes a step inside, stopping in the entryway to take off his shoes. he eyes explore the living room. your son was sitting on the couch playing a video game.

“siwoo, come here and say hello” you call for your son who happily walks over to your boss and greets him.

“hello, my name is siwoo” the little 5 year old had the same bright eyes that you had.

jungkook bends down and extends his hand for a handshake. siwoo’s small hand grabs jungkook’s and lightly shakes it. siwoo’s cute behavior makes jungkook mindlessly smile.

siwoo runs back to the couch to continue playing his video game while you fill jungkook in on what he has to do with your son for the day.

“siwoo is a good kid. he’ll spend the morning playing his favorite game and then ask for lunch” you show him to the kitchen and open the fridge to see rolled egg omelets, pork cutlets, seaweed soup carefully portioned in small containers. “you can give him these or whatever he wants to eat”

jungkook nods as you show him a small blue pouch in the kitchen drawer next to the sink. “this is for if siwoo gets hurt while playing soccer. he likes to go to the park sometimes and we play soccer together. it’s mostly just kicking the ball back and forth, but he loves it” you laugh and look at jungkook whose expression brightens a little.

“he might not want to go today but just in case” you walk over to the couch to grab your purse. “i’m going to be back after dinner. i left money for dinner on the kitchen counter. siwoo likes fried chicken from the place around the corner so you can order that for him”

you walk over to your son and give him a hug before planting a kiss on his head, “i’ll be back. be good”

jungkook walks with you to the door and watches you put on your heels. “please call me if anything happens. i won’t be back too late”

“don’t worry and have a good time” jungkook waves as you smile and your apartment door closes behind you. now it was just him and siwoo for the whole day.

“what are you playing?” jungkook walks over to siwoo and sits on the couch next to him.

“mario kart” siwoo answers him brightly while concentrating on the tv screen. he grabs the other controller that was on the table and hands it to jungkook, “mister, want to play with me?”

jungkook smiles while looking at the controller. his hand grabs it and he decides to play with siwoo, “sure”

— 12:00pm

“siwoo, are you hungry?” jungkook glances at the little boy sitting next to him and watches the boy nod in response.

“do you want me to make you something?” jungkook offers to cook for siwoo.

“yes, please! can you make black bean noodles?” siwoo’s eyes beam at the thought of having his favorite dish.

“okay. let’s go the grocery store. go put something on, it’s a little chilly out” jungkook coos as siwoo excitedly runs into his room to grab his hoodie.

siwoo runs out to meet jungkook who was straightening out his shoes and siwoo’s sneakers. jungkook helps siwoo put his shoes on before he slips into his loafers.

jungkook offers siwoo to take his hand and the two of them walk out the door together.

“you’re a nice man, mister” siwoo tells jungkook as the two walk to the grocery store, despite only having known him for an hour.

“thanks, siwoo. not a lot of people tell me that” jungkook mumbles just before he and siwoo make eye contact.

“why?”

“well, i don’t talk a lot. so many people think that i’m hard to talk to” jungkook couldn’t believe that he was having this conversation with a five-year old. it was definitely something he didn’t expect.

“oh, you’re shy!” like any other five-year old, siwoo had that innocence. “i have a friend like that in my kindergarten class. she’s really shy so i talk to her a lot. the other kids in my class don’t really talk to her. but she’s really nice”

jungkook smiles while listening to siwoo’s story. he was glad and somewhat thankful that someone didn’t think he was cold for once. “you’re a good friend, siwoo”

siwoo smiles at the compliment that jungkook gave him. “we always share snacks during lunch time and sit together in class. sometimes she comes over and we play video games together”

siwoo then looks up at jungkook with his puppy dog eyes, “do you have a friend who talks to you a lot, mister?”

most of jungkook’s friends haven’t reached out in years and now that he broke up with his girlfriend, he doesn't have anyone close to him to talk to.

his parents and siblings recently moved abroad so he’d only call them once in a while. there was no one close to home that he could spend time with now.

the only person who was almost like a friend was you.

jungkook smiles, looking down at the sidewalk. “i used to. but my friends live far away so i can’t meet them” he lies to siwoo, wanting to spare the boy’s innocence.

“oh…” siwoo pouts, squeezing jungkook’s tightly. “i’ll be your friend, mister!”

jungkook chuckles, “thanks, siwoo”

— 1:30pm

“thank you for lunch! it was really good!” siwoo smiles, putting his pororo fork down on the table.

“you’re welcome. thank you for liking it” jungkook returns the smile and brings the bowls to the sink.

“can we go to the park and play soccer? my mom and i usually go together after lunch” siwoo gets down from the chair and runs over to grab the soccer ball that sat still on the floor next to the bookcase.

“yeah, we can go after i wash the dishes” jungkook rinses the bowls and throws the food waste out in a small used plastic bag. he turns on the water and scrubs the bowls until they were clean.

ten minutes later, jungkook and siwoo head outside again to go to the park.

— 2:10pm

“wow, siwoo. you’re good” jungkook compliments siwoo. for a five year old, he was really good at dribbling. it impressed him.

“thank you. i want to be a soccer player when i grow up” he passes the ball to jungkook.

jungkook was fascinated by siwoo’s ability to dream big. he was so much like you. the little boy had so much ambition, hope and love for the people he cared about.

“then will i see you on tv like all the famous soccer players?” jungkook dribbles the ball before passing it back to siwoo.

siwoo shakes his head excitedly before grabbing the ball with his hands and running up to jungkook. he drops the ball onto the grass and wraps his arms around jungkook’s legs for a hug.

“thank you, mister. i had fun today” siwoo closes his eyes and smiles, tightening his grip.

jungkook softly strokes siwoo’s head, “you’re welcome. i had fun today too. i’ll play with you next time too”

“really?! promise?” siwoo lifts his head to meet jungkook’s eyes with bright eyes.

“i promise” jungkook smiles warmly at the little boy looking up hopefully at him. maybe getting along with children wasn’t so hard after all.

— 8:30pm

jungkook sits on the couch quietly as siwoo’s head rests on his lap. he fell asleep while watching his cartoons after a long day.

the door then beeps open as you take off your shoes. “siwoo, i’m-“ you speak softly but immediately cut yourself off once you see siwoo asleep on your boss’s lap.

“oh, i’m so sorry, sir” you whisper while putting down your purse and rushing over to carry your son into his room.

“it’s okay. i got him” jungkook carries siwoo in his arms and stands up. “where’s his room?”

you point to the room to the right of the bathroom door. jungkook walks over to the bedroom door as you follow behind him.

jungkook carefully lays siwoo down in his bed and you pull the covers over your son’s chest.

“how was the wedding?” jungkook asks with a whisper as you two walk out of siwoo’s room.

“good. it was nice to see my friends after a while” you say with a sigh, “how was siwoo today? thank you for babysitting him”

“he was good. we had fun. i don’t usually babysit children since i don’t really get along with them” jungkook pauses before continuing his thought, “but it was really easy to talk to siwoo. he said he’d be my friend and talk to me a lot”

you didn’t know that he didn’t like kids. asking him to babysit your son made you feel bad, “oh… i’m sorry for asking you to babysit. i didn’t know that”

“it’s okay. i did it because you asked me. i know you work hard to support siwoo. if you need me to babysit him again, i will” jungkook looks at you with a warm expression for the first time.

“thank you. you should get going, it’s late”

jungkook nods and walks over to the entryway to put on his shoes. “good night, y/n” he smiles slightly at you before leaving.

“good night, sir” you say goodbye to him as he walks out of your apartment.

© 2024 gguqies

[qin-qin16]

My computer is possessed?! Oh, wait, it's just my out-coded skeleton boyfriend!

Summary: When some of your work in progress goes missing, you decide to start investigating whether your computer has a virus. That is until you realize that the few remaining works are of one character: Error Sans. cw: comedy, kinitoPET and creepypasta vibes, Error is an asshole and Reader is stressed, gn!reader, dark jokes about suicide, but nothing serious, we have a bit of jealousy Error, writer Reader…  note: I finally wrote down this idea from weeks ago lol and the divider is from @sister-lucifer (Part one) (Part two)

You would never forgive yourself.

Five hours of work. Five. And it all vanished with a simple power outage. The entire neighborhood was in the dark for hours — and when the power finally came back, everyone heard the lengthy stream of insults and curses you hurled at yourself when your computer screen went blank; there were no files saved in the cloud and no trace of everything you had written.

Your body glides over the wheeled chair as you slowly spin in circles, “Eu quero me matar…” You murmur, without any genuine or serious inflection in your words, even though deep down in your mind, there’s a certain desire to end the emptiness that lingers from your anger.

“Three pages… three damn pages…” You run your hand over your face, resting it on your mouth as you feel your eyes sting from the static white of the computer screen. “I can’t believe it.” You finish, still in disbelief over the unexpected blackout.

You know that old saying, “I’ll believe it when I see it”? Well, the problem was right in front of you: a completely empty Word document, except for a few notes saved before everything was lost. Still, you couldn’t bring yourself to believe what you were seeing.

“I’m not going to write all that again! I can’t even remember the last thing I wrote!” you rant to no one but the lifeless machine in front of you, running both hands through your hair and tangling it with unnecessary force — leaving only irritation in certain spots on your scalp and strands of hair sticking out in every direction.

Settling into the chair — legs crossed and leaning forward like a shrimp — you start closing all the tabs left open on the computer, not caring at all about what’s saved or not. All you want to do right now is shut off that old piece of junk (that can't even handle an internet outage) and go grab something to eat. Maybe that would help you relax and distract yourself from this mess.

However, the large ERROR 505 flashing on the screen interrupted your ongoing stream of frustration. 

The damn title, accompanied by a series of codes that made no sense to you, was plastered on the last tab of your browser, just waiting to be closed. But even after you clicked the little red box three times — eager to shut the window as quickly as possible — the page stayed open. 

It felt almost as if it were mocking you. Almost…

“Perfect! Just what I needed!” You don’t hesitate to slap the monitor, taking out all your anger on the old machine. “Now even the damn Google isn’t working!” Your grunt is muffled as you bury your face in your hands, holding back the scream that desperately wants to burst from your throat.

“God, if you exist, why are you punishing me like this?” Your murmurs are heard only by the computer as it continues to mock your suffering with the bright white screen — and that damn ERROR 505 displayed at your face.

“Know what? Screw it, I don’t care.” With your hands thrown up in defeat, you finally surrender, tired and out of patience to battle this cursed error.

This is worse than when the Ao3 is down—no, I can't exaggerate like that, you think to yourself as you crouch in your chair searching for the charger’s plug. If this page won’t close on its own, then it’ll have to be forced; nothing beats unplugging the old computer directly from the outlet.

Which turned out to be a challenging task, not only because of your awkward and uncomfortable position in the wheeled chair, but also due to the mess of wires and cables under your desk. You didn’t even know which one belonged to your computer, let alone where the outlet was.

“Maybe it’s best to just yank everything and hope the outlet comes with it.” You go back to your original position, stretching your spine and letting out a quiet grunt as a pop resonates from your back. “I need to stop spending hours sitting in front of the computer.” Your grumble is nothing more than a hollow promise, unlike your spine, which was definitely promising to develop some kind of scoliosis.

“Okay, here we go— what the hell is this?” you exclaim, and even though your voice lacks any emotion — probably exhausted from all the shouting earlier — your jaw drops, matching the widening of your eyes as you see that the once flashy ERROR 505 screen has now changed to a completely different tab.

What had once been a white background filled with bold text was suddenly replaced by your Tumblr homepage... featuring countless fan arts of Error Sans scattered throughout your feed.

It wasn’t unusual for you to search for fan art and fanfics about him; in fact, the number of tags you followed with his name was far too many to count on both hands!

However, today was not one of those days. In fact, you had been trying to set aside your obsession with the glitchy skeleton to focus on other Sanses. Those three pages you lost forever were actually part of a fanfic about Cross x Reader that you had been working on for a few days.

So… why did the page load with this theme that you had been ignoring?

It doesn’t matter, I’ll just close this tab and—oh my God, what a gorgeous fan art! You quickly get distracted by the artwork on your screen, and without hesitation, your finger starts clicking rapidly on the mouse, liking and reblogging as fast as you can.

You must have been very tired not to notice the muffled sound coming from your computer — different from the noises it made when starting up or running a virus scan. No, no, this sounded oddly like a stilted laugh, as if the audio had been chopped into pieces.

But why would you pay attention to that? Computers couldn’t laugh, especially not at your half-closed eyes and the sentences you’d written incorrectly because you were sleepy…

Right?

Tagging the people who wanted to see a fanfic of this:

@snastheskeleton64, @moonpieandfries12345, @lostsoulsofdragon, @mrcatmario, @something-random1-1-blog, @joonebugg, @crunchontoast, @honeybubbletea33, @what-have-i-unleashed, @leafwateraddict, @sweethoneybear, @sleepy-batz

If you want to be tagged in part two, please let me know :D

[lianadelune]

pairing: alastor x reader

author's notes: i wrote this fic a loong time ago and it was supposed to be a series but then my hyperfixation with hazbin hotel faded and other stuffs happened (*cof* *cof* college *cof* *cof*) so since i had fun writing it, and i started to watch hazbin hotel again and my hyperfixation is coming back i decided to post it and if pleople like it i might continue <3

p.s: i'm still writiing my logan howlett/phantom of the opera au hopefully i will post it soon <3

this wasn’t the first time that you felt you were being watched.

everything started when you left your parent’s house after college to have a fresh start in your life with a job in new orleans, the city where your grandma grew up, she was more than happy to let you stay at the house from her childhood, since no one lived there in a long time and she felt that a new generation was just what the house needed.

your first day at the new/old house went as well as one would expect, since most of the furniture was already in the house in some-what good conditions the only thing you took was your clothes, books and electronics.

that’s when everything started, on that first night at the house.

it was almost 4 am and you still were in your bed finishing some work for that day, when you saw the fist shadow, at first you thought it was your tiredness, you were awake looking at the computer screen for the past 5 hours trying to finish an important project, so you rubbed your eyes beneath the glasses, got more comfortable in the bed and continued your work.

but this time it wasn’t a shadow you saw, looking at you from the other side of the room was a man, he had deer ears on top of his head next to his antlers, he was wearing a red coat ragged along the bottom hem and long black dress pants, but the thing that stuck to you the most was his smile like a cheshire cat and black eyes with pupils shaped like radio dials.

with the blink of an eye tentacled emerged behind his back and grabbed both of your legs and arms beneath the blanket on top of your pressing your body in the bed until it hurted, you tries to fight back but the only thing you managed to accomplish was to drop your glasses on the floor breaking them, but you still could see him slowly walking towards you each step making him glitch in the reality until he was on top of you, you shut your eyes closed praying to whatever god that could hear you to help.

“ah, ah, ah!” the thing said, you could feel his hot breath on your cheek “i want you to look at me, my dear, i want to look at your eyes when i tell you that no matter the god you are praying he won’t be coming to help”

you opened one of your eyes, scared of what he may do if you didn’t comply.

“i want to look at your eyes and tell you that there’s no way of getting rid of me, darling, i have been interested in you since you crossed that door this morning, your blood smells so sweet i can’t wait to eat you up!”

you felt the dark tentacled slowly letting your arms and legs go free, you tried to get away from the man but he started to emit static noise that got more and more distorted until you had to put your hand on your ears to muffle the noise until…

you woke up.

you still had your computer on your lap, you were still beneath the covers and your glasses were on your face in one piece.

taking deep breaths to calm your racing heart, telling yourself that it was only a nightmare and you were safe.

but when you turned your laptop off and turned around to try and get some actual sleep, you missed the shadow on your door silently watching you.

“i knew we shouldn’t have let him do this by himself” husk said, opening a bottle of whiskey

“what do you mean?” alastor asked, his smile widening “i even said ‘i want to eat you up’ that’s the most romantic thing in the world!”

“we’re screwed!” angel dust groaned from the other side of the room “freaky face doesn’t even know what ‘romance’ means! i bet he can’t make her fall in love with him until the deadline, the next extermination is just in a couple of months! you guys should have let me do it!”

“you know that’s not the deal with the angels” charlie said while vaggie patted her in the back “besides i know alastor is doing his best!”

everyone in the room rolled their eyes, they knew that the radio demon wouldn’t do a favor like that if he had nothing to gain from it, so far it looked like he wanted it all to fail spectacularly.

“charlie!” charlie’s father lucifer came running downstairs with something on his hand “i have a new letter from heaven”

“well since my job from the day seems to be over i will be going have some dinner” alastor interrupted the king of hell and walked towards his room.

“i wouldn’t do that if i were you” lucifer stepped in front of him “it has your name in it and for what i understand you will want to read this"

taken aback from the serious tone in lucifer’s voice alastor stopped in his tracks and snatched the letter from the hand of the blond man in front of him.

with a sigh the deer man sat in the stool at the bar while everyone tried to take a look behind his back at the letter but failing miserably.

alastor tried to read the letter with a calm demeanor but each line made his eyebrows furrow and his jaw tightened.

[akxmee]

𝗜 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗟𝗜𝗘𝗦, 𝗜'𝗟𝗟 𝗘𝗔𝗧 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗠 𝗨𝗣. //𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎.

choso x stalker!reader

She was obsessed with her cute neighbour, so she always made excuses to enter his house. He knew it, and still let her in.

14k words.

Tw: creepy things stalkers do, mentions of locking people in, obsession. There's no +18 scenes, only a few heated kisses.

'Choso Kamo.'

That's the name of one of your computer's documents. It was the last among the rest of the files, locked with a password and completely secured.

Why, you may ask?

Well, let's put it like this. Everyone has a favorite thing, don't they? Kids have a favorite ice cream flavour, teenagers have a favorite TV show they always watch no matter what, adults have their favorite company to make deals with... Well, you had a favorite too. It was Choso Kamo, your adorable neighbour who moved in next to your house not so long ago.

