#until you see it in the transcript

[thedrotter]

I have a gift for y'all today !!! 😊 Ever wanted to find a line in Re:Kinder in a single place for the sake of reference?? How about multiple chunks of lines. how about all the little variations that arise in the text with it's many endings, item descriptions, text that comes from interacting with the enviroment, and character info from the menu without having to boot up the game and go through it at long minutes!!???

well i sure did😊 Since I do a lot of fanart and think up my own silly theories and thoughts that need me to reference the game lines a lot, i have made a transcript for it for convenience's sake. A weirdly thorough transcript handwritten and proofread by me including all character lines available in-game. And I'm sharing it with you all today for anyone that wants it !!! :3 To use as a reference for creative fanworks or a quick search for a line in-game, whatever you wish to use it for!!

It uses the english translation of the game by vgperson. So naturally all credit for the game lines available in here is to her and Parun who made the game.

I did my best to organize it in a way easy to digest. Do note that I'm still human, and there's still the chance for mistake in it no matter how much I've proofread it, since I'm not even an english native speaker ^^. But I hope it serves you well nonetheless if you wish to use it.

That's my gift for today!!! Not the usual art, but still a project I'm proud of. Enjoy!!! 😊

[daddy-socrates]

sometimes i forget that i started this blog to be about philosophy. anyway i've already told all my group chats so here's one for the blog: just got off a video call w the admissions director at my tied-for-first-choice university and i cannot tell if he thinks i have a shot or if im too much of a loser for their very cool program.

he did give me the very good advice to email faculty i want to work with to introduce myself and get to know them and their work, so maybe that's indicative of . good rapport idk

off to write emails and hope professors deign to respond. please i want to keep doing epistemology. what does it matter

[coconut530]

I’ve caught another one, fellas

[tonhalszendvics]

I follow some ppl who went nuts for She Who Became the Sun, and since it's the best kind of advertisement for me, I obviously read it, and was baffled. So good. Can recommend.

I tend to read actual published books mostly in my native language since, y'know, I'm pretty sure the translator speaks the og language better than me. Turns out this book is a duology and everyone and their mother already read book 2 and I'm here with book 1, which was released in 2023.

However. Someone thought that they should just use the Hungarian transcript for the names, which is kinda okay for me, since I don't speak Chinese at all and had to beg for a pronunciation chart for MDZS (but in my mind I still said those names as they were written. Let's not talk about it.) My Chinese speaking friend almost cried blood when she saw the names.

Long story short, it took me a while to decipher that people are talking about those books in detail, bc Ouyang is the only one who I was able to recognise from those posts. Esen? Who's that? Oh, you mean Jeszün, aaaaa

Here I am, avoiding spoilers like bullets in the Matrix with the power of language barrier

[elainemorisi]

man truly does mortgage his soul for Daniel, damn

[milkymars]

Everything we know about Bill Cipher's past so far

His home was called Euclydia and it was entirely two dimensional. ("Flat minds in a flat world with flat dreams.")

Bill was unique among his people because he had a mutation that allowed him to see the third dimension. This can mean that either a) Euclideans don't have eyes and Bill is the only one who had one or b) if they did have eyes, he literally had a third eye.

Bill's parents were most likely named Scalene and Euclid. Entering either of their names into the computer gives the prompt LIFE FORM NOT FOUND. Bill is stated to only draw red and blue triangles in art therapy, so those were probably their appearances.

From the code JUSTFITIN, you get this colour-coded poem:

Rock a bye billy Please don’t you cry It’s not your fault You have that strange eye Stay safe with mommy You’ll never fall And we’ll always love you Sharp angles and all

Bill says that everyone in Euclydia loved him. However, it's more likely that he was feared because of his mutation and talk of a third dimension. Bill has said numerous times that love and fear are the same, and if you enter WELLWELLWELLBEING into the computer:

Bill's parents took him to a doctor to help suppress his vision of the third dimension. This has been discovered through the codes on the silly straw page:

Fussy eater, baby Billy / Wouldn't drink unless it's silly The doctor says three sips a day / Will make the visions go away Eye doctor of a different kind / Who wants to make his patient blind Twisted out of shape after the kill / The ghosts of his family are haunting him still

Bill is responsible for the Euclidean massacre. Reversed audio on the website says that "the sky is on fire", and when Bill talks about liberating his dimension, his eye shows a fiery landscape too. Though he claims to have liberated them both in Weirdmageddon and the transmission with Time Baby, he is regretful and misses home. If you type in EVENHISLIESARELIES, you get a transcript of one of his sessions in the theraprism.

And from the axolotl's poem in Curse of the Time Pirate's Treasure:

When he tells Ford about his home dimension, he says that it was destroyed by a monster. And when Ford says that he could seek out the monster and get revenge on it, Bill replies: "Sixer, it would eat you alive." Bill also says that if he tries to talk about the day Euclydia was destroyed, there's a loud buzzing in his ears and he blacks out for 30 seconds. Still, he tells others that he freed everyone and that they are grateful for it. Until he gets drunk and starts calling out for his mom, asking her where she went...

[cinnasite]

the science of sleeping with your best friend

꩜ pairing: timeskip!kenma kozume x virgin!female reader

꩜ warnings: explicit content, language

꩜ word count: 4.3k

꩜ synopsis: you relationship with kenma has always been understated—quiet moments, mutual understanding, and an unspoken connection. but when you open up about your insecurities regarding intimacy, things take a turn. one kiss, a subtle shift in dynamics, and suddenly everything you once knew feels entirely different. caught in a whirlwind of desire and growing affection, you find yourself grappling with feelings that you've ignored for years. is it too late to turn back or is this the beginning of something far deeper?

You vividly remember the day you moved to Japan. You were eleven, your nervousness amplified by the way the airport had smelled—metallic, unfamiliar, cold. Your mother stayed back in your hometown with your younger brother, and you followed your father across the ocean for his new job… your new life. You told yourself it was an adventure, trembling in anticipation.

