#because I haven’t stopped thinking about that

[tinyd3ath]

🎀🩰 Bulking Weight 🎀🩰

“Come on mama, fuck! Just be a good girl and take it so I can give you all my cum. That’s what you want right.”

Or

Bakugou gets a little insecure about the extra weight he gained while bulking, and you fuck the insecurity out of him.

Originally posted on A03

🎀🩰

“This was so much fun.” You practically bouncing with joy. It’s been forever since y’all have been on patrol together.

“Whatever dumbass, don’t slow me down.” You throw a glare his way.

“Don’t forget I’m still your wife, your ass will be on the couch if you keep talking to me like that.”

He scuffs in response knowing not to test you, but still wanting to have the last “word”. You giggle at him. You find it cute how unbothered he tries to seem.

Today seemed to be a pretty calm day for patrol. So far you’ve only broken up two fights, saved a cat, and taken pictures with a few fans.

You guys got a call that you can end the day early since it’s been pretty slow all over the city. You two are walking back to the agency now. Bakugou can feel the excitement rolling off you. He can’t help, but crack a little smirk. Seeing his pretty wife practically glow with excitement lights something inside him. He thought he’d be over all the puppy love by now, but watching you walk down the street smiling while the sun hits your skin making your cheeks look like those caramel/chocolate commercials makes him just wanna sink his teeth in you. In a good way of course.

“What are you so excited about anyways?”

“I was planning on watching the new game of thrones series when we got back, and now I get to watch it earlier than planned” You squeal.

Gosh you’re such a nerd. He never understood why you like those British shows. They all look like their bodies, and breath smell like ass. Yeah, the fight scenes are cool, but other than that what do you watch it for?

He was too busy thinking about how weird your taste in television was to notice a group of teenagers boys walking down the sidewalk towards y’all. He’s shaken out of his thoughts by the force of the tallest in the group shoulder checking him.

“Watch old man.” The tall box dyed blonde says to Bakugou. The kid’s friends all snicker. Bakugou stops , and turns to the group.

“Didn’t your parents teach you to respect your superiors? Especially the ones out here keeping your ass safe.”

The blonde teen just rolled his eyes.

“You should be less worried about my parents, and more worried about your beer belly. Fat ass.” Before he can stop, and think about it Bakugou goes to grab the kid by the collar. But you are quicker, and grab his arm before he can do so.

“Come on I wanna go home.” You plead with your eyes for him to let it go. He really wants to teach these fuckers a lesson, but his need to please you outweighs his need to rub some random brat’s face in the dirt. He grunts in agreement, and lets you drag him away. He can hear the boys laughing as y’all walk away. But all he cares about is getting his pretty wife on the couch surrounded by your favorite snacks.

You use your quirk to knock the kid on his ass before you guys get too far. Teenagers fucking suck.

—

While sitting on the couch with you later he couldn’t help replay what that brat said earlier. He noticed he’d gained a little fat, but it’s because he’s bulking. Was it really that noticeable? Why haven’t you said anything? He started to feel as if he led you on.

When you first meet back in school he wasn’t all jacked, but he was far from fat. The body you feel in love with. The one you loved so much your panties would get wet just from looking at isn’t the same anymore.

Did you still even find him attractive?

Bakugou can’t bring himself to ask you about it. He says that he’ll just watch you carefully to see any signs of discomfort . The problem was you look so unfazed. He can’t tell if it’s because you haven’t noticed, don’t care, or if you’re trying to look unbothered to not hurt his feelings.

His feelings weren’t hurt, maybe his ego was a little bruised. But the fact you’re the type to go around problems that aren’t problems to protect other’s feelings only adds to the uncertainty.

What Bakugou didn’t notice was that you picked up on his discomfort. You noticed the long looks in the mirror after every shower. The not wanting to cuddle every night like he usually does. Most of all the lack of intimacy.

You guys haven’t had sex in almost a week. Every time y’all start to get hot, and heavy he just eats you out the rolls over and says goodnight.

Head is great. But fuck, you wanna feel the weight of your husband on top of you as he makes love to you.

You decid you’ve had enough. Whatever is worrying him so much you’re going find out and fix. At dinner you decide to finally speak about it.

“Katsuki.” Almost immediately Bakugou looks up at you.

“Yes?” Worry lines your face. Bakugou starts to panic thinking something happened to make you upset. Just as he was about to ask if you were okay you cut him off.

“What’s wrong? You’ve been acting different. You haven’t been as affectionate or intimate. Are you not attracted to me anymore?”

Now he really starts to panic. How could you, his beautiful perfect wife ever think you were the problem? How could he not be attracted to you? You were hand crafted by God himself. You are the only woman he could ever love. Never once had he ever questioned your beauty. Even in school when he thought you were annoying, he still found you breathtaking.

“Are you crazy there’s no way I couldn’t be attracted to you.”

“Then what’s the problem?” He pauses, and shaky breath in. Should he lie, or let you know that some punk made him a little insecure?

No, he can’t lie to you. For this whole ‘death do us part’ thing to work he’s gonna have to be honest with you. Even if it makes him uncomfortable.

“…I’m afraid that you don’t find me attractive now that I’ve put on some pounds.” He’s too embarrassed to even look up from his plate. There’s silence for a minute. He starts to worry that he’s actually right. But when he looks up to see your face it’s filled with nothing, but love. You get up from your seat, and walk over to him. You reach out to stroke his cheek.

“There’s nothing that would make me stop loving, or finding you unattractive. And I have noticed the extra pounds, but honestly it’s kinda doing it for me.” You giggle at his stunned face. You pull him in for a kiss. It starts off tinder. Full of the love you two share. But with new found confidence Bakugou starts to get impatient. He missed this. Your body against his. The kiss becomes more intense as he pulls you closer to him.

He lifts you by the back of your knees, and carries you to your shared bedroom. You let out a squeal as you’re dropped on the bed. Bakugou chuckles at you, but you aren’t given enough time to say anything about before he reconnects your lips. He starts moving his kisses lower, and nips at your jaw.

Between nibbles, and kisses Baukgou breathes out “God I’ve missed this”.

You let out a startled moan when he goes lower, and sucks your nipple through your thin shirt. You feel his lips curve into a smirk at your reaction.

You start to get impatient from all the nipping,and kissing. You’ve been deprived of him for too long. You whine as you tug on his shirt letting him know you want it off. Bakugou can’t help,

but coo at you, and give a kiss to your pouty lips.

“I know pretty girl, I know. Just let me taste you first baby.” He peels your clothes off before laying between your legs. His mouth waters every time he see your beautiful cunt. He watches as more slick leaks from you. He uses his thumb to spread it across your lips, before giving your clit the tiniest rub. It’s a ghost of a touch, and it drives you crazy. You start whining down at your husband begging with your pretty eyes for more, and who is he to tell you no? He replaces his hand with his mouth.

He loves the smell, and taste of you. He never thought there’d be a day he would be obsessed with a vagina, but after y’all’s first time he’s been hooked. He licks you like it give him just as much pleasure. The room is filled with your moans, and the sloppy sound of your dripping hole and his mouth . You grab at his hair, and start rolling your hips up into his face. Bakugou’s eyes rolling back at the feeling of you rubbing your juices all over his lower face and nose.

Bakugou sucks your clit between his lips while flicking the tip of his tongue against it. The clinching in your stomach gets tighter, and you know you’re close. But when he slightly nibbles on your clit you know it’s over. You cry out as you ride your orgasm out on his face. After you calm down Bakugou sits up on his knees to see your fucked out expression, and heaving chest.

As good as him eating you out was, it wasn’t what you wanted. You tug at his pants with pleading eyes, expressing what you really want.

“What pretty girl you can’t use your words?” He says in that mockingly sweet voice. He likes seeing his pretty wife like this. All desperate, and sparkling eyed. It’s impossible not to get hard while watching you squirm, and beg for his cock. It’s when you pout up to him all big eyed, and desperate that he gives you what you want. No matter how hard he tries he can’t say no to you. His beautiful sweet wife. If he could he’d give you the universe. He pulls his shirt off, and tosses it across the room. He then removes his belt, and pants leaving him in just his underwear. He starts to feel a little uneasy showing all this extra skin to you, but seeing the hungry look on your face burns it all away.

You feel yourself getting wetter as you stare at your husband’s changed body. You felt the extra weight, but seeing it makes you so much more hornier than you expected. All his bulging muscles. Instead of being lean like before he’s fuller. His stomach has become slightly rounder, and his shoulders, chest, and biceps meatier.

“Fuck I need you.” A evil smirk breaks out across Bakugou’s face.

“Come get it baby.” You tug his underwear down causing his cock to flop out. The swollen pink tip leaks with precum. You give him a few strokes before leaning down, and giving the tip a sweet kiss. You suck the tip into your mouth while wiggling your hips in the air knowing how much he loves seeing your ass move. Bakugou groans at the display. But you only get two head bobs in before he’s pulling you off, and pushing you on your back.

“That can wait for later. Weren’t you just begging me to fuck you. I gotta give my baby what she want.” He smugly says to you.

Bakugou pushes your knees apart and, taps his fat dick on your pussy. He enjoys watching the slight jiggle of your fat lips. He sit his dick between your lips, and lets his dick sit snug between the two. He thrust slowly. His tip catching your clit with every upward thrust. He loves watching the contrast of his dick sliding between your brown lips.

After an impatient “Katsuki” he lines his tip up with your hole, and slowly pushes into you. You both can’t stop the low whines from leaving your lips as he stretches your tight spongy walls around him. He looks to make sure he wasn’t hurting you, and almost blows his load right there.

Seeing your mouth agape, and face scrunched up in pressure causes his dick to twitch inside you.

He can’t stop himself from breathing out a “Fuck baby” at the sight of you laid out so pretty. He starts moving at a steady pace. He leaves kisses all over your face, and shoulders. He can’t stop himself from telling you how good you are between kisses. Something about your gummy walls makes his mind go foggy, and his tongue loose.

“You’re doing so good baby.”

“Taking all of me so well.”

“Come on pretty girl give it to me.”

“Can’t believe this pretty pussy is all mine.” The steady pace was amazing while you were getting use to his size again,but now you were getting impatient and wanting more.

Bakugou is caught off guard when you suddenly pulled him down by his neck, and cross your ankles around his waist. You can’t stand the no skin to skin. All you want is to feel the weight of your husband on top of you while he beats your walls in.

You look up at him with glossy eyes, and beg “please Katsuki, i need more”.

And who the hell was he to tell you no. He gives you one last peck before getting up on his elbows, and thrusting into you like it was his only purpose in life. Your squeals plus the sloppy sound your cunt starts making, makes his mind go hazy. All he can think about is getting you to cum on his cock then stuffing you full of his cum.

You reach between your bodies to give your clit the attention she’s throbbing for. The added sensation makes you squeeze even tighter around him. It’s too much for you both. Bakugou can’t even hold himself up anymore causing him to lay his full body on you,and starts humping into wet soft heat. He subconsciously starts sucking and licking on your neck like a fucking virgin that’s having their first kiss.

You can’t stop your sobs. It’s all too much, and not enough at the same time. You feel so full, yet you want to suck him in deeper. His tip rubbing against your cervix isn’t enough. You want him inside it, smearing his cum against each area of it.

“Katsuki, fuck!” you wail.

“Daddy please!”

“It’s okay baby you can take.” He coos at you.

“No I can’t, it’s too much!”

“Come on baby take it for me.” He pulls you into a sloppy kiss. When you pull apart he says

“Come on mama, fuck! Just be a good girl and take it so I can give you all my cum. That’s what you want right.”

You get out a little ‘mhm’ between sobs.

You feel your climax on the tip of your tongue. He can tell you need a little something more. Bakugou reaches his hand up, and rolls your nipple between his fingers before giving it a pinch.

Your climax hits you like a wave, and drags Bakugou down with you. He continues thrusting making sure he covers all your walls with his cum.

You two lay there holding each other after coming down from your highs. You run your nails through his hair while waiting for your heartbeats to go back to normal. After a few minutes you decide to break the silence.

“You know, nothing could make me stop loving you.” Bakugou feels an intense swell of emotion in his chest. He tries to hide his red cheeks, and teary eyes by burying his face between your breast.

“Fuck how’d I get so lucky?”

[sixpennydame]

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐞.

𝑳𝒆𝒗𝒊 𝑨𝒄𝒌𝒆𝒓𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 // .6k words

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: Possessive!Levi. Sexually explicit content - minors do not interact.

𝐀/𝐍: Written for this anon ask. Based on the song, R U Mine? by Arctic Monkeys

Captain Levi pisses you off.

How can he be sitting across the table from you, listening to Erwin go on and on about Survey Corps funding.

As if he hadn’t been fucking your brains out last night in this very room.

His eyes haven’t even glanced your way since you sat down. Had it all been just an elaborate dream?

No, you know for a fact it wasn’t. You have the kiss marks on your breasts to prove it.

Your mind wanders to the moments Levi had you spread out on this table, his tongue - walls, his magnificent tongue - drawing slow, lethargic circles around your throbbing clit. When you came the first time, he’d looked at you smugly.

“Such a dirty girl, letting me have my way with you here. Aren’t you afraid somebody will catch us?” He asked, undoing the belt of his pants.

“Aren’t you?”

“Not really.” He settled himself between your thighs. “And you’re not going anywhere until I’m completely satisfied.”

Now, sitting amongst your fellow Survey Corps members, that satisfaction feels like a distant memory.

“…Captain Levi, your report.” Erwin’s voice bellows through the meeting hall.

Levi’s chair scrapes across the floor and he stands. You allow your line of sight to flit towards him. His body weight shifts from one leg to the other and your eyes can’t help but move down the contours of his shirt to the waistband of his pants. Your mouth starts to water as you think about how it felt to have his cock in your mouth, his hand in your hair as he thrust a little deeper, seeing how much of him you could take.

“The thrust formation seemed to be effective—“

Wait…

What is Levi talking about?

“—during our last expedition. It allowed my squad and I to move in easily.”

You blink and take a breath. Now everything Levi says in that beautiful baritone voice of his is turning you on.

Get yourself together.

You spend the rest of the meeting looking everywhere but in Levi’s direction. The time drags on as each Squad Leader gives their report, and you begin to wish you could be anywhere else but this room with this man. When the meeting ends and the room is empty, you breathe a sigh of relief.

Until you hear the door close behind you.

“Are you trying to avoid me all day?” a familiar baritone voice asks.

You stand, determined to give him your most nonchalant face. “I should ask you that question. You didn’t look at me once during that meeting.”

Levi quickly closes the distance between you until you bump against the edge of the table. “What? Did you want me to take you again on this table in front of everyone? Such an exhibitionist.”

Just being this close to him again has your core throbbing. His hands land on either side of you, caging you between him and the table as he moves even closer, his lips brushing your earlobe.

“No…” you weakly answer, quickly turning to putty in his hands, “it’s just…”

All coherent thoughts leave you as he begins to pepper kisses along your neck, leaving you speechless.

“Do you want me to tell you that I haven’t stopped thinking about you since last night? That the meeting was torture because all I could see was you?” His hands move up the curves of your waist and he lets out a sigh. “I want to see the marks I made on you.”

Buttons and straps come undone as he releases your breasts. His eyes flash when he sees the purple bruises.

“Tell me, y/n,” his voice is a low growl that sends electricity through your whole body, “tell me you’re mine.”

Do you dare tell him that you’ve been his since the moment you first laid eyes on him? Do you confess that you’d given your body to him before his hands and lips had even claimed you?

Instead, you look deep into those silvery blue eyes and whisper -

“Yes…yes, Levi. I’m yours.”

Join my taglist.

[revelboo]

Might I request more prime wheeljack or just any shockwave?

Also the shockwave himself

Look at him!

18+ Mass displaced mech

Point of Extinction Pt 15

TFP Shockwave x Reader

• “Stress sufficiently mitigated?” He asks, a palm surfing up your side, his cannon pressed against your hip on your other side. Lazily tracing designs on his chassis, your thighs won’t stop trembling. If by mitigated he means are you a boneless, oversensitive mess after you’re not sure how many rounds, then yes. Though to be fair, you’d done all the work. Apparently Shockwave was either too worried about hurting you by accident or he’d just enjoyed being ridden to overload. Repeatedly.

• “For now,” you say, resting your cheek against his chassis and clenching on his spike where he’s still buried deep inside you to make him groan. Suspects you did that on purpose. If you’re done, he should move you and return to his duties, his experiments. Knows it, but doesn’t want to pull out of you. Spark thrumming at the feel of you draped against him. Can feel your heartbeat, your slick heat wrapped so tightly around his spike. “Was this just a one time thing or-?” You trail off, lifting a shoulder. And his antenna flick back. Because he doesn’t want this to be a one time occurrence. That realization surprises him as he growls.

• “No. I will continue to service your needs,” he says, deep voice so solemn you almost crack up. Does he hear the things that he says? “No other partners will be necessary.” Well. You’re not sure what to make of that. But you’re glad he’s not going to share you with his buddies. Though, you’ve never actually seen anyone hanging out with him but you. Other Cybertronians stop by when they need something, but they don’t hang around. Makes you wonder if he’s lonely. If his weirdness creeps out the other aliens so they avoid him.

