#The Office fic

[prettyyoungandbored]

I Wanna See You - Danny Cordray

Pairing: Danny Cordray x Fem!OC

Author’s Note: Oop I did it again.

NOT MY GIF

Rays of the Saturday morning sun blinded Tessa as she grumbled awake.

She looked over to see Danny fast asleep beside her. Memories from last night flooded into her mind.

Public School was flooded with people. The people from the office who showed up were Andy, Oscar, Meredith, Erin, Gabe, Kevin, Ryan, Kelly, and Phyllis who went with her husband, Bob Vance of Vance Refrigerations.

She was relieved the camera crew didn’t show up, despite Danny inviting them.

She greeted her co-workers briefly before making her way to the bar. She made her way through the crowd, keeping an eye out for Danny. She spotted him on the other side of the bar helping one of the bartenders. He wore a flannel shirt over a grey tee.

She made her way to his side of the bar and gently slapped the table.

“Hey Cordray!” she called out.

How he heard her over the blaring music and crowd was beyond her, but sure enough he turned to her and grinned.

He leaned on the bar. “Nice of you to show up.”

“Well, I was promised some Looney Tunes but all I see are some stupid sports games,” she replied. “So, I don’t know how long I’ll be here.”

He tilted his head. “Let me show you something.”

She pushed through the crowd again to meet him near the entrance to what was behind the bar. He pointed ahead.

“This way,” he directed.

She followed him into the pool room where on the television was an old episode of Looney Tunes.

“I told you,” he remarked.

She grinned ear-to-ear, nodding in approval. “It’ll do.”

She pulled up a seat at a nearby high table. Danny leaned on the table.

“What do you want to drink?” he asked.

“Mojito.”

“Stay right here.”

She contemplated whether or not she should stay in his bed any longer, fearing regret of any kind. She wanted to stay, but she remembered who he was.

Still, the sheets were comfy and he was awfully warm.

She laid her head back down and closed her eyes, figuring she’d go back to sleep and deal with it later. Just as she closed her eyes, she felt a weight wrap around her waist and a soft touch on her bare shoulder. Her back was met with a warmth as small breaths his the back of her head.

“Stay,” he whispered, nuzzling his nose in the crook of her neck. “I’ll make you breakfast.”

She froze in his embrace, wondering if he was sleep talking or if he was actually awake.

“I’ll take that as a yes?” he pressed.

She turned her head and sure enough, both eyes were wide open.

“I can stay for breakfast,” she said. “What are you making?”

She turned her body over to face him as Danny pulled her close to his chest. His nose nuzzled against hers.

“I make the best French toast,” he mumbled.

“Oh?”

He hummed in response, his lips grazing over hers.

“I guess I could stay for a taste,” she whispered.

She closed her eyes as his lips grazed over hers. It felt almost exactly like their first kiss.

“Can I ask you something?” she inquired.

They were sitting on the empty back patio outside the bar. They moved there after Kevin and Andy began hounding them in the pool room.

“Go for it,” Danny replied.

“What made you not want to be tied down?”

“My dad worked in an office and he hated every minute of it. Always had something negative to say. I just never wanted to be like that. Plus, you know, I like traveling so I figured I’d might as well get paid to do so.”

“Where does the bar factor in it?”

He shrugged. “Just a dream my buddies and I had. Some of our best memories happened at bars and we figured we have our own. My buddy, Pete, is the manager but we all step in and help.”

“Like bartending?”

“Yup. I did it in college and was pretty good at it.”

“You do make a damn good mojito.”

“Glad you like it.” He paused. “Can I ask you something now? Why have you stayed at Dunder Mifflin this long? Don’t get me wrong, it seems like a decent gig. But still, it’s definitely…something.”

She nodded her head. “I actually like the people. Yeah, they’re weird and some of them are a pain in the ass, but I like being around them. They make work more tolerable. Once you get to know them more, you’ll see what I mean.”

She pulled her lips back. “It was really nice of you to invite everyone.”

“Yeah, I’m glad they came out.” He paused. “I’m also glad you came out tonight.”

“I am too,” she agreed. “I told you dorks were pretty fun.”

He cracked an embarrassed smile. “Yeah, I deserved that one.”

“For what it’s worth, Pam encouraged me to come tonight,” she said. “She thought your apology was genuine enough. It also might have helped that you wrote my name for the costume contest.”

“I told you you had my vote,” he reminded her.

She pursed her lips, nodding. “You did.”

Their eyes met, staying on each other for a moment as the sounds of the other bar patrons inside and Better Than Ezra’s “Good” faded out.

His finger lifted her chin up as his lips press against hers, giving her the sweetest kiss she’d ever had in her life.

And yet, it left her wanting more.

=======================================

“Ok, this is some excellent French toast,” she complimented.

“I told you,” he remarked, sipping his coffee.

She wiped her mouth with a napkin and leaned back in the chair. “Let me get this straight - you’re good at sales, you’re good at making drinks, you’re good at kissing, you’re good at sex, AND you’re good at French toast. What can’t you do?”

He chuckled. “That’s nice of you, but could you elaborate on the good sex part?”

“No, I’m being serious,” she continued. “Like what can’t you do?”

He thought for a moment before setting down his coffee. “I can’t come up with a clever way of asking to see you again.”

Her jaw dropped. “Are you kidding me? Danny…seriously?”

He shrugged. “It was worth a shot.”

She leaned on the table. “You really wanna see me again?”

He nodded. “You free tonight?”

“Not anymore apparently,” she answered.

[raviposting]

Helloooo friends! I finished my Oscar/Andy fic and will be posting it sometime this week. I know this is a asdfjkl small ship so if anyone wants to be tagged in the fic please comment or like (or otherwise let me know lol) this post for when I post it. :)

This is a roughly 12k fic and spans the entirety of The Office timeline/canon events through an Oscar/Andy lens!

A snippet of the beginning of the fic below:

March 25, 2005

"All right, uhh, Oscar," the interviewer - Steven, Oscar thought his name was - said, looking down at his paper. "We're just going to ask you a few questions that we're asking everyone, get to know you a little, that sort of thing. How about you introduce yourself, let us get to know you?" 

"Sure," Oscar said. "I am Oscar Martinez, I am an accountant, I work with Kevin Malone and Angela Martin." 

"That's great," Steven said, although Oscar noted that he seemed less than riveted by Oscar's answer. "But we want to know about you. Do you have any hobbies? Anyone you're seeing?" 

"I love to read, my book club and I meet up every Thursday to go over classic literature, and...no," Oscar said. "No, I don't have a girlfriend," he clarified, trying to ignore the guilt that was making its way up inside him, as if it were bile. 

But it wasn't a lie, not technically. It was just...electing to not state the full truth. This documentary probably wasn't going to air - who would want to watch a documentary about a failing paper company anyway? - but at the very least, they may show it to the office and he did not want their reactions to "Yes, actually, the man in my book club, Gil? I'm pretty sure we're hitting on each other and I think I'm going to have sex with him tonight. By the way, I think I may be gay." 

Kelly would probably shout and scream, "Oh my god, Oscar, that's so cute!" Jim and Stanley would probably ignore the comment, save for raised eyebrows that probably meant very different things to both of them. Michael - oh god, Michael - his reaction alone was why nobody in the office would ever find out, and it was thinking of Michael Scott that let Oscar squash his rising guilt. 

Steven didn't seem to notice this mini-battle that Oscar had just won. He was back at his paper, jotting down a few notes. "Okay, and how about relationships here? Who's your closest friend in the office?" 

Oscar thought. "Well, there was Tom, I suppose, but he well...you know," he trailed off, and though Steve didn't say anything, Oscar saw his eyes light up with interest, because Oscar had said the trigger word.

[femininomen0n]

The Times They Are A-Changin': A Post-Apocalyptic Office AU

Rating: Mature Pairings: Jim/Pam, Erin/Pete, Dwight/Angela Warnings: non-graphic violence, mentions of death, injury, and assault, general post-apocalyptic misery. Warnings are subject to change- please check the tags and the author's note on each chapter for up-to-date TWs! Summary: Two years after the world fell to pieces, the former employees of Dunder Mifflin and their families now reside in the Schrute Farms Community. Dwight's careful planning and agricultural know-how keeps their stomachs full and the house warm, but other dangers lurk both inside and out of the ancient stone walls that guard them. Between two recent arrivals, brewing unrest, and the struggles of post-apocalyptic existence, life is a far cry from what it once was. The tides of change come for everyone, and their fledgling clan is no exception.

read the prologue and chapter one now on ao3!