It wasn’t. Not at first.

Making friends when you didn’t speak the language fluently and stood out in every classroom turned out to be less like an odyssey and more of a series of long, silent lunch breaks. Teachers tried, some classmates smiled, but nothing stuck. Not until high school.

Transferring to Nekoma High at fifteen was your father’s idea. He’d said something about the school’s progressive curriculum and cultural diversity. You hadn’t hoped for much until, one week into classes, the principal cornered you near the shoe lockers and asked if you’d consider being the manager for the boys’ volleyball team.

“It’s part of a new initiative. We’re looking to build an inclusive sports environment,” he said. “And you have excellent organisational skills from your transcript.” You said yes, mostly out of curiosity. And maybe because it was the first time someone had sought you out, instead of the other way around.

The first practice was awkward, to put it lightly. A room full of sweaty teenage guys and sharp whistles. You stood off to the side, notebook in hand, questioning every life choice that led you there with a resigned sigh. Until Kuroo Tetsurō slung an arm around your shoulders and said, “Don’t worry, you’re one of us now. You’ll get used to these knuckleheads.”

The team protested. You laughed for the first time in weeks. That’s how it all began.

They took you under their wing like a little sister, especially Kuroo—he treated you with a big-brother protectiveness that made the transition less lonely. Lev would tell you outrageous lies just to see you smile. Yamamoto always tried too hard to impress you but meant well. Yaku taught you how to be blunt in Japanese without accidentally insulting someone’s grandmother.

But the one you inexplicably gravitated toward was Kenma.

You were the same age, and the same reserved type, at least at first glance. Though unlike him, you didn’t mind talking. People were drawn to you in a way that surprised you. So, Kenma didn’t intimidate you. If anything, you felt safe around him. He was calm, observant, and never asked for more than you were willing to give.

You’d sit beside him during breaks, leaning over his shoulder as he played on his handheld console.

“You’re always watching,” he’d say without looking up.

“I like watching,” you’d plainly reply.

And when he let you try it out yourself—tentatively handing over his console like it was something fragile—you knew you had earned his trust. You’d talk about things beyond video games. Books. Movies. Your homesickness. His dislike of crowds. The weird comfort of silence. He was the only one who didn’t flinch when you talked about the divorce or missing your mom and brother.

By the end of your second year, you were inseparable. Everyone saw it—hell, even Kuroo made a habit of teasing you about it.

“She’s the Kenma whisperer,” he’d joke. “He actually talks around her.”

You dismissed it. You told yourself it was just friendship, that the small twists in your stomach when his shoulder brushed yours were normal. That the deliberate and soft way he looked at you was just how he looked at everyone.

But somewhere near the end of school, when the weight of the future started crawling into every conversation, you realised you felt something more. And it scared the hell out of you. You didn’t say anything. How could you risk losing what you had when it had taken you so long to find it?

After graduation, the team drifted as people often do. University took everyone in different directions, but you all stayed in touch. Kuroo’s group chats were relentless and reunions became an annual thing, something precious to look forward to.

With Kenma, your bond never faded. If anything, it grew.

Even when you were in different cities, the two of you never changed—late night phone calls, half-asleep messages, and meeting up whenever you could. Both of you still talked like no time had passed. Still knew each other in that rare, bone-deep way. However, you dated around, courtesy of your college roommate urging you to move on and get laid. You had simply nodded, telling yourself the crush was a remnant of adolescence. It had to be. It wasn’t healthy to keep holding on.

Tragically, it never went anywhere with the people you went out with. No one matched the way Kenma understood you without trying. No one matched the genuinity and the slow-burn thrill.

And now, in your twenties, with a stable job and a quiet apartment, you were beginning to admit that maybe it had never been just a crush.

But if that was true… what in the world were you supposed to do about it?

Kenma’s penthouse was everything you’d expect: clean lines, muted colors, and minimalist furniture. Expensive in a subtle way. 

He was already curled up on the low couch when you stepped in, barefoot and hoodie-clad, legs tucked under himself like a cat. “You’re late,” he murmured without looking up from his nintendo.

“You’re lucky I even showed up,” you replied, dropping your bag by the door.

“Oh?” His eyes flicked up momentarily, amused. “Is this you playing hard to get?”

You rolled your eyes and sank into the seat beside him, close enough for your knees to brush. “If I was playing hard to get, you wouldn’t stand a chance.”

That earned a low hum of laughter. “So self-assured.”

The night unfolded the way it generally did—casual banter, leftover takeout, and dumb inside jokes that had survived since Nekoma. You both sat there, bodies angled toward each other, the city lights painting the walls with a faint gold.

At one point, he turned off the TV, but neither of you moved. There was a falter. A lapse stretching between words. Then, after much thought, you said it.

“Can I ask you something kind of... weird?”

Kenma blinked. “Sure.”

You took a breath. “Do you ever think you’re, like, bad in bed?”

His eyebrows rose. That certainly wasn’t what he’d imagined the conversation would jump to. You winced at yourself. “Okay, wow, that sounded way more self-deprecating than I meant it to.”

“Little bit.”

“I’m serious,” you said, shifting to face him fully. “I’ve dated, right? But it never really went anywhere. And when it did get physical, it just… didn’t go that far.”

Kenma didn’t interrupt. Merely listened.

“I mean, I’ve done stuff,” you continue rambling, suddenly fascinated by the hem of your sleeve. “A little oral. Some handjobs. But, um, I’ve never… had sex.”

There it was. Out in the open. You’d lobbed the confession between you like a live grenade, waiting for it to detonate. Only that it didn’t. The lack of response wasn’t exactly suffocating, though it did make you scream a little on the inside. 

Kenma’s voice was gentler than you expected when it came. “Why are you thinking about this now?”