• “Good to hear,” you reply, a soft finger tracing circles on him. “So what are we now? Scientist and lab rat, still?” Head lifting to try and see you better, his servos slide up your spine as he ponders the question. Because your dynamic has shifted. You haven’t been an experimental test subject for some time, at this point, his processor becomes an uncomfortable mess just thinking of cutting into your soft skin or trying to improve you. Too risky when he’s not certain of the outcome and he enjoys you as you are. Soft and warm. Alive.

• “You’re an unknown variable,” he growls, antenna going back as his servos flex against you. Skin prickling at his tone, you try not to take it personally. It’s not like you expect him to cuddle after, but you still don’t know where you stand with him. Why he’s so invested in your well being. Maybe he was just curious. Wanted some alien booty. But then you remember that ragged ‘no’ when you’d snapped at him, hurting and scared. He’d seemed genuinely upset or as upset as he gets about what you’d said. “More data needed,” he adds, servos and cannon awkwardly lifting you so his spike slides free and you grimace feeling his excess trailing down your thighs. That’s right, it had been three rounds. And his head tips as he sits up holding you out at arms length, watching his slick slide down your inner thigh like it’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen.

Previous

[dylan729]

actually i need to add onto this because it’s driving me insane

i can’t stop thinking about the first one

i can’t get the thought out of my head of house only ever masturbating to the kind of porn he does because anything else makes him sick. it’s hedonistic and empty and it never satisfies him and he’s only chasing another type of high, of momentary release. a few times he masturbates to something more real, but then he is forced to grapple with the actual depth to his loneliness and self isolation and then instead of reaching orgasm he is sent on a spiral

wilson just won’t masturbate. he knows if he does the gay thoughts will set in and he can’t handle that. he’s watched every kind of straight porn there is, maybe as much as house. but where house watches it for empty hedonistic orgasms, wilson watches it because he’s desperate to find some sort of attraction to women. “i’m not gay, i just haven’t found the right girl/my type/my kinks”. he’ll do anything to avoid the truth

my hilson dynamic/interpretation honestly changes by the hour. i bounce between the following states of being:

1) they’ve never had sex, they’ve never kissed, they’ve never done anything, and when it crosses wilson’s mind it’s a paralyzing dark secret. house is fully (tragically) content with keeping the late night thoughts to himself.

2) they’ve slept together intermittently, especially when things go wrong in their personal lives, which already happen to be so caught up together, conveniently. they don’t talk about this either. house almost wants someone to ask/find out, though, hence why he’s always making those jokes.

3) they made out in the early days. wilson lets himself loose with house and the comphet walls come down, if only briefly. it’s been years since the last time, but it keeps wilson and house up at night. maybe this happens once or twice in the series proper.

2 observable constants: they’re not dating AND wilson is gay, struggling with a sickening case of comphet that makes my heart break when i think about it too much.

[anixvl]

BITTER || Y.J

pairing: boxer!jungwon x detective!fem!reader

synopsis: Months after learning the truth of the real mastermind, you and Jungwon are left standing in the aftermath—scarred and unable to pretend that things will go back to what they once were. Just as you both begin to navigate your fragile connection, a new case arises—one that ties directly to your past. A series of brutal murders mimicking your late partner’s case resurface. The deeper you dig, the more it becomes clear: the original mastermind wasn’t working alone. Now, you are once again forced into each other’s lives, uncovering dark secrets while confronting the bitter unspoken emotions that still linger between you both. But trust isn’t easily rebuilt, and love doesn’t erase betrayal. (pt 2 of BITTERSWEET)

genre: Romance, LOTS OF ANGST, enemies-to-lovers-to-enemies trope, thriller, suspense

warnings: smut MDNI, oral f!receiving, d in p, lots of arguing/profanity, mentions of guns & blood, tears tears tears!

wc: 9k (under review)

a/n: hi!! there may be a pt 3, “sweet,” to finish off the series! but it’s still undecided, stay tuned <3

The rain fell in thin sheets, casting a silver haze over the city skyline. You tightened your grip on the steering wheel, your jaw clenched as you forced yourself to focus on the road ahead. The familiar weight of exhaustion pressed against your bones, but it wasn’t just from the late hours or the endless cases piling up on your desk.

It was him.

Jungwon sat in the passenger seat, silent. He hadn’t spoken in the last twenty minutes, not since you begrudgingly agreed to let him come with you. His presence filled the space between you like a loaded gun—dangerous, tense, and ready to explode at any moment.

you hated that he was here.

you hated that you still cared.

"We don’t have to talk, but you can at least stop pretending I don’t exist,” His voice was quieter than you expected, carrying none of the cocky arrogance he used to wear like armor.

You exhaled through your nose, your fingers tightening around the wheel, “I’m not pretending. I just have nothing to say to you."

Jungwon let out a soft laugh—bitter, edged with something unreadable, “That’s worse."

You didn’t respond.

Because what were you supposed to say?

That you haven’t stopped thinking about him in months since that day at your house?

That every time you closed your eyes, you could still feel the way his hands had held you, the way he had whispered your name like it meant something?

No. You wouldn’t give him that.

Not after what happened.

Not after shattering your heart.

The GPS beeped, signaling the destination. You turned off the ignition and reached for the case file in the back seat, ignoring the way Jungwon watched you. He was waiting for something—for a sign, a crack in your walls, anything to prove that you weren’t as indifferent as you pretended to be.

But you wouldn’t give him that, either.

you stepped out of the car, rain misting against your skin.

The warehouse loomed ahead, abandoned and rotting at the edges. The call had come in this morning—a body found inside, the method eerily similar to the one that had haunted you for the past year. Your partner’s murder.

Your stomach twisted.

Someone was playing with you.

And you weren’t sure you were ready to face it, but ready or not, you didn’t have much of a choice.

It all started on that day. The day at your house, when you first found out the sickening truth.

The tension in the room was suffocating. Seokjin sat behind his desk, his usual smirk absent, his sharp eyes locked onto you. The air between you was thick with months of bad blood, with every accusation you had ever thrown his way.

"You’ve got five minutes before I throw you out," Seokjin said coolly, swirling a glass of whiskey in his hand.

You pulled the flash drive from your pocket and tossed it onto the table.

"Play it."

Seokjin arched an eyebrow but picked up the drive, inserting it into his laptop. The moment your partner’s voice filled the air, his expression shifted—just slightly.

By the time the recording ended, Seokjin exhaled through his nose, closing his eyes briefly.

"He tried to tell you," he muttered.

Your jaw clenched, “I didn’t know."

Seokjin let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head, "No, you didn’t. Because you were too busy trying to kill me."

You didn’t react. He wasn’t wrong.

You had let your grief blind you. Let the pain make you reckless. And in doing so, you had been chasing the wrong enemy this entire time.

"I need your help," you admitted.

The words felt foreign on your tongue, but you forced them out, "I don’t know how deep this goes, but I know my partner died trying to bring it to light. And if they find out I know the truth, I’ll be next."

Seokjin leaned back in his chair, studying you. Then, after a long moment, he let out a slow sigh.

"So. The detective finally realizes she’s been hunting the wrong man."

You clenched your fists, “I don’t need a speech, Seokjin. I need to finish what my partner started. He was our friend. Help me take down the people who really did this."

A tense silence stretched between you both. Then, to your surprise, Seokjin chuckled.

"You’re lucky I don’t hold grudges, detective."

You arched an eyebrow, “That’s funny, considering you spent months trying to kill me and even locked me up."

Seokjin smirked, standing up, “Fair enough."

Then, his expression darkened, “But you’re right about one thing. Whoever’s behind this? They’re not just coming for you. They’ll come for me. They’ll come for Jungwon, too. Which means…" He extended a glass of alcohol for you to take, "We’re in this together."

You hesitated—but only for a moment. Then you grasped the glass from his hand, swallowing it down—sealing the deal.

Because this time, you knew exactly who the real enemy was.

And you weren’t going to stop till you were satisfied.

The warehouse smelled of rust and decay. The air was thick with something else, too—something heavier, something familiar.

You stepped inside, your boots barely making a sound against the cracked concrete. The body lay in the center of the room, partially covered with a tarp. Red pooled beneath it, dark and glistening, seeping into the floor like a stain that would never wash away.

Jungwon moved beside you, silent. He watched you carefully as you looked at the scene before you. He wanted to be there for you, despite your barriers. He wasn’t supposed to be here—you didn’t want him here—but somehow, he had a way of inserting himself into things you wanted to keep far, far away from him.

"Same MO?"His voice was steady, but you knew him well enough to hear the tension beneath it.

You crouched beside the body, your fingers ghosting over the cold edge of the tarp before you pulled it back. The sight sent ice through your veins.

A clean shot to the chest. A knife wound to the abdomen. The precision of it was deliberate, almost surgical.

Exactly like your partner.

your stomach twisted.

"This isn’t a coincidence," you muttered, "Someone’s sending a message."

Jungwon was quiet for a moment before he asked the question you didn’t want to answer, "You think it’s connected to his murder?"

You exhaled, standing, “I don’t think. I know.”

You turned to face him, and for the first time since you let him come with you, you let yourself meet his gaze fully. There was something in his eyes—something unreadable, a storm brewing beneath the surface.

It irked you how, despite everything, your body never failed to react to him. You hated how your heart skips a beat at the sight of him. Your shortness of breath near him. And the stupid, stupid, feeling of wanting his touch. You looked away.

"This isn’t over," you said, your voice steady.

Jungwon nodded, his jaw tight, “Then let’s end it."

The words should have been comforting. They weren’t.

Because ending it meant reopening wounds that had never fully healed. It meant severing ties that bounded you both together. And you weren’t sure either of you were ready for that.

The night was thick with silence as you walked back to the car, the dim light from the streetlamps flickering over the rain-slick pavement. Your steps were quick, purposeful, though your mind was miles away. Every instinct told you to push him away—push him far away—but there he was, walking beside you like nothing had changed.

And everything had changed.

Jungwon was supposed to be a ghost in your life, an ex you had buried with the pain and regret of your past. Yet, somehow, he kept finding his way back. Every time you thought you had moved on, every time you thought you could lock away the pieces of yourself you had given him, he tore through the walls again, leaving you wide open.

You tried not to look at him as you fumbled with the keys to the car.

"You don’t have to come with me," you said quietly, your voice betraying none of the turbulence inside you.

Jungwon didn't respond immediately, and for a moment, you thought he might listen, that maybe he was starting to understand the depth of your walls. But then he spoke, his voice softer than you expected.

"You know I’m not going anywhere."

The rain had finally stopped, leaving behind a heavy mist that clung to the streets, distorting the neon glow of the city like a mirage. You leaned against the hood of the car, staring at the warehouse in front of you.

Jungwon was beside you, his presence like an anchor—his silence louder than any words he could’ve spoken. He hadn’t said much since you got in the car. He wasn’t the same cocky, reckless fighter you had once known. He was different, quieter, broken in a way you couldn’t understand. And yet, here he was, once again dragged into your mess, whether he liked it or not.

"You can’t keep chasing this, Y/n," Jungwon said, suddenly closer, his voice firm, bordering on pleading, “Whatever this is, it’s going to end up destroying you."

“You think I don’t know that?" You turned to face him, your fists clenched by your sides.

“I don’t care if this is bigger than us. My partner died without receiving justice. The murderer is still out there.”

"And you think you can fix it? By yourself?" Jungwon’s tone was almost incredulous, but there was a quiet fear in his eyes now—a fear that you hadn’t seen before.

"I don’t need your help, Jungwon,” Your words were cold, sharp.

But they weren’t the truth. You did need him. You needed him more than you cared to admit.

Jungwon’s face hardened, and for a moment, it felt like you were standing on the edge of a precipice—one wrong move and everything would crumble. He stepped back, his hands shoved deep into his pockets as he stared at you with a mixture of frustration and something else.

Something you hadn’t seen in a while.

He was always putting effort in trying to gain your forgiveness. Always supportive, taking care of you, sweet gestures, affectionate phrases, he’s tried doing it all.

This was his breaking point.

"Fine," he said after a long pause, his voice low, “Do it on your own then."

But just as he turned to leave, something in you snapped. The frustration, the years of pain, the endless cycle of not being able to fix the past—it all came crashing down.

And suddenly, for a split second, you were the girl from months ago who was head over heels for Jungwon. Before the betrayal, before the lies, before the pain.

You grabbed him by the arm, spinning him back around.

"I need you, Jungwon,” Your voice broke slightly, but you refused to let it show.

"I need you to help me fix this. Because if you don’t, I’ll do it myself. And I don’t care what happens to me in the process,” your eyes glossed as tears begin to form.

You didn’t understand it yourself, you hated him being around but hate it worse when he’s away from you.

Deep down, you must’ve known, you’ve gotten to the point in which you can’t be without him. Not even if you wanted to.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Jungwon’s guard lowered. He looked at you—really looked at you—like he was seeing you for the first time. Your eyes were full of desperation, yes, but also something darker, something you’d buried deep inside for far too long.

Love.

"You’re not alone," he whispered, his voice quieter and softer now, filled with something that almost sounded like regret.

He took his hands out from his pockets, cupping your face tenderly. You instantly melt into his touch, feeling your anger almost wash away. He looked into your eyes, searching for the girl you once were.

Back when you loved him so wholeheartedly.

"I’ll help you. But you have to promise me one thing,” he said, drawing soft circle on your cheek with his thumb.

Your brows furrowed, "What?"

"Promise me you won’t destroy yourself in the process."

The words hung between you, heavy with meaning. For a moment, you were quiet, the weight of everything pressing down on your shoulders. You didn’t know how to answer—didn’t know if you could promise him that. But in the end, you nodded.

"Fine," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I’ll try."

Jungwon didn’t speak again, but his kiss on your forehead was all the confirmation you needed. You were in this together, whether you wanted it or not.

The morning after was nothing like you imagined. Inside your bedroom, the light through the blinds was dim, casting long shadows over the space. You stood by the window, staring out at nothing in particular, your mind far away, racing over the events that had brought you to this point.

Jungwon was still asleep, sprawled across the bed with his face to you. The sight of him, so vulnerable in sleep, made something twist inside of you. He had become a person you could barely recognize, and yet, something about the way he protected you—no matter how messy it got—still made you believe there was something worth saving.

But you couldn’t forget how you had gotten here. The anger. The betrayal. It all still felt raw.

You had been fighting this case alone for so long. And in the back of your mind, you knew—no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t do it without him. But that didn’t mean you would let your guard down. You couldn’t afford to.

When you turned to look at him again, Jungwon was shifting in his sleep, a low groan escaping his lips. You hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to even approach him. You had so many questions, but none of them felt like they mattered. Not yet.

You walked over to the desk, grabbing the file that had caused everything to spiral. Your fingers skimmed the pages, still looking for something that could tie all the loose ends together. There was too much at stake. Too many pieces missing.

"You really can’t sleep, huh?"

His voice was rough, but it was familiar, and it made you freeze in place. You didn’t turn around immediately. Instead, you stood there, still clutching the file, wondering how to fix everything.

"You still thinking about last night?" he continued, his voice softer this time, like he knew exactly what you were feeling.

You finally turned around, meeting his gaze. His dark eyes were intense, but there was something unreadable in them. You couldn’t tell if he was angry, frustrated, or just tired.

"Yeah." The word came out sharper than you intended. "I need answers, Jungwon."

His gaze softened for a moment, and then his mouth twisted into a half-smile, “I know you do."

He sat up and opened his arms to you. The room felt smaller now, the space between you both charged with the tension that had been building ever since you decided to work together. He wasn’t who he used to be. But Neither were you. But in some ways, that was what made everything feel more real. You slowly made your way inside his arms. Your body instantly melted against him, feeling a soft, heavy, sigh escape your lips.

"You’re not gonna let it go, are you?" he asked quietly, holding you tightly, "You think I don’t see it in your eyes?"

You shook your head slowly, “I can’t. Not when I’m this close to finding out who did it."

He was silent for a long moment, and the only sound in the room was the hum of the air conditioner. You weren’t sure if he was contemplating something or just frustrated, but when he finally spoke again, it was with a weariness that didn’t match his usual bravado.

"You know, sometimes, there’s no closure."

The words hit you harder than you expected, and you could feel the sting in your chest. You knew that. You knew it better than anyone. But that didn’t mean you were willing to accept it.

"You’re wrong," you whispered, turning to face him, "I can’t just walk away from this. If I do, I’ll never be able to look at myself the same way again."

There was a long pause. Then you felt Jungwon tenderly caress the top of your head, gazing at you with such intensity. You could feel the weight of his touch, warm and familiar, and it made your heart race in a way you weren’t prepared for.

"I get it," he said, his voice gentle now. "But you promised me something."

You turned to face him, your breath catching in your throat.

"You won’t lose yourself in all of this. You can’t let it destroy you. You can’t let it be your whole world."

You swallowed hard, the weight of his words hitting you like a punch to the gut. How could you promise him that? How could you promise him you wouldn’t burn yourself out chasing after a ghost when you weren’t sure if you could handle the truth?

But in that moment, you realized something. You didn’t know how to let go. And you didn’t know how to trust again. But maybe—just maybe—he was right. Maybe you needed to find a way to let the case be part of your life, not your entire existence.