He was your favorite person, your favorite hobby.

Collecting photos of him was something creepy and you felt bad for it at first, but he looked so cute playing with his cats in them that you started to enjoy having little albums in your carpet about him. You even dedicated a whole schedule to the man; writing down when he worked out, whenever he ate, when he started drawing as he usually did thrice a week..he was just so perfect, so made for you.

Yeah. If god exists, he made Choso just for you.

Fate has intertwined you two the moment he became your neighbour, you were so sure of that. Not only was he totally your type, you guys had a lot in common!

You two liked cats, you liked the same bands, you both liked the same food, enjoyed the same shows, read the same genres when it came to books..you even started to like crafting too when you first saw him working on something at his garden! Yes, the look on his eyes as he sawed the wood, the sweat on his forehead falling as he drove the screws and the exhausted breaths he left as he carried those heavy pieces into his house drove you head over heels, so now you like crafting too! Not because of the hobby itself, but because choso looked so good doing it that you may aswell like the days he crafts something.

Besides, it was tha reason you were working right now. A lemonade with a refreshing effect, that's what you were making for your hardworking neighbour. You added the perfect amount of ice that you knew he loved, pouring the liquid in a cute vase and heading to his home to pay him another visit.

Yeah, another visit.

You visited his house frequently, always having a excuse to do so. And somehow, he was kind enough to always let you enter! Now you both were in "friendly neighbour terms", but you wished to get even closer. Because you could pat his shoulder, but you wanted to hold his hand and because you could talk to him, but you craved to kiss him. Everything you desired was proximity, closeness, being able to call him withouth making any dumb excuse.

But that was something that required patience and insistence, just how you were being right now.

—Y/N? Is something the matter?

Ah, that sound got you out of your trance. You looked up, finding choso who just opened the door. He looked so damn good, and you melted just by the way his tired eyes focused on your figure.

—Not really. I could hear the saw from my house, so..

He scratched the back of his neck, giving you an apologetic smile.

—I figured you did, sorry. I'm crafting some furniture for my house.

You shook your head.

—No, no! It's okay, I understand. I knocked just to give you this, you looked...—Your eyes analyzed him, fighting the urge to drop any compliment. —..exhausted, and i thought you would enjoy this.

The black haired man looked at your hands only to see you offering him the vase of lemonade. He raised his eyebrows, his lips curved in what almost seemed like a cute smile for a second. He grabbed the vase you gave him.

—That's so thoughtful of you, thanks.

He smiled, you nodded.

—Want to come in so i can give you a drink in return?

That's what you were waiting for.

Choso was always so kind, letting you enter his house for food or games whenever you did something for him. That's his way of payment, since you knew he had issues with money and couldn't afford to pay you whenever you helped him change his lights, shelves or doors (he never asked for your help, however you somehow casually just happened to pass by whenever he was struggling with something like that). You always reassured him that it was fine, but he still insisted on having you over for dinner or lunch.

You smiled.

—Yeah, that would be nice.

He let you in, and you sat on his sofá while he brought something for you to drink. Minutes later he came, sat down next to you and gave you a cup of tea.

—Not as refreshing as the lemonade, but I promise it's good.

He handed it to you and you thanked him as a result. You gave it a sip and a surprised expression appeared on your face. He noticed that and asked:

—Is something wrong with the tea?

You instantly shook your head, resting the cup on your lap.

—Nothing at all! It's just, this is my favorite tea.

—It is? It's my favorite tea too.

He laughed at your reaction, as you smiled sweetly at him. To him, you were a cute girl he had for a neighbour that he could rely on when he needed help with his home or ask for help when it came to baking something for his little brother whenever he would visit and also a great companion he liked to have around since you were sweet and fun, but that's just his impression of you. He didn't know you were as awful as he was when it came to baking but mastered it just for him, he didn't know you found boring changing lightbulbs and only found fun the time spent with him and neither was he aware of the fact that you weren't giggling because you thought he was funny, but because you were so excited about having another thing in common with him.

The evening went great, you both laughed and updated eachother with gossip from your neighbourhood. You were making progress day by day, and you could feel It by the way he seemed more and more casual as the visits kept happening. He was growing more comfortable with you, and you were loving it! Choso talked to you about his brother Yuji, about how life working as an artist was and even showed you some photos —which you already saw, but now that he was the one showing them to you they looked even prettier—, he also asked about how to make Apple pies and more.

But that's not one of the main of reasons you came here for.

—Hey, Choso?

He hummed, taking a sip of his lemonade.

—Could I use the bathroom?

He looked at you, then pointed at the hall.

—The last door, the one on the right wall.

You already knew that, but thanked him anyways and went on your way there. You counted the Doors: one, two..then the third one. That's the one you're looking for.

Not because it was the bathroom, no.

Because it was his bedroom.

You entered the room, checking every corner you never saw through the window. He had a small computer on the desk, a few clothes on the floor, school items scattered all over the sheets of the bed such as a few pencils, notes, papers and more to be seen. Looking at the walls, you found several posters and pictures he made along with photos of him and his family: most of them were with yuji, his little brother, at places like a lake, his first day of kindergarten, at a sleepover...you found yourself smiling because of that, he was just so perfect. You had to capture this place, the place that held the most of his personality out of this home. Just a picture, only to visualize what kind of things he likes or what kind of furniture he's more fond of. You just needed a picture, something to have as a reference to analyze him, and it was as simple as clicking a single button of the mini polaroid you carried in your purse. However, as your hand reached for your purse to grab it...

—I think you're at the wrong bathroom, aren't you?

You froze.

Right behind you was Choso, the owner of the voice, leaning on the frame of the door while looking at you waiting for an answer. You weren't even facing him and you could already feel the grin on his face while he talked to you. Did he find out? Did he know the reason you entered his room? A lot of questions ran through your mind in a span of seconds. You tried to keep calm telling yourself things such as "no, how could he ever know? He wouldn't have let me in if he did" or "it's imposible for him to know I had a camera, since I didn't even get to grab it" and eventually, you had the courage to turn around to make visual contact with him and make up a lie.

—I'm sorry, got distracted in the way.

He kept quiet, letting you continue talking since he was not satisfied with your answer. You turn your gaze to the walls of the room, finding a lot of artpieces he made. You looked at him again, pointing at them with your eyes to let him know what you were going to refer to.

—I just wanted to see them up close. You showed me through photos, but i never thought they would be so...detailed. It's truly beautiful.

He seemed to be taken back by your answer.

—You think so?

—I really do. You're a great artist, Choso.

The black haired male looked like he bought your excuse. He looked actually touched by your lie and you obviously knew why; that's why you chose to lie with it in the first place. Choso was never validated as an artist, being always told that he could do so much better if he studied something like economy or science. Nobody really complimented his art withouth mentioning how it, as good as it is, should be kept as a hobby instead of dedicating his whole life to it because it just wouldn't really make a lot of money. He knew that, but still chose that life ignoring people's words. However, sometimes it was imposible to ignore it and he somehow became insecure when people gave his art compliments, since he didn't really know if they meant them or if they think the same as the rest.

And that's exactly what you knew that he was thinking right now.

—You're not going to say anything else?

He expected you to throw your advice now. He was expecting you to say something among the lines of "it's beautiful, but I personally wouldn't dedicate my whole career to it", waiting for something hurtful like it always happens. He waited and waited, and you finally talked.

—Yeah, I do.

He mentally sighed. Oh, he was a fool for believing that you could be different just because you were his friend. Choso ran a hand through his hair, messing up his bangs a little.

However, you proved him wrong.

—Since you draw so good, could you teach me one day? I really need it for this project at school, so i thought that maybe you...

You kept talking, but he stopped hearing whatever you were saying. Choso's expression suddenly stiffened, he gulped and his jaw tensed as you kept going on something he lost a few seconds ago. His eyes lit up with a complete different light, and he took a few steps towards you.

Noticing his silence and the way he walked to you, you grew worried. You did know that this was a sensible topic for him and already planned how his reaction would be, but this was not what you expected as he looked so intimidating while he slowly made his way towards you.

—I'm sorry, did I talk too much? Didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, you don't have to actually say yes.

He grabbed you by the shoulders with such force you did not expect from him. Fuck, you messed up didn't you?

By the way he was looking at you, yes the hell you did.

That's the least you ever wanted, honestly. Choso hating you for touching some personal topic was the worst thing that could happen to you. You just complimented him, so why? He was frowing, his muscles tense, his body language indicated that he was nervous and his expression showed he was deep in thought. You wondered how did you even manage to get him like that, to get him to shift his personality like that. One minute he was touched by your words, now he was looking at you like you were something new to his eyes.

And you were, he just wasn't showing it how he should've.

Why? Because he never received this type of trait from someone. Something as simple as that, he never experienced it even though he craved for it for so long.

—What are you doing?

He asks you, his tone demanding for an answer.

—What?

You answer, and there's seconds of plain silence until he talks again.

—To me.

That tone.

That soft tone and cracked voice as he whispered with such tenderness, urging you for an answer desperately.

Now you understood, looking up at him and figuring out his expression. His grip on you was not because he was angry, but because he didn't want you to run away from his question. His frown was not because he was angry at you, but because he was trying to figure himself out. His shaky hands and body language was not screaming at you to stop talking, but to keep doing so.

You finally broke him down.

It took you months worth of visits, weeks and weeks of effort to make this man finally see in you what you see in him. You relaxed.

—You finally see it, don't you?

Your hand traced his jawline softly, watching him close his eyes as he leans into your touch like a puppy. This was all you ever wished, to have him like this. If you knew it only took a few compliments, some deep talks about life the nights after you help him fix his garden and making him some food from time to time to make him finally look at you like this, you would have done it sooner. But once again patience is key, so you don't complain now that he opens his eyes and adverts his gaze towards you in such a delicate way.

—I do.

You grin.

—That's good.. that's good. How about you and I, having dinner at a restaurant tonight? Let's get to know eachother.

He hesitates at first but then nods, according to your words.

—Sounds like a good plan.

You already know everything about him, but the idea of having a date seemed so casual and so cute you couldn't help but cheer internally. How would it be? Would he dress and look handsome for tonight? Would you two share your first kiss then? Would he lend you his jacked if it's cold? God, you were so excited! He was just the perfect man, choso had everything you ever wanted and that's all that mattered. It's okay if it rains, choso will cover you from the water. Doesn't matter if your heels tire you, choso will carry you home. It's also okay if you don't like the food at the restaurant, choso will surely share his with you. He actually will, because you know everything about him when it comes to a relationship too. It only took creating a fake account and pretending to be some random girl to ask his exes how he was in a relationship. You had to be informed of what you would be getting into, of course!

They all agreed that the man in front of you was a true romantic, detail-oriented and above all very observant of his partner. Aside from that, the complaints that caused them to break up were each one different from the other. However, when it came to complaints or the reason they broke up, each was different so you didn't have anything to base yourself on.

But oh, you were rushing things again weren't you? You two didn't even have a first date, and you were already thinking about how you would be as a couple! You'll see when the time comes.

—Then, I'll leave and you come pick me up at 9. I'll look pretty for you, so look handsome for me.

He looked at you with certain surprise.

—You'll leave?

—Well, yes. You don't want me to look like this at the date, no?

You signaled to yourself, making him look at your simple dress and face with a casual makeup. You wished to look pretty and have an elaborated makeup to your date, and he seemed to catch up. Choso shook his head.

—That's what I thought. I'll see you at nine, then?

—Yeah.

Yet, his grip on your shoulders didn't cease. You gave him a few seconds to let you go, but he didn't.

—Choso?

He looked to the side, and a slight blush could be seen on his cheeks.

—I'm sorry, you don't have to do it if you're uncomfortable but..can I at least get a goodbye?

Oh, oh.

You were speechless for a second, did he just ask for you to kiss him that politely? Then you chuckled, making him look at you with an embarrassed expression. His grip on you disappeared, and he covered half of his face with his hand for you not to see the shame in his face.

—Nevermind, i'm taking things too far. I'll see you at nine.

He didn't even have the chance to run away from the situation when you grabbed the collar of his sweater and gently pulled on it to get him closer, giving him a little peck on the lips. Choso was the one to quickly pull away in surprise, but soon he realized what just happened and leaned back again for another one since he wasn't satisfied with that little taste. He grabbed cupped your cheek with one hand while his lips collided with yours in a way that you weren't even upset your first kiss isn't at the date. The feeling was almost as if they were giving you something that you have been longing for for a long time, something that you have only had the pleasure of imagining becomes a reality.

Then you pulled away, in need of air.

—That's enough for a goodbye, isn't it?

He looked at you in silence, panting as he catched his breath. Soon after, his lips were on yours again with more intensity than before, dancing a tango of emotions where the music increased with each gasp of air. Eventually his hand found the back of your neck to deepen the kiss, and his tongue explored your mouth with a lot of ease. He seemed to have a lot of experience, while you were left trying to catch up on his rythm.

—Not enough. Five more minutes and you go, please.

He pleaded when you separated before kissing you again. You didn't even have time to say yes, but the way you reciprocated the kiss told him more than enough. Soon enough his other hand found your waist and guided you out of the room, through the hall. His bedroom had this huge window —which you were really thankful for, by the way. It always gave you such a good view of him when you were looking at him through your window—, and he didn't want anyone looking at you two since it was an easy thing to do, so he guided you through the hall to another room between heated kisses with your fingers tangled in his hair. You ended up with your back against the wall while Choso took some keys out of his pocket, opening the door while leaving a trail of light kisses on your neck.

It wasn't strange for him to have a key to a room, since it was a normal thing for people in your neighbourhood to do so since burglasses were quite common so they kept valuable things safe in a room. You guessed he was taking you there since it was a more private area, but you found yourself with a room. Not enough time was left for you when you were thrown on a bed, having choso on top of you while pinning one of your wrists above you. You looked at him, who stared back at you intensely.

—Choso, five minutes already passed..

The man looked at you for a few seconds more, like he was admiring you. He looked absolutely breathtaking, His hair was messy, his eyes half open, his breathing altered, and his lips stained with the lipstick you were wearing. You dreamed so many times of this moment, yet you also wished for the date to happen so you couldn't entertain this more.

—I'm sorry, I just can't help It.

He kisses you once again. A soft tender kiss is left in your lips.

—Now that I have you, i can't let you go.

Once again. This kiss seemed to have more emotion than the rest, and it felt like he was devouring you.

—I can't let you go.

And again. Now, the kiss feels desperate and feral, he was kissing you again and again as if he was an animal.

—I can't. You can't go.

You were getting worried about what he was saying, but when you tried to get your wrist out of his hand a metalic sound was heard. You pulled.

CLANK.

You tried to pull again.

CLANK.

—Choso?

You asked, confused.

His hands left your wrist, and then you saw.

You were chained up to the bed.

He got up from the bed, and you tried to do too. However, you failed and almost fell off the bed due to the force of the pull that the metal gave you in reaction to your quick attempt of getting on your feet. He stopped you from falling, sitting you on the bed once again.

—Shh.. it's okay, don't freak out.

—What do you mean don't freak out? Is this some time of kinky roleplay?!

You tried to pull on the chain with your free hand, but it was no use. He scratched the back of his neck nervous, making a face of disappointment.

—Yeah, I figured you wouldn't like this place at first but don't worry, you'll like it eventually. It's pretty, isn't it? Look.

He grabbed your face and forced you to look around, and you found the least thing you could ever expect from this man. How could you not notice this when you entered? There were pictures of you all over the walls, a map of the city and different dots connected on a cardboard. A lot of your pictures were also on a desk, alongside with little hearts drawn of them. There was a part of one of the walls that was completely covered in drawings of your face in different angles, of your body and you doing some of your hobbies. Anyone that looked at it would easily think you were his muse. A computer was opened on the desk that had different recordings of the outsides of your house, and you were sure all of those pendrives scattered near were just about the same thing.

—It looks creepy now, but I'll eventually clean it. You know, you weren't supposed to come here today..—He, still grabbing your face, made you look at him by raising your chin with the intention that you maintain eye contact with him.—I was still making cute furniture for you to enjoy this place..but then i saw it. I saw what you tried to do.

His free hand reached his pocket, taking out your mini polaroid that was supposed to be in your purse. When did he take it? Fuck, it probably was while you two were kissing.

—I saw that you, deep inside, were just as sick as I am. And i couldn't resist it.

Your jaw tensed, but you still talked.

—Why?

He grinned, and his voice came out in a whisper.

—Because i have been waiting for so, so long.

He smiled at your innocence. Did you really think you were being sly with that dirty, little secret of yours? No, Choso had his eye on you for longer than you did. He saw you at work once, then he grew obsessed with you even if you never noticed him. Seeing you at work was not enough, so he eventually bought a House next to yours as if fate wanted him to get closer to you, and noted how to catch your attention. He changed his whole personality into some shy, cute and fun but still serious with black cat aesthetic boy just because he knew it was your type, and even went as far as creating profiles on social media acting like his exs whenever you, with another account he managed to find, asked about how he was in a relationship. That account was simply "asking for a friend", but he knew better than that. He lied to you, telling you just what you wanted to hear about a perfect boy in a relationship and stupid reasons of the breakup each different from another so you wouldn't think he had any specific red flag.

God, you were so adorable that he could lock you up forever.

Except for the fact that he already was.

—No, you're another whole level of sick. You were so normal, we had a lot of things in common..

—But we do! Y/N, look at me.—he brushed a strand of hair off your face, smiling softly.—We have things in common. We're both so in love with eachother, it's okay..

—No, Choso. You were meant for me..

His smile faded.

—I still am.

—No you're not. You were fake.

You were conflicted. You were sick in the head, but he was just another whole level. While you were happy with having him by your side, keeping photos of him and observing the man, he was locking you in. You had absolutely no right to complain, because you were just a little bit less bad than he was even though you were still guilty.