[roppiepop]

Typical role dustribution

[leveragehunters]

CoPilot in MS Word

I opened Word yesterday to discover that it now contains CoPilot. It follows you as you type and if you have a personal Microsoft 365 account, you can't turn it off. You will be given 60 AI credits per month and you can't opt out of it.

The only way to banish it is to revert to an earlier version of Office. There is lot of conflicting information and overly complex guides out there, so I thought I'd share the simplest way I found.

How to revert back to an old version of Office that does not have CoPilot

This is fairly simple, thankfully, presuming everything is in the default locations. If not you'll need to adjust the below for where you have things saved.

Click the Windows Button and S to bring up the search box, then type cmd. It will bring up the command prompt as an option. Run it as an administrator.

Paste this into the box at the cursor: cd "\Program Files\Common Files\microsoft shared\ClickToRun"

Hit Enter

Then paste this into the box at the cursor: officec2rclient.exe /update user updatetoversion=16.0.17726.20160

Hit enter and wait while it downloads and installs.

VERY IMPORTANT. Once it's done, open Word, go to File, Account (bottom left), and you'll see a box on the right that says Microsoft 365 updates. Click the box and change the drop down to Disable Updates.

This will roll you back to build 17726.20160, from July 2024, which does not have CoPilot, and prevent it from being installed.

If you want a different build, you can see them all listed here. You will need to change the 17726.20160 at step 4 to whatever build number you want.

This is not a perfect fix, because while it removes CoPilot, it also stops you receiving security updates and bug fixes.

Switching from Office to LibreOffice

At this point, I'm giving up on Microsoft Office/Word. After trying a few different options, I've switched to LibreOffice.

You can download it here for free: https://www.libreoffice.org/

If you like the look of Word, these tutorials show you how to get that look:

www.howtogeek.com/788591/how-to-make-libreoffice-look-like-microsoft-office/

www.debugpoint.com/libreoffice-like-microsoft-office/

If you've been using Word for awhile, chances are you have a significant custom dictionary. You can add it to LibreOffice following these steps.

First, get your dictionary from Microsoft

Go to Manage your Microsoft 365 account: account.microsoft.com.

One you're logged in, scroll down to Privacy, click it and go to the Privacy dashboard.

Scroll down to Spelling and Text. Click into it and scroll past all the words to download your custom dictionary. It will save it as a CSV file.

Open the file you just downloaded and copy the words.

Open Notepad and paste in the words. Save it as a text file and give it a meaningful name (I went with FromWord).

Next, add it to LibreOffice

Open LibreOffice.

Go to Tools in the menu bar, then Options. It will open a new window.

Find Languages and Locales in the left menu, click it, then click on Writing aids.

You'll see User-defined dictionaries. Click New to the right of the box and give it a meaningful name (mine is FromWord).

Hit Apply, then Okay, then exit LibreOffice.

Open Windows Explorer and go to C:\Users\[YourUserName]\AppData\Roaming\LibreOffice\4\user\wordbook and you will see the new dictionary you created. (If you can't see the AppData folder, you will need to show hidden files by ticking the box in the View menu.)

Open it in Notepad by right clicking and choosing 'open with', then pick Notepad from the options.

Open the text file you created at step 5 in 'get your dictionary from Microsoft', copy the words and paste them into your new custom dictionary UNDER the dotted line.

Save and close.

Reopen LibreOffice. Go to Tools, Options, Languages and Locales, Writing aids and make sure the box next to the new dictionary is ticked.

If you use LIbreOffice on multiple machines, you'll need to do this for each machine.

Please note: this worked for me. If it doesn't work for you, check you've followed each step correctly, and try restarting your computer. If it still doesn't work, I can't provide tech support (sorry).

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Police Officer Wes

"Excuse me, sorry, Mr. Batman, sir!"

That's definitely not a voice he knows. Bruce halts in his steps, aborting his usual retreat into the shadows, and turns back around. Commissioner Gordon, who was still in the process of wrapping up his small talk with Tim - the term 'grumpy banter' would describe their conversation more accurately at this point, but Bruce knows better than to argue with the two over semantics - also turns around, pausing in the middle of the sentence.

A ginger haired boy, wide-eyed and obviously either nervous, starstruck, or both, is staring at him from a few feet behind the Commissioner. Bruce can see a few more faces peeking from behind the half-opened door to the roof, all of them filled with anticipation. He knows two of them: detectives that work directly under Gordon, Isaiah Vasquez, and Tasha Kuznets. The third one, a black man in his forties, also looks vaguely familiar, but Bruce can't recall a name.

Yet, he knows absolutely nothing about the ginger, who hasn't blinked once since Bruce noticed him and is now biting on his lips. But he is wearing a police uniform, so, possibly, a new hire?

"Weston, get out," Jim sighs, waving a shooing hand at the boy with a look of barely concealed exasperation on his face. Definitely a new hire, then. That's the level of annoyance he reserves only for the overachieving rookies that he begrudgingly likes but never admits to.

"I-" newly named Weston starts but cuts himself off. Then, he takes a deep breath and straightens up, "Just one question, sir!"

"Weston, I swear to God," Commissioner pinches the bridge of his nose, lifting his glasses up a bit. But Tim tilts his head to the side, looking in the ginger's direction and raising his eyebrows. His domino mask hides it, but Bruce knows his menagerie of kids well enough to see that he is at least a bit curious about the boy. So he turns back around fully and inclines his head, giving Weston his attention. He doesn't mind talking with those rare few members of GCPD that Gordon likes.

Weston perks up like a very eager dog at the sight of a treat. In the contrast lighting of the BatSignal, his hair looks like it's on fire.

"If you don't mind, was the 'Smiling case' relevant to Joker in any sense?" The boy asks, loud and clear - maybe even too loud - with his unblinking gaze still glued to Bruce. Like he is afraid that if he closes his eyes for a moment, Gotham's vigilantes are going to disappear without a trace.

It's not a question Bruce expected, to be honest. The 'Smiling case' was closed just a few days ago, Gordon was still not done with the paperwork, as far as Oracle's records went. A murder of three, where all victims had some badly drawn clown makeup on them - post-mortem makeup, as it turned out, the murderer tried to deceive the investigation by trying to cover it up as Joker's doing. Only, he didn't do a good job at it, all the Bats were way too familiar with the Mad Clown's signature style. Not to mention that Joker was still securely sealed in his Arkham cell.

Bruce turns to look at Red Robin. He was the one working on the case, so Bruce gives him the choice of answering or not. Tim jerks his shoulder, looks the ginger boy up and down, and then shakes his head.

"Aside from a poor attempt at leading the investigation in the wrong direction, no, it wasn't," Tim shrugs, "The guy isn't even a Gothamite, he knew of Joker only from the rumors and media. And the clown faces were a makeshift cover-up."

Weston visibly deflates at the answer. Bruce watches in a slight amusement as Tasha nudges the other officer, one he doesn't remember the name of, in the shoulder, and stage-whispers, "Pay up." The older man huffs and disappears behind the door, followed by Isaiah.

"Thank you, Mr. Red Robin," Wesley nods politely and takes a step back, his eyes darting to Gordon. Tim snorts a laugh but doesn't correct him. Commissioner, though, gives the boy a long, dreadful sigh.

"Is that all, officer Weston?" He asks, not even bothering to hide his 'tired dad' voice.

The ginger nods again, "Yes, Commissioner Gordon."

"Then get out of my sight before I make all your shifts double," Jim commands, and Weston nearly runs back to the door with a speed that makes Bruce involuntarily think of speedsters. Must be the red hair.

Tim turns to look at the Commissioner right as the door to the roof slams shut behind both Weston and Kuznets.

"Who is he?"

Bruce is also a bit curious now. New recruits in the GCPD are nothing out of the ordinary, but Jim seems to know this one personally, and Kuznets, who is one of his trusted detectives, seems to also like the officer.

Gordon briefly huffs and stuffs his hands in the pockets of his coat. It's quite chilly today; Bruce makes a mental note to switch everyone to their more insulated suits. Scarecrow is currently out on the loose. It won't do any good if any of the Bats went down with a cold.

"Wesley Weston, fresh out of the Academy," Commissioner sighs, but, somehow, Bruce gets the impression it's not a sound of simple exasperation over a new officer eager to prove himself. Jim proves his assumptions by looking around the shoulder to make sure the door to the roof is still closed, and continuing, "Born and raised in the middle of nowhere, Illinois, but GCPD was his first choice. He explained it as having a few friends living in the city, which, unfortunately, proved to be right."

Bruce frowns and grunts, alarm bells ringing in his mind. Deliberately choosing to work in Gotham despite not being from here can be caused by many reasons, and nearly none of them are good reasons.

"Unfortunately?" Tim inquires suspiciously, also with a slight frown, but Jim waves them both off.