You nodded slowly, meeting his eyes, "I know."

And just like that, the air between you shifted. There was still so much left unsaid, but for the first time in a long time, you both knew you were on the same side. Together, for better or worse.

The investigation had hit a dead end. Every lead you chased only seemed to open more questions, but none of the answers ever brought you closer to the truth. Every night, you lay awake, staring at the ceiling of your bedroom, wondering if you were wasting your time, wondering if you had already missed something important.

Jungwon had been quieter since that night—still here, still present, but something had shifted. It was like a wall had gone up between the two of you, even though you were both stuck in the same place, in the same mess.

He could feel the distance growing. And that hurt more than anything.

Jungwon had spent the last few months trying to earn back your trust, be worthy of your love again. To go back to how things were, how much you loved each other despite the mess you both were in.

The touches, the gazes, the affection, the laughs, the nights you spent entangled in each other’s arms. He wanted it all back. More than anything. But it seemed the more he reached for you, the more you seemed far away. So close yet so far. Oceans apart.

He was done with it.

You pushed yourself up from the bed, throwing on your jacket and grabbing your keys. Your room was suffocating, its stale air mixing with the heavy tension in the room. You needed space, needed to think.

When you stepped outside, the cool air hit your face, a welcome relief from the suffocating silence inside. The world outside your room was just as empty as it felt in your mind. You walked down the street with no clear destination in mind, your thoughts swirling, trying to make sense of everything.

“Y/n."

Jungwon’s voice cut through the silence, and you stopped in your tracks, turning slowly. He stood a few feet behind you, his hands in his pockets, his frantic breath vaporizing into the cold air.

He had ran to follow you.

You didn’t say anything. Instead, you just met his gaze, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"You’re pushing yourself too hard,” His voice was low, his concern hidden beneath layers of uncertainty, "We need to step back, rethink the case. There’s something we’re missing."

You shook your head, “No. I’m close. I can feel it. I just need to find the right piece."

"You’ve been saying that for weeks!” he bursted, frustration creeping into his tone, “…But we’ve been chasing shadows, y/n. We need a new approach."

You were silent for a long time. The anger that had been simmering beneath the surface was bubbling up again, but this time, it was mixed with something else. Something raw. Something you didn’t want to face.

"You don’t get it, Jungwon," you finally snapped.

"You don’t know what it’s like to feel like you’re losing everything, and you can’t fix it. You don’t know what it’s like to be constantly looking over your shoulder, wondering if you’re going to lose another person you care about!”

Jungwon’s expression softened, and he stepped closer to you, his eyes locking onto yours with a tenderness that made your breath catch. He didn’t say anything at first—just let the words hang in the air between you.

And for a moment, you thought you might crack. You thought you might let the anger go and let him in.

But then the weight of everything came crashing back. You weren’t ready to let him back in, not when you still didn’t trust yourself.

You took a step back, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Don’t. Don’t say anything—Don’t do anything,” you stated, your voice trembling. Your eyes watered.

The words came out harsher than you intended, and you saw the flash of hurt in his eyes. But before he could respond, you turned away, walking quickly down the street, trying to outrun the suffocating feeling of being trapped.

You didn’t want to hurt him. You didn’t want to push him away. But you couldn’t help yourself. You were scared. Scared of losing him.

Scared of what would happen if you let him too close again.

You didn’t realize how far you’d gone until you found yourself standing in front of the alleyway, the one where your partner had died. The sight of it made your stomach turn. Memories flooded back—his laughter, his promise that everything would be okay. The days he would accompany you to your parent’s graveyard. Your birthdays he’d make sure to celebrate, knowing you were too busy to remember. He might not have been blood, but your connection went further than that. You had failed him.

And finally, you let go. You squat to the ground, soft and frustrated sobs escaping your mouth.

So close, yet so far. It’s never enough. Why?

"You’re not alone."

Jungwon’s voice echoed in your mind, and you felt the weight of his words like a rope pulling you back.

You were so focused on the past that you hadn’t even realized Jungwon had followed you. You turned, startled, only to see him standing a few feet behind you. He wasn’t angry anymore. He was just... there.

He met your glistening eyes. His face softened. You got up, wiping away your endless tears. You looked away.

"I know you’re scared," he said quietly, "But pushing me away won’t help you. You don’t have to carry this burden alone."

You stared at him, your heart aching. You wanted to fight it. You wanted to tell him to leave, that you didn’t need anyone. But the truth was, you did need him.

You needed him more than you were willing to admit.

You took a step closer to him, your voice trembling as you spoke in broken sobs.

"I’m scared, Jungwon. Scared that if I get too close to anyone again, I’ll lose them. And I don’t know if I can survive that again,” you cried, slightly losing your balance from exhaustion.

He reached out instantly, gripping onto your arm. He pulled you close. The touch was soft, comforting. He didn’t say anything at first. He didn’t need to. You could feel the understanding between you, the shared pain, the shared fear.

"I love you," he breathed out, his voice firm but gentle, "so ardently."

And for once, you allowed yourself to believe that. You didn’t have all the answers. You didn’t know how everything would turn out. But with Jungwon by your side, you felt like maybe—just maybe—you could find a way through the darkness.

And that was enough for now.

Before you knew it, his lips connected with yours. Your hands gripped onto his jacket, the force of his kiss pushing against you. Your lips instantly melted into his. He kissed you with such longing and relief. He sighed against your lips, placing his warm hand onto your cheek. He tilted your head back slightly, deepening the kiss. Your eyes shuttered close, allowing yourself to get lost into him.

your heart fluttered, a familiar feeling that brought you joy.

He pulled away, looking into your eyes in desperation.

“Let’s go back home,” he said.

Home.

Yes, that’s where you longed to be. That’s where you are meant to be. A place where you share a space and affection with Jungwon, Home.

You were too busy to notice it before. You had it there all along. You were never alone. He was there. Every second and step of the journey. He is home.

You nod, a genuine smile plastered across your face. He flashed you a dimpled smile, one you haven’t seen in a while. He grabbed your hand, interlocking his fingers with yours. He led the way back to your home, tightly gripped onto your hand.

As if savoring the moment, to make sure it’s real. Scared of letting go, as if you were to disintegrate with the wind. As if he was a threat of losing you any second.

You close the door behind you. When you turn around, Jungwon cups your face again, smashing his lips onto yours. You softly yelp against his lips, startled. You grip onto him tightly, closing your eyes. Despite being outside in the cold, you can’t help but to feel like you’re burning up.

Jungwon picks you up and you immediately wrap your legs around his torso, refusing to break the kiss. He leads you to your room, softly dropping you onto the bed. You both rush off your clothes, desperate and hungry for each other.

He hovers over you, kissing you passionately. Your eyes shuttered clothes, your arms wandering around his bare back and chest.

You needed this, badly. His touch, his warmth, his closeness to you. It had been a long time since you both last were ever this close, let alone this intimate.

“Missed this so much,” he murmured against the kiss, “missed you so much.”

His hand travelled down to your pantie lining, pulling it down slowly by its hem. You let him. His lips trailed down to your neck, sucking softly onto your skin, marking and leaving trails of him on you behind.

He unclasped your bra, sucking in the bud of your breasts. You moaned softly, closing your eyes in pleasure. He sucked onto the soft skin around your breasts, leaving more love bites. He rubs his fingers onto your wet cunt, plastering your wetness around his fingers. He inserts one finger in, slowly and almost punishingly.

“F-Fuck, Jungwon,” you breathed out, gripping onto him.

Then, he inserts another. He slowly pumps his fingers in and out of you, causing your mouth to fall agape in pleasure. He watched your lewd reactions to him, fascinated by your mesmerizing beauty and pleasure given to you. His dick became hard at the sight of you and the feeling of you clenching around his fingers.

“Yeah? you want me to continue, pretty?” he teased, kissing you sloppily in order to muffle your broken moans.

“Can you take my cock now, baby?” he said, kissing your neck softly.

You nodded, a moan in response, “mhm..”

He took his fingers out, sucking onto them. He took his boxers off, his cock begging to be released from the tightness of it. He aligned himself with your entrance, teasing you with his tip.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he breathed out, “so ready for me.”

And with that, he pushed himself into you. He groaned, as you clenched around his cock tightly. You instantly feel full. He starts to move slowly, waiting till you get adjusted to him.

“You’re so beautiful,” he gazed down at you under him, so defenseless and in pleasurable daze.

He picked up his pace, his cock glistening from your wetness. You whimpered, gripping onto the bed sheets.

He leaned over you once again, using his arms to prop himself up. He kisses you as he thrusts his hips deep against yours. You struggle to kiss him back, causing a sly smirk on his lips against the kiss. He breaks the kiss, quickening his pace mercilessly. whines and soft groans come from the both of you, in a rhythmic sync, deepening the intimacy shared between each other.

It’s just as you remembered. Connected, interlinked, as if no one has touched you quite the way Jungwon has. No one else compares.

The soft moans of his name drove him crazy. It was like a melody, an addictive tune he could never get tired of. All he wanted was to continue hearing it, pleasuring you. Loving you. Consuming you.

He pounded relentlessly into you, his cock twitching as he approached his orgasm. You gripped onto his back tightly, your nails digging into his skin.

“I love you,” he breathed, “I love you so much.”

Your body arched into him, feeling the tight knot in your stomach threatening to undo.

You wanted to say it back, but your mind was so fucked-out to build coherent words.

Instead, you just held him, tightly. You held his tender gaze, exchanging meaningful messages beyond words.

‘I know. I love you, too.’

His head rested on the crook of your neck, inhaling the scent of your skin and hair. The scent of both of your bodies interlinked. The scent of him on you.

You wrapped your legs around his hips, crying out in pleasure.

“Yes, oh, just like that,” you whined, “m’cumming.”

Jungwon thrusted his hips harder into you, hitting your spot with no fail. Your eyes shut close, mouth agape, as you reach your orgasm hard.

“Fuck, pretty, cum on my cock,” he grunted, thrusting slowly but hard, riding out your high.

His cock twitched as he released his load into you. Your legs quivered, feeling yourself recover from your hard orgasm. Jungwon kissed your cheek softly before plopping next to you, exhausted. You were both sweaty, tired, and still panting. His bare chest glistened in sweat yet he seems so attractive. You reach out to cup his face, he grabs your hand and plants a tender kiss on your palm. You smile.

“Do you want to take a bath or get some sleep?” he asked, moving away a strand of your hair from your face.

“To be honest, I don’t think I can walk right now,” you laughed.

He chuckles, “I’ll carry you.”

You nod, flashing him a soft smile. He gets up, sweeping you off the bed and into his arms. You hold onto him tightly, as he takes you to the bathroom. He places you gently onto the counter, capturing your lips softly. The kiss is softer this time, tender, and sweet. With a wet sound of the kiss, he breaks away. He turns around to prepare the bath for you. Dipping his hands into the bathtub, he looks over at you.

“It’s ready, pretty,” he said, walking over to you.

You climb off the counter, he holds you for support. You slowly get into the bathtub, Jungwon following. A soft sigh of relief escapes your lips at the feeling of the warm bubbly water. Jungwon holds you from behind, leaving soft kisses on your shoulder. You melt into him, allowing yourself to rest against his chest.

“Better?” he asks, kissing the side of your head.

You smile, “Much better. Thank you.”

The tension in the air had lessened in the days that followed. It was easier to breathe, to speak, and to be in each other’s company. It wasn’t exactly like how it used to be, but it was a step closer to it.

Every step you took seemed to lead you further into the web of lies, but none of the pieces fit. It wasn’t just about your partner’s death anymore. It was about a deeper conspiracy, something that reached far beyond what you had ever imagined.

Jungwon had been quieter, more thoughtful, his sharp eyes noticing things you missed. The two of you had spent hours combing through records, analyzing evidence, and following up on any leads that seemed even remotely promising. But nothing had connected. Nothing made sense.

Not until now.

You sat at the table in the dining room, your mind running through the reports in front of you. The scattered photos of your partner, the witness statements, the security footage that seemed to repeat the same things over and over again—until something caught your eye.

"Wait a second," you muttered, your finger tracing a line on the page. Jungwon, who had been sitting across from you, leaned in, his curiosity piqued.

"What is it?" He asked, a faint edge of urgency in his voice.

You flipped the page to a new report, showing the names of officers involved in the initial investigation. Most of the names were familiar—colleagues you had worked with, trusted for years. But one name stood out to you, circled in red ink by a source you hadn’t recognized.

"This guy," you said, tapping the name with your finger, “Officer Han Joon."

Jungwon frowned, “I don’t know him. Should I?"

"He’s one of the officers who was first on the scene after my partner was killed," you explained, your mind beginning to race, “But what I didn’t realize at the time was that he’s also been involved in a number of other high-profile cases that were later marked as unsolved or closed for ‘lack of evidence.’"

You paused, staring at the report, your pulse quickening.

"It doesn’t make sense. What if the rat is closer than we thought? What if it’s him, ‘someone inside the department,’ just as Hyunjin said?"

Jungwon leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing as he processed what you had said, "If Officer Han’s involved… that means someone in the department’s been helping the mastermind all along. Giving him the inside info, covering his tracks."

The weight of his words hit you hard. The realization that the danger you were facing wasn’t just coming from the outside—it really was also already inside the walls you had trusted.

"We need to get to him," you said, your voice low, determined, “We need to find out what he knows."

Jungwon nodded, standing up. He was already slipping on his jacket, his expression set, “We’ll need to be careful. We don’t know who’s watching us."

You nodded, the familiar chill of danger settling in. But this time, it didn’t feel like something you could run from. You couldn’t back down now—not when you were so close to the truth.

The two of you moved quickly, gathering the evidence you had and heading toward the police precinct where Officer Han worked. The building was busy with activity, the hum of officers and detectives moving between desks and filing cabinets. But despite the seeming normalcy, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was watching you. Every time you passed an officer, you felt their gaze linger just a little too long, a little too knowingly. It was almost as if they could tell you were onto something.

You and Jungwon split up, each of you taking different routes to avoid drawing suspicion. You knew Han’s schedule—he usually worked the late shift, spending hours at his desk. You made your way to the back of the department, where the file room was kept, the one that was usually off-limits to anyone except senior officers.

It wasn’t hard to find a way in. You had the right credentials—though they felt fake now, like you were wearing a mask you didn’t quite recognize. You slipped past the guarded door, heading straight for the row of locked cabinets where sensitive files were kept.

Jungwon had already hacked into the system, disabling the security cameras for the moment. You were in, but the clock was ticking. If Han showed up early, you would be trapped, exposed, and most likely caught. But you were running out of time.

You pulled out the files, your heart racing as you rifled through the papers, skimming over each one, looking for any clue that would tie Han Joon to the mastermind. You weren’t sure how long you had before the others would catch on, but you weren’t about to let that stop you. Not when you were so close.

"Found something," Jungwon’s voice echoed through the comms in your ear, and you froze. His tone was low, cautious.

"What is it?" you whispered, still flipping through the papers in front of you.

"Han’s phone records. He’s been in contact with someone outside the city. Someone with a criminal background. They’re scheduled to meet next week, at a warehouse on the outskirts of town."

Your heart skipped a beat. This was it. This was the break you had been waiting for.

"We need to go," you said, quickly grabbing the most relevant files. You didn’t hesitate.

"We’ll confront him. We take him down then, for now we need to make a plan."

As you and Jungwon raced to your car, your mind was already working through the next steps. This was the moment you’d been working toward, but with it came a sense of dread. Officer Han was one piece of the puzzle, alongside with other newly discovered suspects to investigate. But if you were right, it meant the mastermind was still out there, still pulling the strings. And now, you had a target on your back.

"Y/n," Jungwon said as you slid into the passenger’s seat, his voice low but steady, “We don’t know how deep this goes. We’ll need to be careful."

You nodded, bringing your hand to caress his cheek, “Of course.”

Tonight, you weren’t just chasing for the truth. You were fighting for your life. One you have found worth living for: Him.

Once you both returned home, you immediately went into inspecting all the files you took. Jungwon joined, as always, by your side. A few hours later, you had a list of prime suspects to investigate. Exhausted and evidently stressed, you slumped into your chair. You dropped the piles of paperwork onto the table, calling it a night.

Jungwon looked over at your tense expression. He got up from his seat, walking over behind you. He took a look at the paperwork you had. His hands gently massaged your shoulders, causing you to close your eyes in satisfaction.

“You need to relax, pretty,” he said, “you’re so tense.”

You keep your eyes closed, enjoying every bit of the massage. You softly moaned in satisfaction, a signal for him to continue. His mouth curled into a sly smirk. He leaned over to your neck, placing soft kisses from behind. Slow, sensual, deliberate.

“Jungwon,” you breathed out.

“yes, baby?” he whispered, walking over to lift you onto the table.

You open your eyes, startled. Before you can question him, he positions himself between your legs, his hands resting onto your waist. He kisses you, gently. You kiss him back, lazily, your exhaustion getting the best of you.

“Let me take care of you,” he offered, “just relax, okay?”

You don’t protest, instead you just nod. His hands pull onto the hem of your pants, pulling them off. He plays with the hem of your panties, before taking those off, too.