You tried to fool him, and you ended up being fooled.

—You're in denial, Y/N. Everything I am now I will forever be if you like it, I built myself just for you!

He was growing more demanding by minute, his grip on your face increased and you couldn't open your mouth to reply.

—You liked cats, I like cats too. You like some bands? well guess what, i like them too! You like that damn tea?! I like it too even though it tastes like shit!

He kept screaming, trying to reason with you.

You bit your lip and slipped out of his grasp. He seemed upset at that, but eventually decided to let you be.

You were still too in shock to understand what he did for you, weren't you?

—Fine, do whatever you want..—He moved away from you, leaving you there still chained to the bed. —It's not like you'll be going anywhere soon.

He scoffed, and you felt such a rush of emotions going on at the same time. Every feeling that you may have accumulated towards him during all these months disappeared from your heart as if they were pieces of a puzzle. Each moment you grew excited because you were just about to visit him, each photo you took of him and hung on the wall while you daydreamed of the day you could take one together with him, each moment you replayed in your head every conversation with him again and again before going to sleep...it all vanished. The love you felt slowly turned into a darker feeling that extinguished it until it turned into a kind of repulsion, disgust. You knew that the day will come when you your karma will come for you for having gotten into such dangerous terrain, but you didn't expect it to be this way.

Specially for it to be this man.

The man you idealized so much, the man you thought to be so perfect.

The man you claimed to have so many things in common with.

Well, now you knew for sure.

You did have a lot in common with Choso Kamo.

Author's note: not my favorite fanfic, honestly. It's not edited since it's 2am and i don't wanna re-read, so tell me if you find any mistakes! By the way, new chapter of "dogs and Cats café" will be out next week when i'm finally done with my final exams.

Hope you liked this, I'll be reading your comments 💕

[miryum]

"Unsolvable"

Summary: Detective!Jason Todd x detective!Reader based on Jake and Amy’s relationship

Series Warnings: Swearing, descriptions of violence (but nothing descriptive), guns and other police stuff

Series Masterlist

Captain Wayne didn’t dare go near Detective L/n’s desk. The woman poured over a thick binder, a pencil shoved in her hair and a pen between her teeth. Her computer had more than a dozen tabs open and every person in the precinct gave her a wide berth. 

Wayne only wished that Y/n put as much effort into her detective work as she did her wedding planning. Jason was the only one who dared to approach her. “Sweetheart,” he broke her out of her reverie. “Why don’t we find something else for you to do? I'll handle the wedding stuff.”

Y/n’s hair was messier than normal and when she turned to look at Jason, his brows lifted at the bloodshot look in her eyes. “Are you sure?” she asked. “It's a lot to get done. And it needs to be done today.”

“Absolutely,” Jason promised. “Why don’t you work on a fun case, hmm?” he suggested, like it was a trivial tea party and not professional detective work. 

So, ten minutes later, Y/n slammed a case file down on Tim’s desk. “Good news, detective. I figured out what we're gonna work on to keep my mind off of my wedding.”

“I thought you were going to work on your wedding,” Tim countered, looking up from his screen where he was playing the New York Times Connections.

Y/n shifted her weight and had the decency to look a little sheepish. “No. Jason thought it was best for me to take a break.” It was then that she tapped the thick case file on Tim’s desk. “I found a cold case of ours that everyone foolishly said was unsolvable. Case 1652-EJCBX-718.”

Tim exhaled and sat back in his seat. “Y/n,” he said, “case 1652-EJCBX-718 is unsolvable.”

“Or maybe case 1652-EJCBX-718 is waiting for someone to de-unsolve it,” Y/n offered her optimistic view on it.

Cass, who was walking by, couldn’t help but ask, “what's case 1652-EJCBX-718?”

“Case 1651-EJ…” Y/n trailed off and then said, “we gotta find a way to abbreviate this thing. Anyway, it's an old case that Timmy and I worked on about six years ago.”

“This guy Nate Dexter was murdered in a boat explosion. No witnesses, no leads, minimal evidence. This case almost killed us,” Tim added, looking at Y/n skeptically.

“Yeah, but I'm on a hot streak!” Y/n whined, leaving out the fact that the last case she had worked on was three weeks ago because she had begun wedding prep. “Plus we're better detectives now. We're smarter, computers are faster, and what about drones?” She fantasised, hands exaggerating her thoughts with movement. She then saw Tim push his chair out and she gasped, “oh, he's standing up!”

The detective admitted, “I have always wanted to solve that case.”

Y/n exclaimed, “then think about how good it would feel to finally do it. What's the best moment of your life?”

“The day I graduated from the police academy,” Tim said instantly. “Either that or the day I met Barnard.”

Y/n scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Compared to this, those memories will be garbage.”

“You don't know what you're saying,” Tim deadpanned, glaring at her.

“Screw you,” Y/n shot back weakly. She blew off his protests and dragged her friend into the briefing room. “Okay, here's what we know. Nate Dexter was a small-time crook who pissed someone off. They blew up his boat, with him still on it, and left no evidence except this one charred finger and Nate's melted torso.”

Tim shook his head, eyebrows raising. “Man, I'm having deja vu right now,” he muttered.

Six years back, the pair stood in the exact same briefing room. Tim was wearing his full gear, as if needing to prove to everyone that he belonged. He was considerably skinnier than present day and was trying to grow out a wisp of a moustache. His glasses sat crooked on his nose. Y/n, on the other hand, had slightly longer hair tied up into a tight bun, but there were less laugh lines around the crinkles of her eyes. Jason had yet to join the precinct. The young detective was looking at an old, blocky Macbook. “Whoever did it left no evidence except this one charred finger and Nate's melted torso,” she said, looking at Tim with wide, excited eyes.

“So in other words nothing's changed,” Tim deduced.

“Except our attitudes,” Y/n corrected. “So! We start at the last place that Dexter was seen before he went to the marina: his apartment. I'm telling you, dude, I got a good feeling about this,” she announced.

A while later, the pair stood outside an ongoing construction site. A bulldozer rumbled past slowly. “Well, it appears his building was torn down.” Y/n pressed her lips together, hands on her hips. She turned to Tim and said, “I know this seems like bad news, but on the plus side: the harder the solve, the sweeter the solve.”

“No, it's just bad news,” Tim said bluntly, staring at the construction site.

“You're bad news,” Y/n grumbled out, glaring at her coworker.

“What?” Tim called out, having not heard her due to the loud beeping the bulldozer was emitting as it slowly backed up.

“What?” Y/n repeated, feigning innocence. “Just saying you're bad news for bad guys, 'cause you're a number-one cop!” she shouted over the noise. With a dramatic wave of her hand, she exclaimed, “let's solve the case!”

Back at the precinct, Jason nervously approached Dick’s desk. “Hey, Sarge.” He cleared his throat, even though Dick was already aware of his presence, and asked, “how would you like to spend your half-day-off with me doing an endless list of wedding tasks?” After a moment of silence where Dick turned to his detective and gave him a tense look, Jason added, “I can see from your eyes you're excited.”

“No way,” Dick said plainly. “Kori and the girls are going on a playdate all day and I'm going to see a movie for grown-ups all by myself. No talking animals, no predictable plot, and tons of cuss words.”

“I know cuss words,” Jason supplied, shrugging. Even though he was taller and bulkier than the sergeant, he still looked like a younger brother asking his older brother for help. “Come with me and I'll cuss at you all day long, you big piece of fucking horseshit.” 

“Yeah, that sounds fun, but I'm gonna stick with the movie.”

Jason sighed and begged, “please don't do that. I promised Y/n I could get everything done, and I can't. I have one hundred and twelve tasks to get through in the next thirteen hours and I set a recurring alarm so I know how fast I should be moving. I'm already three tasks behind and the alarms keep piling up.” He swallowed and put his hands in his pockets. “It's kind of making me stressed out,” Jason admitted. “Y/n means the world to me and I don’t want to break a promise before our marriage has even started. She’s been working her adorable ass off and I feel like I haven't been doing enough. I mean, I don’t really care about the wedding – as long as I get to call her my wife, I don’t care where it is or what it looks like. But it means a lot to her. Please help me, Sarge,” he finished, levelling Dick with a knowing and pleading look. He could see Dick’s resolve wavering and decided to finish off with some nice flattery. “Come on, you're, like, the best husband ever. You’re like if… Mr. Darcy came to life.”

“Wasn’t he kind of an asshole?” 

“Semantics.”

After a moment, Dick admitted, “My husband game is flawless.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Okay, I'm in. But you owe me,” he added as Jason grinned.

“Anything you want,” the man promised. “Thank you, Grayson.”

Y/n and Tim were at the jail where the friends of Nate Dexter were locked up. Even if Dexter used to be friends with numerous criminals, the two detectives were still trying to solve his murder. The guard gestured to where a small clump of people sat in the exercise yard. “That's all of 'em,” the guard said in a thick Jersey accent.

Y/n’s brows furrowed as she counted each man. “What? What about…” she flipped through the case file she was holding. “Frank Williams?”

“He's in the infirmary,” the guard said. “He was beat up pretty good, a lot of internal bleeding.”

“Awesome!” Y/n cheered. “I mean, not the internal bleeding thing,” she quickly backtracked when both the guard and Tim gave her concerned looks. “That sounds horrifying. But I bet you we can get him to talk if we offer to move him from beatdown boulevard.”

Tim was able to admit, “that's a good idea. Looks like we got lucky, then.”

The guard led them to the infirmary where one Frank Williams was laying with plaster and gauze wrapped around his body. Frank was apprehensive, to say the least. When he was done telling his short story, Y/n offered. “alright, Frank, let's recap, shall we? You slipped and fell onto a shiv. Then you got up and fell backwards onto another shiv. And finally one last shiv fell from the… ceiling and into your body. I'm gonna go out on a limb here. I think you got shivved,” she concluded simply.

“What do you guys want?” Frank asked for the third time.

“We wanna make a deal,” Tim said. “Do you know anything about the murder of Nate Dexter?”

Frank Williams glared at the two cops. “What do I get if I do?” he asked slowly. 

“How about a transfer to another cell block? One with fewer shivs ,” Tim propositioned.

Williams looked around, as if anyone would be eavesdropping in the infirmary. After a moment, he grumbled out, as if against his will, “can't be sure, but I think Dexter owed money to a guy named Sam Bunsen.”

“And that's a new lead!” Y/n triumphantly turned to Tim.

“First lead in eight years,” he acquiesced, shrugging. “You were right.”

Dick and Jason were at a wedding planning shop and Jason was pouring over a binder full of napkin samples. “Jason, you gotta pick a napkin,” Dick said after another eleven minutes.

“Y/n said they should be beige,” Jason interjected before Dick could finish his sentence. “I didn't realize there'd be forty-five different shades!” he exclaimed in frustration. “ Chanterelle, desert whimsy, fucking filbert husk? Words have no more meaning, Richard!” He threw his hands into the air.

“We're running out of time, man,” Dick reiterated. “You gotta make a call.”

Jason chewed on his lip. “But what if I choose wrong?” he muttered. “That's a terrible way to start off a marriage. People won't even watch our first dance. They're gonna be too busy laughing at the napkins.” He ran a hand through his hair, anxiety rising within him. Dick put a hand on his detective’s back and Jason exhaled. “Okay,” he said. “Maybe I can narrow it down. Uh… I think I don't like desert whimsy.” He pointed at the offending napkin.

Dick glanced at the napkin and then nodded once. “Okay.”

“Why did you pause like that before you said ‘okay’?” Jason berated him instantly. “Was that secretly your favorite one?!”

The sergeant sighed. “Jay, you know Y/n better than anyone. You just have to trust your gut.” He put his hands on his stomach for emphasis. “What is your gut telling you?”

“That I'm hungry and a terrible napkin chooser and will therefore be a horrible spouse.”

“That is not your gut,” Dick said, shaking his head. “That is your crazy, nonsense brain. Trust me, Jason. You know the right napkin.” The older man had an oddly effective way of calming Jason down. “Is it this one?” He held up filbert husk .

“With that crimping?” Jason said instinctively. He shook his head sassily. “No way.” He then paused and gaped, looking at Dick, “oh, my god. What did I just do?”

Dick grinned, exclaiming, “you listened to your gut!”

“Yes! I have a gut!” Jason cried, pumping his fists into the air. “My groom gut!” The attendant glanced over at the two grown men, a concerned look in her eye.

“Every groom has one,” Dick said, clapping Jason on the back again. “You just had to find yours.”

“Okay, I can do this.” The soon-to-be husband took a breath. He then began flipping through the napkins at a quick pace. “Uh, this one's too big. This is too scratchy. This one is shedding. This one's too rustic. Am I using that term right?” he asked Dick. “When it comes to napkins?”

“Yes, you're doing it!” Dick cheered.

“It is too rustic!” Jason repeated excitedly, like it was a big revelation. He flipped the napkin over to reveal another sample. He slapped his palm down onto the napkin and looked up triumphantly at the sale’s assistant. “This one. Classy, but very absorbent. Simple, and it won't clash with our color scheme.”

Dick agreed, “it's perfect.”

“We'll take it! Groom gut!”

“Groom gut!”

“Hey, Timmy,” Y/n greeted, once back at the precinct. “No sign of Sam Bunsen in the federal database. You got anything?”

“Bad news.” Tim shook his head. “I only found his wife and she hasn't heard from him in eight years.”

“That doesn't sound good.”

Tim shot Y/n a confused look. “Yeah. That's why I started by saying ‘bad news,’” he said as if it were obvious. “I believe in having a clear topic sentence.”

“I bet Mrs. Bunsen is lying. She knows where her husband is.”

The detective shrugged and said, “I don’t know. I pushed pretty hard. She said she's willing to take a lie detector test, if that means anything.”

“Well, then let's bust out the polygraph.”

“Okay, we are very behind. Picking out napkins took up a shockingly large part of the day,” Jason said. He and Dick were still at the wedding planner’s store and still had too many things to cross off.

Dick put up a finger, reminding him, “but, the good news is, your groom gut is all fired up.”

“It’s hungry for tasks,” Jason agreed. He shook his hands out and said, “let's crush this list.” With the help of the attendant, the two men were able to get through all of Jason’s alarms. The detective was like a professional, making decisions this way and that. “Calla lilies? Do you think I'm planning a funeral? I want dahlias. No, no, no. Brown sprinkles at the ice cream bar? Do you think I'm planning a funeral? Give me rainbow! What the hell are those tablecloths? Do you think I’m planning a funeral? Get your head in the game.”

“Why do you keep saying the funeral thing?” Dick asked after a while.

“Because my groom gut has a catchphrase, Sarge,” Jason declared, putting his hands on his stomach. He then looked down at the list and realised they had completed everything. “We're amazing!”

Y/n was slumped in her chair in the interrogation room where a stenographer, Sophia Bunsen, and Tim all sat. “Okay! Please state your name one more time,” she begged, hands folded in front of her.

“Are we really doing this again? It's, like, the fifth time,” Sophia Bunsen asked.

“That's a lie!” Y/n cried out. “It's only the fourth time!” Her head whipped towards the stenographer who shook his head. “No? Okay, my bad. Continue.”

Sophia sighed heavily and rattled off, “I'm Sophia Bunsen, I haven't talked to my husband in eight years.” She then pointed to a picture on the table. “This is Nate Dexter. He was friends with my husband. I didn't know he was dead. You think my husband killed him, but I guarantee that's impossible.”

“Okay. Good,” Tim nodded, but Y/n cut him off.

“But not good enough! Let's do it again.”

It was then that Tim grabbed Y/n’s bicep and dragged her out of the room. “Dude, what the hell is going on with you? She passed the test six times.”

“Or maybe she's in cahoots,” Y/n whispered out dramatically. She pointed to the stenographer. “With him! Hmm?” The woman opened the door and cried out, “are you two cahooting? Is there cahooting going on?!”

“L/n!” Tim exclaimed, pulling her back out of the room. “It's over, okay? We had a lead, now it's dead. It happens!” She was about to protest when Tim asked, “why are you being so crazy about this case?”

Y/n’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. She looked around helplessly for a moment before finally shrugging. “I wanted to work the toughest case we had,” she said weakly. Both knew she was lying.

Tim shook his head and sighed. “I don't know why you wanna spend the entire night at work, but I'm going home. See you tomorrow, L/n.” He lifted a hand in a wave before turning and walking away. In the interrogation room, the stenographer began to unstrap Sophia Bunsen from the lie detector.

“Fine, abandon me!” Y/n called after Tim. “I don't want you here anyway!”

The next day, Tim walked into the briefing room, briefcase slung over his shoulder and coffee cup in hand. “I got here an hour early,” he announced to Y/n who was sitting in a chair to her back to him. “This better be good.” Y/n turned around in her chair to reveal dark bags under her eyes, her hair mussed up, and a large coffee stain on her shirt. “Jesus! What happened to you?” Tim cried. “How the hell did Jason let you get away with this?!”

“I have not slept in, since I last saw you, many hours,” Y/n explained, sentences fragmenting together. “Plus, Jason was out for drink last of the day with our bestest buddy, the Sarge, and saying something about fiancé belly. I t’was not particularly paying attention but I know he all better because he loves me.” She nodded cryptically and Tim looked around, as if wondering who else could take the sleep deprived woman off his hands. Where was Captain Wayne when you needed him? “Mm. Good to know,” Y/n said out of the blue, probably replying to the voices in her head. “So I rewatched the interrogation, and get this. Sophia wasn't lying about anything! She doesn't know who killed Nate Dexter. But, she knows something way better. Come with me.”

After a second where Y/n didn’t move at all, Tim called her name. “People normally move after they say that.”

“Oh, sorry, I fell asleep for a second,” she apologised. “Come with me.” She stood successfully and led Tim to the viewing room where from behind the two-way glass, he saw a man sitting at the interrogation table. “Y'all ready for this?” Y/n grinned. “Timothy Drake, allow me to introduce to you… Our murder victim, the not-dead Nate Dexter!”