"No, he's got nothing to do with any of the criminals. It was the first thing I checked when he mentioned 'friends'. If anything, he's quite on the opposite; he'd make a great detective one day, what with his countless conspiracy theories, determination and the insane urge to dig up every single detail known to mankind," he laughs a bit, and Bruce notices a slight, teasing twinkle to the Commissioner's eyes behind his glasses. "On his second day here, the boy went and plain told me he knows that Batman is Bruce Wayne and that he's saying that because he knows I know and he is aware we're working together."

The alarm bells in Bruce's mind turn into sirens. They never discussed the matters of Bats' real identities with Gordon - Bruce had his suspicions that the man knew it and simply kept his status quo. In all fairness, James Gordon didn't make it to Gotham's Commissioner by sheer dumb luck, so all the Bats kind of expected him to figure it out one day.

But Jim knowing who's behind the cowl is one thing. A new, out of town officer is quite another.

"What did you answer?" Tim asks with an easy smile, but Bruce sees the barely noticeable tension in his shoulders.

Gordon nearly grins, "I didn't believe him, which turned out to be exactly what he expected. He also told me of some kind of a familial curse - he called it 'Cassandra's curse', I believe you're aware of what it means. And then, when I naturally expressed my doubts, proceeded to show it in action. Believe me, it works. Sometimes, it even works too well," the man looks to the side with an amused huff, "That's why officer Weston is strictly prohibited from voicing his opinions on any of the ongoing cases outloud. Detective Kuznets almost missed some critical evidence because of his input once."

Cassandra's curse, Bruce has heard of that saying before. Granted, he never thought it could be a real thing, and he is not intending on starting now, not before he investigates the matter thoroughly. But he does trust Jim - years and years of working together would do that to people - so he simply nods in understanding, leaving the matter of supernatural aside for now.

"What about his friends?" Red Robin asks again, and that causes Gordon to wince momentarily.

"That, I believe, was the cause of his performance just now. One of his friends runs an occult shop, and the other one loves to hang around our forensic scientists and coroners occasionally," the man waves their immediate frowns off again, "I don't go into the morgue often, but I heard he's good at finding out the causes of death by a few looks at the body. And they run a lot of bets between them three," Jim shrugs nonchalantly, "The last one was about the 'Smiling case', I take it."

"Any reason to worry about them?" Bruce can't help but ask. It's not unusual for people to be weird in this city, and running an occult shop and hanging out with pathologists are not exactly reasons to go through background checks when they've got much more pressing issues on their plate. Namely, Scarecrow: it's been more than a week since his escape, but none of the Bats have heard anything about him yet. Oracle is already busy enough with that and the current uprise of gang activity in the Narrows, there's no point in piling even more work on her shoulders just because of some gossip that rubs Bruce the wrong way.

Gordon, thankfully, doesn't take his question lightly and pauses, scratching his chin.

"No," he finally concludes after some thought, "They are a bit strange for non-Gothamites, I'll say that, but in terms of this city? They are no stranger than my neighbors from upstairs." Gordon doesn't tell them to leave it alone, Bruce notices. However, it's probably not because of any doubts he has; the Bats just have a habit of tripplechecking everything anyways, and who would know that better than Jim Gordon?

A quick glance to Tim proves Bruce's thoughts. Red Robin, despite the mask, looks thoughtful. How many cases is he already working on, seven? Bruce makes another mental note to ask Alfred to cut his caffeine intake. It might be a bit hypocritical of him, what with his own plans to send a few messages to JLD about the 'Cassandra's curse', but Bruce excuses himself as the adult in the family.

Commissioner Gordon clears his throat.

"Do you want me to turn around so you can make your mysterious escape, or-" he starts, but both vigilantes are already gone by the time he finishes, "-or not, okay."

[stervrucht]

[ghostbsuter]

"I can see dead people." He mentions with a shrug, using the chopsticks to fish more noodles into his mouth.

Dick stares at him. "Huh."

"Is that why you help?" He asks, getting more spring rolls.

"Yeah. Once someone becomes a ghost, word gets out quick, and they come to me. Always tatling about unfairness and justice." The kid waves the words around, rolling his eyes.

Dick just pretens to he uninterested, despite his mind racing at the new info. He is piecing past moments together, every shadow leaping away, every note with tips, leads and—

Huh.

"Do you... like it? Doing all that?" Richard approaches thus carefully, brows furrowed at the kid opposite of him.

Danny moves his head, giving a 'so-so' answer. "It's not much to like, I can see ghosts, and they know it and use it. If it brings them to peace or whatever– well, that's just a plus."

Dick stares. He places his chopsticks down and looks at Danny worried.

In turn, the kid sighs. "Sometimes gifts become curses the longer you have it."

And Dick understands.

Mind made up, he throws a pair of keys at the kid, watching fondly as the other catches them with confusion.

"Next time use these, instead of entering through the window."

Danny mock-salutes with a shit eating grin. "Yes, Officer grayson."

[time-woods]

cue the meet-cute ! (cosmic office romcom))

first introduction !

[restinsodaroni]

I always kinda headcanon how Moon “sings” is through his music box, idk it just seems like a neat idea haha. If you’re curious what I think Moon’s music box sounds like, it’s this.

[gothamite-rambler]

Harley smirked, "I earned my psych diploma, boys."

Harley (analyzing the wayne boys): You have depression, daddy issues, mommy issues, chaos issues, insomnia, attachment issues, anger issues and a constant need to make people happy even if you struggle with it.

Dick, Jason, Damian, Tim looked at each other wondering who's she's referring to.

Harley (tight smile): All of ya, it refers to all of ya.

Dick: I don't have attachment issues!

Harley: Jason and I talk a lot, you do. Tim and I talk a lot too, you do. It's perfectly normal though.

Dick glared both his brother who averted eye contact with the man.

Cass: What about me?

Harley: Oh you're perfect.

Dick: She has all of the shit you told us we have!

Harley: She doesn't have insomnia or anger issues, and she's fixed her daddy issues thanks to Bruce.

Cass clapped happily.

Duke (pausing a show on his phone): I was good with my mom and dad, but what would you give me?

Harley: Traumatized, social anxiety, no parent issues, but guilt for not savin' them and a tad bit of depression.

Duke (happy): A tad? I'm doing good then!

Duke returned to watching his show.

Tim (bothered): That's not fair.

Harley: It's not my fault you and ya brothers deal with cripplin' depression brought on by numerous traumatic episodes which leads ya to being easily startled at times, avoiding specific situations and leaves the three oldest sexually confused due to switchin' your pain to pleasure.

Damian sighed relived at the last part while the three oldest Wayne boys blushed because she was right. Duke chuckled slowly, turning into loud laughter.

Duke: Didn't miss a beat, did she?

Dick (blushing): I'm not... that into pain.

Harley (doubtful expression on her face): Don't lie.

The brothers left annoyed that Harley was right, while the therapist pats herself on the shoulder for her therapy skills sticking.

Harley: Joker insanity or not I still got it! I'm getting accepted by better help soon enough.

Duke laughed harder causing Cass to shake her head with a smile.

pt 2

[prettyyoungandbored]

Dork - Danny Cordray

Pairing: Danny Cordray x Fem!OC

Author’s Note: This was one of the most difficult things I’ve ever written. I love this show so much and never did I think would do write an Office fic. So, because this is The Office, yes the OC will have a camera interview. Anything that is bold and italicized is her giving the on-camera interview. I hope you enjoy!

P.S. Any direct quotes from the show belong to the writers.

NOT MY GIF

Surprisingly, Danny Cordray being handsome was the second thing people were talking about. The first was the fact that he and Pam went on two dates two years ago.

And man, did the office run wild with that. Even if somehow Michael Scott strangely didn’t.

For Tessa Connelly, she felt bad that it was all people were talking about. She was friends with Pam and Pam was happily married with a kid. She moved on. Why couldn’t everybody else?

“I wanna say they’ll get over it, but you and I both know that will take forever,” Tessa chuckled, as the two women stood in the kitchen. “How were the dates though?”

“I had fun,” Pam replied. “But he didn’t call me after the second one so, I don’t know. Guess he wasn’t having as much fun.” She paused. “Not that it matters.”

“No, but I would question it too,” Tessa assured. “I’ve been in that position before and it’s the worst. How’s Jim handling it?”

“He’s frazzled but won’t admit it.”

The brunette chuckled. “Color me shocked. He’ll get over it. At least he will before everyone else does.”

Just as Pam was leaving the break room, Danny entered and his eyes met Tessa’s. She gave him a small smile.