Too sleepy and in daze, you didn’t realize what was happening till your panties were on the floor. Your eyes widen slightly in realization. But it was already too late.

“Jungwon, wait—”

He takes a few long, slow, wet licks onto your cunt. You bit back a moan, gripping onto the table. He pushed open your legs apart, opening you up on display on the dining table like a meal. Then, he enfolds your cunt into his mouth. You moan, gripping onto his hair. Wet slurping sounds and the sound of your whines fill the room.

“ngh…jungwon,” you moaned.

He looked up at you, meeting your sultry expression. He swears he could cum at the sight of you like this. His tongue sloppily glides onto your cunt, sucking and flicking your bean. Your legs tremble, your breath is rigid.

“Feels so good,” you whimpered.

Jungwon stuffed his face deeper, savoring and devouring all your juices like a starved man. He needed more of you. All of you.

He pushed you onto your back, forcing you to lay on top of all the paperwork. Now propped open on the dining table, Jungwon ate you out passionately.

Your legs shifted uncontrollably, your hands laced within his hair. Insistent moans slipped from your mouth, instinctively pushing his head further into your cunt.

Jungwon wrapped his arms around your thighs, deepening his tongue into your cunt. Wetness dripped from his chin from his sloppy mess on your cunt.

“I’m—ngh,” you fisted his hair, pushing him closer as you approached your orgasm.

Your back arched into him, no longer caring a bit about the time you spent organizing the paperwork on the table.

And then, finally, with a loud gasp the knot in your stomach came undone. Your breathing was rigid, your body trembling from the ecstasy.

Jungwon smirked, wiping away the wetness from his chin.

“Let’s get you to bed, yeah?” he whispered, grabbing you from the table and tossing you over his shoulder.

You yelped in surprise, holding onto him. He gently dropped you onto the bed sheets, in which he tucked you into. It wasn’t long before he got under the covers, enfolding you into his arms. You melted in his arms, the rhythm of his heartbeat bringing a sense of calming to you. You inhaled his scent, as if memorizing it by heart. You both drifted off to sleep, entangled into each other’s arms. And even during the night, when you would quietly jerk awake from nightmares, you couldn’t help but to think.

‘I don’t want this to end,’ you thought.

‘I want to be selfish. I want to pursue this stupid dream with just the both of us.’

You could feel it in your bones, with every breath you took: the guilt. Could it really work out?

Could you really be happy, be selfish for once and have it all?

The past still crept up on you, even when you told yourself it was time to let go. Jungwon had started to repair your broken heart, putting back the pieces. Slowly, but surely.

You wanted to be selfish. You wanted to let your guard down. You deserved it.

But despite it all; it was only a matter of time before it all came crashing down.

it started with a lie.

Or maybe it started long before that—with the wounds they never let heal, with the trust you both never fully rebuilt. Either way, by the time you found out, it was already too late.

You stormed into your apartment, slamming the door hard enough to rattle the walls. Jungwon barely had time to react before you threw a crumpled piece of paper onto the table between you both.

"What the hell is this?" you demanded.

Jungwon frowned, picking it up. His chest tightened the second he saw what it was—a file, fresh off the precinct database, detailing an anonymous payment wired to a key witness in their case. One that was meant to be there at the meeting spot you figured out. But, now that Jungwon approached him, the key witness must’ve snitched on you and fled with the money by now. It was a dumb mistake: a fatal one.

Blood drained from his face.

You saw it.

"You bribed him?" you spat, your voice laced with disbelief and something far painful, “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?"

Jungwon exhaled, running a hand through his hair, "It wasn’t a bribe, y/n. You needed answers, and you were slowly becoming miserable without them. I couldn’t see you like that. And he wasn’t going to talk unless he had a reason to."

"So you threw money at him?" You let out a humorless laugh, "Great. That’s real reliable evidence."

‘Just an arrogant rich boy,’ you thought. You hated the selfish actions of him, which he carelessly does because he knows he can do them. With no worry, no thought. Because he has people to protect him, money to support him, and higher-ups to keep him out of trouble. You hated how low he stooped.

Doesn’t that make him equal to who you’re going after?

Jungwon’s jaw clenched, “I did what I had to do."

"No," you shot back, stepping closer, your eyes burning with rage, "You did what you wanted to do, without telling me. Without even thinking about the consequences."

Jungwon’s patience snapped, “And what the hell have you been doing, y/n? Losing yourself over this?You put a gun to my fucking head to force me into this shit, but now you’re acting like you’re the only one allowed to make choices?"

Your eyes narrowed at him, "I didn’t blackmail you for fun, Jungwon. I needed help—I needed someone I could trust."

Your voice broke slightly on the last word.

And that was what did it.

Because you had trusted him. And now, here you both were, in the same cycle of betrayal, the same aching disappointment.

Jungwon felt his pulse hammering in his skull. He wanted to explain. He wanted to tell you that it hadn’t been about secrecy, or control, or hurting you. He just wanted to end this war before it destroyed you both. But most importantly, you.

It’s always been about you.

But instead, the words that left his mouth were the wrong ones.

"Maybe I never should have come back."

And just like that, whatever fragile thread had been holding you both together—snapped.

Silence crashed over the room like a violent wave, drowning everything in it.

You stared at him, your breath catching in your throat. For a second, just a split second, he saw something in your eyes—something that almost looked like hurt. But then it was gone, replaced by cold, hard indifference.

You let out a short, humorless laugh, “Then go."

Jungwon clenched his jaw, running a hand through his hair as he exhaled sharply. He hadn’t meant it. Not like that. But the damage was already done, and you…

you weren’t the type to let a wound fester without striking back.

"You know what’s funny?" you said, stepping closer, her voice smooth, lethal.

“I used to think i needed you,” you said.

Jungwon’s heart slammed against his ribs.

"Y/n—"

"I thought that maybe—just maybe—you could make up for the way you left, for the way you let me fall apart alone,” your lips curled into something cold, something sharp, “But I should’ve known better. You were always good at running, weren’t you?"

His fists tightened, “You think I wanted to leave you?!" His voice came out raw, splintered.

“you think it was easy for me?” he stated.

"I don’t give a damn if it was easy," you snapped, "You still did it."

Jungwon let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head, "And you haven’t forgiven me since."

"Why should I?" you shot back, eyes burning with something dangerously close to fury, "You don’t deserve my forgiveness, Jungwon."

His breath caught.

And then, softer—deadlier— "You never did."

He didn’t know why it hurt so much. Maybe because deep down, he had been clinging to the idea that if he fought hard enough, you would let him back in. That if he proved himself, if he stayed this time, you would finally let yourself forgive him.

But maybe that had never been an option.

Maybe, he had been chasing your ghost this entire time.

Maybe, he had been a fool to think he still had a chance.

Jungwon exhaled slowly, his expression hardening,

"Then maybe I should stop trying."

Something flickered in your gaze, but before he could figure out what it was, he turned away, walking toward the door.

He didn’t stop.

He didn’t look back.

Your hands instinctively reached out for him, yet no words could come out of your mouth. Your hand fell back to your side at the sound of the front door slam. A unspoken sign of goodbye. And before you knew it, tears spilled from your eyes. It was a piercing feeling, a suffocating one. And before you knew it, you were sobbing on the living room floor. Where he had left you.

And for the first time since he came back into your life, You finally let yourself wonder—

Maybe you really had lost him for good.

He didn’t show up at your house anymore. The house was void, uncomfortably silent, and suffocating. The bedroom in which you would once walk in to find him already sprawled onto your bed, was empty. Intact, just as you left it. The bedroom was tidy, just as you had done it in the morning—a painful reminder that he was no longer here.

Only the smell of him lingered in the air. Along with his soothing voice, the one that hummed you to sleep when you were tormented at night.

But things didn’t stop there.

After many days had passed and the day of the secret meeting approached, you wondered if Jungwon would come find you at all. To accompany you, like he always would. You quickly resigned the idea, forcing yourself to grasp that he’s gone. Permanently.

But as you made your way out of your bedroom, you heard the sound of the front door open.

And then, somehow, it started all over again.

"…You’re not even thinking straight!" Jungwon’s voice echoed through the living room, raw with frustration.

“You’re so desperate to chase ghosts, you don’t even care if it gets you killed!" He continued.

You slammed the case file onto the table, papers scattering across the surface, “Don’t act like you give a shit, Jungwon. You didn’t care when you walked away the first time, so don’t pretend now."

His jaw clenched, his fists tightening at his sides, "You think I didn’t care? You think leaving didn’t fucking kill me?"

"You still did it.”

The words cut deep, sharper than any knife, and you saw the way they hit him—the way they hurt. But you didn’t stop. You couldn’t stop. The anger was still fresh, the resentment of his betrayal.

"You had a choice, Jungwon," you continued, voice laced with anger and something dangerously close to heartbreak, "And you chose to walk away. So don’t stand here and act like you have a right to tell me what to do now."

He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply, “y/n, I didn’t—" He stopped, shaking his head, as if even he didn’t know how to explain himself.

“You wanted me to stay, but for what? To watch you destroy yourself over something you couldn’t fix?"

"It wasn’t your decision to make,” you retaliated.

Jungwon let out a bitter laugh, stepping closer—too close, “And this?"

His voice dropped lower, "Dragging me back into your war? This was my decision to make?"

You felt the heat between them, thick and suffocating.

"You owe me," you said, your voice dangerously sharp, laced with pain and rage.

Jungwon’s eyes darkened, “I owe you?"

You lifted your chin, refusing to back down, "You let me believe I was alone. You gave me over, locked me up in your basement! You lied to me! You left me with nothing but questions, and now that I have the answers, you want me to stop? You want me to just let it go?"

He was so close now, close enough that you could see the way his chest rose and fell with uneven breaths, “I want you to stop throwing yourself into the fire like you have nothing left to lose."

"I don’t."

Silence.

Something shifted in his expression—something dangerous, something almost desperate.

"That’s bullshit,” he narrowed his eyes at you, “and you know it.”

You swallowed hard, refusing to let the weight of his words settle, “You don’t know me anymore, Jungwon."

His gaze dropped to your lips for just a second, before flicking back up to your eyes, "Yeah?"

“Then why do you still look at me like you wish I never left?"

your breath hitched.

Because he was right.

And that was the worst part of all.

You stared at him in silence, in disbelief. The tears rushing into your eyes like a hit of a merciless wave. You hold back a sob from your mouth with your trembling hands, forcing yourself to look away.

Standing only a few steps away, Jungwon instinctively reaches out for you.

His fingertips burn on your skin. You move, facing him once more with rage.

“Go right now!” you shouted, pushing him away, “go now!”

“Go!” You broke out into another painful sob, your harsh words now sounding like a desperate plea, a broken, pained one.

You didn’t know what else to do, grief crashing down on you at once.

You didn’t want to hurt him; You were terrified of what would happen if he was to stay around. In your own way, you wanted to protect him from you. Despite it all.

He could see it.

He shook his head, reaching out for you once again.

You rejected him. You pushed his hands away.

He tried again, taking a grip onto your arms, “Y/n, listen to me, baby…”

“No!” you moved frantically, trying to get out of his grip, “No! Let go of me!”

You hit him repeatedly in his chest, hot tears streaming down your distressed face.

He took every hit, gazing at you with such tenderness.

It broke you even more.

Your blows decreased. They became weaker and your voice trembled, “please…go home, Jungwon.”

Finally still, Jungwon pulled you into a warm and tight embrace.

You didn’t fight it this time. Maybe because you didn’t have the strength, or maybe simply because you wanted this. You needed it.

“I’m already where i’m supposed to be, y/n.”

You sobbed gently against his chest, melting into his arms. You gripped desperately onto him, every sensorial part of you obsessed with him. He caressed your head soothingly.

“I didn’t mean what i said the last time. I’m so sorry, I know it’s my fault. I don’t deserve you, nor your trust or your love. I know that,” he explained, “but i choose to continue trying. Even if you push me away. Hit me, curse at me, fuck—tell me you hate me. Anything. Just as long as it gives me your forgiveness.”

He brought his hands to cup your face, bringing your softened face towards his.

“And you know why?” he looked into your eyes, “because I love you, y/n.”

Your eyes flickered. He slowly lowers himself before you, his hands holding yours, getting on his knees.

“I truly don’t think I can be without you, y/n. I love you so much it hurts. So please…please, baby…if you can find it in you to love me one more time, i’ll spend the rest of my life in proving it to you. Just one,” he begged, “please love me one more time.”

And even though he tried to stabilize himself, you could hear the small tremble in his voice and the glistening in his eyes.

He so desperately wanted it to be you.

You stood there, lost at words. Many thoughts rushing through your mind. You weren’t sure what to do. You didn’t want to think.

“Okay…” you breathed out.

His face softened immediately, his shoulders relaxing. He kissed your hand, standing up once again. He cups your cheek, bringing you into a soft kiss. He left soft pepper kisses around your face, whispering ‘I love you’s in between.

“You don’t have to say it now,” he said, “this is enough for me.”

And then, he reconnected your lips tenderly. Your eyes flickered close, gripping onto his arms. He cocked your head back slightly, deepening the kiss. Close wasn’t close enough for him.

“Should we…go to my room?” you said, quietly.

He flashed you a dimpled smile, “Is that what you want? Are you sure? I don’t want to rush you—”

you cut him off with a kiss. He took the message, scooping you up in his arms. He led the way into the bedroom, sitting onto it with you on top of his lap.

And before you knew it, you were holding onto him, taking every single inch of him. He sat against the headboard of your bed, while you bounced on his cock. He wrapped his arms around your waist, his face snuggled into the crook of your neck. He left bite marks, kisses, and love bites all over your skin. Worshiping every part of you, honored to breathe the same air you breathe, let alone to have the privilege to touch you. He whispered a few affectionate words into your ear, gripping onto your ass to slam it back down on his cock. He guided your hips, rocking you. A few whines and groans left his mouth, thrusting further into your tight cunt.

you moaned, making a mess of his hair as you fisted it.

There weren’t many words exchanged, letting your body and small whispers exchange the message. You could feel it in every touch, every kiss, every gaze—the love he had for you.

Your body’s felt interlinked, your heart fulfilled with every inhale you took of his bare skin.

You took time to take in his touch, the way his warm, big, arms wrapped around you perfectly. In a protective stance, assertive, yet so tender.

It was a form of ecstasy only he could bring you.

Body and soul.

And it didn’t stop there. Jungwon took you the entire day, round after round without much of a break. He was a madman, deeply entranced and bewitched by his love for you. He wanted you, every part of you, he wanted to satisfy you. And he did his part, too well. He knew that.

He pleasured you all day, overstimulating you in the best way, till tears formed into your eyes and your eyes rolled back. Orgasm after orgasm.

By the time you both were done, you both laid entangled in each others arms. His chin rested on top of your head, while you laid against his chest. The sound of his breathing, soothing you. You woke up in the middle of the night, realizing your position. You stared at him, watching the way his chest rose and went down. His handsome face, his pretty features, every curve on his face.

You didn’t want to admit it, but you were far too in love with him than you let yourself think.

You smiled, planting a very gently and soft kiss onto his lips. He softly stirred, instinctively pulling you closer. You let him, closing your eyes to fall asleep once again.

And finally, the day had came in a blink of an eye.

The night air was thick with tension, the city lights fading behind you as you and Jungwon sped toward the warehouse on the outskirts of town. The roads were mostly empty, except for a few passing cars, but every shadow felt like a threat.

His grip on the steering wheel was tight, knuckles white as he saw the way you fought the unease creeping up your spine. You had spent years working inside the system, believing in the justice you served. But now, that same system had betrayed you. Someone on the inside had been feeding information to the mastermind all along. And if Han Joon was the rat, then confronting him wasn’t just about exposing the truth—it was about survival.

"If this goes sideways," he finally spoke, his voice quiet but firm, "you get out. You understand?"

Your eyebrows furrowed, you shot him a glare, “What are you talking about? Not happening."

"Y/n—"

"Don’t start," you cut him off, "We’re in this together. I’m not leaving without you. You don’t get to make that call."

Jungwon exhaled sharply, muttering something under his breath, but he didn’t argue further. He knew you too well. Knew that you weren’t the type to run.

As the warehouse came into view, he slowed the car, pulling into the shadows of an abandoned loading dock across the street. The building itself was old, its metal siding rusted and covered in graffiti. A single dim light flickered above the entrance, casting eerie shadows against the walls.

You scanned the perimeter. No guards. No backup. That was suspicious in itself.

"Too quiet," Jungwon murmured, voicing your exact thoughts.

"Han wouldn’t come here alone," you said, reaching for your gun, “He’s either already inside, or we’re walking into a setup."

Jungwon reached into his jacket, checking his own weapon, “Then let’s make sure we’re not the ones getting trapped."

He leaned over to the passengers seat to place a soft kiss onto your lips before getting out the car. You froze, blankly, before a small smile crept onto your face.

You moved together, keeping low as you approached the side entrance. The door was slightly ajar, a dark gap in the metal frame.

You glanced at Jungwon. He nodded once.