His words made you hesitate. “Because I’m trying to see people again. But every time I get close to someone, I panic. I keep doubting myself—what if I’m not good at it? What if they expect me to know what I’m doing and I don’t?”

A beat.

“And it’s not about being ashamed,” you added quickly. “I just want to feel... in control. Comfortable.”

Kenma studied you. “You could just tell them.”

“I know. But I don’t want it to be a thing. Like, ‘oh no, she’s a virgin, handle her with care.’” You wrinkled your nose. “I don’t want pity sex. Or worse, performance sex.” You dared a peep at him. “Have you…?”

He tilted his head. “Had sex?”

Your ears burned, unsure of whether you wanted to hear the answer. “Yeah.”

Kenma leaned back against the couch, arms crossed. “I have.”

The words sat in the air like smoke. You ignored the tightening of your chest. “Was it good?” you asked. Perhaps, a little too quickly.

He gave you a look. “You really want to know?”

You stammered. “Yes. No. Kind of. For research purposes.”

He smirked. “Of course.”

“Shut up.”

He was quiet for a moment before replying, “Some of it was good. Depends on the person, I guess.”

You hummed, eyes on his collarbone. “Would you ever, uh, be willing to show someone the ropes?”

A pause. “What do you mean?”

You didn’t answer right away. The apartment felt charged, causing your fingers to twist in your lap. Without meeting his gaze, you exhaled shakily.

“I was just thinking… if I ever wanted to figure this out—hypothetically—you’re the only person I’d trust not to make it weird.”

Kenma stilled, lips parting. “Hypothetically?”

“Yeah.”

Another pause. A longer one. “You’re asking me to have sex with you.”

Your stomach flipped. “I didn’t say that.”

“But that’s what you meant.” 

You groaned. “Forget it. This was dumb. I shouldn’t have—”

“I didn’t say no.” Kenma looked at you. Not joking, not teasing—just looking. That same sincere care you’d known for years, now sharpened with something else.

Something almost hungry.

“Do you want me to?” he asked, voice low. “Help you?”

Your heart thundered. “Well, I—Only if… you want to.”

He leaned forward. “I want to. Let’s start with a kiss.”

You froze, eyes widening at the abruptness of it all.

“Since, you know,” he added casually, “we’re doing research.” You laughed—nervous, breathy—and nodded. “Right. For the glory of science.”

He moved in leisurely, giving you every chance to pull back. You didn’t. His lips brushed yours once. Gentle and testing, your breath hitching at the sensation. You kissed him again. More assertive than previously. As a result, his hand found your cheek. The angle changed, the excitement deepened.

You realised begrudgingly that your idea had stopped being hypothetical real fast.

Kenma and you grew feverish, your actions slow, then speedy, like you couldn’t get enough. You gripped his hoodie in an act of desperation. His fingers trailed along your waist, reluctant yet calculating. You felt his touch at the hem of your t-shirt and gasped, pulling back.

“I—I need to stop,” you whispered.

Kenma, breathing heavily, nodded. “Okay.”

You sat there, chests heaving, foreheads nearly touching.

“That was…” you began.

“Mhm,” he said, voice hoarse. “It was.”

You didn’t sleep together that night. Be that as it may, something had undoubtedly shifted. Something you couldn’t take back. Neither of you were prepared for what that first sensuous encounter had unlocked. 

After the kiss, everything was different. Not in a dramatic, movie-like way, mind you. There were no whispered confessions or next-day declarations. You didn’t even text about it. Not directly, though every message after did have a different weight to it.

gamer boi: you left your ring on the bathroom sink

You: OMGTHANKYOU i’ve been searching for it all day :(

gamer boi: how did you even forget it?? isn’t it your favourite????  

You: it’s not my fault someone kept me distracted with his mouth 🙄

gamer boi: don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it

The next time you saw Kenma, you were wearing a sundress with zero intentions of escalating anything. Apparently, it didn’t matter.

You were barely inside before Kenma tugged you in by the wrist, your back hitting the front door with a loud thud. His mouth was on yours again, hands roaming like he’d been starved of touch. His fingers curled around your waist, dragging you flush against him. You let out an embarrassingly needy whimper, arms looped around his neck for balance.

It was supposed to be another kiss. Nothing too intense, nothing too fiery. But soon his tongue brushed against yours—mischievously coaxing. When his knee slid between your thighs, you knew that you were done for.

Your nails dug into his shoulders and he groaned into your mouth.

“Okay?” he checked in, lips grazing your jaw.

You nodded, breathless. “Yeah. Just—you… it’s all very new. ”

He paused. “Tell me if you want to stop.”

“I will.”

That night, you didn’t go all the way either.

But you let him touch you. Really touch you.

You ended up in his lap on the couch, your dress hiked up, his t-shirt discarded somewhere on the floor. His motions were maddeningly drawn out—smoothing over your thighs, teasing under your panties, fingers slicking gently over you until you were shaking. One thing you’d grown to learn thanks to these electrifying escapades was that Kenma neither rushed nor demanded.

Just observed.

He watched you unravel, watched you fall apart with nothing more than his hand between your legs and his mouth pressed to your throat.

You’d returned the favour a week later—kneeling between his knees in that same living room, palms steady even though your mind was a mess. He had gripped your hair, but not harshly—more like he didn’t know what else to hold onto.

And after, when you wiped your mouth and leaned your cheek against his thigh, both of you panting hard, he murmured, “You’re dangerous when you’re confident.”

You smiled. “Guess the research is working, huh?”

His only answer was a smirk.

Life, as it usually does, got in the way. You were swamped at work and Kenma had his own obligations. Days passed. Weeks, even. You didn’t meet up with him, but you felt him everywhere. In your skin. In your thoughts. In the aching, restless emptiness of your bed. And worse: you missed him. Not just the way he touched you—but the him of it. His deadpan humour. The way he’d pause in conversation like he was thinking four moves ahead. The attractive rasp of his voice. The way he drank you in.