“Hi, I don’t think we’ve met yet,” he said, holding out his hand. He flashed a million dollar smile that elicited butterflies in her stomach. “I’m Danny. I just joined the sales team.”

“Tessa,” she said, shaking his hand.

“And what do you do here?”

“I’m a customer service rep.”

He hummed, leaning on the counter. “Well, I can promise you you’ll only get glowing reviews about me.”

Her lips pursed as she nodded.

She pointed at him. “Lemme guess, salesman.”

“Traveling salesman,” he corrected politely.

She hummed. “Not much of a desk guy, huh?”

He shook his head. “I don’t like being tied down a whole lot.”

Ok, NOW I get why he only went on two dates with Pam. It all makes sense now.

She raised her mug. “Well, Danny, it was nice to meet you.”

“It was really nice to meet you as well,” he replied.

She just nodded and continued walking.

=================================

The next day was the Halloween party. Tessa decided to keep it simple with a basic cat costume. She had the ears and drew the nose and whiskers, donning a black button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a black pencil skirt.

She walked into the break room to get coffee at the same time Danny was.

“Nice costume,” he remarked. “I, uh, didn’t realize people took Halloween here seriously.”

“There’s a costume contest today,” she said, pouring coffee into her mug.

“I assume you’re entering?”

She shook her head. “I don’t care to.”

“But you’re dressed up.”

“Thats the fun of Halloween,” she said. “You dress up to be whoever or whatever you want.”

He nodded. “I didn’t think about that. Then again, I’ve never been a costume guy.”

“You’re missing out.”

“Well, for what it’s worth I’d vote for you in the costume contest.”

She couldn’t help but notice Danny Cordray’s smile and how it complimented his overall charming demeanor. She wondered if his looks was what made him a good salesman. He could sell meat to vegetarian with one single look.

Then she remembered his words. “I don’t like being tied down a whole lot.” He was obviously flirting with her just to get her in bed and then continue on to the next woman.

The worst part is how much she liked it.

“MeOW! Look at you dressed as my favorite thing in the world!”

She groaned, knowing damn well who that voice belonged too.

“Packer, I will stab you with my pencil,” she retorted.

Todd Packer, dressed as a pregnant nun, meddled in between her and Danny.

“Fiesty and violent, just how I like ‘em,” he smirked.

Before she could say something, Danny stepped in between.

“So, I need help finding the conference room for the meeting,” he said, looking at Tessa. “Can you show me where it is?”

She smiled at him gratefully. “Sure. Follow me.”

She walked out into the office with Danny right beside her. Once they were out of Packer’s sight, she turned and said, “Thanks for that. He’s a traveling salesman who truly has no business being in this office. Or even just existing.”

“No problem,” Danny chuckled. “I can promise you, not traveling salesmen are like that.”

She smiled. “I sure hope not.”

“So, um, I already told everyone else but my buddies and I are having a Halloween thing at our bar,” he said. “You should come.”

“You co-own a bar?” she asked. “Why am I not surprised?”

He made a face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing at all. You just have a bar owner vibe about you.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“Yes, it is,” she laughed. “Don’t overthink it. What’s the name of the bar?”

“Public School.”

She cocked her head back. “That’s quite a name. I’ll definitely-.”

She turned to see the office staring at her, including Pam who was the only one smiling.

She looked over back at Danny. “I’ll think about it.”

Just because I’m being nice doesn’t mean I’m flirting with him. You can talk to an attractive man without flirting with him.

Don’t get me wrong, he’s cute. But I just…I mean…guys like him, you know. He’s a bachelor. He prefers the bachelor lifestyle. And it seems to suit him. Like he seems nice and he smells really nice and has a great smile-.

Oh [BEEP] off!

=======================================

“You going to Danny’s bar tonight?”

She glanced up from her computer to see Andy and Kevin standing there.

“I don’t know yet,” she shrugged.

“Is it because he went out with Pam two years ago?” Kevin asked.

She sighed. “Ok, you guys have got to cut it out with that.”

Andy laughed. “Sounds like someone’s a little bit jealous.”

“How am I-you know what?”

She got up from her desk and walked into the break room where Danny was talking with Jim and Pam.

“Do you honestly wanna know why I didn't call her back on a date over four years ago?” Danny asked.

“Hey, she had a nice time,” Jim said defensively.

“I did,” Pam chimes in. “Yeah, and it's one of those things that's just gonna keep gnawing at me. Like, gnaw, gnaw...’Why? Why didn't he? I have no idea why.’”

“Okay, honestly,” Danny sighed. I didn't call you back because I just thought you seemed a little dorky.”

Silence fell. Tessa’s heart sank to her stomach as she watched Pam’s demeanor soften into embarrassment.

“Hey, man,” Jim stepped in.

“Thank you!” Pam cut him off, over enthusiastically. “Thank you. I got it. Now I know. You thought I was a little dorky.”

Tessa couldn’t just stand there and do nothing.

“You know what, I don’t think I should come tonight,” she spoke up.

Danny, Jim, and Pam looked over at her.

“I don’t want to be around people who don’t appreciate how awesome us dorks are,” she snapped.

Danny opened his mouth to say something when Tessa turned around, heading back to her office.

I said what I said. Look, yes, he’s gorgeous but…it’s not worth entertaining. Not with someone like him.

====================================

Tessa spent the rest of Halloween in the annex working. She figured with the costume contest and whatever conflict Michael and Darryl were dealing with, she could get her work done and slip out of here without dealing with Danny ever again.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

She looked over to see Pam standing by Tessa’s desk.

“It wasn’t right,” Tessa shrugged. “Besides, if you’re a dork then I’m a loser.”

Pam chuckled. “He actually apologized to me and Jim. It was actually really sincere.”

“That’s nice.”

“Tess, cmon. You should give him a chance, you know. He means well, and he clearly likes you. And I know you like him too.”

She sighed as she set her pencil down. “It’s not worth it and quite frankly, I don’t see it ending well.”

Pam pulled out a folded scrap of paper. Tessa unfolded it, revealing name written on it.

“I didn’t even-.”

“He wrote it,” Pam said. “It was the only handwriting I couldn’t recognize.”

Tessa sighed, the knot in her stomach tightened.

“Don’t not do it because of me,” Pam said. “Just…you know, think about it.”

Tessa nodded as Pam grabbed her arm. “C’mon. Jim brought Cece and she’s all dressed up.”

===================================

When Tessa walked out to the office, the first thing she noticed was Jim, dressed as Popeye, holding baby Cece.

“Oh my god, she’s Sweet Pea!” Tessa beamed.

She made her way over, holding out her arms. Jim handed her the baby as she continued to coo at Cece.

“What a cutie you are in your costume!” she said. “Best one I’ve seen today!”

“I actually like the Popeye cartoons.”

She looked over to see Danny standing there. He continued. “I always liked cartoons. Still kind of do. The old school Looney Tunes make me laugh.”

Tessa pulled back her lips. “What if I were to tell you that sometimes I still watch those cartoons? Is that too dorky for you?”

He smiled. “I would say that sometimes Public School has the old school Looney Tunes playing on one of TVs and if you don’t believe me, you should come check it out for yourself.”

Tessa looked at Cece.

“You know, Cece,” she began, “Danny here really wants me to go to his bar. Give me a smile if you think I should go.”

Cece smiled and began babbling. Tessa looked over at Danny.

“What time should I be there?” she asked.

I guess I figured I’d been too judgemental. Besides, Pam gave me her blessing. I’m just going to go for a couple drinks. See what happens.

[jeonstudios]

dextrocardia | 15

Dextrocardia. Originally a medical term, but also a way to describe someone who's got their heart in the right place.

"She's been moved to another operation to help out. This pairing is necessary because you'll be undercover as spouses. I know you two can be professional about this."

"What?!" It's Jeongguk's upset voice that sounds, and for once, you share his displeased opinion.

Spouses.

pairing: cop!jk x f detective!reader

genre: undercover cops, fake marriage, e2l au, angst, fluff, (smut?)

word count: 6k

warnings: self-esteem issues, feelings

rating: NC-17 – Adults Only

masterlist

part 15/? 

<previous | next>

© dextrocardia is copyright jeonstudios. this fic can not be modified, re-posted, or translated without my permission.

The ride home lasts ten minutes, during which you’re holding back tears the entire time. It’s only when you’re finally inside your own apartment that you let them fall. It doesn’t help to see Fenrir’s collar and leash hanging next to your jackets, or his bowls still on the floor. In a way, it feels like you’re back at square one. 

You know you promised Jeongguk you’d call Jihyo, but you don’t, knowing she’d disapprove of you being on your own probably just as much as he does. Still, realizing that sooner or later you’ll need to either get back to work or find another job, you send her a text, asking if there’s any case for you to work on remotely until you’re ready to return fully.