Tim leaned forward, eyes on the man and brows furrowed. “What the hell?” he muttered. 

Y/n mimicked an explosion, eyes wide. “Right?! Sophia wasn't lying. I just wasn’t asking the right questions. She hadn't seen her husband in eight years, but she was positive there's no way that he killed Dexter. That's when it occurred to me, no one killed him.” She pressed the speaker button that allowed her to talk to Nate in the other room. “Hey, Nate, just talking about how you're alive.”

Nate glared at the two-way mirror. “Yeah, I'm alive.”

“But whose melted torso did we find?” Tim asked, still staring at the man in confusion. It was then that everything clicked for him. “Sophia's husband,” he said in awe.

“Yes!” Y/n shouted out, slapping the desk loudly with her hand and causing Tim to jump. “Sophia and Dexter were having an affair, husband found out, Nate killed him!” She clicked the speaker button again and spoke into the microphone, “now I'm telling my buddy about how you killed that guy.”

“It was for love!” Dexter defended himself, pulling against his cuffs. 

“Cool motive, still murder,” Y/n said. “Also, you remember that severed finger?” she asked Tim, who nodded. “Check this out. Hey, Nate. Show us your hands, please?” Nate begrudgingly held up his hands, shooting a glare towards the mirror. Where his pinkie finger used to be was a small hump. “Crazy, right? Cut it off himself. How screwed up is that?” Y/n asked, sticking her tongue out. “Anyway, I asked all of my CIs if they had dealings with a nine-fingered man. Unsolvable case... Solved!” She threw up her hands in victory. “Whoo!”

“Attention!” Captain Wayne raised his glass at Odin’s Bar. Y/n stood tucked into Jason’s side, the latter who was beaming down at his fiancée. “Everyone raise your glasses to the amazing Y/n L/n. Today, she did the impossible. She closed case 1652-EJCBX-718.” Wayne raised his glass to the almost bashful detective, and everyone did the same.

“Ah, the real hero here is the murderer,” Y/n said, waving them all off. “Without him there wouldn't be a case. So... here's to Nate Dexter, the murderer.” She raised her glass and everyone followed suit. 

The six-six spread out in the bar and Y/n turned to Jason. “Hey, were you able to get any wedding prep done?”

Jason’s chest puffed out a bit proudly. “Everything you needed. And I’ll continue to do anything you need whenever you need it.” He reached down to brush his nose against her before giving her a soft kiss. Y/n hummed and kissed him back, murmuring a very grateful thanks.

Later that night, Dick pulled Jason aside and said, “Look, being a good husband is about caring enough to try. This whole day you've been doing everything possible to make sure Y/n was happy. If you keep doing that, you're gonna be okay. Even if you make a couple mistakes sometimes,” he added.

Jason nodded. “Thank you, Sergeant,” he said. Both men knew he was talking about more than helping with wedding prep. 

Meanwhile, Y/n walked over to Tim and said, “I owe you an apology. I’ve been acting crazy these past couple of days. I’ve… I’ve been pretty stressed about the wedding and everything, but that’s ot an excuse.” 

“Yes, it is,” Tim corrected her. He then nudged her shoulder with his own. “But it’s understandable. I’d be acting the same way if I was in your position. And hey, if you wanna make it up to me, let me go wedding dress shopping with you.” At that, Y/n let out a loud laugh and agreed.

A few minutes later, however, Jason had to take her home because she was sorely exhausted.

[winchesterwild78]

Daddy’s Girl pt 11

Master List

Characters: Dean Winchester x Reader (wife), Dean and Reader’s daughter, other characters from Supernatural

Warnings: injury, angst, fluff, Dean being sad

A/N: Another collab story with @cheekygirl2309. Aftermath of Charlie stealing and wrecking the car.

Sorry it’s taken so long to write this chapter. Life has sucked recently and I lost my joy for writing. I’m slowly trying to find it. I hope this chapter turns out how I planned.

This is a work of fiction and does not follow the Supernatural storyline. I do not own the rights to the characters used.

All work is my own and @cheekygirl2309, don’t take it or use it as your own. Reblogs and likes are appreciated.

Minors DNI 18+

Dean, Delilah and I made our way to the hospital. My leg bounced in the seat as Dean’s focus was getting there. Speed limits and red lights be damned.

Delilah called Sam and he was meeting us at the hospital. My heart pounded in my chest. An ache bloomed, my baby, my son was laying in the hospital and I had no idea how he was doing.

Regardless of how he got there, he was still my baby and he needed me.

Dean barely put the car in park when I leaped out and ran through the Emergency Room doors.

I ran to the desk, “Charlie Winchester, where is he?!” I yelled, trying to catch my breath. The nurse behind the desk looked at me and nodded. She typed on the computer and ushered me to follow her.

Dean and Delilah saw me walking towards the back and ran to catch up.

As we approached the room he was in I noticed two police officers standing outside his door. The taller one stepped forward. “Hello Are you Mr and Mrs. Winchester?” “Yes, now let me see my son.” I demanded.

He stepped between me and the door. “Ma’am, you’re going to have to wait a minute.”

I scoffed, “Like hell I will, that’s my son in there. I need to get to him.” The other police officer touched his shoulder and they stepped to the side.

I pushed past them and opened the door. I gasped at the sight before me.

My sweet boy, bruised and bloody. His arm in a sling, and his leg in a cast. My breath hitched.

I could hear Dean and the officers talking as I approached the bed. Delilah walked in and gasped loudly. Charlie’s head turned towards us and his eyes darted between his sister and me.

Then I noticed his eyes filled with tears. I was instantly by his side, holding his hand. The tears began to fall, slow at first then a constant flow. Delilah stepped to his other side and placed her hand on his shoulder.

“What were you thinking?” I whispered. He let out a sob, “I’m so sorry mom. I screwed up and now the car is wrecked and dad is going to kill me if I don’t go to jail first. I’m so sorry.” Sobbs wrecked his body.

I was on my feet and pulled him close to me, “Shh, baby. No, dad isn’t going to kill you. It’s just a car. It can be replaced, you can’t. God I’m so glad you’re okay. Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

His eyes were red and swollen, but I saw the flicker of surprise in them.

A few minutes later the doctor came in with Dean.

Dean looked at Charlie and I could see the fear in his eyes. He walked over, Charlie watching every step he took. Dean wrapped him in his arms and held him tight. “I’m so glad you’re safe. You’re grounded forever, but I’m so glad you’re safe.” Charlie and Dean chuckled a little.

“Mr and Mrs Winchester, I’m Dr. Stone. I’m treating your son.” I nodded and extended my hand, “Nice to meet you. So what’s wrong and when can he go home?”

“Well he broke his leg, dislocated his shoulder, and he has lots of cuts and bruises. Nothing too serious considering the extent of the accident. He got very lucky.”

I let out the breath I was holding. “When can he go home?” Dr Stone looked at Dean and I, “Well I want to keep him overnight for observation, but as far as going home that will be up to the police.”

I swallowed hard and nodded. Dean thanked the doctor and he left.

Charlie looked between Dean and I, “Am I really going to jail? I’m sorry I took the car and wrecked it. It was so stupid. I swear I won’t do it again. Please, mama, don’t let them take me to jail.” Charlie started crying, Delilah cried and begged us to do something.

Dean swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat, “I’ll see what is going on.”

As Dean was about to leave the room, Sam came in.

We explained everything to him and he called Jody. “Jody said she’d make a phone call and see what charges they are thinking about pressing against him. She might be able to help us out.”

I nodded and hugged him, “Thank you, Sammy. I just want to take my baby home.”

Dean, Delilah, and Sam left to grab some coffee and snacks, leaving Charlie and I alone. This was the first time in a long time we had been alone and I was nervous. The last time we were alone Charlie was so angry. I braced myself.

I sat in the chair beside him and could feel the tension crackling in the air. My heart pounded and my head spun. I had no idea how to talk to him at that moment.

I looked over at him, he looked so much like Dean. I smiled slightly. His eyes flicked with the light from the television.

I swallowed and took a deep breath, preparing myself for whatever was coming. “Honey, why did you take the car?”

His head turned slowly towards me and his eyes flashed with hurt and regret. He began to fidget with his hands. I reached out and touched his hand, holding it. I expected him to flinch or pull away, but he didn’t.

“I was just so lonely. I felt like no matter what I did I couldn’t get your attention or dad’s. Everything was always Delilah. I get it, she was assaulted and that was horrible, but I couldn’t help but feel like our whole lives have revolved around her happiness. Then she met Lucas and everyone was happy for her. We went to dinner with her boyfriend and his family. Nobody ever asks me how I’m doing. I stole the car because I felt like everyone would be better off if I was gone. I was going to Uncle Sam’s house and a deer jumped out in front of me. The next thing I knew I was waking up here. I’m so sorry, mama.”

His tears were falling fast, mine just as fast. I grabbed him and held him close to me. Hugging him like it was the last time I’d ever get to hold him. “I’m so sorry, Charlie. I’m so sorry you felt less than your sister. You have always been an important part of this family. We should have focused on you too and not so much on her. No one, do you understand me, no one would be better off with you gone. You’re my son, my baby boy and I’d never get over it if something happened to you.”

I kissed his head and held him tightly. My heart bloomed with a deep ache for him. How could we be so foolish and not see the impact this has had on him. All his anger, his harsh words to me, was out of hurt and frustration.

Dean, Delilah, Sam and Jody walked in the room. Jody came up to the bed and hugged Charlie. “Looks like you’re pretty banged up, kiddo. Did you learn a lesson?” Charlie nodded and looked at me, “Yeah I did.” He looked up at Dean, “Dad, I’m sorry. I’m going to do whatever it takes to pay to have the car fixed. I’ll work odd jobs, mow every lawn in the city if I have to.”

Dean placed his hand on Charlie’s shoulder, “I’m just glad you’re safe. We can fix her up together, okay?” Charlie nodded.

Jody had spoken to the Chief of Police and the only charges against Charlie were going to be driving without a license, because Dean refused to press charges. “So he can go home with us tomorrow?” I asked, still holding his hand.

She nodded, “Yeah he can. He’ll probably end up with community service since he’s a minor and has a clean record. Just don’t make this a habit, or I can’t get you out of it. Understand?” He nodded. “Thank you, Jody. I don’t know how I can ever repay you for this.”

She pulled me into a hug, “You don’t owe me anything, we’re family and family helps each other.” Dean hugged her and thanked her too.

As night turned into day, I could see Dean, Sam and Delilah getting more tired. Charlie had fallen asleep around 7am. Delilah was asleep, but restless in the chair.

“Dean, you three go home. I’m going to stay here with him. You get some rest and when they release him I’ll call you.”

He stood and stretched, “Are you sure, sweetheart?” I nodded, “Yes, go get some sleep. I’m going to need your help taking care of him. We have a lot of things to talk about later, so I need you rested.”

He kissed my lips and hugged me tightly before waking up Delilah and Sam. I hugged them goodbye and they slipped out of the room.

I laid back down in the recliner and pulled the blanket up around me. I could hear Charlie’s soft snores and I smiled. He looked just like Dean, and slept just like him too. One arm tucked under his head, mouth slightly opened and soft snores.

I fell asleep listening to him, thankful he was okay and still with me.

Across town Dean and Delilah had arrived back at the bunker and were ready to crawl in bed.

Dean let out a long sigh and ran his hand down his face. “Daddy, are you okay?” Delilah asked in a soft voice.

“Yeah pumpkin, it’s just been a long night. You go ahead and get some sleep. It’s going to be all hands on deck when Charlie comes home.” Delilah nodded and hugged Dean. She slipped into her bedroom and climbed into bed. Staring at the ceiling waiting to hear Dean come down the hallway to his bedroom. She wanted to make sure he was okay.

The minutes ticked by and she began to get worried. She found Dean in the Dean cave laying on the couch. She tiptoed back to her room and grabbed her pillow and blankets, walking back into the Dean cave. She made a bed on the floor and laid down. Dean’s arm was hanging off the couch so she laid so her shoulder was under his hand.

Dean’s hand twitched and he let out a soft sigh. She knew he needed someone, she was just like her father that way. Sleep quickly took over her as she laid on the floor.

While Dean slept he dreamed of Bobby. Or so he thought it was a dream. “Hey Dean.” Bobby’s gruff voice startled him. “Bobby! I’m so glad to see you.”

Bobby smirked, “Yeah. I bet. Things seem to be going haywire, huh? Your boy stole the car and wrecked. Sounds like something you would have done when you were his age.” Bobby chuckled.

Dean smirked and ran his hand through his hair. “Bobby I feel like I’m failing as a father and as a husband. I don’t know what to do.”

Bobby placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder, “You idjit, you’re not failing. This is part of being a father and a husband. Things are going to be great and then things aren’t going to go the way you planned. How you respond is what makes you a great father and husband. From what I’m seeing you’re doing an amazing job. Y/N loves you and you’ve got two amazing kids.”

Dean nodded, “Yeah, well the only role model I had on how to be an amazing father was you. I don’t think I ever thanked you for that, Bobby.”

Bobby looked at Dean, “You thank me every day you show up for your kids and your wife. I’m so damn proud of you son. You were meant to be a husband and father, and I’m so glad you’ve gotten to be one.”

Bobby pulled Dean into a tight hug, “Now, go take care of your family. They need you, and remember I’m always here for you.”

Dean woke up and his breath caught in his throat. He gasped and it woke up Delilah. “Daddy, are you okay?” Tears pricked Dean’s eyes, “Yeah, I’m okay. Just talked to an old friend.”

“Was it Grandpa Bobby?” Dean smirked, “Yeah, it was Grandpa Bobby.”

“I figured it was. He checks in on me in my dreams from time to time. He always knows when we need him the most.” Dean smiled, “I didn’t know he visited you.” Delilah nodded, “Yeah, he visits Charlie too.”

Dean smiled and thought, of course he visits them. Delilah stood and went to her room, returning with something in her hand.

“Daddy, I found this at Uncle Sammy’s house in a box. He told me it was Grandpa Bobby’s. I think you need it right now more than I do.”

Dean took the worn hat and smiled. It was definitely Bobby’s. Dean hugged Delilah, “Thanks pumpkin. This means so much to me.”

A few hours later I called Dean to let him know they were releasing Charlie in a few hours. “Can you bring him some clean clothes and shoes, please.” I asked as I was giving Dean a list of things we needed from the store.

“Yep, I’ll bring his clothes and I’ll grab everything we need from the store. I think I’ll get him some of his favorite snacks too.” I smiled, “That would be great, Dean. Thank you. I love you, be careful.” “I love you too, see you soon.”

The nurse had come in with crutches and was teaching Charlie how to use them. He was starting to get the hang of it as Dean and Delilah arrived.

“Uhoh, looks like Charlie’s on the move.” Delilah chuckled.

“I can still beat you in a race, sis.” Charlie retorted. Dean and I laughed.

Delilah walked over to Charlie and slung her arm around him, “Hey, I’m really glad you’re okay. Don’t ever scare me like that again, okay?” He looked at her and nodded, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare anyone.” She hugged him tight, “I know.”

“Charlie, I’m gonna put your clothes in the bathroom so you can change. Let me know if you need help.” Dean said as he placed Charlie’s clothes on the bathroom sink.

Charlie walked into the bathroom and closed the door. I hugged Dean and Delilah while we waited for Charlie.

“We got everything at the store, I even had Delilah help pick out snacks.” I smiled and thanked them softly.

The bathroom door clicked open and Charlie walked out, balancing on his crutches. “Guess I’m ready to go when they let me.” He shrugged.

“Well, they just brought in the paperwork, so we are good to go.” I said holding up the papers.

“Okay, let’s get out of here. I hate hospitals.” Charlie said as the rest of us laughed.

We were walking down the hallway, heading towards the elevator and Dean smirked and let out a little chuckle. I looked at him and he motioned to Charlie. I playfully slapped his arm, “Stop it, and help your son.” He laughed and stepped up to Charlie as we stood waiting for the elevator.

Dean leaned up and whispered into Charlie’s ear, “Hey, looks like you had some trouble getting your pants up. Okay if I help?” Charlie nodded and Dean quickly pulled up Charlie’s pants the rest of the way.

The elevator arrived and I noticed a crimson hue on Charlie’s cheeks. I smiled at him, “Hey, it’s okay everyone here used to change your little tushy.”

Delilah and Dean roared with laughter, Charlie just shook his head, “Thanks a lot mom.” I smiled and touched his arm, “You’re welcome sweetie.” I placed a soft kiss on his cheek. Then I froze. “I’m sorry. I should have asked if that was okay.”

Charlie steadied himself on the wall and offered me his good arm. He hugged me, “It was more than okay, mom.” I smiled and nodded.

A warmth filled my heart. I felt like we were at a turning point.

Arriving at the bunker, Delilah and I carried in the groceries and Dean helped Charlie get inside.

“Okay, buddy, where do you want to go?” Dean asked as he and Charlie were walking in from the garage. “Um the library.”

Dean nodded and helped Charlie get comfortable at one of the tables in the library. Dean grabbed a pillow to prop Charlie’s leg up and sat across from him.

Charlie nervously shifted in his seat. He hadn’t talked to Dean about the accident and he was nervous. Dean sensed his anxiety and let out a soft breath.

“Charlie, I think we should talk about what happened.” Charlie looked at Dean and nodded before putting his head back down.

“First I want you to know I meant what I said about the car. It can be rebuilt, hell I’ve done it before. Your mom and I are just thankful you made it out and your injuries weren’t worse than they are. Charlie, I know you’ve had a hard time with everything going on with your sister. Your mom and I are so sorry we made you feel like you weren’t important to us, because you are just as important to us as Delilah is. You’re our baby boy. You’re my son, my legacy to this world.”