With careful steps, you pushed the door open just enough to slip inside. The warehouse was dark, save for a few overhead lights illuminating the main floor. Rows of crates and shipping containers lined the space, providing plenty of places to hide. The air smelled of dust and old metal, the silence heavy, almost suffocating.

Then, the sound of footsteps.

You pressed yourself against a metal beam, your breath steady as you peeked around the corner. Han Joon stood near the center of the warehouse, his back turned to you. He was talking to someone on his phone, his voice low but urgent.

"No, listen—this isn’t what we agreed on."

A pause.

"I told you I’d handle it. But if we move too soon, they’ll figure it out."

Another pause.

"Yes. I know. I’ll take care of it."

He hung up, shoving his phone into his pocket. His posture was tense, his fingers twitching like a man in over his head.

You exchanged a glance with Jungwon. This was it.

Gun raised, you stepped out from the shadows. "Put your hands where I can see them, Han."

He stiffened at the sound of your voice but didn’t turn immediately. Instead, he let out a slow, almost resigned sigh, “You’re persistent. I’ll give you that."

Jungwon moved beside you, his own gun trained on Han, “Who were you talking to?"

Han finally turned, his face unreadable, “Does it matter? You’re already too late."

A chill ran down your spine.

"Too late for what?" you demanded.

Han’s lips curled into a humorless smirk, “You still don’t get it, do you? This isn’t just about your partner. It never was. You think you’re solving one case, but you’re playing in a much bigger game. And the people pulling the strings?" He let out a low chuckle.

"They don’t lose,” Before you could react, Han moved.

His hand shot toward his waist, reaching for a weapon. Instinct took over—you fired.

The gunshot echoed through the warehouse as Han staggered backward, clutching his shoulder. He gritted his teeth in pain, but even then, there was something almost smug in his expression.

"You think this ends with me?" he panted, blood seeping through his fingers. "You’re chasing ghosts, y/n. And you have no idea who you’re really up against."

A sick feeling twisted in your stomach.

Jungwon stepped forward, grabbing Han by the collar and slamming him against the nearest crate, "Start talking. Now."

Han let out a low, pained laugh, “I’d love to, really. But I don’t think my boss would like that very much."

Then, the sound of a phone vibrating.

Han’s eyes flickered downward, and you followed his gaze—to his jacket pocket.

Jungwon yanked the phone out, glancing at the screen. An unknown number.

Your heart pounded. Whoever was calling, they were watching.

Jungwon answered without hesitation, “Who is this?"

Silence.

Then, a voice distorted by a voice modulator.

"You should have stayed out of this, detective."

The line went dead.

And then, the warehouse lights cut out.

Everything plunged into darkness.

Then—footsteps. Fast. Closing in.

"It’s a setup!" Jungwon shouted.

Gunfire erupted, the sharp cracks splitting through the silence. You barely had time to duck behind the crates before bullets ricocheted off the metal walls. Han slumped to the floor, his wound making him an easy target.

Shadows moved in the darkness. More than one. More than two.

You and Jungwon were outnumbered.

And the real mastermind was still out there, watching. Waiting. Smiling in the dark.

"They knew we were coming," you whispered, pressing your back against the crate.

Jungwon exhaled sharply, “Of course they did. Han was stalling—he led us right into this trap."

Han’s barely conscious body laid on the floor. He wasn’t your priority anymore. The real threat was closing in.

Another round of bullets tore through the air, forcing you and Jungwon to shift positions. You caught a brief silhouette moving in the distance—at least four shooters, maybe more. Well-trained. Tactical.

"We need to move," Jungwon muttered, “Sitting here makes us easy targets."

You nodded. There was no choice. You counted down in your head—three, two, one—then broke into a sprint, dodging between crates as more bullets chased your shadow. Jungwon was right behind you, firing precise shots that forced the gunmen into momentary cover.

As you weaved through the maze of containers, you spotted something—a narrow metal staircase leading up to a catwalk. Higher ground. An advantage.

"Up there!" you called out, and Jungwon followed your gaze.

You darted toward the staircase, your heart pounding, adrenaline surging through your veins. Gunfire rang out again, a bullet grazing your arm, but you bit down the pain and kept moving. Jungwon returned fire, covering you as you scrambled up the stairs.

From the catwalk, you finally got a better view of your attackers. Four men, all dressed in black, all moving in coordinated patterns. But then your stomach twisted.

One of them wasn’t just a man.

It was an officer.

Your blood ran cold.

"Jungwon," you said through gritted teeth, your voice barely above a whisper, “They’re not just hired guns. They’re cops."

Jungwon’s expression darkened, “That explains why we’ve been one step behind this whole time."

Your worst fears had been confirmed. The mastermind wasn’t just using a single rat inside the department—he had an entire network. People who had sworn the same oath you had. People willing to kill to protect their secret.

You took a slow breath, leveling your gun, “If the department’s compromised, we can’t trust anyone."

Jungwon nodded, his gaze sharp, “Then we take them out ourselves."

He moved first, a single shot taking out the closest shooter below. The man dropped before he could react. That left three.

You spotted the officer—the traitor—and aimed. But before you could fire, he shouted something into his radio.

"They’re here! Move now!"

Your gut twisted.

Move now?

Something was wrong.

Then, in the distance, you heard it—sirens.

Jungwon cursed, “They’re bringing reinforcements."

Your mind raced. If backup arrived, they wouldn’t be there to help you. They’d be here to clean up the mess—to silence you permanently.

"We have to get to Han," you said.

Jungwon glanced at you like you were insane, “Han? He’s dead weight. We need to get out of—”

"No," you cut in, "he knows something. And if we let them take him, we lose our last chance to expose them."

Jungwon hesitated—but then nodded. He trusted you.

With no time to waste, the two of you leaped down from the catwalk, landing hard on the concrete floor below. The remaining gunmen fired, but you ducked and rolled behind a metal crate. Jungwon grabbed Han, who was barely conscious, dragging him up.

The warehouse doors burst open, more figures flooding in. Too many.

You looked at Jungwon, He looked at you.

No words were needed.

This was it. It was all or nothing.

You took a breath, steadied your gun, and charged straight into the fire.

The warehouse was collapsing into chaos. Sirens wailed in the distance, gunfire echoed through the massive steel structure, and the acrid scent of smoke and blood filled the air. You and Jungwon moved as one, dodging bullets, returning fire, pushing forward through the swarm of corrupt officers determined to silence you.

Han Joon was slumped between you, barely able to stand as Jungwon dragged him along. He was your key—your last chance to expose the mastermind behind everything. But getting out alive was another story.

The loading dock was ahead, a massive set of double doors that led outside. Your car was parked just beyond them, a possible escape—if you could make it there.

"We need cover!" Jungwon shouted as more bullets rained down from the catwalk above.

You spotted a forklift and an overturned stack of crates, “There!"

Together, you moved swiftly, taking down one of the gunmen in your path. Blood splattered across the concrete as he crumpled. You had no time to hesitate. Every shot you fired, every step you took, was life or death.

Then, a voice cut through the chaos.

"Drop your weapons."

Everything stopped.

From the shadows, a man emerged. Dressed in a sleek black suit, calm despite the bloodbath surrounding him. His dark eyes met yours, and the moment they did, your breath caught.

Commissioner Park.

Your superior. Your mentor. The man who trained and watched you and Hyunjin grow into the detectives you once were.

The mastermind.

Your grip on your gun tightened, rage curling in your stomach, “It was you."

Park smiled, "It had to be me."

Jungwon stepped forward, his gun raised, “You killed Hana’s partner. You framed Kang. You let innocent people die just to keep your operation alive."

Park tilted his head, as if amused, “And yet, here we are. With you making the same mistake he did—getting too close to the truth."

At his signal, more officers surrounded you, guns drawn. You and Jungwon were outnumbered, outgunned. Even if you fought, it would be a massacre.

Han Joon coughed weakly, lifting his head, “You… bastard…" he rasped, his voice barely audible.

Park barely acknowledged him. Instead, he sighed. "I told you before, y/n. There are forces bigger than you at play. This city? It belongs to us. And you…?" His expression darkened, “You should’ve learned to stay in line."

Your mind raced. If you were arrested, you'd never see a courtroom. They’d kill you before you even had the chance to testify.

Jungwon must have realized the same thing. His grip on his gun shifted slightly, his muscles tensing. Ready to fight. He instinctively stepped in front of you, protectively.

And that’s when you saw it—Han Joon’s fingers twitching, slowly reaching into his jacket.

A grenade.

Your eyes widened, “Han, don’t—"

But it was too late.

With the last of his strength, Han pulled the pin.

"Run!"

The explosion was deafening. The shockwave sent you flying backward, crashing against a stack of metal pipes. The entire warehouse trembled as flames erupted from the blast site, smoke billowing into the air.

Dazed, ears ringing, you forced yourself to move. Jungwon was already pulling you to your feet, his face streaked with soot and blood. He cupped your face, worriedly. Although it was muffled, you could hear him ask, “are you okay?”

you nodded, signaling to move quick.

Park was still alive, thrown back by the explosion but struggling to stand. His men were scattered, some dead, others too disoriented to react.

This was your chance.

You staggered forward, gun in hand, leveling it at Park’s chest. His eyes locked onto yours, and for the first time, you saw something in them—fear.

"This is for my partner."

You pulled the trigger.

The shot rang out. Park staggered, a red bloom spreading across his suit. His body crumpled to the floor, lifeless.

It was over.

Jungwon grabbed your hand, tugging you toward the exit. "Come on, before the whole damn building collapses!"

With smoke filling your lungs and fire raging behind you, the two of you ran.

Justice had been served, But at what cost?

The morning air was crisp, a stark contrast to the chaos of that night. It had been a few days since then. You stood on the rooftop of the precinct, watching as the city slowly came to life beneath you.

Park’s corruption had been exposed. Every officer on his payroll was being investigated, and arrests were happening by the hour. The department was in shambles, but for the first time in a long time, it felt like real change was coming.

But the victory felt… hollow. Though it brought you peace, it wouldn’t bring back Hyunjin.

You watched Jungwon get out the car from your view, making his way to your apartment. He looked up, catching you looking at him. He smiled, waving at you enthusiastically. You smiled back, signaling him to quickly come up. He had a cake box in his hand, your favorite cake to celebrate for the victory.

Then, your eyes flickered over to the loud motorcycle speeding down the road.

Your smile faded. Your heart dropped to your stomach.

As if time was moving slowly, the motorcyclist took out a gun from their pocket, pointing it at Jungwon.

You looked over at Jungwon, “Jungwon, watch out!”

Jungwon followed your gaze, confused, but it was too late.

Then, you heard the gun fire. You screamed, instinctively reaching out for him as if you could safe him.

Your eyes widen, your body trembling and going cold.

Jungwon stumbled to the ground, the motorcyclist rushing off but crashing into a large truck. The force impact causing him to fall off his bike, taking hard blows. He fell unconscious.

You ran out of your apartment, tears falling out of your eyes. You took the emergency stairs, impatient to get down there. You were bare foot, still in your home clothes—nothing could prepare you for this.

By the time you made it out, people gathered around, watching. You dropped beside Jungwon, reaching out to him. You hands trembled terribly, hovered over him. Unsure of what to do, still in shock. You sobbed, holding onto his face.

“Oh my God,” you choked out, “please. Please hold on a little longer—jesus, someone call the police please!”

you sobbed frantically, looking around to the others for help. You placed your hands over his bloody wound on his lower stomach, your hands coated in his blood. As if you could stop it from flowing, but it was no use. He looked at you, trying to maintain a reassured expression. He cupped your cheek with one hand.

“Y/n—”

“No,” you cut him off, “don’t talk. Don’t use your energy. Everything is going to be okay, just wait till later—”

“Y/n, listen to me,” he continued, “I need you to promise me something.”

You shook your head, broken sobs escaping your lips, “No…no! for what? You’re going to be okay, I promise…”

He wiped away your tears with his thumb, his complexion looking worser by the second.

“Why aren’t they here yet,” You shouted, frustrated and desperate.

“Promise me,” his soft gaze lingered on you, “that you’ll live in peace now. That you won’t stress yourself out for things out of your control.”

You watched him, words becoming futile devices. You nodded, your breath rigid from the sobs. Your hands were dripping in his blood, his face flinched in pain.

“Please, hold on a little longer,” you sobbed quietly, caressing his head and cheek in desperation.

As if to memorize his face. His touch. His warmth. Of what was left of him, at least.

He tried to laugh but choked on it, grimacing. "Guess I’m not as invincible as I thought."

You pressed down on the wound, your heart hammering, “Stay with me. You hear me? You’re not going anywhere. You can’t leave me. You owe me, don’t forget that!”

His eyelids fluttered, his breathing ragged, “You’re bossy, you know that?"

"Shut up,” your voice trembled.

The sirens were distant, help on the way, but time felt slow. Too slow. You couldn’t lose him. Not now. Not after everything.

His fingers found yours, weak but firm, “I worry I may not have told you this as much as I wished to, I love you, y/n."

"Don’t say that,” Your voice broke.

“Promise me one more thing,” he brought his bloody hand to your cheek.

“w-what?”

“In some universe, if by some miracle we cross paths, fall in love with me,” his loving gaze softened, “but If one day you find yourself in the position to love someone again after i’m gone, allow yourself.”

Jungwon smiled faintly, but his grip was slipping.

Then, in the distance, the sirens grew louder. Help was coming.

You didn’t know if it would be enough. A few sobs escaped your lips at his words.

“No—”

“Yes. Promise me,” he replied.

“No!” you shouted, “If this is about my happiness, take it, I don’t want it without you!”

His eye lids grew heavy, he coughed a few times.

“Please, promise me…” a tear slipped from the corner of his eyes.

You felt sick to your stomach. You swallowed down, hard. You nodded.

“I promise,” you cried, “but that won’t need to happen. Because you’ll be okay, just hold on a bit more, help is on the way.”

Your attention was caught by the ambulances turning the corner. You felt hope. But as you turned to face Jungwon, you felt his hand slip down your face. His blood smudging against your cheek.

Your blood went cold.

His eyes were flickering close, his chest not rising fully.

You jerked forward, tapping his face.

“Jungwon, no, no, listen to me,” you said, “do you hear me?”

It hit you again, a wave of tears. Worse than what it was before. You held him in your arms.

“I love you,” you whispered, “did you hear me? I’m ready. I love you, Jungwon. So much.”

You sobbed loudly, your piercing screams for help breaking through the cold air. You planted soft kisses onto his lips.

“I love you. Did you hear? I said I love you!” you laid your forehead against his, “Please. Wake up. I forgive you, okay? You can’t leave me. You said you’d never leave…”

The ambulance responders rushed out the vehicle, checking him. The time felt like it went slow, everything sounded muffled, watching them take him from your arms. You watched as his hands separated from yours, dropping to his side. A harsh reminder that this was real, along with other things.

That he never got to hear you tell him you loved him.

And that he’ll never know you forgave him.

You sat there, watching as they took him from you. His blood all over you, becoming cold. You stared off into the air, the shock crashing down on you. As memories of him flashed through your mind, the many things you still had to say, the things there was still left to do.

You were left with a bitter taste in your mouth, and the pain of losing him forever.

[jarofstyles]

Little picture blurb for you guys :) roommate har x roommate y/n

Warnings- none really!

Check out our Patreon for early access and 250+ exclusive writings

“Please, for the love of god, do not butcher my hair.”

“I am quite literally a hair stylist.” Y/N huffed, blowing a strand of her own hair out of her fair. It was messy from sleep even still, but Harry had insisted on her shaping his hair up before he went to work.

“Well technically-“ he started, but froze when he felt her tap the scissors against the back of his neck.

“Yeah, I’m still in school. But men’s cuts are a piece of cake for me. So stop fuckin’ whining when you woke me up from my precious sleep to make sure you look presentable for this job interview.” Scowling at the back of his head didn’t last long as he turned his head towards her with his best attempt of a charming smile.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it. I’m just nervous. I haven’t gotten it cut for a while and it’s… weird to trust you with my prized possession. You could very easily chop it up because I ate the rest of your pizza.” The sheepish look on his face made her narrow his eyes at him, using her thumb and forefinger to thump him. “Oi! The fuckin’ violence of it all. See? I had a right to be worried. My hairdresser is abusin’ me!” He squawked.

“I’ll do worse than that if you don’t shut the hell up.” Grabbing his chin, she manually pushed his head to face forward into the bathroom mirror as she dragged the comb through his slightly wet hair. “I could do that, and I’m glad you know the power I hold. You’d think that would mean you actually behave yourself.” She rolled her eyes, making sure his hair was laid the way she needed it to be.

“When have I ever behaved?” His grumble made her bite back a smile, because the answer was quite simple.

“Never.” She answered for him, moving around him to the counter to grab her sheers. “And stop staring at my ass. Creep.”

“Well you- you didn’t put shorts on!” He stumbled over his words, face flushing. “I didn’t mean to look! I’m not a creep, you’re the creep for showing me your bits.”

Y/N turned to him, brow shooting up. “If I gave you permission right now, you would take a nice handful of said ‘bits’, so I don’t really feel too bad about letting you see the underside of it. In fact, I should be charging you for it. But I’m a phenomenal, amazing and generous roommate, so I’ll let that be a simple bonus for you.” Pinching his warm cheek, she knew he couldn’t refute that. “So sit still and imagine my ass or something so I can cut your hair.”