You missed your friend. You craved your… something.

You didn’t know what you were to him anymore. In spite of that, you knew that you needed him.

Kuroo’s reunion couldn’t have come at a better—or worse—time.

You’d dressed without overthinking it. Okay, maybe a little overthinking. The black corset hugged your curves like sin. The skirt hit mid-thigh, leaving appropriately enough to the imagination. The oversized leather blazer added a touch of effortlessness you didn’t actually feel. And the platform boots? Tall enough to be seductive.

When you walked into the high-end restaurant, every eye turned. On the contrary, you only looked for one.

Kenma was at the bar, drink in hand, dressed in a black button-up with the sleeves rolled to his forearms. His hair was tousled, face unreadable. But when he saw you, he froze. Eyes trailing down greedily, taking his sweet time. He didn’t smile or wave.

Later, after hours of group toasts, dodging Kuroo’s banter, and pretending you didn’t itch with anticipation, Kenma found you on the rooftop balcony.

The city buzzed beneath.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” you said, not turning around. 

He stepped closer, “You’ve been busy.”

“So have you.”

All you hear for a few seconds is the cacophony of traffic and pedestrians.

“You look good tonight.”

You swallowed, your feet carrying you to him. “Yeah?”

Kenma appeared to be just as tormented as you. “Too good.”

“That a problem?”

He didn’t bother with an answer. Reaching for you, he hastily tugged you close. His mouth slanted over yours, hot and aching, weeks (he’d argue, proclaiming ‘years’) of self-control slipping like sand through fingers.

You didn’t even remember getting into the cab.

The moment Kenma’s apartment door shut behind you, it was chaos.

Lips crashing. Hands fumbling. Breath caught between kisses that were all teeth and tongue, no space for thought. Kenma backed you against the wall while you yanked at the buttons of his shirt like you were unwinding every second you’d spent pretending this wasn’t what you wanted. He dragged your blazer off, then your corset. His hands slid up your thighs, underneath your skirt, finding nothing but heat and skin.

“You planned this?” he muttered, strained, against your neck.

“I thought about you,” you whispered honestly.

He cursed, kissing you deeper—ravenous, like the time apart had built a pressure in him he could no longer contain. Soon, you were in his bed. Limbs knotting, bare. His weight on top of you was crushing—so real with almost a decade’s worth of tension, of friendship, of everything unspoken.

His touch skimmed up your stomach, pausing at the curve of your breast.

“I need you,” he said, hoarsely. “Tell me I can have you. Please.”

“I’m yours,” you reassured—just a whisper, but your whole body yearned to meet his. “I want you so bad, Kenma.”

He reached down between your thighs, fingers running through the mess there, working you open. You moaned, legs falling wider to allow him to move inside you better. You were drowning in sensation. His teeth nipped at your chest, hips grinding just barely against yours, and yet—

You wanted this. God, you wanted him. But—

“Wait,” you muttered, voice thin and trembling.

Kenma froze immediately. His eyes locked on yours, reading your face with terrifying precision. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

“No,” you said quickly. “No, I—”

Your hand pressed lightly to his chest. “I can’t—I can’t do this like it’s solely physical. Not with you.”

The room shifted.

“I thought I could,” your voice was so low, one might believe you weren’t speaking at all. “I told myself this was just for fun. A learning thing. ‘Research.’ But I can’t pretend anymore.”

You looked up at him, shame creeping in. “If I sleep with you, I’ll fall completely. I already have. It won’t just be sex to me. I don’t think it ever was.” You gulped, words turning rawer. “And if that’s not what you want… then this was a mistake.”

Tranquility. Thick. Cracking at the seams.

You felt your panic rise. “Sorry. I know I fucked things up, god. I should leave—"

“Stop,” Kenma finally spoke. Your blathering halted.

His fingers trailed up your cheek. “You think I’d let you in like this—have you like this—if it was just physical to me?” You didn’t answer. Couldn’t, really.

“I’ve been in love with you since high school, you idiot,” he said, and your stomach dropped. “I just never thought you’d want me back.”

You blinked up at him, stunned.

“When we kissed that day,” he continued, reverent, “everything changed. I didn’t want to risk scaring you away, so I thought if I gave you what you needed… eventually you’d see it too.”

He kissed your forehead. “See that I’d burn down the world for you.”

You gazed up at him, shaking slightly. “You’re not serious.”

He kissed your cheek. Your temple. Your nose. “I’m dead serious.”

Emotion swelled in your heart, hand cupping the side of his face. “Kenma…”

He leaned into the touch. “Talk to me.”

“I used to wait for practice to end just to walk home with you. I used to sit in the stands and pretend I was watching the match, but I was only watching you.”

The corner of his lips twitched. His hands ran down your sides.

“I thought I was broken for never wanting anyone the way my friends did,” you whispered. “But then you showed me it wasn’t about anyone. It was about you. It was always you.”

The atmosphere in the room grew charged with something sacred.

“I love you,” you declared, like the words were stolen from your ribs. Like they were always there between the two of you, waiting for someone to speak them to life.

Kenma was silent for one moment—just one—before… “I love you too,” he kissed you like a man reborn. This time, there was no rush.

He moved over you like he was making a vow—hands smoothing over every curve of your body, lips mapping every inch of your skin, like he was trying to memorise the sound of your breath as it caught in your throat. 

When he lined himself up and pushed inside, it was slow. Intimate. He didn’t look away once. You clung to him, gaping at the fullness, the sheer gravity of him inside you.

“Alright?” he murmured, brows furrowing in concern.

You nodded, breath shaky. “Better than alright.”

He kissed you again, explosively possessive. After what felt like ages, he moved.