Charlie sat listening to Dean, really listening to him and tears pricked his eyes. He had never thought about that before, but it was true. He would be the one to carry on the Winchester name, and he wanted to make his father proud of him.

The tears that pricked his eyes started to fall. A painful lump formed in his throat as the hot tears spilled down his cheeks. Dean was out of his chair in an instant and by Charlie’s side.

He held him tightly as he cried. “Dad, I’m so sorry. I only ever wanted to make you and mom proud of me. To love me like you do Delilah.”

Dean’s heart broke. He pulled back and looked at Charlie, “We are proud of you, Charlie and we sure as hell love you as much as we do Delilah. Listen, things have been crazy and your mom and I didn’t handle it like we could have. You’re right, we did put a lot of focus and energy on Delilah and her happiness. We didn’t realize how much we were neglecting you, and for that we are deeply sorry. I promise you we will do better. From now on you will never question how much we love and care for you.”

I stood at the doorway and listened to Dean and Charlie. I was so glad Charlie felt comfortable enough to tell Dean what he’d told me.

I put laundry in the washer and started to cook dinner. When dinner was ready we all went into the kitchen to eat. Charlie sat in Dean’s chair since it had more space for him to stretch out his leg.

Charlie began scarfing down the food like he hadn’t eaten in days. I chuckled when I looked at him and he had spaghetti sauce on his face. With his mouth full he looked up at me and said, “What?” I shook my head and chuckled, “Nothing. I’m just glad you have your appetite.” “Well, this is really good. Thank you for cooking, mom.” “You’re welcome baby.”

I looked at Dean and we smiled at each other. Delilah had been texting Lucas and I noticed Charlie kept looking at her.

Quiet conversation filled the room and by the time dinner was done the tension between all of us was starting to ebb.

I stood and started clearing up and noticed Charlie shifting uncomfortably in his chair. My brows furrowed and I looked at Dean and nodded.

“Hey Buddy,” Dean said. “Are you okay?”

Charlie looked at me and then at him. He hung his head and fidgeted with his hands. “Um, I need to go to the bathroom but need some help getting my pants down.” His face flushed red.

Dean chuckled a little, “I’ve got you, buddy. Come on. Let’s go.”

Dean helped Charlie stand and they walked out of the room.

I finished cleaning up dinner and started washing dishes. Dean came back into the kitchen chuckling a little and I looked at him and smiled.

“What’s so funny?” I asked. “Your son is. He was so embarrassed asking me to help him to the bathroom we almost didn’t make it in time. Poor kid.”

I continued washing dishes as I looked at Dean, “Leave my baby alone or you’re going to be in trouble.”

Dean chuckled and stepped behind me, “Oh, is that so?” He brushed the hair off my neck and started kissing down my neck and to my pulse point.

I leaned back into him and my breath hitched.

Dean chuckled deep in his chest, “Seems like you’re the one in trouble, sweetheart.”

I smiled because damn was he right.

I finished the dishes and Dean rinsed and dried them.

After they were put away we walked to the Dean Cave. There we found Delilah and Charlie sitting on the couch watching Scooby Doo.

I looked at Dean and smiled. He was beaming with pride.

Dean sat between the kids and I sat at the other end. I looked over and saw Dean with both of his children on either side of him. I could see the love between the three of them.

Delilah had her phone out and a smile on her face. I saw how her face lit up and she nervously chewed her lip.

Dean noticed too. I saw a flicker of sadness in his eyes as the realization washed over him.

His baby girl, his little pumpkin pie, was in love. That scared him more than any monster he’d ever faced.

A few hours later there was a knock on mine and Dean’s door. “Come in.” I said.

Delilah opened the door. “Hey guys. I know Charlie is grounded, but I was wondering if I could take him out with Lucas and I tomorrow? I wanted to talk to you two before I talked to him.”

I looked at Dean and then at her. “Can we talk about it and let you know tomorrow morning?”

She nodded enthusiastically and hugged me then Dean. “Thanks guys. I was talking to Lucas and we didn’t want Charlie to continue to feel left out so we wanted to take him out. With your permission.”

I touched her arm, “I think he’d like that. I’m sure he’s really missing his big sister right now.”

“Yeah, I guess Lucas is taking up more of my time than I thought.”

She hung her head in a little sadness.

I touched her arm, “Hey, don’t do that. This isn’t your fault. This is part of growing up. You’re allowed to be happy and live your life.”

She nodded, thanked us and left.

Dean looked at me and had a pang of sadness in his eyes. “Dean, baby, what’s wrong?”

He sighed and hung his head a little, “I guess I’m just having a hard time with her getting older. She’s growing up too fast, they both are. I’m just not ready to say goodbye to them.”

I touched his arm and stood in front of him, “Dean, we’re not saying goodbye to them. Once they grow up they go build a life of their own, we are still going to be a part of that.”

His green eyes met mine and I could see the tears that pricked his eyes. I positioned myself between his legs as he sat on the side of the bed. His hands held my hips and pulled me closer to him.

Dean laid his head against my torso as I leaned down and kissed his head. My hands touched his neck and shoulders. “Come on baby, let’s go to bed.” I whispered against his head. He nodded and leaned back, pulling me down with him causing me to giggle.

Dean laughed and kissed my lips softly, “I guess the silver lining about the kids growing up is I can have more alone time with you and walk around in my underwear.” A deep chuckle left his lips and I laughed.

“Yes you can, Dean. All day long.”

I smiled at him as he pulled me in his arms. “So are we going to let Charlie go out with Delilah and Lucas tomorrow?” Dean asked as he held me.

I sighed, “Honestly I’m torn. I want them to spend time together and grow close again, but he did take the car and wreck it. What do you think?”

Dean took a deep breath and let it out slowly, “I feel the same way. I know he’s feeling pushed to the side with everything that’s happened to her and with her, but that doesn’t excuse his behavior over the past few months. Maybe we let him go with her with the understanding that this is a one time thing and if he wants to earn this privilege again he needs to prove it. No more of this mouthing off, stealing and defying us.”

I shifted next to Dean and looked at him, “Okay. I’m fine with that. We’ll tell Delilah in the morning.”

He nodded, kissed my lips and turned off the light. Pulling me to his side we fell asleep wrapped in each other's arms.

The next morning I woke up before Dean. I found Delilah already awake and in the kitchen. “Good morning, baby girl. How are you?”

“I’m good. Just thinking.” I raised an eyebrow at her and smirked, “what are you thinking about sweetie? Anything I can help with?”

She smiled softly and her eyes sparkled. My breath hitched. I’d seen that look before. I’d had the same look with Dean. My little girl was in love, and not a puppy love, but a head over heels, forever kind of love.

“I’m just thinking about Lucas and everything. Mama he reminds me so much of daddy. He’s kind, brave, supportive and so protective. I’m in love with him.” A blush spread across her face and I touched her hand.

“He sounds amazing, baby girl. We are happy for you.”

She got a look on her face and fidgeted, “What about daddy? Is he okay with Lucas?”

I smiled and nodded, “Yes, it’s just hard on him to see you two grow up so fast. He thought for years he’d never be able to have a family, then you two came along and you became his life. He’s always just wanted what was best for you two and for you two to be loved and protected. If Lucas does that then daddy will be fine. I promise.”

“Thanks mama. So did you and daddy decide if we can take Charlie with us today? We were thinking mini golf and lunch.”

“Yeah, we’re going to let him go. We just want to have a conversation with him first.”

She nodded, “Thank you. I’ll let Lucas know.”

She hugged me and left the room. A few minutes later I was cooking breakfast when Dean came in. He grabbed a coffee and came over and kissed my lips. “Good morning, sweetheart.” “Good morning, Dean. How’d you sleep?”

“Okay. Definitely glad for coffee.” I nodded and smiled.

About 20 minutes later Charlie came in and looked at Dean and I. He smiled slightly but the smile barely stretched past his lips.

“Hey baby. How’d you sleep?” I smiled as I hugged him.

He looked surprised, “okay. I’m still getting used to this cast and everything.”

Dean glanced up from his coffee and looked at me and I nodded.

“Sweetie, dad and I want to talk to you about something.”

Charlie nodded and took a seat at the table. Dean sat his coffee down and I noticed Charlie swallow hard.

“So, stealing the credit card was one thing, but stealing the car is a whole different matter. You could have been seriously hurt or hurt someone else, or worse. We’re so glad you’re okay, but we’ve got a long road back to the trust we had.”

He nodded and hung his head. “I know, and I’m so sorry. Waking up in the hospital scared the heck out of me.”

Dean straightened up and took a deep breath, “It scared us too, Charlie. I don’t know what I’d do, what we would do if we had lost you. I do know we wouldn’t have survived that loss.”

I noticed Dean’s eyes filled with tears. “Charlie, Delilah wanted you to go with her and Lucas today. If we let you go, understand this is a privilege and you can lose that privilege just as quickly as it was given. Is that something you’d want to do? Go with Delilah and Lucas?” I looked at him, searching for an answer.

He nervously bit his lip, “They really want me to go with them?”

I smiled and nodded, “yes. It was their idea. Would you want to go?”

He smiled, “Yeah. I’d like to. I guess if Lucas is going to be in her life I need to get to know him better. Thanks mom and dad.”

Delilah walked in and Charlie smiled at her. “Mom said you and Lucas wanted to take me with you today. Do you really?”

She smiled big, “Yes! Mini golf and lunch. How does that sound?”

Charlie looked confused, “How am I supposed to play mini golf?”

Delilah laughed, “Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out.”

Dean chuckled, “Try not to break anything else.” We all laughed.

A few hours later Delilah and Charlie were getting ready to go. Lucas came by and was waiting for them.

Dean took the opportunity to chat with Lucas. “So, how’s classes going?”

Lucas smiled, “They are going great. I really like the professors and the workload isn’t too bad.”

Dean nodded, “So college. Any wild parties coming up you plan on taking my baby to?”

I snorted and playfully hit Dean’s arm. “Dean, stop interrogating the poor boy.”

Dean feigned innocence.

“It’s okay Mrs Winchester, I know when I eventually have children I’m going to be protective too. I promise Mr Winchester, I have nothing but the utmost respect for your daughter. I love her.”

Dean froze and looked at me. I offered him a reassuring smile.

When the kids came in they were laughing and I saw Lucas’ face light up when he saw Delilah. It was the same look Dean had on his face when we fell in love.

My breath hitched. My little girl was a young woman in love and he was in love with her.

The three of them left, we could hear them laughing and talking as they left.

I looked over at Dean and saw him deep in thought.

I walked over to him and stood between his legs and lifted his chin softly. “Dean, honey are you okay?”

He looked up at me with tears in his eyes, “He’s in love with her. I know that look. That boy is so deeply in love with our baby girl. He’s going to marry her.”

He sighed heavily and a single tear slipped down his cheek.

I wiped it away and kissed his lips softly. “I know, baby but she’s a smart girl. She’ll make him take care of her. We raised her that way.

He smiled, nodded and pulled me close to him.

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[admirationandromantics]

Computer Assembling

The photo mentioned is the first one on the three-photo preview on the top. Fucking hell. I swear to god, you guys are going to be the death of me when writing cause ugh, this just flew and flew and flew! I don't have time to write like this, but can't help it when you make the exact scenarios I've been imagining myself. Holy shit, well, read the request and you'll get a good idea of what's about to happen. Ps, added some lovely smut in this, so enjoy <3

Word count: 2,4k (Unedited)

h a i . . . :3 sent u a photo in your inbox to go along with this little request/thot thinking about Chris lowkey being into building computers and he's wearing THAT outfit i sent you and his build looks like that too and maybe the relationship is like you guys are hanging out for maybe the 4-5th time ever and you're just sitting there staring and drooling and not being subtle at all and he's just stuttering and trying not to literally fuck you right then and there while you two are in his room while he builds his new pc build.. oh my god.. i really need nerdy, beefy chris today and your writing always fuels me 🫶😇 -@nerd-space

I can’t help staring at his arms, his sweater rolled up over them, making the lower half partially visible. I wonder what’s underneath the rest of it…

“Can you hand me that star-formed screw?” he asks, reaching out his hand for me to give him. I look around the floor, different bags of screws, corks, plastic and tools. I take some screws with crosses and hand them to him. He takes a quick look to see that they’re correct, before starting to spin them into the metal. I watch intently, his fingers working their magic, no detail too small. Being precise and delicate as he keeps going. Veins forming on his hands as he tightens the screws. 

He shifts, noticing my stare. I can’t control it, therefore I have to force my hand upwards, closing my mouth and turning my head. I bet he’d kick me out for the nasty thoughts I’m having. 

“So” he starts, coughing a little. “Think we can get this done in one night?” 

“I know something we can” 

“What?” 

Shit, I said that out loud. I stutter, trying to find something remotely similar which doesn’t sound as suggestive. 

“I know we can” I quickly rescue myself, and he gives a silent nod, dragging the metalwork on his lap, hiding the view I’m so shamelessly taking advantage of. I sigh, turning back to the equipment. We weren’t far away now, just one board and a little assembling left. I enjoy watching it, not just because of him, but because it looks just like lego. I bet if I bought a set, he’d build it with me. Another reason to watch his hands work, his muscles tense and veins popping. 

His room is cozy. Blinds are open, but the outside is dark. It’s nighttime after all. A lot can still happen before dawn. His walls are full of posters and pictures, his old gaming setup on the desk, as well as a semi-large bed. Around a queen-size one. I take another breath, thighs pressing together to stop my thoughts from wandering. 

“Are you feeling alright?” he asks, cheeks a bit flushed. Is it hot in here? 

“Um, yeah. Just you know”

“What?” 

“Nothing, I’ve just never been in your room before” 

“First time for everything, right?” He laughs a little, and I smile. His hand wanders up to his face, rearranging his glasses, pushing them back. God, if he only took them off, if he did and threw that piece of machinery on the floor and just took me hard right now on the-

“But yeah, none of the others have been here yet” he explains, waving to the room. I nod, looking around once again. The urge to look through his stuff is exhausting. I can’t help myself. 

“Mind if I check your drawers?” I ask, already standing up. He smiles, nodding along and holds his hand out. 

“Be my guest” 

I firstly walk to his desk, opening the first drawer and being met with a couple of game cards, coins and some paper and pens. All of them seem to be minecraft coordinates, remembering where different structures are and other people’s bases. 

“Didn’t take you for a Minecraft sweat–gamer” I joke, looking through the notes. 

“Well, when you’re playing with Josh, you kinda have to” 

“I see” 

I move to the other drawer, bending forward a little since it’s lower. Maybe a bit on purpose? He won’t notice either way. This one is full of candy wrappers, every colour just laying there. I dig through it, finding a small notebook on the bottom. 

“You know there’s something called a garbage bin?” 

“And you know there’s something called privacy?” 

“You said it was fine!” 

“Yeah, yeah” 

I open the book, seeing a couple of old drawings and doodles. Some of them are only scribbles. On one page is Ashley’s name, and my heart falls a bit. This was three years ago. It still doesn’t matter, we all know how down bad he was for her. I sigh silently, closing the book and putting it back. 

I figure that’s it, I’ll stop snooping now. I turn around, seeing him on the chair, screws still in hand as he works intently. I sit down on the bed, right over him, watching as he tightens them, arm flexing in the process. The curvature of his muscles as they reach all the way back behind his sweater. 

Jeez, I need to stop myself, I sound desperate. Desperately horny to be honest, but who wouldn’t be? He’s sitting there, with his arms bare, working his magic right beside me. Glasses on, pants unfortunately on, muscles tensing and a sweet blush on his face. His adorable glasses and messy hair. He said he got out of the shower right before I came. I feel hot, and it’s definitely not okay. What if he still likes Ashley? What if he sees me as just a friend, nothing more? I don’t want to ruin this. 

“Um, y-you’re turning quite red, are you alright?” he suddenly says, a worried look in his eyes as he looks down at me. I pull myself from my trance, chest heaving as I try to steady my pulse- 

“Yeah, I’m fine, just thinking” 

“About what?” He watches as my eyes linger over his arms once again, breathing getting uneven and my thighs pressing together. I have no shame, damnit. 

“Y-you know” 

“Care to elaborate on that?” He laughs a little, gazing over, taking in every inch of me. Am I that obvious? Was this top way too low-cut, because I’ve seen him staring a couple of times. 

“About why you’re staring down my chest” I blurt out, being too forward. Shit. His face gets completely red, hands working in a rush as his attention goes back to the project. He sighs, head leaning back as he collects himself. 

“You can’t expect me not to look when you’re dressed like that” 

“Hartley, are you calling me easy?” 

“Hey, I’ve seen how you’ve looked at me for the last hours” 

The room turns silent, my mouth open to say something back, but I don’t manage. He’s stopped working on the computer, arms stiff and eyes shocked, as if he can’t believe he caught me. Shit, he actually caught me. I’ve been so careful, at least as much as I could. We both stare at one another, and I feel my pulse go up again, heart beating faster and breathing quickening. Fucking hell, why is he staring at me like this? I look him up and down, the computer still being in his lap. 

“I-I um” I start, but can’t finish. A small smile creeps up on his lips as his attention goes back to the project as if nothing happened. I look up confused, wondering what just happened. 

“If my bare arms has that effect on you, you could’ve just told me” he laughs a bit, fastening the frame. 

“What, no, that’s not-”

“I mean, I can take off the whole thing if that’d make you pay attention, but I think it wouldn’t work” 

“Hey, I wasn’t-”

“But you can sit there drooling over my fucking fingers without me thinking about how you’d handle it” 

“What, handle what?” 

He puts the tools down, moving the computer off his lap and walking over. Just then, I notice his large bulge underneath his pants. The thought alone makes my face blush, all the ways I’ve imagined him coming back to haunt me. 