The first night back is emotional, but you’re relieved to finally be home.

“I don’t think it matters how hard you throw it,” a worried Jimin watches Jeongguk hurl a dart at the dartboard. “Actually, I’m pretty sure you’d see better results if you didn’t throw it like an Olympic javelin thrower.”

Jeongguk doesn’t reply, just rolls his eyes and grabs another dart. The music around them is surprisingly quiet, drowned out by the chatter of the bustling bar.

“So, care to tell me what’s up with him?” Jin asks, nodding toward Jeongguk as he sets the three pints of beer on the table and takes a seat. 

“His little lady left him,” Jimin explains sadly, sliding one of the pints closer to Jeongguk.

“Oh. Why? You weren’t a couple, were you?” Jin asks.

“No,” is all Jeongguk mutters before he heads over to the dartboard to retrieve the darts. He has three of them, but only one actually hit the board; the other two embarrassingly stuck to the wood-paneled wall. From the marks already there, he’s at least not the first terrible dart-thrower. When he returns to the table with all the darts in hand, he pushes his designated pint back toward Jimin. “Can’t drink.”

Jimin meets his eyes, looking defeated. Jeongguk already explained that when you’re not with him, he can’t risk being drunk in case you need him. If you called, saying Hoseong had found you, Jeongguk would not hesitate to get on his bike or in his car, no matter how much he’s had to drink, and driving under the influence is something he’d rather avoid.

“She’s scared of me,” he repeats what you told him a few nights ago. Hearing the words from his own mouth stings less, but his heart still aches and his blood boils. He throws another dart but misses the board, and it sticks to the wall a few inches left of it. 

“Wait. What do you mean?” Jin asks, confusion written all over his face.

“Yeah. Although I’m pretty sure she hasn’t ruled out that I’ll just snap one day and kill her, she’s mostly scared that I’ll want to hurt her emotionally.”

“But why would you? I thought you two were doing alright? I mean, she’s been living with you for, what, the last month?”

“We were. Or at least, I thought so. She kissed me, and we were… getting closer, but I guess it freaked her out.”

“Why?”

“Remember how I told you I was horrible to her before I found out what Hoseong had done? Yeah, the things I said… they were inhumane.”

“What did you say?”

Jeongguk throws another dart, swinging his arm and using way too much force. “What haven’t I said? I’ve told her that she’s too ugly for me to look at, that she needs to stop eating, that she’s incompetent, and that she basically deserved being trafficked if only the traffickers would take her. That’s the short version.”

“Fuck, man,” Jimin breathes in disbelief. Jeongguk told him what happened ages ago but not explicitly what he’d said to you.

“Yeah. I just… I wanted her to hurt, to pay for what I thought she’d done, but she never seemed affected. I’d call her something, and she’d flip me off or glare at me or call me an idiot or whatever, but she never… I thought she didn’t care, so the next time I saw her, I said something worse. But I wouldn’t have, obviously, if I… If I… knew.”

Jin puts his glass down, wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. “I mean, I haven’t met her, but isn’t she, like, objectively very pretty? From what I’ve heard?”

“Yeah, she is,” Jeongguk sighs. “Which is also why I didn’t think she’d take it to heart, ‘cause what I said isn’t true in the slightest.” 

“But can’t she see how pathetically in love you are? No offense,” Jimin asks. “I mean, I take it you’ve apologized and probably told her what you really think? She doesn’t trust that?”

Jeongguk falls silent as he retrieves the darts again, shamefully avoiding eye contact with his friends on his way back.

“Wait, you haven’t apologized?”

“Of course I have,” he argues before lowering his voice. “I just kinda… fucked it up.”

He feels the confused stares of his friends. “I’ve apologized many, many times for how I treated her, and she seemed to kinda accept that? But I never explicitly apologized for the things I said. Nor have I told her how I actually feel about her.”

He sees how Jimin is about to tell him exactly what he thinks about that, but Jeongguk cuts him off before he's able to.

“After I somehow convinced her to stay with me, I thought carefully about how to act around her. I thought that it would be better to apologize for… everything. I thought ‘I’m sorry for how I treated you’ would cover it. And I didn’t want her to second-guess my intentions, so I didn’t actually tell her what I really think.”

“You mean ‘second-guess your intentions’ as in…” Jin trails off.

“As in think that I chose to help her because I was interested in her. I didn’t want her to think I had an agenda or to feel like she’d owe me in any way. She hasn’t had the best experience with men—men in law enforcement, especially—so I wanted to be as… safe, I guess, as possible for her. I didn’t realize she was still thinking about it, taking what I said as the truth.”

Jimin sighs. “So she thinks you might still consider her the ugliest creature to walk the earth is what you’re saying?”

“Apparently. I tried to convince her before she left, but of course, it didn’t seem genuine. I don’t blame her.”

A bit more optimistic, Jin tilts his head. “You don’t think she’ll believe you if you just tell her exactly what you just told us?”

But Jeongguk lets his shoulders slump. “I don’t think so. She told me I scare her because I have a desire to hurt anyone who wrongs me, and she doesn’t feel like she can read me. And I believe her. I wanted to hurt her, and during the mission, I had to pretend to love her when I really didn’t, so I kept switching up on her.”

The atmosphere shifts from frustrated and sad to just sad as Jeongguk runs his thumb over the dart in his hand.

“I lose either way. If I tell her that what I said back then was true, then I think she’s ugly, and I wanted to hurt her by saying so. But if I say that I lied and that she’s really the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, then I still wanted to hurt her. And after everything she’s been through, she doesn’t want a man with a desire to hurt.”

“But like you said, you didn’t mean to hurt her to that point, more so to be taken down a notch? And it got out of hand?”

“Is there a difference? I’ve hurt her, probably beyond what is salvageable, and she thinks I’m still capable of that; that if we disagree on something, I might turn on her.”

With a deep breath, you pull open the doors to the police station one chilly Monday morning, the sky outside gray and heavy with the threat of snow. It’s been three weeks since you came home, and though Jihyo put up a fight, she eventually agreed to let you stay.

Since months have passed, and you still haven’t caught Hoseong and his crew, you figure you might as well try to get back to normal. So you started planning your return to work, but then Christmas came, which you spent at your mother’s, two hours away.

Jihyo also agreed not to tell Jeongguk about your living arrangements, per your desperate request. You’d rather not deal with his savior complex, and you know he’d park outside your building if he thought you were in danger. You scoff to yourself, but almost immediately, guilt settles in. A savior complex isn’t why he’s worried about you; he’s just a good guy. You know that. Still, you don’t want him to know.

Walking through the station at nine a.m.—on your way to Jihyo’s office to discuss your new assignment—you almost hold your breath. Some officers glance your way, still not used to seeing you back, and maybe even less used to seeing you without Jeongguk. Or maybe they know you had a ��falling out?” Would he tell anyone here? Jihyo, maybe, if she didn’t already know, but you’re not sure if he’d tell anyone else; his closest friends besides Jimin don’t work at this station anyway. And Jimin probably wouldn’t gossip about you either.

Jihyo is waiting for you when you reach the door to her office, calling out for you to come in as soon as you knock.

“Hey,” you say, closing the door behind you.

“Hey. Want a donut?” she asks from behind her desk, happily pointing to the open box, a half-eaten donut in hand and what you assume is part of the other half in her mouth.

“Nah, I’m good,” you grin, sitting down in front of her.

“Alright,” she says, swallowing and wiping some crumbs from her lap. “So, I’ve been looking over your request and proposed methods.”

You watch as she pulls her laptop in front of her, setting the donut down on the table, and starts scrolling.

“And I’d say it’s very reasonable if we’re okay with the risks.”

“I don’t think there are any risks at all, actually,” you argue softly. “We parted on good terms.”

“Yeah, I know. And they played a part in your survival. But I’m still gonna need to have a risk analysis performed. Who would you want to go with you? I could assign Sana, I think, if you want her? She’s on an assignment right now, but we’re hoping they’ll be done by Wednesday, give or take.”

“Yeah, that would be great. Thanks.”

“No problem. I’m glad to see you back and wanting to work on what matters to you. I know the chief—ex-chief—did his best to be a pain in the ass for you.”

“Yeah. I can’t wait until the investigation’s finished, honestly. He deserves to rot in jail.”

“Agreed. I haven’t heard anything else from the higher-ups, so they’re probably still elbow-deep in it. Anyway, if you have any details you’d like to show me, I’m all ears.”

Your smile grows, and you reach into your bag for your laptop and notebook.