It was the wrong thing to say by the smirk raising on his lips. “Well if m’imagining your ass my hand will be quite busy, so-“

“Remember who has the scissors.”

[coquitokisses]

Oh, baby! | Dean Winchester

Pairings: Dean Winchester x female!reader

Summary: reader had a one night stand with Dean and they find out she’s pregnant

Word count: 1.4k

A/n: I gotta be honest, this is from a fanfic lmao, which is supposed to be a crossover of Teen Wolf and Supernatural, but I haven’t published it yet and I’ve been wanting to write something about Dean for a whileee so I decided to just edit this lil thing I had and post it here cuz why not?

“Hey, Cas, you’re back.” You smile sweetly at him once you saw him as you made your way to the library to help Sam with research

“Hi, y/n.” He replied with a small smile that soon turned into a confused frown

You noticed. “Everything okay?”

“How do you feel?” He asks

“I’m fine.” You replied, not understanding his sudden worry

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Cas, why? What’s wrong?” You questioned feeling a little alarmed by the way he was asking

“It’s just that I feel another presence.” He said

“Another presence?” Sam took his eyes off the laptop to look at Castiel

“What do you mean another presence?” Dean’s voice was soon heard throughout the library

“Is it bad?” You ask

“No,” Castiel shook his head. “It’s inside you.”

“Inside me?!” You were so confused right now “But what is it? Is it bad?”

“Is she okay?” Sam asked somewhat worried after hearing Castiel’s words

“She’s fine,” he replied and then looked at you “Can I?” he raised his hand

You nodded giving him permission to do whatever he had to do. Castiel put a hand on your forehead and then began to lower it down your body, but without actually touching it, until it reached your belly.

“Can I?” he looked at you, you just nodded

He placed his hand on your belly and that’s when he realized what was the presence he was feeling.

“It’s a baby,” he said, removing his hand

You almost choked. “I’m sorry, WHAT?!”

“A.. baby?” Sam was dumbfounded

“Wait, wait, are you sure?” Dean looked at Castiel

“Very sure,” the angel nodded

“It can’t be...” you put one of you hands on you chest. “Oh my God..”

“Are you really sure?” Dean asked again

“Yes, Dean, I am one hundred percent sure that I feel a baby’s presence.” Castiel snapped back

“This isn’t happening.” Dean ran his hands over his face “This is.. this is simply not happening.”

“Please don’t tell me you guys…” Sam looked at you both

“Sam, just shut up for a minute, okay?” Dean replied

“I- I need to get some air.” You muttered as you walked backwards like three steps and then turned around heading to the stairs

“Y/n wait!” Sam called out but you ignored him

You got out of the bunker and you took a deep breath trying to calm yourself down and not have a panic attack.

“This can’t be real..” you murmured to yourself

You raised your hands to your belly and you’re just standing there in shock.

Of course you wanted a family, but you knew that it was probably not going to happen due to the fact that you’re a hunter and you’ve been hunting basically your whole life. You knew how your life was gonna end. And you made your peace with that. Kinda.

Worst thing about all of this is the fact that Dean is the one who got you pregnant. You two used to hate each other, but throughout the years, you’ve learned to tolerate each other and well, you’ve basically been working with them since they had to deal with the angels pretty much.

He’s always had a crush on you and you knew it, but it wasn’t really that serious. He usually just flirted with you and most of the time you just ignored him.

Until a few weeks ago, while you guys were finishing up a case that Sam decided to let you two handle so you could work on your communication and your anger issues, because the week before that, you have to admit that you were both butting heads every five minutes, and it was driving Sam insane. So he sent you both to deal with a vampire case in Wyoming and with a little assignment to work on your issues and stop behaving like kids. His words.

And you did worked your issues out. You just didn’t think it was gonna be by having sex, but hey, you weren’t complaining at all. He was perfect. And it was the best night you’ve ever had in a while.

And here are the results of that hook up.

It’s clear to say that neither of you are prepared, mentally nor physically prepared to have a kid.

And besides, how were you gonna raise a kid together if you can’t even get along for more than two days?

You got on your car and decided to go for a ride, just to clear your head. And while you were at it, you bought like two boxes of pregnancy tests just to be one thousand percent sure and because you would believe it more once you see it yourself.

You got something to eat after that and decided to use the bathroom at a gas station so you could take the pregnancy tests.

While you waited on the results, you were walking around in the small bathroom, thinking what the hell you were gonna do.

After a few minutes of talking to yourself internally, you decided to take a look at the four pregnancy tests.

“Oh god..” you muttered under your breath seeing the plus sign on the tests

(…)

After a while of just driving around, you finally decided to get back to the bunker. Once you open the door, Dean’s head turned to look at you immediately.

“Where were you?” He asked, leaving the book he was reading on the table

“I was getting rid of the little creature,” you replied

“Y/n.” Dean gave your a stern look

“I’m kidding.” You rolled your eyes. “I went for a ride and to get something to eat, anything else you want to know?”

You walked to where he was and put your hand inside the pocket of your jacket.

“In case you thought Castiel was lying...” you took the pregnancy tests out of your jacket pocket and placed them on the table. “It’s quite real.”

Dean looked at the tests in front of him realizing that this was really happening. He did believe Cas, but seeing the positive pregnancy tests, definitely made his mind finally fall into the acceptance that this was real. Very real.

Dean sighed. “Look, I know you’re not completely happy with this situation, believe me, I’m not either, but..-

“But we already did it and now we have to take responsibility, I know,” you said taking off your jacket “What I’m still trying to figure out is how you and I are going to raise a baby”

“I don’t know either.” He sighed

“This wasn’t supposed to happen” you pulled out a chair so you could sit and then you brought your hands to you face

“I know...” Dean said in a soft voice and leaned a little so he could look at you. “Hey,” he gently took you by the wrists, removing your hands from your face. “You’re not going to be alone, I’m not going for a pack of cigarettes and never come back.”

That made you laugh a little. “I know you won’t.”

“I’m just.. scared.” He admitted “Scared to raise a kid, scared that I might turn out like my dad and I don’t want that..”

“You’re not going to be like your father, Dean.” You said softly “And I’m scared too, like, I’m gonna be carrying a baby inside of me for the next nine months, I’m terrified that I won’t be a good mom.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re going to be an amazing mom.”

You smiled a little. “That’s kinda comforting.”

“I think we can make it work if we make the effort.”

“We hate each other.” You roll your eyes

He scoffs. “Speak for yourself, I don’t hate you, sweetheart, like, at all.”

You chuckle. “Don’t lie to yourself, you only wanted to get in my pants.” You joked

“Well yeah, but I don’t hate you.” He shrugged

“I don’t hate you either, you’re just.. very annoying.” You said

“You are too.”

You roll your eyes. “Right.”

“In all seriousness,” he started saying “I think we should give it a try.” He looked into your eyes “And you know, we would also be getting out of this life and finally getting a normal one.”

“That does sound nice.” You nodded

“It’s up to you, babe.” He said

You could see in his eyes that he was dead serious about this. He wanted this. He wanted to give it a try with you.

And after a few seconds of thinking, you finally responded.

“Let’s do it then.” You said and he smiled “But we’re not getting married.”

“I’m fine with that.” He said with a shrug which made you smile

main masterlist

A/n: I think I can make this into a small series, should I? 👀

Likes, comments and reblogs will be appreciated! <3

divider creds @hyuneskkami

[deswhomst]

Pinky Promise | @black-sisters-microfic | Tedromeda-centric | Word Count : 695

Hogwarts, September 1964.

“You’re a mudblood, then?” Andromeda asked suspiciously. “I’ve never heard the name Tonks before.”

Ted Tonks, who had been unnecessarily cheerful up till this moment, dropped his smile immediately. “That’s not a nice thing to say.”

“Why?” Her brows pulled together in confusion. “It’s just a question. I won’t be offended if you ask me my blood status.”

Ted stared at her. “The difference is that you’re insulting me.”

“When did I insult you?” Andromeda threw up her hands in exasperation. “You’re the one who can’t answer a simple question!”

“Are you stupid?”

“Oh, clearly, I am,” she said. “Why else would I be wasting my time talking to you?”

Ted rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry, Your Highness, I’ll let you go so you can continue your bullying.”

“What!?” Andromeda shrieked indignantly. “I have never bullied anyone, nor do I want to!”

“Didn’t you just call me a mudblood?” asked Ted, eyebrow raised.

She groaned in frustration. “I only asked if you were. And you still haven’t answered me.”

“I’m not a mudblood,” Ted said pointedly. “I’m a muggle-born.”

Andromeda blinked. “Is—what is wrong with you?” she asked. “That’s exactly the same thing!”

“No, it’s not!”

“A muggle-born,” she began through gritted teeth, “is someone who has muggle parents. A mudblood is also someone who has muggle parents. I fail to see the difference.”

“When you say mudblood, it sounds like you think you’re better than me,” Ted said. When Andromeda pursed her lips and didn’t make a comment, he scoffed. “You do think you’re better than me, don’t you?”

“Well … yes,” she slowly nodded. “But that’s because I saw you trip and fall over nothing. You were just walking, there were no obstacles, and you still fell.”

“That can happen to anyone!” he pointed out indignantly, face flushing a light pink.

“It has never happened to me.”

Ted glared at her, his hands balled into fists at his sides. “Who the fuck cares—”

“Don’t use the word,” Andromeda hissed, eyes widening.

“What word?” Ted blinked. “Fuck?”

She nodded, distressed.

He huffed out a mirthless laugh. “So you can call me a mudblood but I can’t say fuck?”

Andromeda wanted to burst into flames right then and there because why was this boy being so difficult?

“It’s just a blood status,” she tried patiently. Maybe he doesn’t know since his parents are muggles. “So, you see I’m a pureblood because my parents are, too. If someone has one parent who’s not a pureblood, then that person is a half-blood. If you have both parents who are muggles, you’re a mudblood,” She held up her hand when he began to interrupt her. “It’s also called muggle-born, I know, but mudblood makes more sense. Pureblood, half-blood, mudblood.”

After that, Ted stared at her silently for a very long time. It seemed that he was contemplating his next words carefully, finally settling on, “We prefer to be called muggle-born because people use the other one in a bad way … it’s like how you don’t like hearing fuck because it’s a bad word. Mudblood is a bad word, too.”

Andromeda digested that, nodding slowly. “But then you can’t use that word, either.”

Ted’s face split into a helpless grin. “I promise that if you stop using the m-word, I’ll stop using the f-word.”

“Deal,” she nodded, satisfied with this. “Should we make an Unbreakable Vow?”

“What’s that?” he asked curiously.

“It’s an unbreakable vow,” she raised an eyebrow. “It means you make a vow that you can’t break.”

“I meant,” Ted rolled his eyes again, this time with a smile that seemed fond, “what would happen if I do end up saying fu—the word?”

“You’ll die,” she stated simply.

“Oh, good thing it’s not something dramatic and unnecessary.”

Andromeda laughed.

“We can do a pinky promise instead,” Ted told her. “It’s the muggle version of that vow, except you don’t die if you break it.”

“Then it’s not very binding, is it?”

He shrugged. “It’s about trust. You can break it, yes, but I would be trusting that you won’t … and vice versa, I hope.”

“Hmm,” she passed a small smile. “Alright. Let’s do this muggle promise of yours.”

[matchalovertrait]

An intimate talk under the stars.

Start from the beginning (Gen 2)

Previous | Next

[Once they arrived at the park, Dulce and Antonio changed into a fresh pair of clothes. Running around in skintight costumes all night was NOT comfortable! They wouldn’t recommend it.]

[They also took this time to catch their breath. The crisp air felt rejuvenating while they embraced the comfortable silence, taking in the crazy night they had. What an insane idea. But they did it. Together.]

[After a few minutes, Dulce cleared her throat.]

DULCE: ..Antonio. I want to say I appreciate you for doing this with me. I know it was ridiculous. You’ve already helped me a lot, and I can’t thank you enough for it.

[Antonio shifted with discomfort.]

ANTONIO: Don’t thank me just yet. We haven’t won the case.

DULCE: Many things could’ve gone wrong, though.

ANTONIO: Technically they did... but we got through them, right? And we got the notebook.

DULCE: We did!!

[Dulce took out her notebook and flipped through the pages in awe.]

DULCE: I wish I could see the look on Caruso’s face once he realizes the notebook is gone.

[The “security”, Caruso, and Isabela should be able to put two and two together. Dulce and Antonio knew that. However, Caruso and Isabela had no proof. The Operation Fox team covered their tracks, and Matthew was able to erase any surveillance camera footage once the power came back on.]

[She looked up at Antonio with a soft smile.]

ANTONIO: I’ll guard that notebook with my life when I take it for the ink dating in the morning.

DULCE: I almost didn’t take it when I was in his room because I felt bad... We’re kind of the same.

ANTONIO: What do you mean?

DULCE: Maybe his video about me was some weird karmic stuff for the Alto exposé video I made. Maybe Caruso is just me as a man and I deserve what I got.

ANTONIO: You’re mistaken. You’re a lot smarter than Caruso. In your video, you didn’t give any names and you were very vague. Quite impressive if you ask me. How old were you? About 16? 17?

DULCE: Around there.

ANTONIO: Second of all, you have more love in your heart. It’s that simple.

ANTONIO: Alright. Picture this: Alfonso Alto watches your video. He laughs but is secretly freaking out. What if people start suspecting his shady business? He contacts his legal team to try to stop you.

ANTONIO: They rewatch your video repeatedly in an attempt to find something to sue you for—which, by the way, only adds onto your view count—but, they have nothing. Absolutely nothing. He’s furious to have been outsmarted by a teen girl. Things lead to another and he’s in prison all because of one video.

[Dulce nodded. Antonio would know from experience.]

DULCE: Hm, yeah.

ANTONIO: Think about all the lives you probably saved too. Caruso can’t live up to that. That’s probably why he’s so vengeful.

DULCE: ..Speaking of which, what about you and Isabela? Is she a vengeful ex-girlfriend of yours?

[Antonio waved his hand in dismissal.]

ANTONIO: Absolutely not.

ANTONIO: Actually, she hates me because I turned her down.

DULCE: What??

ANTONIO: We used work closely as interns at the same firm. We had to. Along the way, she somehow developed feelings for me. When she asked me out, I declined. I explained to her that I’m dedicated to my work. I don’t have time or energy for love.

[Dulce’s heart dropped.]

ANTONIO: I thought she took it well. Then, she started screwing me over in subtle ways. She would provide me with incorrect deadlines or “forget” to tell me about important calls.

ANTONIO: I couldn’t say anything. Isabela was untouchable because her uncle was a senior attorney at the firm. When my internship ended and I looked for jobs, many places rejected me because I received a bad reputation.

DULCE: I’m sorry that happened to you. Isabela’s a witch for doing that.

ANTONIO: It all worked out. I’m fortunate that the firm I work at now took a chance on me. I get to do what I love. And that place has allowed me to meet some incredible people.

DULCE: ..Sometimes I think about possible alternate timelines. “What if I didn’t do that?” or “What if I had done this instead?” ..Maybe I would be in a more fortunate situation.. but maybe I wouldn’t have experienced the good things in this timeline.

ANTONIO: Like what?

[The two looked up at the starry night.]

DULCE: Like adopting Cosi! Caruso was the one who insisted we get a dog on that day, actually. Maybe someone else would’ve taken her.

DULCE: Okay, your turn to name something.

ANTONIO: Hm..... One time I broke my leg. If I didn’t have all that spare time to watch movies, maybe I wouldn’t have found out I like Star Wars. Your turn.

DULCE: I got lost in the city once. If I didn’t make a wrong turn, I wouldn’t have run into the person selling the refurbished iMac G3. I love it! Your turn.

[Suddenly, the two of them turned to face each other at the same time. They hadn’t realize the closing distance between them.]

ANTONIO: I..

DULCE: I think we should leave. Isabela and Caruso could be out looking for us right now.

ANTONIO: Yeah, and it’s getting late.

DULCE: Mhm.

ANTONIO: C’mon. Let’s get you home.