He leans over, and before I can process what’s happening, his lips are on mine, arms on either side of me on the bed. I melt into it, hands going up around his neck, pulling him closer. I lean down, dragging him with and letting him tower over me, even if we’re laying horizontally. His fingers move to grope my thigh, roughly kneading as he bites my lips. I can’t help the moan that escapes my cords, getting swallowed by him as he moves lower and looks up at me. 

“You really can’t keep testing my limits like this”

“What if I do?” 

“Then I can’t be held responsible for what I do next” 

“And what’ll that be?” 

“You’re about to find out” 

His lips leave kisses and bites all over my neck, sucking until he finds the spot making me scream. His hand immediately goes to cover my mouth, smiling as he stops for a bit. 

“Thin walls, I’ve got neighbours, contain yourself”

“Easy for you to say” 

“Do you know how much I’ve wanted to fuck the life out of you for the last few hours?” 

“N-no” I stammer, his hands moving under my shirt, groping my breasts. 

“So much I already had a trip to the bathroom, and you got me all going again as I came back” 

“So, you’ve already tried to take care of yourself” 

“You make it difficult” he smirks, dragging my top off. 

“Well, we have to do something about that” 

“You bet I am” 

He takes hold of my already unbuttoned pants, dragging them off with ease, and watching in hunger as my breast jiggles from the movement. I gasp at the cold air, feeling it especially on my soaked panties. He doesn’t waste time, unbuttoning his pants and dragging off the white, thin sweater, letting me see his muscular build. I reach up to him, feeling every curve of each muscle until he gets impatient and throws me down on the sheets. 

“Again, we’re not testing my limits tonight, they’ve already been crossed” 

I snicker, feeling him cage me with his arms as he kisses my lips. I carefully take off his glasses, placing them on the nightstand. His face is flushed, chest heaving as he breathes, but I don’t blame him. I probably look worse. He kisses down my stomach, stopping by my thighs to suck them dry. I moan loudly, forgetting about the walls and neighbours. They would have to deal with it. He leaves red and blue marks all over, several times causing me to slam my legs shut. He doesn’t get hurt though, his big strong arms keeping them apart easily before moving to my heat. His fingers trace over the wet fabric, and he hums to himself when feeling it. When feeling me. I whine from the tender contact, the touch too weak to do anything about my craving. He stands up, taking fully off his pants and boxers. I do the same, wanting him so incredibly bad, right now. I’ve waited for him long enough. I pull off my panties, unhooking my bra and throwing it off. He stands there mesmerized by the sight, but I don’t let him take it in. 

“Gaze while we fuck, I need you now” I whisper, taking his hand and dragging him over me again. 

“As you wish ma’am” 

He leans over me, letting his length coat itself in my juices. I’m so ready for him, even though I didn’t get the time to see how big he is, I need him right now inside me. 

“Are you sure you can take it?” he whispers teasingly, making my tension build up. 

“Chris, I swear to god I’ll do it myself if you don’t-”

I give a loud moan as he pushes himself completely in, filling me too much, way over the brim. He gropes my thigh, lifting my leg to get him even further, almost reaching my cervix. I whine, the pain and pleasure merging together and starting to build in my stomach. 

“You know, there’s something so satisfying about shutting you up” 

“So this is how confident and cocky you get when you understand that someone likes you?” 

“Maybe”

“Do I need to remind you of the time you saw me in that short skirt-”

I moan loudly again as he pushes out and completely in again. That time, his face was flustered the whole night. I even got a comment from both Mike and Josh, which made him look over more often, watching intently the whole night. 

“If you keep reminding me of stuff like that, we’ll stay here until dawn” 

“I wouldn’t mind that” 

He starts moving, each thrust earring whimpers and moans from us both, filling the room with our voices and sloppy slapping. His hand eventually finds its way down to my clit, rubbing soft circles in rhythm with his movements. My arms go to his back and neck, pulling him down and meeting my lips with his, my nails scratching from the heavy stimulation. He knows what he’s doing, and he’s doing it well, the knot in my stomach steadily building up as he keeps going. 

“Switch” I whisper, and he obliges, turning us around and letting me straddle him. I start moving immediately, chasing my orgasm as he whimpers and groans. I jump up and down, my thighs doing most of the work. He notices quickly, and his arms go to my ass, groping harshly and moving me. The position makes him reach a new angle deep inside, making the pleasure unbearable. I’m so incredibly close, I just need a little more time. I start feeling hotter, sweat appearing on my forehead as I keep up the sloppy rhythm, letting my breasts jiggle in front of him. 

I start grinding a bit when I go down, letting our pelvises touch, and giving me that extra stimulation on my clit. This takes over me, making me go over the edge, tightening around him. I keep going, riding out my high on top of him as he jumps me up and down. He gives one last slam, pressing me deep on him and spilling inside me. Thank god I’m on the pill. 

I collapse on top of him, pulse skyrocketing and chest heaving. We’re both sweaty and flustered, breathing in sync as his hand comes to caress my back. I hum into his neck, kissing him softly. 

“So, I think you might have a thing for me” he smiles, fingers going to tangle in my hair. 

“You don’t say” 

“I’m not complaining”

“You better not” I laugh, capturing his lips on mine yet again. “Should we finish that computer?” 

“You don’t want to see what else these hands can do?” 

“I’m not saying no to that”

[random-blurbs]

I Can’t Fall In Love

Summary : Screwed over time and time again you swore your heart away from the idea of love. Not realizing how truly weak it is for the genius right in front of you.

"Pen I can't do this anymore! I'm done..." Practically wailing it out you gripped the fluffy little figurine begging for some type of release. "I love you my love but please spare my friend that poor torture." Snatching it from your hands you let you a torturous sigh. Done with simply everything.

"This isn't fair I did so much for him." Penelope motioned to her computer which you waved off. Knowing she's always willing to hack his stuff and leave petty messages behind. You're trying to be above that. Trying really hard at that.

"What did he do this time. I swear all the men you date always are so shady." Taking a deep breath in you know what Pen might do if she finds out. But to be fair she'll always find out some way or another. "He cheated on me...with his sister who I at least thought was his sister. But y'know wasn't." The yell that Penelope let out was loud as she shared your anger now. "He did what!" Nodding painfully as you recount finding them in your house, in the room you pay for, and in the bed, you paid for. It hurts. A lot. "Are you ok though my sweets? I know you're probably angry, but you don't even seem to acknowledge the fact that you can be sad." Was it the profiler in her that her team without realizing instilled into her. Or were you that obvious. It can be both. "I don't know Pen... it's just - I'm tired of being sad men after men." The ache in your heart is there, but that's a can of worms you don't want to open at your workplace. "But I'm going to make this promise to myself to not even dare to ever fall in love!" You said confidently as Penelope couldn't believe a single word you said. She loves you and you know that. But she can also see the avoidant nature you tend to have. Reminding her of a special little someone.

"What if I set you up with someone I know! He's a total catch in the terms of nerdy but still a catch!" Shaking your head you made a loud incorrect buzzer noise. "Nope! Not falling in love! Thank you though for looking out for me. Maybe we can talk about it -" Interrupting your sentence you both heard someone knocking on the door and a head of brown curls peeked his head in. "Um Garcia? Hotch is looking for you." He acknowledged your presence with an awkward smile as he looked at Penelope expectantly. "This is the person I was telling you about. This is our resident boy genius, Spencer Reid! He loves to read books, and I know you do to - you used to play chess in elementary he still plays! And he has an IQ of -!" Putting your hand up to stop Penelope from embarrassing the two of you guys. You waved at Spencer with an awkward smile of your own. Is it obvious Penelope was setting you guys up. Hopefully not.

Considering he's fucking cute. "Y/N. I'm Penelope's friend down at the reception desk." Totally needed to add that part so he can totally not see me there and say hi himself.

"Ah. I'm also Penelope's friend obviously we work in the same team I mean I feel like that's kind of obvious I'm sorry you probably know that. She probably told you if anything not that the-."

"Ok! Um someone is totally not rambling, let's catch up next time ok! You have to tell me what that pathetic little -" Rambling about what she might do to your ex you just let out a short chuckle at her words. Meeting his eyes you gave him a small smile back. "Ok bye you guys! It was nice meeting you Reid." Waving bye at him, he had barely put up his hand when you already walked out.

You can accept a man is cute. He's definitely not your type but he totally can be...

Shaking your head you rushed to your desk hoping your coworker isn't too mad that you left him for a while. Pushing all thoughts of the awkward smiling guy in a locked box.

-

It was weird it's been 3 months since meeting the resident genius of the FBI. And you can't look at him in his stupid eyes. His stupid cute face. When you do run into him it’s very stiff conversation and you hate how it makes your day. And vice versa. You give him energy he thought he couldn’t get. Showing your painfully slow progress sometimes you’re greeted with a cup of coffee. A order he learned through trial and error. But when he saw the smile that was etched into your face as you got your favorite order. He will grow those coffee beans by his own hand if it means seeing you continuously smile like that. He didn’t expect anything in return and you smile every time you think about it. For once nobody expected anything from you.

But when you come you’re reminded of those memories. Memories you wish to burn.

So you've been stuck. To the point where Penelope is checking in on you every day. Encouraging you to go out. Is it worth it?

Staring at the popcorn ceiling it felt weird being all dressed up but feeling nothing. No happiness, no sadness, no more anger. You're just tired. The excessive of beeping on your phone never stops. Maybe that's why your phone is practically dead all the time. Opening it it's the same messages you always see.

Please I'm so sorry I didn't mean it It was one time Just answer your fucking phone y/n stop being stupid just answer your fuc-

Shaking your head you got up to get into your uber that finally arrived. Tired. Blocking this random number again, he never stops. And you don't think he ever will. You haven't told Penelope the excessive messages you know she'll probably cross lines that you really don't want her to do. Trying to gather what social battery you have left to meet her friends. Or well her team.

Entering the surprisingly loud bar, you checked your phone trying to follow her directions. "Y/N!" A muffled voice from afar and you see the excitable blonde. "Come here!" You take in the group beside her. 2 older men who seem to be talking to each other not favoring the club setting that this bar took up. 2 other girls were next to her which you only remember the name of Emily. Not knowing which one is which. And finally, the man you've been avoiding. He's talking to another man who seems to be teasing him. But his brown eyes were meeting yours. Nervous flickering as he listened to his friend but looking at you. And only you. "Hey Pen!" Giving her a hug she does the introductions. It's hard to listen.

Just following Pen's footsteps you listen in to the story they exchange and generally talking about their life. Derek had left to go dance with Penelope, JJ and Emily had also gone to dance with one another. Who you learned was Rossi ended up leaving a little earlier. Seems like Hotch did the same considering you haven't seen him in a while. It's easy to do the math. Taking a sneaky peek next to you, there he was. His leg was bouncing nervously fueling your nerves just the same. The shots at your table are going to waste as you finally grabbed another one. "Y-You might want to slow down." His nervous voice made you pause. Looking over at him confused he cleared his throat. "You already took 3 shots within the hour and a half of being here. Not that I'm telling you what to do exactly. But it's just women tend to get drunk faster and obviously I would have to take into account your height and weight - I-I just want you to be careful." He finished with a stiff nod. Was it three shots already? You feel your phone buzzing into your pocket tiring you again, can't even enjoy a cute guy telling you to be careful. Tilting your head back you finished the shot.

"I'm sorry I'll cut myself off now." Not wanting him to think you're a drunk you took a sip out of your water right after. "It's not that it's just I want you to be careful, that's all." Nodding you guys fell into an awkward silence if you can even call it silence. It's a crime that this bar is basically a club now. "Have you played chess?" Surprising he's still talking to you, kind of scared that he finds you bad company. You nod your head, "Yeah back in elementary in some stupid little team." You chuckled a little at the memory remembering playing against your classmates but totally cheating so we both can get the vouchers. "Not anymore though?" Confirming his question with just a nod it seemed like he was stuck in his thoughts. "Do you play in like tournaments and stuff?" He immediately shook his head. "I only play for fun it's better that way."

"Would you show me how to play again if I ask?" You can see you caught him off guard with the question. Liquid courage as you want to call it. "Not a date obviously but to get to know each other better." He deflated at that. But you weren't able to see that as the phone distracted you when you pulled it out. Maybe it's better this way, he shouldn't test his luck. Maybe just being around you is enough. Considering he noticed the numerous of times you would go the opposite direction if you saw him. Maybe this is enough?

He didn't mean to peek it seems like your limbs didn't want to work with you that well anymore. Letting him take an accidental peek at your phone. Seeing the mass text messages sent to you reading what he can. He was the worst person to see it considering he read it all in practically seconds. But he knows now he doesn't want you to be surrounded with that. He knows you should have more. "We can set up whatever time that's works best for you."

-

Shit shit shit shit shit! Can you really call it a date? I mean you have to at this point. Here you are clothes sprawled all over your room as you tried so many different things. Some were too date-like, some too casual like. Going to watch a Greek play that Reid promised to translate it has to be a date?

Hearing a knock at your door it was pathetic really how you sprinted to it. Opening the door with a grin it quickly diminished seeing who was there. "Why are you so dressed up?" Not wanting to answer him you immediately tried to shut the door before he shoved his foot at the doorstep. Making his way in your eyes carefully watched him. Scared of anything setting him. "Mark what are you doing here?" "I keep on texting you and you refuse to answer." Scoffing you shake your head staring at him with disgust. "I can't believe you. Just get the fuck out. I've already been dealing with your messages for 6 months now! I've shown you kindness by not reporting you!" It was easy to see that he practically ignored your words as you fiddled with the doorknob begging him to leave. Spencer was going to be here at any point. And that weird feeling of embarrassment or even shame was filling you. Ashamed that you still don't have your life together considering your ex is practically being a stalker and you still haven't reported him.

"Y/N I miss you. Please just one more shot swear you won't regret it! C'mon will you really find someone like me?" In awe at his ego, you let out a laugh of disbelief. How the hell did you end up with someone like him. Glad you got out of the shitshow of a relationship you were in.

"Are you fucking laughing at me?" His booming voice is something you don't miss. And it always terrified you. "Obviously because genuinely who the fuck do you think you are."

"You stupid bitch I sw-" Taking huge strides to you, the fear made you want to run. But he was immediately at your side as you tried stumbling away. Feeling his hand wrap around your arm as you winced feeling him tighten it.

"Y/N?" A softer voice was heard just right outside the door. It was still open and you immediately knew it was Spencer. Your savior. Glancing up at your ex you see the anger swirling in his eyes, giving you a accusatory glare.

"Who the fuck are you?" Within a moment Spencer rushed into the apartment almost hitting you and your ex in the process. He was surprised to hear a male voice come from your apartment especially one sounding so hostile. The position you guys were in was everything but normal. You didn't even realize but Spencer can see it. The tears in your eye were welling up and the desperation laced with it, Spencer just can't unsee. "You need to get out." With a firm voice Spencer stayed unmoving as he stared at your ex. Who seemed to be beyond pissed. "Excuse me?" With a swift motion Spencer took out his FBI badge showing it to your ex. "I don't want to repeat myself. I can have you arrested just as quickly so do yourself a favor and leave. " He never really likes using his badge in scenarios out of field. But he knows your ex wouldn't listen otherwise.

Dropping your hand aggressively, Spencer was quickly at your side cradling your arm. The exact opposite of what your ex had done. Giving you one last look he slammed the door shut echoing throughout the apartment.

"Are you ok?" He didn't waste a second as he took extra care of your arm trying to see the extent of it. And it's that damn question, looking down as you tried hiding behind your hair. A very weak attempt. The tear fell unapologetically. All those feelings came out as you ripped your arm away from Spencer. Letting yourself cry into your hands. He didn't know what to do. He was scared that he was going to say the wrong thing. He knows of your situation but he didn't know the extent of it. And he wishes he can take it all away for you. "Do you want a hug?" With tears still streaming down your face, you glanced up at him in confusion. "Reid, you don't even like handshakes... not that I care but I feel like a hug is very out of left field." Agreeing with you immediately he tried not pushing the boundary. "Yeah, obviously germs can be shared especially since you're crying. But you're sad and I want to make you feel better. Even if it means a hug." Tears continue to fall at his sweet words knowing that this is probably something he psyched himself into doing. "If you want, I'll only hug you for a minute?" He motioned you to get closer and it was the most awkward hug you've ever had. But it was the only hug that has made you feel seen, comforted. It's not his favorite thing in his world, but as he caressed your hair letting you cry into his vest that took him too much time to pick out worried, he won't impress you. He didn't mind that the tears were being etched into it as you found comfort in his arms. Thats all he wanted. To be your rock. He might not know everything about you but he's willing to wait around to find out. You make it worth it. Your eyes, your smile, your sarcasm, everything. The fact that you were willing to watch a play you would have no idea what is being said, but willing to indulge into his wants. Thats enough for him.

As the minute went by it became clear that you took more comfort in his arms than he suspected. And he didn't mind as he heard your cries start to quiet down and just the small jumps of your shoulder signifying your calming down. "I'm sorry Spencer... I know you were really excited for the play. But I don't think we can go out anymore...obviously." Pointing at yourself and your wrecked appearance. "It doesn't matter."

"You say they come only every 5 years to perform just go and enjoy it."

"I'm ok we can catch it in the next 5 years we have all the time in the world." He said happily as he looked around your apartment. Entranced by the decorations as everything screamed you. "Is there a movie you want to watch? I can go get us some snacks or maybe order some takeout. You shouldn't waste your outfit." He didn't notice but you were trying your hardest not to cry at his kindness. You can't love him you just can't. You already seen all the men in the world. All they do is hurt you. And your fear of Spencer being one of them is killing you. You can't love him.

"Do you want fast-food or sushi?" It won't hurt to at least have a friend. - "Spence stop!" Giggling you were at the other end of the couch trying not to get caught in his arms. He had his arms out at the other side going left or right trying to catch you. "Say you're sorry then!" Uncontrollably laughing you shake your head between breaths.