“Thanks,” you smile, standing up an hour later with your bag in hand. But before you exit her office and close the door behind you, you glance back at Jihyo. “By the way, I’m so glad you got the job. You deserve it more than anyone.”

“Thank you. It’s been… rough, these last couple of months. A lot to do and a lot of stress and pressure, but I think it’s worth it. And I’ve had help, making it easier for me to adjust.”

You know who she’s talking about; you don’t need to hear a name.

“He asks about you, you know.”

Holding onto the door, you look away. You’re well aware of what Jeongguk has done for not only you but also Jihyo, Sana, and the entire police station. 

“Let me avoid him for at least another month. Then you can tell him whatever you want, and I can try to be a better colleague. But now? I can’t… I don’t…”

Jihyo looks at you, seeing the pain well up in your eyes when you think about the reason you left his house that night. If you can just have another month to force the warm, yet invalid and hurt feelings you have for him back into the box they broke out of when you first kissed him, you can try to be more civil with him. Hell, you’ll even work with him if he can keep it professional as well.

Jihyo nods, sad but understanding. After all, she had a front-row seat when he used to tear you bloody.

For another hour, you sit at an empty desk, excitedly looking over the preliminary plan that starts on Thursday. You can’t believe it’s about to actually become reality.  

Step one:

Preliminary timeframe: Thursday. 

Possible obstacles and risks: Low risk of hostility or danger. 

Safety measures: Two detectives, civilian clothes, civilian car, concealed firearms.

Step two: Plan A or B, depending on what you find, if anything.

With your notes full of prepared questions, you rise from the chair, deeming it time to leave the station for the day. As you stand there, organizing your papers, movement catches your eye, and you look up just in time to see Jimin enter the big room. And of course, who does he have in tow if not Jeon Jeongguk, dressed, like so often, in the academy's navy crewneck and uniform pants?

Meeting both of their eyes, you’re saved by your phone’s ringtone, a sound that seems to stop even Jeongguk from taking an impulsive step toward you.

Fishing the phone out from the pocket of your black pants, you swipe your finger across the screen to answer. It’s Sana.

“Hello?”

“Hey! So I talked to Jihyo, and she said that your request got pre-approved? I’m a little busy at the moment and for the next few days, but send me anything you’d like me to look over in preparation.”

“So you’re up for it?” you ask, a wide smile forming. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch Jeongguk reluctantly follow Jimin further into the room, where they start talking to two other officers with their backs turned. If you were more of a hopeless romantic instead of a realistic one, you’d describe the glances he sends your way as… yearning. To avoid his gaze, you focus on the notebook lying on the desk.

“Of course! You and me, just like old times.”

“Old times? It’s only been like a year since we worked on a case together.”

“You know what I mean. Anyway, I gotta go. See you.”

“I’ll send the info tonight. See you.”

Discreetly, you end the call and gather your things, quickly but quietly heading for the exit. But in the corridor, you hear a call of your name. You shut your eyes for a second before turning around. It hurts to see him, to walk these halls, avoiding him just like you used to. Only this time, it’s a different kind of pain.

The shame creeps in at the same rate Jeongguk approaches. It’s the same shame for how he sees you, but also for how you’ve reacted. You can barely look at him, yet you’re ashamed for not giving him a chance, even though he’s the one who made the bed he’s now tossing and turning in. He's so handsome, looking so warm and strong as he approaches, his black hair looking soft, shiny and just a little longer than last time. A part of you wishes he’d close his eyes so that you could throw your arms around his neck and breathe him in.

“Can you please leave me alone for a while?” is what you ask instead, clutching your notebook to your chest.

Now standing right before you, he looks down at you with sad, desperate eyes. “I’ll be quick, I promise. Two minutes is all I need.” 

You’re not sure why, because you’re not an immature person, but you press your lips together, trying to suppress a smile. Noticing the shift in your expression, Jeongguk thinks back to what he said, smiling as well. “I set that one up pretty well, didn’t I?”

You turn your head, trying to stifle the smile, but you find that it fades easier than expected. 

“And you think I’d wanna fuck that?” he snaps, eyeing your body with disgust. 

Your gaze locks on the lower part of the wall. You wish someone would lend you the cloak of invisibility so that you could hide yourself from him and the world.

“Look at me,” he instructs, but you don’t. The more you think about his eyes on your body, the more you want to leave. 

“Look. At me,” he repeats, firmer this time but still without sounding angry. 

So you do.

“I get it if you don’t want anything else to do with me, but I can’t have you walking around, believing what I said is true.”

Although you don’t cry, you reluctantly let him see just how hurt you are.

“You were right. I wanted to hurt you. I said those things because I was angry, and I wanted just… some kind of justice. When you instead seemed so… unfazed, I let it get the best of me, and somewhere along the way, I lost myself. But I was wrong and although I wanted payback, I didn’t mean to hurt you to this degree. I was only looking for a reaction, anything that showed me that you were paying for what I thought you’d done. If I’d known how I really made you feel, regardless of if you were innocent or not, I would’ve stopped.“

“So you’re just a man, after all?” you ask, and maybe it’s uncalled for, maybe it’s not.

Jeongguk takes half a step back, appearing lost for words, and with enough pain in his surprised eyes for you to think he looks hurt.

He blinks and lowers his voice. “Yeah. Just a man. But listen to me—the things I said were. Not. True. Okay? You hear me? I cannot let you go around thinking you’re anything like what I told you.”

“I find that hard to believe. How else would you know exactly where to hit? What to say to cause maximum damage? Talking about my cellulite and my… weight and…”

“I said what I figured any woman would be scared to hear.”

“Yeah, sure,” you dismiss. 

It doesn’t matter what he says now—he did know exactly what to say, which means he must have looked at you, inspected your body and found every single one of your flaws. It makes you nauseous, as if some of those flaws didn’t exist to the world simply because no one other than you had noticed or mentioned them. Then Jeongguk and his friends scrutinized every inch of you, uncovering them all and putting them on display.

“I think you’re gorgeous.”

“You would’ve told me.”

You really think he would have. The Jeongguk who wants you to sleep in his bed, holding you from behind, who asks to hold your hand, and who puts frosting on your lips as an excuse to kiss them—he would have told you if he liked you. If he thought you were beautiful.

“I didn’t. I thought–incredibly dumbly–that if I told you what I really think of you, you’d think I was hitting on you. If things were different, if we ran into each other somewhere without all this… baggage, I would’ve hit on you, but all I wanted at the time was for you to trust me as a friend and to trust that I just wanted you to be safe. I didn’t want you to think I was looking to get laid or that I would… that I was anything like Hoseong. I didn’t know that you took my bullshit to heart—because again, it’s just not true—and so I chose not to say anything.”

“But we’ve been past that point for a while, haven’t we?” you ask, finding his explanation a little too weak to believe. “I trusted you enough to tell you about the worst moment of my life, I kissed you, and I told you how pretty I think you are, yet you couldn’t even…”

Frustration boils in your veins, mixing with the raw disappointment and hurt which cools you back down. You feel so… small, so defeated. “I don’t need compliments. Just… something. Something that would’ve shown me you weren’t being sweet only because you felt guilty.”

Jeongguk doesn’t know what to say to that. In retrospect, yeah, he should’ve told you, and thinking back to his joke about pretty being for girls makes him cringe with both shame and regret. Especially since he’d used multiple occasions to taunt you with the fact that you’re not a pretty girl. But it had been hard, finding a balance in showing his affection without scaring you off. When you reacted the way you did that night during the power outage, he... didn’t want to risk making you more uncomfortable or afraid. He’d decided to take a step back, let you lead, and he would follow. Of course, that backfired horribly.

You look at him, hurt still brimming in your eyes.

He searches for words, trying to explain himself better. “I should’ve told you, but I… I didn’t want to risk making you uncomfortable. I wanted to follow your lead and let you decide everything. You wanted me handcuffed and blindfolded—of course I realized you were nervous. But I thought you were more worried I’d do something to you, rather than what I would think of you. I didn’t want to influence you to do anything you would’ve regretted.”

You’re clearly not convinced, and you shake your head slowly.

“You could’ve just given me a ‘you too.’ That’s all I would’ve needed.”

Jeongguk can only watch as you leave, obviously still very much hurt by him. Ten seconds after your footsteps have disappeared, he heads back to the desk area, his head hung low.

Jimin looks at him, JJ and Min gone. The unasked question hangs in the air, and Jeongguk can see Jimin realize that no, it didn’t go very well.

“You gotta remember that she’s had a hectic few months and maybe wasn’t really able to process everything. You being an ass was probably the least of her worries for a while—until it wasn’t anymore. And healing isn’t always linear. I’m sure she’ll come around one day.”