[flounder9898]

I consider myself a conservative independent and I’d personally think that yes being gay is a sin but I wouldn’t say it to anyone in person or on the internet because we are all sinners and I am not perfect so I will let people live their lives as long as it doesn’t affect me. And this goes with besides trans because it is a completely different thing to me. I think that you are saying that god made a mistake when he created you in his image and I will let you live your life as long as it doesn’t affect me or any child because what most of you don’t know is that you are doing horrible damage to your body and others that you force to transition. If you look it up what the original purpose of these “puberty blockers” were you’d find that they were meant to chemically castrate pedophiles. What you also haven’t heard of is how bad it affects kids. There was a kid in the 1900’s in the USA that was born male and he had something that messed up his genitalia before he was even able to walk so the doctors recommended making the kid transition to be a female and the kid found out not to long after he was an adult and killed himself because the parents did that to him and gaslit him too and when his brother found out about this whole story he killed himself too. Also if you have heard of Jaz Jennings (yes I know that I probably spelled it wrong) I’ll be nice and say she but her parents decided that since they wanted a girl to transition their son into a girl and they did this with in the first year of her life and had her transition very young and she has been having lots of psychological issues lately like she wants to date and get married but no one wants her. She wants to know what sex is like but no one wants to have sex with her. She wants to have an orgasm but because she doesn’t have the female genitalia to have a female orgasm or male genitalia so she can’t have a male orgasm at all and she is developing major psychological issues lately because of what her parents did. We have seen what happens to people that transition and it isn’t good it messes with their brains destroys their bodies and causes many major medical issues so we need to stop this stuff from happening anymore. Being transgender isn’t a good thing it will most likely kill you. Please if you want to be trans be a transvestite and don’t do very harmful stuff to your body. And many hidden studies have shown that people who believe they are trans at a young age are actually either gender confused and realize that they are not trans or they are actually gay or lesbian so please don’t be trans before your 18 and if you believe you are trans see a therapist that will help you through these feelings and if you turn 18 and decide you still want it go for it but I personally think you shouldn’t do it regardless but you are an adult. And the people who ended up detransitioning depending on how far they went might have irreversible damage and trauma. If you decide to be called trans and don’t take any steps to transition then you are one of the lucky ones. But if you start taking medication or have surgery to remove something and decide to not continue you are screwed because you did something that can never be undone. Even taking a testosterone pill to become a man will mess up your body and cause long lasting harm.

If you're gay, Republicans don't want you. I guess you didn't get the memo. They don't care about LGBQ rights.

Literally every slur I've ever gotten has been from a leftist, but go off I guess

[girl-lostconnection]

I'm so sorry you have to deal with people being so demanding, and I hope that they actually listen to your post and stop, cause it's just really rude in general.

On the other hand, I, for some reason, keep thinking about your story of reader dying and the 141 grieving and how, for me personally, when it comes to one of my loved ones, no matter how much time passes, I just can't stop thinking about them, craving their love, the way that they loved, and how you can see the similarities in others but it isn't quite right, it still doesn't feel the same, and you're just never left satisfied when you want their love again and no one else can do that, because it's not them. You're still loved, yes, but it's not the same.

Idk. I just was thinking about that and was wondering if that's what they might feel. They still have each other and love each other, but I wonder if there are times when they want or feel like they need it to be like reader's way to feel better on some days, where little things that upset them were originally made better by something reader did, but now that they're gone they're just left with that feeling to simmer.

You know one of the things I had to learn while dealing with grief — it doesn’t become smaller. You just get bigger, you get more experiences the older you get and all of that grief is still there. But grief is just what is left of your love for the person who is no longer there.

I think for them it would manifest differently but I can definitely see Johnny trying his best to keep going because he knows he has three more partners and they have to keep going and they have to keep living. Because Reader wouldn’t be happy with them just ending it all, because there is so much more time left, so many things they haven’t done. I think for him it would be one of the things that would eventually result in early retirement. He already lost a quarter of his heart when he lost Reader, he doesn’t want it happening again. And as much as he loves being demolitions expert, he knows there is a different type of life out there. One that can give him and his partners stability and safety.

I think Johnny would be the person that despite it all still sometimes talks about Reader like they are still there. He mentions references to movies and music and books, he draws them in his sketchbooks, he mentions that “this is the dessert they always wanted to try”. With time it turns into a warm kind of nostalgia, the love that he carries with him, his grief manifesting in trying to compensate for everything Reader wouldn’t experience by living through it himself. And by living on. When his time comes he hopes to see Reader again and say “see? I did well, didnae i? It was a good life. A long life, like you wanted. Bet you are proud of me”

Like i mentioned before Kyle took it in one of the worst hits, he’d keep holding onto Reader’s clothes and mementos as long as he can. He googles obsessively brands of clothes, he finds exactly the same articles because even if these get ruined or good forbid someone throws them out — he will know what to order. It won’t be the same, but he could pretend that it is. He already pretends that he’s alright, he already pretends that the hoodies he’s wearing with Reader’s name and rank are just part of his standard uniform.

I feel like Kyle is a person who has never experienced a loss this big before. He never lost someone who was this close, someone who’s still in his head, someone whose voice he keeps hearing when he talks to himself. Kyle likes to imagine that Reader never passes on. That they are still there, maybe noncorporeal, maybe he can’t see them, but at this point he’d settle for anything.

I think Kyle was never one for religion but whenever he passes church he’d get in to light a candle and say a quick not even a prayer but sort of a wish. Like that’s the only way he can chat with you, like something holy could really pass his “I’m okay, love, I’m eating well. Last mission was shite, but you know how it is. You no longer come to me when i dream. Are you upset, baby? I’m sorry, I’ll be more careful next time, i know you don’t like me getting injured. Just please, come back. I can’t sleep well without you.”

Simon would probably have the hardest times adjusting to the absence of Reader, because he takes the longest time to accept their death. He tries so hard to pull away from the moment where he would need to actually process the notion that it finds him itself and hits him with the force of minivan.

There is aching that he can’t relief, there is itch he can scratch — there is a person who he could tell any of his jokes and who’d not just joke in return but laugh at it and this person is gone. They are not coming back, he can’t even find them somewhere to watch out of the shadows, he can’t stalk them.

Losing people like that is always the hardest because with living people you at least can call/text/send a letter with a carrier pigeon. You can come back and open old wounds, you can pick up the fight, you can look them in the eyes and get some closure. Simon is not getting any. He fights every step of the way, he drags his feet. He’s easily agitated, he feels like hitting his head on the wall every time something stabs him from inside reminding that you are gone.

He comes up with a joke and yeah, of course he can tell it to anyone out of 141, but he wants to tell it to Reader. He wants to tell it to them specifically because they’d have a funny response which they’d choke out of themselves by laughing so hard he actually starts laughing. He misses it. He misses them. He misses their smell, the feel of them, the way he could talk to them and they would just get him so well like no one else would. He doesn’t just lose a partner when Reader dies — he loses a friend.

Price is…Price is complicated. He’s one to bottle it all up and throw it so deep down it may never come up other in his subconscious habits. He makes tea for five people and not four, he shops for five, he still buys the snacks Reader liked, he starts planning celebration for their birthday just on the back of his mind until he catches himself doing it and just forces it all down deeper.

Price would be a high functioning alcoholic in his grief, but still an alcoholic. He drinks a little more than he should, he forces down a drink he’d previously wouldn’t because he knows his limits. But it burns and it numbs and for a few hours he can breathe again. Alcohol allows himself to loosen a lid on everything he feels, it puts safe distance between his feeling and him and he actually allows himself to process some of them.

He cries, he ruins his office, he punches through the wall, he routinely throws up. Once he gets so drunk he actually starts having hallucinations, intoxication so severe he almost chokes on his own vomit. Soap finds him just in time to get him help. After this he gets out on suicide watch for 72 hours and the team would start actually guard him in shifts.

Price still drinks but now next to him there is always someone who also remembers his limits and doesn’t let him overstep them. John hates it at times. He hates himself much more though. He hates Reader sometimes too, because that’s not fair that they are gone. Because look what a fucking mess he is, love, bloody disgrace to drink himself under the fucking table.

Price has the fastest adjustment to Reader staying deceased but at the same time he can’t fully process his grief. Part of him is scared that he will drive himself mad if he does, another part just doesn’t want to. It’s stubborn and unhealthy but so what. He’s a captain, he lost soldiers before, he’s gonna deal with it this way.

But i think he’s also the second person who retires straight after Soap because he finds a new almost obsessively-desperate purpose in keeping his boys alive and well. He may be a fucked up man but his boys already lost one of their own, he doesn’t want to drag them through his death as well

[heraldofcrow]

One thing about me is that if you shun or try to isolate a friend of mine (or just anyone who you’ve dubbed a “fault in the system” or harmful despite evidence to the contrary) after you misjudged them for being a bad or malicious or untrustworthy person, I am going to rabidly support them and be extra fucking loud about it and make sure their voices are heard from every corner and it will literally be my driving force to stay online and alive for years.

[doiliedaze]

Constant Craving

Warnings: dry humping, vi is wearing a packer, marking, groping, vi’s nipples are sensitive and pierced, nipple sucking (v! receiving), cumming inside their underwear, messy makeout, vi licks your face, lip biting, spit transfer, vi rambles, reader squirts for the first time, reader gets fingered, thigh riding

Genre: smut

A/n: for anyone who doesn’t know what a packer is, it’s this !! They talk about it beyond a sexual use which I think is really important and I’m gonna input that into my stories because this is the second time I’ve mentioned packers/butch bulge and I don’t want to come off that I only view it sexually because I don’t.

───────┈ · ·

“Fuck” vi groans as she ruts against your clothed cunt. Straddling you and pushing her weight on you. The two of you haven’t seen each other in two days which is two years for y’all.

Your nails scrape her back as you lift her shirt. Her pierced nipples brush up against your top and she moans.

Already her humps were desperate, her voice wavering as she mutters about how much she loves your pussy. Your hands guides her hips as you near your first orgasm of the night.

“Need you babe—fuck” she moans and closes her eyes. “Where do you want me?” You whine knowing she wants you to toy with her tits. She straightens her posture so you have access to her.

A moan flowed out as the hotness of your mouth met the coolness of her piercing. Your plump lips attached themselves to her eager nipples. You tongue swirled and your teeth pulled. Heavenly whimpers left her swollen lips.

“Pleasepleaseplease” she babbles, her nails seeping into your skin. You moan against her breast as you feel your orgasm crash over you. Your hazy eyes look up at her blown out pupil’s. She lifts your face away from her nipple, a string of saliva follows. “Open your mouth.” She whispers as her humps got more aggressive. You could hear your wetness as her bulge presses against you.

You listen to her command and slowly a string of her spit drips down your throat. The view alone made vi cum.

Harshly she grabs your face to steady herself to lean down for a kiss. The kiss escalates as both of your second orgasms build. Her hand rips your shirt open, needing to touch you. Her wet nipples rub against your stiff ones. Vi pinches your nipples and pulls it drawling moans out of your hoarse throat.

She’s gotten so lost in the kiss that she licks your face. Your tongues slides against each other and she uses her free hand to hold your jaw and suck on your tongue. She bops her head up and down on your tongue. Her teeth sink into your tongue not enough to make it bleed but enough to make you grip her hips and moan.

Her body shudders as she moves her head into your neck biting down. Her teeth drag across the same areas till your skin turns a dark purple.

“Love ‘m pretty girl” she moans into your mouth as she moves back up to kiss you. Her hand sliding into your wet panties. “Fuck you feel so good” she pants as she positions herself to grind on your thigh. Eagerly she pushes two fingers in and it doesn’t take long for you to cum.

Wanting to push you, she thrusts her fingers faster and curls them to hit your g-spot. The speed and the movement had your back arching and your hips shaking. You kiss her, sliding your tongue against her, biting her lip and drool slipping down your chin.

Your third orgasm comes quicker than your last. A loud moan that could be compared to a scream ripped through you as you squirt against vi. The two of you stop and look at each other, “that’s new” vi laughs and you join her although your voice was shaky. “Let’s do it again.”

───────┈ · ·

A/n: This got me out my smut funk, I needed to write intimacy!

Taglist: @manfuckthisimout @bambishaven @femme-historian @furrytaesss @milanyas @highnfemme @5seos

Dividers- @dollywons

[ruloaapaul]

“STOP BEING A WHINY B*TCH METHOD.”

oh honey, you want the 100% easy method for manifesting? well, I’m about to rip you a new one and tell you exactly why you’re failing. get ready for a reality check you’re not gonna forget, sweetie. sit tight, because this is gonna be a ride.

1) stop thinking you’re special, you’re not. – do you really think you’re the only person in the universe who’s struggling? newsflash, honey: everyone’s got problems. everyone’s out here trying to manifest. but here you are, acting like the universe is gonna stop and give you a special pass. no, darling. assume it’s already yours or stay bitter and irrelevant forever. the universe doesn’t care about your insecurities or your sob story. get over yourself.

2) stop doubting, you’re not that interesting. – look, I get it, you think the universe owes you something because you’ve been “trying” so hard. guess what? no one cares. if you can’t believe it’s already yours, then you’re wasting your time. if you don’t assume it, then guess what? you’re just another whiny, ungrateful diva who can’t get out of her own way. this isn’t a question of “how” or “if”—it’s a question of whether you’re too pathetic to believe in yourself. make a decision. or stay stuck.

3) just assume it, you delusional fool. – so, let me get this straight: you can sit there, imagining your crush is in love with you, even though they haven’t texted you in weeks, but when it comes to assuming your dream body, you’re all “but that’s impossible!” oh, okay. you’re perfectly fine living in a delusion about a relationship that doesn’t even exist, but you can’t have the body you want because you don’t “believe” it? get the f*ck outta here. It’s all about your assumption. stop being a damn hypocrite. either you’re ready to assume your dream body or you can keep your sad, bitter little excuse of a life. the choice is yours.

4) stop waiting for a sign, you dumb little drama queen. – stop sitting around waiting for the universe to “show you” something, like you’re waiting for an invitation to the VIP section. there’s no invite, honey—you’re already in the damn club. if you can’t assume your success, then don’t expect anything to change. you’re just too busy crying and waiting for a damn miracle. newsflash: the universe doesn’t hand you sh*t. you have to demand it. you want your dream life? assume it’s already here.

5) stop over complicating it, you dumbass. – you’ve made manifesting so complicated that it’s honestly embarrassing. you’re not trying to build a spaceship; you’re trying to manifest something basic like a new job or some money. and you’re sitting here overthinking it like you’re some kind of genius? no. It’s simple, honey: assume it’s already yours. you’re either too stupid to get it or too scared to believe you deserve it. either way, figure it out.

[honeypiehotchner]

The Gambit (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- part twelve

I need y'all to know that I'm writing part 18 rn and it's getting GOOD I can't wait this fic is so fun to write and I'm so happy you guys are loving it as much as I'm loving writing it!!! 🤭💞

Warnings: once again they're...getting along? never fear they still argue though, things are...about to get crazy, (i hope we are picking up on the subtle moments of attraction bc they're only going to get worse xoxo)

After three days of straight paperwork — and one annoying HR meeting because someone from a different department must’ve heard you and Hotch arguing and decided to tattle — you’re going insane. You need something else to do besides sit in a chair staring at files all day, listening to Morgan and Reid bicker, and glaring at Hotch every time you catch him looking at you through his office window.

You’ve heard nothing new from the case in Alabama. Radio silence from the unsub. Radio silence from the police. Nothing new from the sketch Lila helped with, too. Nothing at all, with anything.

You’re going stir crazy. 

You need a new case to come in. Given what Strauss told you in that meeting, you expect a new case to come in any minute.

What you do not expect is to come back from lunch on the fourth day to find Strauss in Hotch’s office, or for them to be arguing. With the door open, for god’s sake, so everyone in departments three floors down can hear.

You don’t think before you haul ass up the stairs, especially not after you hear your own name in the midst of their poor attempts to not shout, turning everyone’s heads. Your mind immediately conjures up the worst case scenario: that they’re arguing about your father, about how Strauss let you seal that part of your file, and somehow Hotch found out that she let you, and now it’s all getting blown out of proportion.

You can’t make out the source of their arguing, though, because they’re just shouting nonsense at one another, bordering on insults. 

Jesus, is this what it sounds like to everyone else when you and Hotch argue?

Strauss and Hotch both stop bickering as soon as they spot you hovering in the doorway. You raise your eyebrows at them like a parent catching two siblings in the middle of an unnecessary fight — which isn’t that far off the mark.

“Ma’am,” you nod to Strauss. “Hotch,” you look over at him. “I heard my name. What’s going on?”

Strauss answers, turning toward you, “Richard Monroe has stopped cooperating with the authorities. He’s said he’ll cooperate again, but he wants to speak with you first.”

“No,” Hotch says firmly, one hand planted on his hip, his other hand pointing an accusatory finger in Strauss’s direction, then at you. “There is no reason for Richard to speak with her.”

“Why not?” you ask, trying to keep your tone on the calmer side, at least while Strauss is present. “If it’ll make him cooperate, I’ll talk with him.”

“Thank you,” Strauss says, relieved, before turning to give Hotch a lethal glare. “See? I told you you’re getting worked up over nothing, Aaron.”

“I’ll be fine,” you say, whether to assure yourself or Hotch, you have no idea. “It’s one conversation. It’s not like I haven’t spoken to him bef—”

“It’s not just one conversation,” Hotch fumes.

“Stop acting like I can’t handle this job,” you argue.

Hotch almost looks offended. “That’s not what I’m—” 

“I don’t care what it is,” Strauss shouts over the both of you. “Agent, you’ll speak with Richard tomorrow. I’ve already scheduled it, and I’ll forward you the details. Hotch, I’ll let them know you’ll be attending as well.”

“Excuse me?” Hotch says.

“What?” you blurt at the same time. “I don’t need him to come with me.”

“Well, you’re not allowed to go alone, and frankly, Aaron, if it bothers you so badly, you should go with her, as Unit Chief,” Strauss says, her phone ringing in her pocket halfway through her sentence. “I’m late for a meeting. This is settled. Understood?”

Hotch looks like he’d rather put his own foot up his ass until he tastes the sole of his shoe. “Understood.”