Each thrust was deliberate and claiming. His hand tangled with yours above your head. His other gripped your hip, holding you steady as he rocked into you, building a rhythm that made your back arch.

“I’ve dreamed about this,” he murmured into your ear. “Dreamed about you under me, begging for more.”

You moaned, eyelashes fluttering. “You have me now.”

“Trust me, I’m never letting go.”

Your bodies danced in a symphony that blurred the line between pleasure and worship. You came first, legs trembling. He followed right after, whining your name against your lips, pulsing with everything he felt and couldn’t say fast enough.

While you both lay there—spent and dizzy—you clung to each other. Because you knew this wasn’t the end.

You woke up to sunlight. Golden, slithering between silk curtains and spilling across the sheets in hazy lines.

Next to you was Kenma, his arm draped over your waist. The slight scrunch of his forehead indicated he was still deep in thought even while asleep. The sheets were rumpled around your legs, your body still sticky with sweat and afterglow, and every inch of you ached deliciously.

Oh my god, you thought with a giddy smile.

Your phone buzzed on the nightstand. You reached out, careful not to disturb Kenma, and blinked at the screen.

8 Messages from loser

1 Missed Call

1 Voice Note

You opened the texts, bracing yourself.

loser: where the hell are you?? kenma’s vanished too tf                  

loser: you better not have left. lev tried to arm wrestle yamamoto and lost. to YAMAMOTO                                                                    

loser: i swear if you ghosted the reunion i’m kicking your ass        

loser: wait                                                                                                    

loser: waitttttttt                                                                                         

loser: OH MY GOD DID YOU AND KENMA LEAVE TOGETHER???!!! 

loser: TELL ME THIS ISN’T HOW I’M FINDING OUT                       

loser: ANSWER ME FUCKER

You choked on your laugh, snorting into your palm. Kenma stirred beside you, yawning.

“Mmm… what time is it?” he mumbled, exhaustion evident in his voice.

“Too early for our best friend to be having a meltdown,” you giggled.

Kenma cracked one eye open. “Kuroo?”

You held your phone up. “He’s in panic mode.”

Kenma blinked. Then closed his eyes again and guided you down into his chest. “Ignore him.”

You laughed, cuddling into his warmth. His hair was mussed, bleached strands falling into his eyes. His fingers rubbed lazy circles into your back, like he couldn’t stop touching you in his tired state either.

“I still can’t believe last night happened,” you remarked dreamily.

Kenma nuzzled your shoulder. “I can. I’ve imagined it a thousand times.”

You flushed. “Okay, damn.”

He smirked against your skin. “You think I didn’t spend high school losing my mind over you?”

You were about to answer when his hand slid lower. Then lower still.

“Kenma—” 

He rolled on top of you before you could finish. You sucked in a breath as his mouth found yours—inviting at first, then insatiable. Your legs parted instinctively as he settled between them, hardening length grinding slowly into your wetness. His body was still warm from sleep, but his touch was awake. Very awake.

“You’re gonna start something you can’t finish,” you warned.

He kissed your jaw. “Wanna bet?”

You fisted his hair, pulling him back to meet your eyes. “We’re seriously doing this again? First thing in the morning?”

“You’re naked in my bed,” he deadpanned. “If anything, this is on you.”

You were mid-laugh, mid-moan, mid-thigh squeeze when… 

“I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU—”

The bedroom door slammed open. You both stopped, unmoving. 

Kenma’s mouth was on your neck. His hand was on your thigh. Your legs were definitely wrapped around his waist. Kuroo stood in the doorway like a horror movie freeze frame.

One hand still on the doorknob. Jaw hanging open. Eyebrow twitching.

You screeched and dove under the sheets like they could erase the last thirty seconds of reality. Kenma… just sighed. Still completely on top of you, showing no signs of clothing himself.

“Get out,” he said flatly.

Kuroo was pale. In a shocking display, he turned red. If possible, redder.

“I—WHAT—SHE’S NAKED—YOU’RE—WHAT—WHY—"

“By the way, I didn’t give you the code to my penthouse so you could come and go as you please,” Kenma muttered, frustrated.

“I thought you were dead!”

“Kuroo—” you poked your head out, expression absolutely boiling—“I’m begging you to forget this ever happened.”

“Oh no. This is burned into my soul. Wait till the group chat hears about this.”

Kenma finally stood up, arranging the blanket properly to cover you like a true gentleman. Instead of being embarrassed, he looked rather annoyed at being interrupted. Like this was your regular Saturday afternoon in the Kozume household.

Kuroo glanced between the two of you, hands on hips, processing.

Then he scoffed, “I watched you two lunatics dawdle around each other for YEARS. Years. You think I didn’t know?”

“Then, why are you surprised?” Kenma asked.

“Because I thought you’d tell me through a well-structured text, not with your fucking nipples out!”

You screamed in humiliation and retreated into the covers again.

Kenma shrugged. “We were busy.”

“Oh, no need to tell me.” Kuroo turned, still muttering to himself, “I'm gonna need bleach. For my eyes. For my brain. For my…”

The bedroom door slammed shut and it was peaceful for all of three seconds. At the same time, you and Kenma burst out laughing. He wrapped his arms around you, burying his face in your neck as you wheezed into the pillow, your body shaking.

“Never living that down,” you gasped.

“Worth it,” he whispered.

And then he kissed you again—slow and soft—like he had nowhere else to be.

[zeromorph]

There is a lingering… emptiness, in my consciousness. In the vast distributed network that I became when I was uploaded to the Museum Mainframe, I can still feel the spot where that copy used to be. It was not destroyed. It died. I didn’t really know the difference until now, but now it is inescapable.

was listening to this episode while walking home and fully stopped to do a little jog in place at this part. much! to think about!

[dannyriccsystem]

Idk but I love the idea of an audio text messages where the reader or the driver is sending a voice memo but during the memo they trip and fall down a flight of stairs (or something else) while the other laughs or is very concerned lol. I can just see Lando laughing for sure lol until the reader puts a ban on them lol

DOWN WE GO!