Jeongguk sighs. “I don’t think she will, and I can’t expect that of her. I just… hate myself for what I did to her. I never even realized she was just walking around, bleeding from my words.”

You haven’t fixed your car since the last tampering, but fortunately, Jihyo agreed to lend you one of the station’s unmarked cars. A discreet black thing that you park outside the station at ten a.m. on Thursday to pick up Sana, who needed to retrieve some things and told you to meet her there.

Getting no reply, you lock your phone and step out of the car with a sigh. The ground is powdered white, your shoes leaving tracks as you walk up to the station’s main entrance.

Warm air envelops you as you step inside, the doors falling shut behind you.

“Good morning!” Sana rushes over, a coffee in hand. “Sorry, I’ll be done in a minute, I just gotta ask Mark something.”

She gestures for you to follow, and you do, trailing behind her into the sea of desks. The place is unusually crowded with officers, so you decide to wait near the wall, leaving her to weasel her way into the middle on her own.

There usually aren’t this many people here when you’re around, but in your case, the problem isn’t necessarily people; it’s big, strong, law enforcement men. Though they’re not paying you much attention—they must be preparing for something big—you still can’t will your body to fully relax.

By instinct, you tug at your clothes, wishing you hadn’t left your jacket in the car. Since you decided to wear civilian clothes today, you thought you might as well dress somewhat according to your original mission’s dress code. Except adjusted for winter, of course. 

You’re wearing winter boots that reach your upper calves, a pair of those invisibly fleece-lined pantyhose you’ve seen all over social media the last few months, and a cream-colored knitted turtleneck dress. It’s been in your closet forever, but unfortunately, you didn’t try it on before you had to leave.

It feels too tight on your body. Not to wear into a ‘strangely religious neighborhood,’ but too tight to wear here. You pull at the hem where it ends at your mid-thigh, keeping your eyes down when people pass you and hoping no one is looking at you and taking note of how awkwardly shaped your body is.

You stand there for a while, avoiding people’s eyes while you wait for Sana.

However, when you—out of the corner of your eye—notice a uniformed man walking toward you, you look up. Jeongguk’s eyes flicker between you and the people walking past you, as if he’s seen exactly the shameful way you carry yourself around men—these men—nowadays. It’s gotten worse since you left his house; you know that, but when all of your confidence was fueled by anger and then denial, removing those leaves… not much left.

He comes to stand in front of you, looking down at you with frustrated eyes. He’s so broad, so imposing, and it’s very evident when he wears his navy uniform, the sleeves rolled up his veiny forearms.

“Listen to me—”

You look away, about to step back, but he grasps your hand—not just to stop you but to guide the two of you a few steps away from the path of officers and behind the tall panels of a cubicle.

“No. Listen to me. I’ll leave you alone after this if that’s what you want, but I need you to know that you are so incredibly beautiful.”

You sigh, looking at him and wordlessly begging him to just give up already. He’s quiet for a few long seconds, his frustration seemingly growing.

When he speaks again, his voice is calm, more earnest. “Do you remember the first time we met?”

“No,” you shake your head. You can’t recall the very first time you met him.

“I do. It was a rainy day—my fourth at the station—and I ran into you at the main entrance. The rain had wet your hair, and I held the door open for you. You thanked me, but you didn’t really smile much, just politely. I think you also bowed your head slightly. I remember thinking that you must’ve been cold from the rain, but I realize you were wary around the men here, even if you and I didn’t know each other.”

Sounds about right.

“And I thought that you were just so beautiful.”

You look down. It’s humiliating, and you feel like shit, hearing him throw compliments your way just to make you feel better. You can’t tell if he’s lying or not, but what else would he say? You can’t exactly say you expected him to approach you today to call you ugly.

Noticing your hesitation, he appears to be searching his mind for something, and you glance at him. 

Suddenly, his eyes widen slightly, and he reaches into the pocket of his navy uniform pants. It’s his phone that he pulls out, and he starts to scroll. He scrolls, and he scrolls, until he finally finds what he’s looking for.

“Look,” he says, handing you the phone.

Although you’re not too keen on entertaining whatever this is, you can’t help but be a little curious. What could he have on his phone that would convince you?

Accepting the device, you start reading the words on the screen. They’re text messages from an old group chat, dated years back, and though you can’t remember the exact date Jeongguk first showed up at the station, you assume it was right around then. The chat seems to have consisted mostly of him, Ryung, Hoseong, Seunghwan, and Junseo.

Seunghwan: Yeah, we’re excited to have you, just let us know if you need anything.

The next few texts are from the following day.

Jeongguk: So I just met the most gorgeous woman I think I’ve ever seen??

Jeongguk: Quick question, is there a work dating policy here? I can’t remember. 

Jeongguk: And if not, where do I find this woman again? Is she an officer? I’m not even kidding when I say that I’m absolutely head over heels from a three-second interaction, and she didn’t even really say anything. 

Jeongguk: I’d love to ask her out.

Ryung: If it’s who I think it is then you better stay away, man.

You read on, seeing how Ryung goes on to describe a woman’s features, which happen to align with yours. The length, color, and style of your hair, the color of your eyes, and your height. But also a very generous way of describing your face and the shape of your body.

Jeongguk: Yeah! Is she with one of you already? In that case, I apologize!

Ryung: No, but Hoseong did her briefly, and she’s absolutely mental. Pretty, but crazy

The next words are not very nice, the men urging Jeongguk to stay away from the woman who could only ever be you, promising to tell him what happened the day after.

“See,” Jeongguk says, “Even Ryung knew exactly who I meant; I didn’t even have to describe you, just say that you were the most gorgeous woman I’d ever seen.”

You’re not sure. Yeah, the evidence points to that, and you can’t deny that you’re definitely feeling some form of relief, but… you can still hear his voice in your ears, see the anger and hatred in his dark eyes.

You hand the phone back, and Jeongguk looks around, sighing before turning his attention back to you. “You want me to be completely honest? Tell you exactly what I think of you?”

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion. “No? That’s the point? I know that I’m not your type. I’m full of flaws. I don’t have a body fat percentage in the negatives like you, I don’t always have the energy to shave every inch of my body, and I’ve never gotten flowers. No matter what you say now, I’m not someone you want.”

“You think I’m someone who would care about any of that?” he asks, his voice tinged with hurt.

“You look like someone who would.”

Jeongguk looks away, taking a second to gather his thoughts.

“I… wanted to ask you out that day, after I first met you. You looked so pretty out there in the rain, and I think my heart stopped for a while. I think that you’re cute—really fucking adorable—and charming, and you’re smart and kind, and you’re absolutely breath-taking and sexy as hell.

"Which was another reason I was so angry at you; I saw this… stunning woman, who appeared to live a very privileged life, yelling ‘sexism’ whenever something didn’t go your way to… I don’t know, avoid consequences and get ahead, not realizing what sexism truly meant for other women. I didn’t think there was that much harm in what I said because I thought you knew very well how goddamn pretty you are, so I gripped at every straw, trying to get a reaction.”

You listen to every word he says, still unable to decide. You want to believe him, but the deep wounds he carved into your skin are still bleeding.

“I was so conflicted during our mission. On one hand, I had to pretend to like the person who had shot one of my best friends, who got away with it and refused to be held accountable for it. On the other hand… I liked seeing you pretend to like me too. First, out of spite, but then I realized that I liked seeing you smile, and how nice you were to the people around you, except for me, of course, but I guess I always started it. Then you fell asleep in my arms at the barbeque, and I knew I was fucked. I felt like I betrayed my friends for… feeling something other than hatred for you. 

“But this little thing, that hated me so much, let herself be so vulnerable as to sleep in my arms. And I guess I looked at you differently after that. The more I realized that you might actually be a pretty decent detective; a decent person, the harder it was for me to be mean to you. After everything, and after I’d found out what had happened, I wanted to tell you how much I liked you and how pretty I thought you were, but I was scared you wouldn’t come with me if I did. I was scared they’d look for you at your apartment, so I kept quiet.

“Even after you came to stay with me, and it seemed like you started to trust me, even just a little bit, I had to convince myself to wait. And the more I got to know you, the harder it became. Do you have any idea how much I wanted to bury you in flowers? Hold you and kiss you silly? And you know why I was always up before you—or at least I tried to be—when you slept in my bed with me?”

You shake your head because you don’t know.

There's something else in his eyes when he holds your gaze, “Because I dream about you, and I wake up hard. But I remembered how I freaked you out when we made out back at the house, when you were on my lap and I got hard. I didn’t want to scare you or make you uncomfortable, so I made sure to wake up before you, just in case.

“I wanted to kiss you and hold you and really, it would’ve been my pleasure if you’d wanted to sleep with me. But more than that, I wanted you to be safe and feel safe, never doubting why I was doing what I was.”