“Yes ma’am,” you nod, stepping aside to let Strauss leave. “Thank you.”

You don’t bother waiting for Hotch to speak before inviting yourself into his office all the way. It takes everything in you not to slam the door behind Strauss. He yanks the blinds closed with just as much anger, chest practically heaving. You’re surprised he didn’t rip them off the wall with the force.

“What the hell was that?” you hiss. These walls, no matter how much you wish they were, aren’t soundproof, and by now you’ve probably attracted the attention of the entire goddamn floor, let alone your nosy teammates who are returning from lunch.

“I might ask you the same thing,” Hotch fires back, rounding his desk. You know what he’s doing, trying to tower over you and intimidate you. It won’t work, not with you. He should know that by now. “Did you know about this?”

“About Richard Monroe being a manipulative piece of shit? Of course I’ve known— I’m not a fucking idiot, Hotch.”

“I never said you were! Stop putting words in my—” he curses, pinching the bridge of his nose before resting his hand on his hip. “I don’t want you speaking to him.”

“Why?”

“Do I need to remind you what happened in that interrogation room?” Hotch says, voice surprisingly calm for how angry you remember him being that day. “He recognized you and you won’t tell me why—”

“Because I don’t know why,” you shoot back. It’s the honest truth, even if there’s pieces of information you could share. But you don’t want to; you’re not ready. “And I don’t know why you don’t trust me, but it’s grating on my nerves, Hotch. You say I’m a valuable asset to this team, yet you’re acting like I’m not capable of speaking to an unsub that I've spoken to before — for an hour.”

His chest is heaving, but he doesn’t say a damn thing. He just keeps standing there, looking down at you, clenching his jaw.

“I’m going to speak with Richard Monroe tomorrow,” you say, standing nearly toe-to-toe with Hotch. “Whether or not you join me is entirely up to you. But if you’re just going to act like this, then,” you gesture between the two of you, shaking your head. “Don’t bother coming. I’ll get someone else to go with me. You can call out sick for all I fucking care.”

You storm out of his office then, slamming the door behind you so hard you’d be surprised if the window didn’t rattle.

You jump when you realize Rossi is standing in his office doorway, watching you.

“What?” you snap. You don’t mean to take the frustration out on him too, but it’s hard not to when he’s lurking like that. 

Rossi raises his eyebrows, backing into his office without another word. 

You can’t deal with this right now.

Hotch’s door opens behind you and you spin around, freezing when you’re face to face with him. His expression is as unreadable as it always is, but you know he’s pissed at you.

“I’m going home to rest up before tomorrow,” you say, making sure your tone conveys it not as a request but a statement of fact. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Hotch nods once and that’s good enough for you, so you turn and head for your desk, gathering your things.

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” you say, flashing a tight smile to the rest of the team. “Bye.”

“Um…bye…?” Reid looks around to be sure everyone is as confused as he is. They are, but they all shrug, letting you leave.

Up the stairs, Hotch watches you go, knuckles white from where he’s gripping the railing. He shouldn’t have let you go so easily, but you both need to cool down, and if you’re really going to do this tomorrow, you need your rest. 

From beside him, Rossi pointedly clears his throat.

Hotch turns his head, following Rossi’s silent request to follow him into his office. He pushes the door closed behind him.

Hotch starts to pace, then stops in the middle of the room, lifting his arm and dropping it in a what the hell gesture. “She’s going to speak with Richard Monroe tomorrow.”

“I heard,” Dave smirks. “And you’re going with her?”

“I have no choice, do I?” Aaron replies, rubbing his forehead. “I’ll have to tell her tomorrow. If he says anything else about recognizing her—”

“Are you sure he wasn’t saying that just to get a rise out of her? She’s a new agent, she’s attractive—” Rossi cuts himself off when he sees Hotch’s glare. “You know what I mean.”

“Yes,” Hotch says. “I know.”

“She doesn’t know him, Aaron,” Dave says. “How would she? He’s a serial killer who’s been on the run—”

“He knows things about her childhood, Dave,” Hotch cries. “If he knows about the kidnapping, and her father, then who knows what else he’s heard— who knows what he’ll do—”

“Aaron,” Rossi shakes his head. “I know you want to help her, but you can’t protect her, and she can take care of herself.”

“I know she can,” Hotch says, dropping his hand in defeat. “I know.” You’ve been taking care of everything ever since he first met you. He knows you’re more than capable.

He just doesn’t want to find out what happens when you face something you can’t handle alone — and if he’s the one who lets you go at this alone, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself.

He can’t shake the gut feeling that you’re in way over your head and you don’t realize it. Because you don’t even know what you’re dealing with.

+++

You hardly sleep at all, so you’re in a piss poor mood the next morning, and you blame Hotch for it. Naturally.

So, of course, it also irritates the fuck out of you when you arrive at the office and there’s a coffee waiting on your desk. And an apologetic looking Unit Chief standing next to it, identical coffee cup in hand.

You toss your purse down in your chair, glaring at Hotch. “Are you in a better mood today?”

“Peace offering?” he says instead, gesturing to the coffee on your desk.

“Did you poison it?”

He stares at you tiredly.

You pick it up, keeping your eyes on him as you inhale the steam still rising from the hole in the lid. “What is it?”

“Your favorite,” he replies. “Thought it might make the drive easier.”

“Oh?” You smirk. “Am I driving?”

“No,” he scoffs — which oddly almost sounds like a laugh.

You snicker, bringing the cup to your lips. You don’t miss the way Hotch’s eyes follow the motion, or the way they get stuck on your lips before he averts them, like he senses he’s been caught.

It takes everything in you not to call him out on it. You settle for tasting your coffee and letting out a noise of surprise.

“What?” Hotch asks. “Is it wrong?”

“No, it’s good,” you reply quickly. “It’s right. Thanks.”

He nods once. “Good. Um, I’ll be in my office. We’ll leave in about an hour.”

“Sounds good to me,” you nod, raising your cup in cheers. “See you in a bit.”

Hotch heads up to his office without another word, leaving you with a whole world of confusion. 

He’s buying you coffee now? Seriously?

Thank god no one else was here to witness that. You’d never live that one down if Morgan heard all of it.

You shove your purse aside and sit down, putting your head in your hands. You take a deep breath, steadying yourself, continuing the long process of mentally preparing for speaking with Richard Monroe today.

“Long night?” 

You raise your head to glare at Morgan, but it holds no real heat. You’re too tired and you’re not even mad at him. “Don’t even get me started.”

His mouth forms an ‘o’ as inhales sharply. “That bad, huh?” He drops his bag next to his desk, instead coming over to prop himself on the edge of yours. “Talk to me.”

“Morgan,” you sigh, dropping your head back into your hands. “Not today, seriously.”

“What’s happening today?” he asks. “You never did say why you left so suddenly yesterday.”

You lift your head and glance toward Hotch’s office, slightly relieved to find his door closed and his head turned down toward paperwork on his desk. When you look back at Derek, he does the most not-subtle look over his shoulder at Hotch before looking back at you.

“No.”

You lean back, eyebrows furrowed. “No what?”

Morgan starts to grin. “You two finally get your shit together?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I see how it is,” Morgan chuckles, lightly tapping your shoulder. “Come on, tell me. Who made the first move?”

“Get off of my desk,” you say through gritted teeth, shoving his leg. “Nothing happened. I have to go speak to Richard Monroe today and Hotch is coming with—”

“What?” Morgan asks, incredulous. “Richard Monroe? Why him?”

“Because he’s not cooperating with the investigation anymore but says he will if he speaks to me first,” you explain like it’s nothing — because it is. “Strauss told me about it a couple weeks ago.”

“No,” Morgan shakes his head. “I don’t like the idea of this.”

You roll your eyes, grabbing your coffee. “Now you sound just like Hotch.”

“Good,” Morgan slides off your desk, shrugging. “‘Cause this doesn’t sound like a good idea. You had a panic attack after talking to him.”

You shake your head. “That’s not—”

“I know what those look like,” Morgan argues. “Whether or not that’s what you call them, that’s what they are.”

“Leave it alone,” you warn.

He holds up his hands in surrender. “Alright. Just— You know the drill. Call me if you need me. And try not to kill him,” he adds with a quick glance up to Hotch’s office.

“No promises,” you reply, tipping your coffee back.

+++

When Hotch comes down to the bullpen an hour later, you notice everyone’s eyes zeroing in on his coffee, then yours, taking note of the matching cups. Prentiss is first to raise her eyebrows at you. You give her a look that just says don’t. She says nothing, but her smirk tells you she’ll be messaging the group chat about it later.

“Ready?” Hotch asks.

“Yep,” you nod, grabbing your purse and standing. You offer a mock salute to the rest of your team. “See you on the other side.”

Morgan laughs, shaking his head at you. “Try not to kill each other. Please.”

You and Hotch roll your eyes at the same time, freezing when you catch the other doing it.

It takes a surprising amount of effort on your part to not smile.

You swipe your coffee off your desk, downing the last remaining drops as the two of you walk toward the exit. “Thanks for this again, by the way,” you say quietly, tossing your empty cup in the trash can in the hall. “You didn’t have to.”

“It’s not a problem,” he replies, tossing his as well while you hit the down arrow on the elevator.

The silence blankets you both inside the elevator as you stand as far apart as possible. Like you both know you need to cherish your personal space before you’re stuck in a car together for three straight hours — one way.

Since Hotch is driving, you head toward where you know his car will be in the parking deck. The spaces aren’t even assigned; he’s just a creature of habit. You, on the other hand, hardly ever park in the same spot. Hotch has always wondered why.

“If this radio turns on and starts playing some classical music bullshit, I’m going to be so disappointed in you, Hotchner,” you tease as you buckle yourself in.

Hotch says nothing as he turns the key in the ignition. A second later, The Beatles’s white album fills the car. Namely, the song “I Will”.

“Seriously?” you grin. “The white album?”

“What’s wrong with it?” he asks, immediately on the defensive.

“Nothing,” you hum, looking out the window. “I’m partial to Abbey Road.”

“Of course you would be.”

Your head whips toward him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugs. “Nothing.”

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he’s smiling. 

You narrow your eyes before turning your head, biting back your own smile for the second time this morning.

Maybe you are warming up to each other — slightly — or maybe it means nothing. 

Whatever it is, you don’t have time to think about it today. You have a serial killer who wants to speak with you, who somehow knows who you are despite you having never met him before, and the only explanation must have something to do with your father — who Hotch still knows nothing about.

[meadowfics]

not your concern

the salesman x f!reader

part two to the regular

warnings: mentions of death, I used the actor's name as a placement name for the salesman (who's real name is not known or canon)

one year.  

three hundred and sixty-five days of marriage. when you had agreed to his offer, you never thought life would turn out this way. better than you expected, even. there had not been a single time when you had to think about money.

gong yoo had taken care of everything before you even had the chance to. rent? nonexistent. bills? never crossed your mind. your old habit of checking your bank balance every night before bed? unnecessary.  

your life, once dictated by numbers, debt collectors, and sleepless nights at that rundown café, had transformed into something entirely foreign. no financial stress. no work. only comfort.  

he had only one rule: never ask about his work.  

fine, you thought at the time. you had worked enough in your life, exhausted yourself in ways you never wanted to again. so you stayed out of it. no questions. no curiosity. just… existing in the life he gave you.  

in your free time, you indulged in things you had once pushed aside… painting, skincare, even sightseeing. sometimes, you spent entire afternoons in art galleries, admiring brushstrokes and colors. 

other times, you lost yourself in the quiet ritual of self-care, trying every serum, every mask, every oil you once could never afford.  

it was a strange kind of freedom. one you had to get used to.  

as a husband, he had been nothing short of great. loving, attentive, surprisingly kind. not once had he been cold or dismissive. he touched you like he cherished you, looked at you like he meant it. 

intimacy between you both was never lacking. it was fulfilling, tender, and, above all, real. he wasn’t a sugar daddy figure at all, just an older man that you’ve grown to love, just after getting the ring. 

nothing to complain about. no reason to question anything.  

until one encounter on a late afternoon. 

you remember the scent of fresh herbs and ripe fruit filling the air as you browsed through the produce store, picking out what you needed for dinner. cooking had become something you enjoyed since you no longer had to work long shifts. 

now, you had the time to make meals from scratch, experiment with recipes, and create something warm for whenever your husband returns home. it was a simple pleasure, one you never got to indulge in before. its been turning out great, since gong yoo always compliments your skill in culinary. 

you grabbed a bunch of green onions, then turned to head toward the tomatoes when—  

thud.  

"oh my… sorry! excuse me," you said instinctively, stepping back.  

the man you had bumped into didn’t move right away. he was dressed in all black, a cap pulled low over his face, obscuring most of his features. something about him made you uneasy, but he didn’t seem outright dangerous. 

still, you weren’t in the mood for small talk, so you moved to step around him.  

"wait," his voice stopped you.  

your fingers curled slightly around the plastic bag in your hand. 

"...yes?"  

"i have a question..” 

the man says, determined for an answer that you’ll say.

“go ahead?” you say in confusion. 

you hope it's not a date proposal, you’re already married to the man of your dreams. 

“do you know a man who’s always in suits? plays ddakji with strangers all around seoul? hands out cards with shapes on them afterward?"  

your heart nearly stopped.  

he was describing gong yoo.  

your husband.  

your expression remained unreadable, the years of learning to mask your emotions paying off. you blinked once before shaking your head, feigning confusion. 

"i’m sorry, i haven’t seen anyone like that before."  

you had no reason to trust this man. your loyalty was to your husband, not to some stranger lurking in a grocery store asking odd questions.  

the man hummed, tilting his head slightly, as if studying you. 

"i ask because i’m looking for him," he continued, "he’s partially responsible for the deaths of hundreds of people every year."  

the man's words were absurd. ridiculous, even. you almost wanted to scoff. sure, you didn’t know the details of your husband’s job, but murder? hundreds of people dying because of him?  

yeah, right.  

"i’m sorry, but i have no clue who you’re talking about," you said, shaking your head again, reinforcing the lie.  

the man exhaled through his nose. 

"you’re protecting him," he stated. not an accusation, just a fact.  

this time, your heart did stutter.  

he knew.  

you kept your face neutral, but the blood in your veins felt like ice. 

"you must’ve gotten the wrong person," you said smoothly, forcing out a small, apologetic smile, 

"i’m sorry, but i have to go."  

without waiting for a response, you walked to the register, casually placing your items on the counter. your fingers trembled slightly as you tapped your card, but otherwise, you kept yourself composed.  

as soon as you stepped outside, you checked, subtly, carefully, if the man was following.  

he wasn’t.  

still, the unease didn’t leave you.  

clutching the bag of produce a little tighter, you made your way home, the stranger’s words replaying in your head.

when you returned home to your sky-rise penthouse, the tension in your chest still hadn’t fully dissipated. the city lights casted soft glows along the sleek, expensive interior of your home. it was a lifestyle you had grown accustomed to, one of quiet luxury, security, and ease.  

however, placing the bag of produce on the marble kitchen island, you let out a slow breath. that encounter had shaken you more than you wanted to admit. you weren’t naive. you knew gong yoo’s work wasn’t normal. 

the idea that he was responsible for people’s deaths? that part didn’t fit or make sense.  

before you could spiral too much, the sound of the door unlocking pulled you from your thoughts.  

"y/n, sweetheart, i'm home," his familiar voice filled the space.  

you turned, greeted by the sight of your husband stepping inside. he loosened his tie as he walked toward you, the usual warmth in his expression unchanged. 

as always, he wrapped an arm around your waist, pressing a soft kiss against your temple before pulling back just enough to look at you.  

"how was your day?" he asked, brushing a strand of hair from your face.  

"fine," you replied, but your hesitation must have been obvious. he tilted his head slightly, silently prompting you to continue.  

you sighed, leaning against the counter. 

"something strange happened today. i ran into this man at the store. he asked if i knew someone who plays ddakji in subway stations and hands out cards to strangers."  

gong yoo’s expression didn’t change. not even a flicker of surprise, even though he knew exactly who you were talking about.  

seong gi-hun.

"what did you say?"  

"i told him i didn’t know anyone like that," you admitted, "but then he said he was looking for you because you’re responsible for… the deaths of hundreds of people every year."  

for a moment, there was only silence between you.  

suddenly, gong yoo exhaled lightly, a small, almost amused smile on his lips, "and do you believe him?"  

you hesitated. 

"...i don’t know. i mean, i don’t know much about what you actually do."  

he reached out, gently cupping your chin, his thumb brushing over your jawline. 

"you don’t have to. that’s not your concern."  

he said it so easily. so calmly.  

you searched his eyes for something, anything, but all you found was unwavering certainty and really, what more could you ask for?  

as long as you were comfortable, as long as you weren’t in danger, what reason did you have to dig any deeper? you had agreed to this life a long time ago, and it had given you everything you never thought you’d have.  

so, you nodded. 

"you’re right. it’s not my concern."  

he smiled, pleased with your answer, and pressed another kiss to your forehead. 

"good girl."  

just like that, the subject was closed.  

you turned back to prepping dinner, the encounter at the store already beginning to fade from your mind. 

after all, you had everything you could ever want so why question it?

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