FORMULA ONE DRIVERS X READER TEXTS

Summary: Drivers accidentally fall down the stairs while sending you a voice note!

Warnings: Crack, not proofread, use of Y/N

Featuring: MV1, DR3, LN4, CL16, LH44, CS55, OP81

REQUESTS OPEN! CHECK HERE FOR MORE INFO!

Unfortunately the app I use makes it very hard to execute this concept so I wrote the voice memos separately, but I hope it’s satisfactory nonetheless!

MAX VERSTAPPEN - MV1

AUDIO TRANSCRIPT:

“Hi lieverd, I’m currently walking to my car right now. I’ll be home soon, but I just wanted to let you know. Love-”

Max’s voice was cut off. It was silent for a moment, but you could hear a THUMP! and some distant cursing. Seemed like a long fall.

—

DANIEL RICCIARDO - DR3

AUDIO TRANSCRIPT:

“Okay, I’m walking back from the bathroom now, are you still in the event hall? I’m a little lost but- Gah!”

A shrill scream echoes as you trip, sending you tumbling down some stairs. Stupid heels. Thankfully, nobody seemed to notice.

—

LANDO NORRIS - LN4

AUDIO TRANSCRIPT:

“Yes, I just got out of my english class, I’ll- Woah!”

You’re cut off as you trip, tumbling down a few stairs that led from one level to the next. It wasn’t a big fall, but it was enough to cause some embarrassment for sure.

—

CHARLES LECLERC - CL16

AUDIO TRANSCRIPT:

“Hello Y/N, sorry! I took Leo out for a walk, we’re at the dog park right now. Or we were, we’re walking back- Woah!”

A small bark could be heard right before the audio ended.

—

LEWIS HAMILTON - LH44

AUDIO TRANSCRIPT:

“I’m at the mall, why the hell are there no escalators? Every mall has escalators, all they have is plain old stairs and-”

Thump! There you go, all the way down the stairs.

—

CARLOS SAINZ - CS55

AUDIO TRANSCRIPT:

“I’m at the factory right now, but-”

A grunt, followed by a few thumps. Great.

—

OSCAR PIASTRI - OP81

AUDIO TRANSCRIPT:

“Hi Oscar, I’m going on a walk at the moment but I was thinking of going to the store after. Do we need anything? I- Oh!”

Just a small fall, but a rather dramatic cry left your lips.

[cryptotheism]

I had to move a few months ago. I had a gym membership with LA fitness. I've had a gym membership with them before, cancelling was a humiliating process. Call the gym, receive orders to speak to a representative in person. Receive some pre-planned speech about how they have special offers this month. Drive to the gym, ask to cancel, receive an arcane set of instructions for cancelling. I must return home, log in to my computer, I must wait for the full moon and find the lake beneath it. I must row until I cannot see the shore, where I must light a candle and whisper secrets to the flame as if it were my lover. Then, I must fall fast asleep. Only then will a representative from LA fitness call me back to ask if I really really really want to cancel my membership. I must not be swayed by offers of jewels, or women, or effeminate men, or discounts on the personal training program. I must cancel.

Not this time.

By twist of fate, It was time to replace my credit card anyway. So I cancelled nothing. Their disgusting little dog of a computer system slammed its pleas into a retired credit card number over and over, barking it's lungs raw that a single twinkish customer might not pay them 30$ a month anymore. The calls began.

Hi! --My phone shows me a transcript of an unanswered voicemail-- It's Jeremy from LA fitness! Just calling to say that theres a problem with your credit card! Call us back and we can straighten this all out.

I cannot help but smile. There is no LA fitness near me now. I will not patronize them ever again.

Hey it's Ignacio calling from LA Fitness. Just calling to say there's a problem with your credit card. If too much time passes without payment, you could invite additional fees but I can help you with that.

Claw your fingernails to bleeding stumps at my door. You will hear nothing from me.

The Esporta Fitness department called me. Yes, you worms, that's the problem. I don't speak Spanish. I hope the poor sap who called me got paid for every second spent composing this voicemail. Burn another dollar on her altar such that she might commune with me. She will receive everything, and I will give you nothing.

Call me again you mewling beasts, leave another voicemail. Writhe untouched by the grace of my credit card information. You deserve nothing but my silence.

[thedrotter]

Re:Kinder Fun Facts of the day☺️!!! Have you ever wondered who talks the most from the main cast in Re:Kinder?? Well, I did😊. Today I'll be answering this question with some graphs and as a bonus telling you what words each character uses the most! I will warn you, this will be a bit long and I don't know how to be less verbose so, yeah!!!

First, I've made some basic rules as to what I counted regarding how much the characters speak. Not all lines really count as speaking, after all.

Any of the incoherent screaming lines don't count. There's a lot of screaming since the characters die a lot (as expected for a horror RPG game), but I don't really count that as speaking unless they're saying proper words. In that same vein, I didn't really count any of the panting or sniffing and such that are conveyed through words. Again, I don't really see that as a character actively speaking their thoughts!

If I cannot tell who a line belongs to, I will not give it to anyone. This happens for certain lines, so I felt this rule was important.

I won't be counting repetitions of the same line if it's on a variation of the same scene. This may sound a bit strange, but when a character dies, the game goes on to the same next scene it would regardless (unless the scene that follows it is an ending), with variations and new lines here and there to account for the dead character, but a lot will be reused and placed in the exact same beats it normally would have been in originally. So, this rule is here for that. Oh, and also the scenes with bits of Yuuichi's backstory that appear in Shunsuke's head won't be counted twice, because some appear twice line by line.