"I can't! I won't mean it." Shrieking as he went over the couch to grab you, you run into your kitchen trying to expand the distance between the two of you. It was futile.

Yelling with laughs in between he wrapped his arms around you before swinging you around. "Spence! Please! I'm sorry don't drop me!" You know if he somehow did let you slip, he would immediately use his body as a cushion to soften the blow. That was the kind of man he was. Softly letting you down your laughs mixed with one anothers in a melody only you two can understand and enjoy.

You both were falling for each other. Hard.

It’s the type of feeling where you guys tittered the edge of something more. But you always pulled yourself back. It was the only way where you can breathe in peace. Knowing Spencer won’t have that edge over you, you won’t be vulnerable to him. “Are you going to cook for us again?”

“Obviously - do you not like my cooking or something?” Before he can respond your phone started to buzz. Excessively. “Can you get that for me? It might be Pen telling me about how Kevin is annoying her.” Getting started on dinner you settled with a pasta dish not exactly being a chef.

It was silent for too long as you looked up from the pot of water as his eyebrows were furrowed. Almost as if he was angry. “Spence you good?”

“It’s Mark. I’m going to let Hotch know he broke his restraining order he might have someone that can actually make sure he gets punished.” Mood somewhat dampening you thanked him quietly as you continued dinner. “Don’t overthink it please, You don’t need to worry.” You feel him behind you making you turn around to face him. He brought his hands up caressing your cheek with a content smile. “I swear to you I will make him stop. No matter what I do.”

I like you.

So much.

Those thoughts swirl his head as he stared at your face as your eyes were closed happily.

He wants to give you everything and more. The thought of letting you is too much for him.

-

“And they were roommates…” Penelope said ominously as you pushed her playfully. She giggled as she poked at your sides excitedly. She looked around the room with a bright smile on her face as she took everything in. “I love how you decorated the place obviously this was all you?” Nodding you’re happy that you got creative freedom in decorating - it feels more like home. Home 2.0.

“I brought you guys snacks.” Turning around you see Spencer with a big grin and an equally big bag of treats. “Spencer Reid I swear you are the love of my life.” Grabbing the hefty bag you passed over her snacks. Not realizing the look that Penelope threw at Spencer. Him quickly shushing her as you passed Spencer his snacks. “I need to go already my sweets. Date night I need to be ready!” Saying our byes you pulled Spencer over to the couch getting comfortable.

“You like it?” Motioning to the walls/the general room. “Of course I do. You just have the special touch like this one artist..” He proceeded to compare you to some artist you’ve never heard of but you just loved to hear him talk. “Do you want to lay down?”

It’s routine, asking is just a curtesy. Your head hit his lap comfortably as he positioned the pillows how you liked it.

“Are we going to continue that conversation we were having before she came?” You said looking at him from his lap. He loves how you look from there. Just happy, innocent. He hates to know that your ex took that from you for so long.

Getting more comfortable he cleared his throat knowing he can’t forget the conversation you were just having. “I would never hurt you Y/N.” Already living with each other for a year you guys are finally having that talk. Caressing your cheek like how he always will he admired the face he will be waking up next to. “I know simply saying it won’t take away your fears, but I want to show you. And I will. Because I adore you Y/N. You help me look forward to tomorrow. You give me a drive for us to finish our cases faster so I can get home, to you. And only you.” Smiling softly at him you played with his fingers. Dancing with one another’s hands you admired him. You never thought you could like someone so much. It drives you insane that he’s doing this to you. But you can’t help but be glad that it’s him and no one else.

“Do you swear Spence?”

“Swear on everything.” Kissing your hand softly he helped you sit up as you leaned. He helped you more times you can count. He waited. And waited. Without expecting anything.

You didn’t want to fall in love. Who would? But as you stare at the love-sick fool in front of you. With the dorkiest smile adorning his lips you can’t help but lean in letting your lips press against his. An act of love finalizing what you guys are. Lovers. And you wouldn’t want anything more.

[commodorez]

Tell us, why do you think Commodore failed?

Hoooooo boy... take this with a grain of salt, but here's how I see things based on my incomplete knowledge of the history. I need to do more research on this front, read a few of the books from folks who were there, but here goes nothing:

So, during the calculator wars of the early/mid 1970s, Texas Instruments was knocking competitors out of the game left and right by charging through the nose for the chips they sold. Commodore was one of their customers, and was nearly put out of business as a result. Jack Tramiel's solution was to buy MOS Technologies, effectively putting an end to CBM's reliance on TI's semiconductors because they could suddenly produce their own for much of their big ticket items.

Fast forward to 1981, and Commodore's VIC-20 is in a price war with Texas Instruments' TI-99/4A home computer. Jack kept lowering the price, and TI kept having to do the same to compete, so they were selling at a loss -- against a wildly popular home computer at the time. Jack, ever-vindictive in his motives (business is war, as he liked to say), cut the price of the VIC-20 at a CES show, which killed TI as a competitor in that segment in the market, but he did so at great cost to Commodore.

The way he cut the prices on the VIC also included peripherals, which the various vendors relied on to make their profits. They charged back those losses to Commodore. The result tipped the balance to diminish Jack's position in the company, and Irving Gould ousted him. Jack jumped ship with his sons and went to go work for Atari, selling the ST series machines, which would go on to compete with the Commodore Amiga series.

The problem was that Jack was the big force behind giving the company direction, especially when guiding advertising. The C64 sold itself, which was a blessing and a curse. It meant Commodore never really had to try all that hard to make good ads for it, so when they had to work harder to push later products, they kinda sucked at it. This really hurt the Amiga out of the gate, because nobody knew how to sell this golden child they just acquired, meaning it took many years to find its legs in the market.

Weird side projects continued to build up, and company focus was lost. Engineers churned out some amazing products, but without a guiding force at the top steering the company, and advertising dropping the ball in selling the powerful machines they were creating, the company was already in a slow death spiral. The IBM PC compatibles had already taken hold of much of the market, and were continuing to chip away at Commodore's market share, which wasn't helped by Jack himself fighting the company he founded on the side of Atari. The ST and the Amiga were fighting for the scraps left behind by IBM's juggernaut platform.

Commodore was a dead man walking from the moment Jack just had to get revenge on TI for trying to screw him out of the market in the 70s. It's just that nobody knew what the repercussions would be when he did that...

[byulyi]

a heart's a heavy burden

Agatha All Along Week: Day 5 - Rio gets injured

Summary: Agatha finds out that she is still Rio's emergency contact despite them being divorced. Rating: General Audiences Pairing: Agatha Harkness & Rio Vidal

@agathaallalongweek

"She did what?!" Agatha yelled at the nurse who had just called her in the middle of the night to inform her that her ex-wife had been injured in a bar fight. "You better make sure that she is conscious when I get there because I want her to feel it when I am killing her."

"Ms. Harkness, please, your wife is lucky that she didn't need to have surgery. I understand that you are angry but…"

"Oh, she is my ex-wife. I guess she didn't bother changing her emergency contact."

"We can call someone else."

"No, don't bother. I am already awake now, aren't I? I'll be there."

With that Agatha ends the call and for a moment she considers throwing her phone against the wall. Two months since their divorce and Rio had nothing better to do than to fuck with her life even further? Screw her.

She makes a point of pushing one of Rio's potted plants to the ground as she enters her apartment before stomping over to her bedroom. Mountains of clothes scattered all over the floor greet her. Apparently, she hadn't been able to decide on an outfit for the evening or she just stopped caring about keeping things tidy after Agatha moved out.

Agatha throws the doors of Rio's closet open and grabs a few pairs of sweatpants and shirts to toss into the suitcase she had brought with her. Knowing Rio, she hadn't bothered with buying her own set yet.

In the drawers she finds some underwear, socks, and unfortunately also her collection of sex toys. She slams the drawer shut again immediately, not wanting to be reminded of the times they were making very thoroughly use of them together.

The next annoyance of the night jumps into her eye as she looks at Rio's desk. Next to her two computer screens is a framed photo of Agatha grinning into the camera. A horrible picture in her opinion, but Rio had insisted on keeping it on her desk as she worked from home most of the time.

She takes the frame into her hands, torn between taking it with her or just tearing the picture in it apart. Agatha does neither of these things. Instead, she puts it back into its spot and leaves the room.

In the kitchen she finds Rio's phone charger and a picture of them both hanging on the fridge.

For someone who hadn’t even bothered with saying a word to her when they left the courthouse after finalizing their divorce she sure had an awful lot of reminders of their time together in the apartment. 

At the hospital she waltzes to the front desk, flicks her hair over her shoulder and glares at the young man occupying it.

"I am looking for Rio Vidal."

"Are you a rela-"

"I am her wife for god's sake. Just tell me where I can find her and you might get to live to see the end of your shift."

"Or I call the security because you just threatened me."

"Do you think this is your lucky day…" she takes a look at his name tag. "Billy? Really? Do your parents hate you?"

"Why are you so bitchy?" He asks, just as snappy.

"Because I was woken up in the middle of the night with the information that my wife was injured and I would like to go and see her now before I will grab your skinny ass and wipe the floor with it," she explains with a wide and predatory smile. Why was this boy trying to make her life harder than it already was?

"Fine! Jeez." He types something into the computer in front of him and almost takes a little too long for Agatha's liking. "Third floor, room 243. Please never talk to me again."

"I won't try to make it a habit, Bucky."

"It's Billy!" He calls after her.

"I don't care, Bobby!"

She hesitates a moment before softly knocking at the door. There's no reply but she enters anyway.

Rio looks terrible. Her left eye is basically swollen shut, there’s a stitched up wound on her cheek-bone and Agatha can tell there’s more blemishes on her body by the way she winces as she sits up in her bed.

“Agatha?”

"What happened?"

"I was out with Alice and Jen. Some dude didn't like it when they kissed."

"And you picked a fight."

"Damn right I did. He was bigger and meaner but I got him better.” She grins. Agatha wants to wipe it off her face. "Thank you for coming."

"Didn't have much of a choice, did I?"

"Changing my emergency contact wasn't really my first priority after everything.”

"True, your first priority was getting drunk and then sending me tons of messages with insults of varying degrees.”

"Agatha, come on. The divorce wasn't really a fair process.”

“If you wanted a fair divorce you should have considered talking to me first before handing me the papers."

"I thought it was for the best."

"You sure did." She regards Rio for a moment. Their relationship always had their highs and lows but the day Rio gave her both her engagement and wedding ring back would forever be one of the worst ones in her life. "I am leaving. There is everything you will need for a few days in the suitcase. Keep the damn thing and change your emergency contact. Best delete my number while you are at it.” She puts the key to Rio’s apartment on the small table next to her bed.

"Agatha."

"Bye."

"Agatha, please wait."

She reaches for the door.

"I love you."

"You forced me away by insisting on divorcing me without giving us the chance to work it out. I have a very hard time to see how this is supposedly love.

"I was scared after almost losing you.”

“So you sent me through hell to actually lose me but on your terms?” Agatha has a hard time keeping her voice down. “Do you know how fucked up that is?!”

“Yes. I am sorry. I am so fucking sorry.”

She looks at her, sees the woman she had vowed to love and protect long before they had even considered getting married, sees that same woman literally beaten down and crying.

Agatha knows better than to return to someone out of pity. She doesn’t pity Rio. She had gotten herself into all these messes.

“I’m glad you’re sorry. You should be.”

She knows Rio is broken down now - miserable and in pain. She’s looking past Agatha.

“Do you want me to get a nurse?”

Rio shakes her head. “Can you just sit with me?”

Agatha wordlessly takes off her coat, exposing the shirt she had been wearing to sleep.

One of Rio’s. Some way for her to stay connected to the woman she loved – despite it all.

If Rio notices she doesn’t comment on it. She mumbles a thank you when Agatha is settled into a chair a few steps away from the bed.

Agatha watches over her in silence. She’s watching over her when she drifts to sleep and she’s watching over her when a nurse comes to check in on her. They don’t try to send her away.

Only when the sun begins to rise and she can barely keep her eyes open anymore Agatha shifts. She gets up and moves the chair to the side of the bed before sitting down again.

Rio remains asleep when Agatha slips a hand into hers.

To hell and back.

[dkisms]

Warrior

Wonwoo x afab!reader /// enemies to lovers /// 5k words /// smut

You’ve hated Wonwoo’s guts for most of your esports career. He’s always targeted you, and you’ve had enough. 

      If one person on planet Earth hates Jeon Wonwoo, it’s you. In fact, that’s how you feel right now, with the stupid little grin on his stupid face looking at you from across the stage, brow arched at you. He’s teasing you for sure, and the bright red ‘LOSE’ on the stage above you does absolutely nothing to change that.

      You honestly had no idea when Wonwoo started to act like this. As a woman on an esports team for League, you’ve always been careful of every move you’ve made. Two years ago, you joined ASTAR, much to the disappointment of many in the world. In fact, Wonwoo had been kind to you previously, going on stream many times to express how women belonged in the sport, and how he was excited to game with you.

At least, that was what you thought. 

      Now, every single time you play, either practice or in comp, your screen stains black and white, now matter what you do. Every move? Wonwoo’s there. Switch to top? So is he. At this point, even your team starts to feel bad for you. In any regular match against any other team, no one can beat your Seraphine (or fiddlesticks, if feeling frisky). 

      Your team captain gets up before you, patting your head. As much as it seems comforting, the steam coming from your ears and the blood boiling in your veins has yet to cease. You exhale loudly, getting up to follow your team. The next ten minutes go by in a blur, with the manager asking the team about the matches while heading to the bus, barely a blink coming from your face. 

      Even when you got to your base, all you could do was trudge to your dorm, and get in bed, wallowing in silence. The notification you got on your phone made you feel even worse, seeing your teammates go to stream and talk about the matches. To them, it wasn’t a bad loss, with Wonwoo’s team, JACKL, being number one in the country, and the easy contender to worlds, but it didn’t make the loss any easier.

      Your phone dinged with a text from your friend. ‘He’s talking about you.�� Was all it read, and it took everything in your soul to not throw the phone across the room, opting to open Wonwoo’s stream instead.

“We don’t bash other teams.” Was the only thing you heard as the stream loaded out of the advertisement, Wonwoo spinning back and forth on his chair as he read his comments.

“Are they as good as my team? No. JACKL is number one for a reason right now. However, they’re one of the best teams I’ve played against in years. Their mid showed mine how you can’t screw around in a match and expect them to not crush you into the dirt. My support had to pretty much solo heal them. Not great, but he’s gonna work on it.”

      Wonwoo rolled his eyes, brushing his newly silver hair out of his face. He chuckled at a few comments that came in, eyeing one from an international fan.

“Yes, I did go after their support. They rely on her too much on bot lane, and can’t protect her. If they leave her open, it’s my job to go after-”

      You killed the stream immediately after, the familiar anger coming back out. ‘Fuck Jeon Wonwoo, and fuck his team,’ you thought, throwing your phone onto the bed, and heading over to your computer, turning it on. As much as bed therapy helps, the fury in your bones could only be solved by crushing as many people as physically possible in the game, and enjoying the cheez-its you had left. Unfortunately for you, the stupid game hates you, and you nearly just decided to evaporate from the planet entirely seeing your team.

JAKCL_EveryWonwoo was on your team.

Jeon Wonwoo was on your fucking team!

      It seems he noticed as well, as the chat started to roll through his messages at an alarming rate. 

‘Boba???? ASTAR_BobA???’

‘Good to see you again, BobA!’

‘Are you my support??? This is crazy’

‘Yes, I’m your support. Now hurry and pick’ You wrote back, cooling down. The game loaded in, and you picked the route farthest away from Wonwoo. If you had to play with him, you refused to be near him only if necessary, and maybe let him die a couple times. Maybe.

     As much as you hated Wonwoo, he was fucking good. Way too good at this damn game, with the amount of times he saved your ass. The bot lane was pretty much useless, leading you to have to take over, and he pretty much took over the south side of the jungle with you, killing as many as he could. The pretty 15/2/18 was growing by the second on your leaderboard, and his 28/6/13 made the two of you look like you were dancing with each other on the field as you finished the match, a ghost of a grin on your face. It was quickly removed, however, when you got a message outside of the match. 

JACKL_EveryWonwoo has sent you an invitation. 

     Against every bone in your body screaming at you not to accept, you had to. What better way to learn how he plays than to play with him? Right? You even checked, he’s not streaming. You let out a sigh, making sure your headset mic was working, and joined the group. 

“I wasn’t too sure you’d accept.” Wonwoo teased, the grin in his voice easily apparent. 

“Had to get my mic.” You said, watching him change to a casual lobby.  

“Mmm,” He said, hitting the queue. “You did good today.” 

“Sure,” You said, clear in your voice that you didn’t want to talk about it. “So, why invite me?” 

“I’m trying to show you that your team is taking advantage of you.” Wonwoo said, picking his character with you, and choosing to go bot lane. 

“Listen, I don’t need you bashing my team, okay? We did what we could.” You snapped. 

“I’m not bashing them. Yet. But I promise, you’re worth more than you think.” He said, shutting up as the game started. 

     While Wonwoo wasn’t… great at bot lane, he definitely kept up. In fact, he was shockingly right about your team. He was taking bullets and arrows with every match you played, and for hours, had you questioning your team’s plays. At four A.M., when he ended the matches, he sat with you in silence as you looked over match replays. 

“Listen, don’t take it to heart. Just understand you might have to rework some stuff. I know your coach is retiring, so next year, you can work with the new one to find out about plays, okay?” He said. 

“Yeah,” you said, voice dry. “I’m hopping off. Have a good night.” 

“Night.” 

——///——

     You groaned at the buzzing of your phone, reaching over to grab it, and rubbing your eyes. The yell you let out seeing the 250+ notifications decorating your screen could have woken up anyone sleeping. JACKL_EveryWonwoo follows you, tagged you in a video, tagged you in a picture… the notifications kept going late into the morning, clearly after you had fallen asleep. The first was a picture of your characters emoting, one you had sent to him as a joke. Every video after that was VOD’s of every match you had, and the comments were endless. 