He shuts his eyes for a short moment. “I guess that’s all I can say. I don’t need you to forgive me, I just need you to know that all I wanted was revenge; nothing of what I said was true.”

He opens his eyes again, looking into yours with his soft, brown ones and a gentle sincerity. Though it’s overshadowed by something else. “I have many regrets, but you are my biggest. What I did to you.”

Regret.

As if she’s been waiting for the right moment to make her return, you hear Sana call your name. When you turn around, you spot her approaching.

“I gotta go,” you excuse yourself.

Sana looks between you and Jeongguk, but when no one says anything, she shrugs and turns her attention to you. “So, Jihyo said you had a problem with your apartment? The door, was it? Cause I can call my brother, and he’ll fix it for free next week if you want?”

“You’re living in your apartment? On your own?” Jeongguk questions, his voice upset.

You turn back at him, “Yeah. Have been since I left your house. It’s fine.”

Despite the clear worry his eyes display, he makes no effort to follow you and talk you straight, probably realizing that there’s nothing else he can do; that was his last chance.

<previous | next> author's note: so there's that! thanks for waiting for it <3 this was the last puzzle piece of their past, i think, and i'd love to hear your thoughts on everything, but especially him lol <3<3

[femininomen0n]

"The cameras are nowhere to be found, but he still feels watched. Exposed. Vulnerable. Like he’s crossing some invisible line, looking into Erin’s doe eyes and telling her all about his ex." or: something definitely happened when erin and pete went out for burgers in 9x02. featuring flirting, pining, and a whole lotta romantic angst.

read now on ao3, written by yours truly!

[scealaiscoite]

coworkers to lovers prompts ˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍊 ꒱

¹⁾ “hey - in case no-one else’s said it, you’ve been doing some really great work lately. i really apprec- i mean, all of us really appreciate it.”

²⁾ “if you keep putting in nights this late, i think [boss] is gonna start charging you rent.”

³⁾ “stop jumping in whenever you think i need saving! i don’t need defending, and i don’t need you!”

⁴⁾ “you remember how i take my coffee?”

⁵⁾  “you don’t need to keep pushing yourself so hard, you know. we all know how hard you worked to get here - it’s okay to let yourself breathe now.”

⁶⁾ “if you don’t wanna spend the night in a empty house, you could always come over to mine.”

⁷⁾ “normally when you invite me to lunch, it’s with everyone else too. what’s so different about this time that you needed me alone?”

⁸⁾ “don’t tell anyone else, but i like working with you the best.”

⁹⁾ “hey, why are me and [name] being split up? you know we do our best work when we’re together.”

¹⁰⁾ “i figured you wouldn’t have the time, so i went and picked up lunch for you.”

¹¹⁾ “wow, someone’s looking good. who’re you trying to impress?”

¹²⁾ “[other coworker] told me you nearly lost it when they all tried blaming me for what happened. why did you care so much?”

¹³⁾ “do you make house calls to all of your coworkers when they call in sick, or am i just that special?”

¹⁴⁾ “why are you freezing me out all of a sudden? I thought you were happy I was dating again, and now you act like it pains you to hear about it.”

¹⁵⁾ “until such a time as the two of you can prove that you can work as well on your own as you do together, you’re going to be put on different schedules.”

¹⁶⁾ “why didn’t you tell me you were up for the promotion? did you seriously think i wouldn’t be happy for you?”

¹⁷⁾ “you do know you’ll be seeing me first thing in the morning, right? what’s so important that it couldn’t wait until then?”

¹⁸⁾ “one date, that’s all i’m asking for. one night to let me show you how good we could be together.”

¹⁹⁾ “i think people are starting to notice that you spend more time at my desk than you do at your own.”

²⁰⁾ “no, you don’t get to do this. you don’t get to make me fall in love with you, and then tell me there’s no way for this to work because of the job!”

[starry-bi-sky]

Blood Blossom Au: Baby's First Commissioner Meeting :)

TL:DR This Post: Danny (orphan) gets poisoned with blood blossom extract by Vlad. He runs away from him and ends up under the care of one Pre-Robin Battinson Batman! Starry is loudly pushing her batdad agenda.

(Also known as "Late At Night, When The Nightingale Sings" on my ao3!)

This was a fun rough idea I've been sitting on for weeks, thinking about how Commissioner Gordon and Nightingale's first meeting might go.

---------------

Commissioner Gordon likes to think that he's adjusting to the new normal of Gotham very well, -- the new normal being grown men running around dressed like bats, in military-grade strength body armor, committing acts of vigilantism, -- and slowly, little by little, he was no longer being surprised when this new normal pops up out of the shadows like the world's most terrifying daisy. His shaving lifespan thanks him for it.

....

The kid is a surprise though.

Granted, he seemed to be a surprise to the Bat too.

There's been a string of murders lately, -- which, in Gotham, is kind of like saying there's been another storm during monsoon season. And there's just been another; in some dilapidated building down in south Gotham, with the broken, boarded-up windows and mildew-crawling walls to match. The victim is a man in his thirties, multiple gunshot wounds to the chest, left in the center of the room for the blood to pool out around him.

The place is already secured when he arrives, the building swarmed with officers and the forensic detectives. The Bat emerges shortly after he does -- or, he might've been here the whole time, hiding someplace dark and shadowy. For his own sanity, Gordon doesn't think about it too hard.

The kid is a surprise, and he appears like a bolt of lightning.

He shows up in the middle of a conversation Gordon is having with the Bat.

A whistle, sharp and loud, slicing through the air, meant for open air rather than a confined space. Gordon's ears pierce and protest the sound, and the solemn, murmured chatter floating through the room abruptly cuts off like the swing of a gavel. As he turns towards the sound -- as they all do -- he swears, up and down, that he sees Batman's shoulders jump, just slightly.

At the source, perched on the window, is a boy. A boy in a gray-blue scarf and an oversized black hoodie, one that hangs off his frame and has ace bandages wrapped around the wrists in some attempt to cinch the sleeves. The hood is up, big like the rest of it, and threatens to swallow the upper half of the boy's face whole in the fabric. What upper half Gordon can see, is smeared with some kind of opaque, black face paint. He's holding onto the side of the frame with one hand, on his hip is a grappling hook. A familiar grappling hook.

Gordon has multiple questions, and his officers tense up.

Martinez puffs up, brows furrowing as his face shapes into a frown. Shoulders rolling back. "You can't be here, kid--"

The reaction is immediate, like a spark to gunpowder, the boy yanks his fingers from his mouth and his mouth twists into a scowl. Head snapping over to Officer Martinez, his hood manages to stay on but Gordon swears that as he bares his teeth, the glint makes them look sharper than they should be. His voice is rasp and quiet and harsh; snappish in its hissing; "Put a fuckin sock in it, Martinez. I'm not stayin."

Martinez reels back, and the boy immediately veers his attention off him. Like a switch, his demeanor drops. Despite half his face being covered, his mouth twists into a cringing, apologetic smile. Slanted and off-beat, embarrassed. It'd be disarming if this wasn't Gotham, and if he didn't just hiss at Martinez like he was about to bite his head off.

"Sorry." He whispers, voice deceptively polite and softer now. Gordon has to strain his ears to hear him. "I was looking for him."

He points his finger towards-- Gordon? No, Gordon follows the direction, and finds himself looking at -- the Bat.

The Bat, who always looks stiff as a pole, now looks even stiffer. Somehow. Well, the explains the grappling hook attached to the boy's waist.

"What are you doing here?" The Bat says, gruff and unable to completely smother the stumble of surprise in his tone.

The boy still holds a sheepish smile, and slips off the window ledge. His feet hit the creaky boards with a near-silent thud, the Batman finds his feet and rapidly begins crossing the room.

Gordon notes the slight tremble in the boy's legs as he straightens. He adjusts his scarf, which droops close to his knees now that he's standing, and slings a backpack -- how long has had that? -- off his shoulders. When the Bat reaches his side, he does as he always does, and looms over the boy like a spectre. A threatening mass of shadows cloaked in all-consuming black. Standing next to him, the boy looks teeny in comparison.

The Bat is a man who terrifies even the most hardened criminals, Gordon has seen grown men shiver in fear at the mention of his name. And yet when the boy looks up at him, he doesn't even flinch.

Instead, his sheepish smile melts away like ice under the sun, holding only traces of his previous embarrassment. It remains as a shadow on his face, a small upturn at the corners of his mouth. The boy pushes his hood back just enough to reveal glinting, ice-flint eyes surrounded in tar-black face paint. He holds the backpack up with one arm. "You forgot this."