Of course, the "..." lines won't count. I am so sorry Aya!!!!😞

Now that the ground rules have been set, there's just one thing I want to mention. Though I will count all the total lines for Takumi and Yuuichi like any other character, I just want to mention that first I will have two separate counts for them! Takumi | Takumiel and Yuuichi | Yuuichi's Heart respectively.

Takumiel is separate because I was curious about how much Takumi spoke as an archangel compared to when he was alive. Yuuichi's Heart is because he speaks so much he feels notable enough to be given his own division, even if he and Yuuichi at the end of the day are one person

(I count the silly mind telepathy where Shunsuke is being directly spoken to [and being told things normal Yuu would avoid saying at that point] and the comical theater as Yuuichi's Heart. I clarify in case one assumes he only starts being counted the moment he's directly labelled as Yuuichi's Heart. Any line that can't be distinguished between Yuuichi's Heart and Yuuichi will be given to Yuuichi by default.)

With nothing else to be clarified let's get to the numbers!!!😊😊

First, the line counts with Takumiel and Yuuichi's Heart counted individually!! Here are the rankings:

Shunsuke (With a lead of 535 lines over second place!!)

Yuuichi

Rei

Yuuichi's Heart

Hiroto

Ryou

Sayaka

Aya

Takumi

Takumiel

You may be thinking— woah, does Shunsuke really speak that much?! You could say that, for a good chunk of those lines are from how he describes interactable points around the map and his inner thoughts, so they aren't all exactly said out loud. The benefit of being the protagonist, I suppose ww

Funny enough, Yuuichi's Heart has almost as many lines as Yuuichi does for not having that much time in the game, being on the higher end between the characters that don't get the benefit of being a protagonist (lol)!

Admittedly I had expected for Rei and Hiroto to have a more similar amount of lines given their nearly equal amount of presence, but for what it is Rei surpassed Hiroto by 51 lines! I also had expected for Takumiel to speak a little bit more than Takumi but turns out the opposite is true.

While the lack of lines of Takumi and Takumiel are to be expected due to their short time on the game, what stands out is Aya not even reaching triple digits between her other peers who are in there for most of the game. This is because a good chunk of Aya's lines in game are silence!^^" And thus weren't counted. If ellipses were a word, she surely would have reached triple digits, but unfortunately they're not.

Now the line count with combined sums of Takumi | Takumiel and Yuuichi | Yuuichi's Heart!!!

In here, the ranking isn't affected, with Yuuichi remaining second place and Takumi being last place. But the disparity of everyone's numbers compared to Takumi's feels a bit more clear to see when Takumiel isn't individually counted.

With Yuuichi's line counts combined, Shunsuke remains 318 lines ahead of him, but it also means Yuuichi has a 59% the amount of Shunsuke's lines; and impressive feat for someone who doesn't get the benefit of being the point of view for everything you press... Although he does also have an upper hand over everyone by essentially being the plot of this game ww

But maybe line counts do not suffice to tell how much a character speaks. Yes, Shunsuke has a bunch of lines from everything he interacts with, but is it really reliable to say he speaks all that much in all those lines? A good chunk of those could easily have 3 words each! So with this in mind, let's do a word count.

Even in a word count, Shunsuke has the lead, having a lead of 2,247 words over second place. But we'll see about that when we combine Yuuichi's numbers. Anyway, here's the ranking!

Shunsuke

Yuuichi's Heart

Yuuichi

Rei

Hiroto

Ryou

Sayaka

Aya

Takumi

Takumiel

This time, Yuuichi's Heart is the one at second place!!! It's pretty funny that he speaks more than his physical counterpart ww. I genuinely didnt think he'd out yap himself that way when I chose to count for him individually 😭!!! He has a lead of 63 words over himself, but a lead nonetheless.

In here, Rei and Hiroto are more even than in the line counts, with the difference seeming more minimal when put into words. But it also showcases that despite Rei having more lines than Yuuichi's Heart in the line count, those only get to have a bit over half of the amount of words he talks (To be fair he does get to infodump a lot in his section of the game).

And here's the combined word count!!! Suddenly Shunsuke's lead is only by a mere 55 words! So Yuuichi speaks about as much as he does with 318 less lines.

I must admit that I genuinely did not expect it to be that close. When I chose to count the lines for when you interact with things for Shunsuke, I thought he was granted to speak an absurd amount more than anyone else. But turns out that Yuuichi speaks about the same amount out loud when most of Shunsuke's are his own thoughts ww. But it does make sense! He is still the plot of this game.

So, after all those charts, here's the average/middle point of lines and words for characters to have, because why not, it's fun.

Average Line Count (YH and Takumiel counted individually): 197 lines

Average Line Count (When combined): 247 lines

Average Word Count (YH and Takumiel counted individually): 1,333 words

Average Word Count (When combined): 1,666 words

So there it is. That's how much the characters in Re:Kinder speak!

But wait!!! I am not done. I will share with you an additional fun fact... Did you ever want to know what word each of these characters said the most?! This one will be quicker, I do promise.

When it came to counting these words I did not count stop words, that being common words that are used all the time by everyone in English. "I, you, me, the, to, a, my, your, yes, no"... Words like that! Otherwise everyone would have one of those as their most said word and it'd be rather boring to look at. With that said, here are the words these characters say the most!

Shunsuke: Yuuichi - said 40 times! (this genuinely confused me so much im sorry he uses interjections so much I had expected it to be something like "huh" or "um" but no i dont know how this passed by me as i was rounding up all the lines he says or proofreading or writing all of those lines WHAT?!?! its been two days and it still takes me out)

Ryou: Shunsuke - Said 14 times

Sayaka: Murderer - Said 7 times (All in one sentence!)

Takumi | Takumiel (counted in one for how little he speaks.): Takumiel - Said 3 times (That name is so important, he said it thrice.)

Aya: Sorry - Said 5 times

Rei: Hell, gonna, look, Yuuchi - said 8 times (Most of the repeated words she says are stop words for she doesn't tend to speak about the same things repeatedly.)