‘She’s actually so good. Does her team just suck?’

‘He works well with her. If I was JACKL, I’d be calculating offers.’

‘I knew he was going after her for a reason. Man’s knew she held the team together’

     As much as you could keep reading the comments to inflate your ego, you were NOT excited for the upcoming PR nightmare, especially with the lineups for the upcoming tournament to be announced this week. Knowing the industry, your team would be out in seconds with them Matching ASTAR and JACKL. 

     Your phone ringing broke you from your spiraling anxiety, with your friend’s picture on screen. You pressed the accept button, only for a piercing scream to nearly blow your ear drums. 

“What. The. Fuck?!” Avia shrieked. “Why are you all over his Twitter?! I thought you hated him!”

“I do,” You said, exasperated. “He wanted to show me my team sucked at protecting me when I was vital to the lineup. He did.”

“I know, ASTAR is getting lamblasted on every media site, it’s hilarious. Your teammates are… trying to defend themselves,” She said, as you heard a knock on the door. 

     You ended the call, and opened your door to see your manager, who requested a statement about the play from the previous game. After a quick tweet, most of the internet was cooling off. 

“So, we have a practice match,” Your manager said, pulling out a clipboard, as he walked with you downstairs to the rest of the group, already playing. “JACKL.” 

     You turned, startled, pausing before you sat down. “Is that really okay? After the Twitter BS?” 

“We have no choice. We planned this weeks ago,” the manager said, and you just sat quietly, while they set up the custom matches. 

     At the start of the match, you knew it was going to be horrible. If your team was a little turned around during the first tournament, then this was like a tornado going off. In fact, it pissed you off more when Wonwoo immediately killed you. Actually, you barely remember a time you were alive, if any. At the end of the match, you were so pissed off, you shut yourself into your own room, pissed.

—-///—-

     The moment the tournament matchups were announced a few days later, the stress in your body melted. Thankfully, JACKL were in the other side of the bracket, arguably harder than yours. Thankfully, this seemed to have also motivated your team, and within a few practice matches, they were back in order. 

“Wake up!” The manager called, hopping onto the bus. “First match of the playoffs. I didn’t want to talk about this here, but I believe this is the best place for it. Listen… the company is gonna have to make changes if we don’t win. They don’t know if they want to keep everyone, or if they want to dissolve. Either way, you’ll be contacted shortly about your contract.” He said, clearing his throat. 

“Seriously?!” Her mid laner said. “Dude- I can’t fucking believe this shit.”

     The rest of the drive was relative silence from the group. Many wondered where they’d go, and you were no exception. The skin around your nails was raw by the the time you got to your locker room, filled with an ice cold fear of your future. The manager tried to comfort everyone as much as he could, up until your team took the stage. 

     The ice hardened into a lump in your stomach, one made even worse as you looked around at the crowd. Signs were decorating the audience, and you nearly choked on your own spit, seeing JACKL front row.

“Why the fuck are they here?” The top lane called over the headsets, your team agreeing. 

“No fucking clue,” You said. “Watching us, I guess? To be fair, the news of a team revamp got put out. Maybe seeing if they can steal anyone.” 

     The midlaner just nodded in response, as the signal for the match to start was activated, and bans were chosen quickly. 

“Going Senna,” you called, setting up a protect strategy. 

     The game was one of the longest you’ve had, knowing how intense team emotions were. After the first victory round, you ran up and down the hall stairs to gain some energy, and the second match was a breeze. Against your wishes, however, after your matches, you were stuck front row watching JACKL. 

“They’re fucking good,” Your manager said, eyeing the plays. It was annoying, and to be honest, seemed a little showy. 

      At the end of the first match, the smirk Wonwoo gave you was enough to make you glare, knowing exactly what he was playing at. He was showing off at this point, and trying to get your attention. With the amount of times he had looked over in your direction, you were starting to get pissed off, and the manager was starting to notice. 

“You really made him mad, hm? Play a practice match or something?”

“No. He’s fucking irritating, though.” You said, and your coach perked up. 

“It reminds me of my neighbor’s kid. Idiot thought being an ass was his way of flirting. Y’know, messing with your crush…?” He trailed off, seeing your face. “Nevermind.”

“Don’t even,” You said, getting up. “I’m going to the bathroom.”

      As you wandered into the player halls, after refusing to use the public restroom seeing the lines, you were sharply stopped by Jeon Wonwoo running into you.

“Ah, the golden girl! I wanted to see you today.” He said, a grin lighting up his face. 

“Can I help you?” You asked, with pursed lips. 

“Yeah. You see my match? It was pretty fucking good.” He said, teasing. “Y’know, if you joined my team, you’d get the same treatment. Princess and all.”

      Your eyes narrowed as you scoffed. “As if, Jeon Wonwoo. Let me be straight with you. I don’t like you. You bash my time, try to steal me from my group, and post matches without my permission, which, mind you, had audio. If I said anything iffy, it would be a PR nightmare. Not only that, but it already was! My team had to make a statement twice. Now, I don’t know why the hell you keep messing with me, but I’ve had enough, seriously. I’m unable to do my job in any sense of the word. I know my teammates aren’t doing great, they’re at retirement age and are injured half the time, but I don’t want to hear about it. Enough.” You snapped, finally feeling some weight off your chest. All Wonwoo could do was stand silently, swallowing roughly at the words, as you sped walked off in another direction, away from him.

—-////—-

     A week later, you finished your second match. To be honest, your conversation with Wonwoo had lit a fire, making you push to prove your team wasn’t useless, in anyone’s eyes. You dropped your headset onto the table, quickly exiting the stage, not wanting to talk to anyone, until you were stopped by the manager, and another woman. 

“Hi. I’m Sasha, I work for ASTAR’s main offices. I wanted to talk to you about your work on the team.” She said, and the both of you quickly headed into a small meeting room.

“Now, I understand you’ve played with us for a year, at most. Unfortunately, you’ve seen us quite vulnerable this year,” She said, laughing. “I’ll be honest with you. Your bottom laner and jungler are retiring, and I’m only resigning you and the mid laner, if you’re willing. I already have next year’s team set, and contracts sent out for future prospects. I’m willing to offer you a salary increase, if you’ll have it.”

“I’d love to rejoin.” You said, and she quickly slid a contract, letting you read over it. “I’ve sent it to the company’s lawyers, so you can sign within the week. We won’t announce it until after the tournament ends.”

“Yes ma’am,” You said, smiling at the paper. 

At least Jeon Wonwoo can’t fuck this up.

—-////—-

      Two weeks later, you sat in the locker room, biting your nails, watching a random band play on the tv before the tournament final was to go. Your team had taken the cake on the left side of the bracket, but that left you with only one team left to go, and you weren’t sure if you even had a chance.

JACKL.

      You took a deep breath, centering yourself. You were oddly calm going into it, knowing you still had a future with the team, but were still stressed. As you took a final sip of your drink, you headed to the stage, only to be met with Wonwoo’s piercing eyes, and a shit eating grin. 

     Well, fuck. There goes your screen time, was all you could think, scowling at him, and opting to set up. The keyboard glowed as you clicked away, checking the mouse, and remained silent as the announcers droned on about the game, and every playstyle, the crowd roaring at the game. You picked your character after the bans, quickly making it onto the field, and the bottom lane. 

“We gotta be careful this round,” You said, moving back and forth. “They’re heavy on movement. If you see something, say something.”

“Got it,” Your midlaner said, as the game quickly began. 

      As the game stretched out, Wonwoo was noticeably gone. Before you could even note he must have listened to you, your screen turned gray, and you looked to see Wonwoo had killed you. Looking over to him across the stage, he didn’t return your stare, only smiling at the game, as you huffed. 

      The first match carried deep into a match against the dragons, but as much as you hoped you could keep up, Wonwoo stole nearly every dragon on the field, leading your team to play a losing game of catch up, until the match ended. 1-0 rang out on every screen as the crowd cheered for the other team, and you quickly headed off stage to recoup with your team.

      The second match was a turnover, however, as your toplane deployed a new strategy of killing Wonwoo from a distance before he could ever get to you, leading your group to come out on top in this match, and for you to grin brightly.

“One left, boys!” You called, high fiving your team, and sticking your tongue out at Wonwoo, who could only shake his head at your antics.

      The arena darkened with lights, as you sat down at your computer. The technology around you glowed with light, and your fingers almost felt as if they were pulsing with energy, as you made your final round bans and picks. 

      As you started the round, you opted to play as safe as possible in the start, gaining money. At one point, you were shocked, as you managed to kill Wonwoo, who eyed you from across the arena, daring you to try again. Again, you did.

      If when you played together previously, it looked like dancing, this looked like war. You didn’t even care about the majority of the others, knowing they’d be fine, instead opting to go after the star player on the team. You and your bot lane pushed against Wonwoo, quickly taking him down time after time, until the first dragon appeared, and your own jungler lost it to their mid lane.

      Around this time, you were positive the game was over. Wonwoo quickly turned the match on your head, giving back everything you were given, and then some. The match was going downhill, and nothing could stop them, as they approached your base, the familiar black and white screen turning red, as you lost the final match. 

      You let out a shaky breath, watching JACKL jump around in victory, and heading over to give you all a handshake, and your team quickly exited the stage, heading back to the locker room. A few members quickly left, but you opted to take a few interviews about your team, to help your fans stay calmer, promising victory next year. 

      After what felt like an eternity of interviews and pictures, you notice quite a few members of JACKL as they greet you, heading back home to their friends and family. You said goodbye to the others in your team, returning to the quiet locker room to grab your bag, only turning around at the sound of the door softly closing, seeing Wonwoo.

“Congrats,” You said, honestly. “As fucking annoying as it is to not be able to play much, you did your best.”

“Thank you.” Wonwoo said. 

“But seriously? Pretty fucking annoying to be killed all the time. Don’t do it again next year.” You said, heading to the door, only for him to block it right in front of you.

“I know it’s annoying. Got a little feel of it today from you, to be honest.”

“Then why the hell do you do it so much?” You asked, exasperated.

“Honestly?” Wonwoo said, eyes scanning your face, the silence growing. “You’re really fucking hot when you’re pissed off.”

“I’m… sorry?” You asked, eyes blinking at him, bag falling off your shoulder.

      Wonwoo moved closer to you, making you back up against the door. He let out a soft sigh, scanning your face, as he leaned in towards you.

“The first match I played against you, your teammate got you killed. I saw you curse him out over and over, and the angrier you got, I liked it,” he said, fixing your hair. “So, ever since then, I couldn’t help but piss you off.”

“Are- are you serious? You have to be joki-” You were cut off as Wonwoo kissed you quickly to shut you up.

“I wouldn’t do that if I was joking.” He said, ears red.

      For a second, everything clicked into place. The first match you ever had with JACKL should have been a tell from the beginning. Your bot lane had made a stupid decision, not checking the grass next to you before letting you go in, and had instantly got you and him killed. You had been pissed beyond belief after he had promised he checked everything, and you had reamed him out for an hour over it during and after the game. Wonwoo had been watching you, in shock, and you thought he was being annoying when he killed you again, and suddenly started killing you every chance he got.

Jeon Wonwoo wasn’t being a dick.

No, it turns out he was just horny.

      Something in your brain fizzled out, and you honestly couldn’t think anymore, as you reached up behind his neck, pulling him back down to meet your lips. Wonwoo tasted like the stupidly sweet lollipops he always ate before a match, and always used to tease you with. You supposed they held a different meaning to you, now, as his tongue licked your lips to kiss you deeper. His hands pulled your waist closer, dangerously close to your ass.

      You weren’t sure how much time had passed before he had completely given in to grab your ass, muttering for you to jump. You hopped straight up, and wrapped your legs around his waist, and he carried the two of you from the doorway over to the couch on the other side of the room, dumping the two of you onto it. 

“Hey,” Wonwoo said, hands on your hips, looking more at your lips than your eyes. “If you want to stop here, I’ll get it. But you’ve gotta let me know now.”

“Jeon Wonwoo, if you stop now, I’ll actually hate you for the rest of my life.” You said, and Wonwoo laughed, reaching up to take off his glasses, and setting them on a nearby table, before leaning down to kiss you again. 

     The grip on your thighs felt like fire, and you couldn’t help but let out a whimper as he moved to attach his lips to your neck, sucking a spot where your jaw meets your neck. You felt painfully aware of the heat growing in your stomach, letting your fingers move to his hair to lightly tug, keeping yourself grounded. 

     Wonwoo’s hips pressed into yours, and his fingers moved from your hips up your shirt. You lifted up your back as he yanked your shirt off, leaning back to take his off. You oogled him for a good minute, opting to run your fingers down his abs. 

“Enjoying the view?” Wonwoo teased, and you nodded, playfully licking your lips.

 “Who said video game nerds can’t be fit?” You teased. 

      He chose to ignore your comments, instead moving to remove your bra, and tossing it somewhere else in the room.

“Good thing I locked the fucking door.” He said, mouth moving to kiss down your neck, to your chest.

      The moment his lips met your nipple, you let out a breathy moan. His hand met the waistband of your shorts, and he gave you a second before moving further, hand reaching to cover your mound. 

“Tell me to stop if you don’t like it.” He said, and seconds later, his fingers were plunging into your core.

      The two fingers within you felt like heaven, while his thumb moved in circular ministrations along your sensitive bud. The heat grew in your belly with every movement, and Wonwoo was forced to cover your mouth.

“Listen, I’m all for you being loud any other time, but I don’t want to get caught.” Wonwoo said. “Be quiet, or I’ll have to quiet you.” He warned, and you nodded.

      The fogginess in your brain grew, and heat coiled in your belly, letting out a warning whimper to Wonwoo, who quickly removed his hand, licking at his fingers. You would’ve thought that was the hottest thing ever, except for the empty feeling in your belly making you irritated instead. 

“What the fuck, Wonwoo.” You said, irritated.

“I’ll let you come on my fingers any day, but I’d rather the first time you do be with me in you.” He said, and your face reddened at the raunchy statement coming from his lips.

      Instead of letting you say anything, Wonwoo lifted your hips to remove your shorts and underwear in one fell swoop, eyeing your soaked core, as he removed the rest of his clothes.

“Hate me this, hate me that, but you’re soaked,” Wonwoo teased, pulling your hips closer to his. “Last time to back out, mortal enemy.”

“Wonwoo, please,” You said, long past annoyed, and more desperate to come. “I will find anyone in this building if you don’t fuck me now.”

     His eyes glinted at the challenge, and slowly pushed into your core. He let out a groan as he bottomed out, feeling you pulse around him. Once you gave the go ahead, Wonwoo began his slow movements in and out of your core, the sounds you made egging him on.

“Wonwoo, deeper, please.” You begged.

Wonwoo obliged to your begging, shifting your hips to hit deeper, and pulling you into a deep kiss to keep you quiet.

 “Wonwoo, I’m so close, please don’t stop.” You begged in his ear.

      The breathy moans in your ear weren’t doing anything to help the heat in your core, and the cord was threatening you, ready to snap. His hip movements grew sloppy as he moved to hold your hips in place, and one final thrust from Wonwoo had you seeing stars, and biting at Wonwoo’s hand over your mouth as you came, Wonwoo letting out a moan as he came, filling you. His body felt shaky as he pulled out of you, moving over to a table to grab a tissue, and cleaning up the mess before any of the couch stained.

      He pulled on his clothes as you got up, looking around for your clothes, and he helped you get ready, in majority silence. Before you looked for your bag, however, he stopped you. 

“I understand if I’ve turned you away from me from my shitty actions. To be honest, I’d probably feel the same, but I really do like you, and I mean it. I didn’t want to fuck you to take any advantage.” He said, nervous.

“Wonwoo, please, calm down. You may have been annoying, but you’re not a shit person. I know you didn’t hook up with me just to hook up,” You said, handing him his glasses to put on. “Um. I’m not terribly good at this, but I’d be willing to continue this… something, or whatever it is, if you want. Serious or not.” You said, and he beamed up at you, and you felt your heart squeeze.

     He nodded, and grabbed your bag for you. “Let’s go, then.” He said, unlocking the door for you, and heading with you to your car.

—-////—-

      The sucker in your mouth did nothing to calm your nerves, as you texted Wonwoo. After your escapade, you and him had a very private don’t-tell-anyone set up, not wanting anyone to fuck with the two of you. It worked for the better, as Wonwoo was able to sign with a new team with a big buck contract, even if it was going to be away from you. To be honest, you didn’t care about being public, and neither did he. Were you sometimes jealous of attention? Yes. Did the pictures and videos you saved from fans help? Also yes. To be fair, though, he was in your bed, not theirs, and it was victory enough.

      The manager ran over to you to knock you out of your thoughts, gushing about the new team setup, and how the world wasn’t ready. Your message to Wonwoo remained on delivered as you spun in your chair, anxiety rising. To be honest, you were starting to get worried, as you stressed, as you tapped away mindlessly on your keyboard.

      You sighed at the delivered on text, again, as you heard a ruckus growing in the entry of the dorms. Not dealing with that, you thought, until a hand on your chair stopped you from turning, and your sucker was ripped from your mouth. You turned to yell at whomever was next to you, only to freeze, seeing Wonwoo stick it into his mouth.

“What the fuck…?” You trailed off, as your manager came over. 

“Oh! Glad you’re getting settled in, Wonwoo,” He said, and turned to you. “Our new jungler!” 

      You nodded to the manager in shock, and Wonwoo held a shit eating grin on his face as he stared at you the whole time, and winked at you. You slowly put your headset back on as the manager requested a quick game, and nearly jumped out of your skin when you felt Wonwoo touch your hand quickly, grinning at his screen, as the game started.

No, you didn’t hate Jeon Wonwoo, but he was absolutely going to be the death of you.