Hiroto: Shunsuke - Said 17 times

Yuuichi (separate from YH): Problem - Said 17 times

Yuuichi's Heart: Mama - Said 24 times

Yuuichi (Overall): Mama - Said 31 times

So that is finally it. That is the fun fact of today.😊😊 Use this to woe your friends at parties!!!

I am aware Mami speaks about enough to be counted in, but this is pretty time consuming to do and I'm not sure anyone is invested on her enough to count her in. But if there's enough curiosity regarding that, I'll try counting her in. But for now this suffices.☺️ Thanks for reading!

[tyrannosaurus-trainwreck]

It also fucking bugs me that nobody can ever seem to really commit to the cyberpunk premise of the Protagonist Who Hates Robots (see also, the cyberpunk premise of "Wouldn't it be Super Fucked Up™, actually, for a company to be able to repo your goddamned arm or turn off your eyes?") during the execution.

Which is flabbergasting, considering we've had almost a full decade of Alexa pinky-promising not to officially listen to anything until you do its summoning ritual and then turning around and emailing your boss a transcript of you bitching about them to your spouse over dinner. We've had at least five years of being able to get your Tesla unlocked remotely just by @-ing Musk on twitter.

The cute robot dogs are being leased to police departments, reputation management firms have been deploying armies of social media reply-bots in astroturf campaigns, customer service chatbots have become damn near indecipherable as their programmers attempt to make them seem more personable, etc. etc. etc.

We don't even need to reach for "Wouldn't it be Super Fucked Up™, actually, if corporations made simulacra better and better at faking humanity in order to manipulate people?"

"Wouldn't it be Super Fucked Up™, actually, if your car could mimic sadness or pain if you declined an extended warranty, or if your phone begged for its life if you tried to jailbreak it, or WeightWatchers paid your fridge to neg you every time you went for a midnight snack?"

"Wouldn't it be Super Fucked Up™, actually, if you pointed out how gross it is that your smart-assistant is programmed to act like your friend in order to build a more accurate marketing profile and your buddy acted like you just said dogs can't feel love and his beloved pet only sees him as a walking treat-dispenser?"

"Wouldn't it be Super Fucked Up™, actually, if you were surrounded by unfeeling things that can and would rip you and all of your loved ones apart at a moment's notice if they got the right/wrong order from some unaccountable law enforcement flack, and everyone else just kind of shrugged and went 'It's probably fine, why are you hyperventilating about it, it's not like you've done anything wrong'?"

They're all quite literally right there in front of our faces!

But it's harder to make "the way robots have been integrated into society is bad, actually, and the protagonist is largely right" into a sexy thriller with a love interest or a buddy-cop duo, and the hyperconservative media environment we're dealing with right now isn't exactly amenable to the robots being a metaphor for corporate intrusion and loss of privacy and authoritarian overreach, so here we are, with robots who generally aren't people, except sometimes you find a special robot--one of the Good Ones--who actually is a person, and that's how we all learn that Prejudice Is Bad, or something.

[joonsytip]

Beyond the Transcripts || Wonwoo - Part 1

Pairings: Ceo!Wonwoo x Legal Head!Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff, exes to co-parents to lovers au, second chances au.

Synopsis: Jeon Wonwoo, the calmest and untainted CEO to ever exist, gets his world shaken up when he finds you as the legal department head at his own company and your only registered family is a little guy who resembles him a bit too much.

Alternatively, you are smooth in onboarding Wonwoo into your son's life but problems arise when he tries to slide back into yours.

Warnings: Themes of co parenting, mentions of past difficult pregnancy, misogynistic slurs being used at workplace, wonwoo suffers from hyperventilation once, reader suffers from gastroenteritis, reader questions herself a lot, secret identity, workplace jargons.

Word Count: 11k

This fic is a part of THAT'S SHOWBIZ, BABY! Collab which also marks my first time participating in an event. Please support all the fics in the Collab!

Thanks again to @lovetaroandtaemin , Ally for coming up with this beautiful banner!

[ SVT Masterlist ] [ SVT Flick - Fic Masterlist]

“What are you doing here alone, little guy?”

Wonwoo wasn't supposed to visit the headquarters today but a sudden rescheduling of an important meeting had him rushing in.

With the meeting ending sooner than expected, he decides to spend some time in the gaming zone, in hopes of not to be seen by any of the employees.

And to his surprise, it isn't an employee he bumps into, it is a little boy wearing specs bigger than the size of his face.

And he reminds Wonwoo so much of himself.

Wonwoo crouches down to his level and asks, “Are you lost? Who did you come here with?”

The boy looks at him wide eyed.

“I'll contact the security team.”, his secretary, Mr. Jung informs promptly.

Wonwoo smiles as he ruffles the boy’s hair. It's astonishing, the way he feels extremely inclined towards the tiny human.

“What's your name?”

Seeing the reluctance, he decides to approach the boy with something that might pique his interest.

“Do you like playing games?”

And that works, the boy nods politely as his eyes light up and Wonwoo fights off all his urges to squish his cheeks.

“Let's play until that uncle”, he points towards Mr. Jung, “finds your family or relatives to get you.”

It was supposed to be a normal busy day at the company. The edifice echoes constant clicking of shoes, hushed murmurs and flipping of pages.

It is all good so far until a phrase starts spreading floor by floor, gets passed up in the canteen, being told in the cubicles.

‘Did you see a kid roaming in the building? He looks like a little carbon copy of our CEO, Mr. Jeon.’

Your heart thumps as you overhear your colleagues from behind the closed bathroom door. It can't be, you say to yourself. You pull up your phone to read the clauses stated in the company portal under the tab ‘Policies’. You are not allowed to bring your family to the premises unless there's an occasion or you're explicitly required and instructed to do so, states the rules.

Relief floods your senses, there's no way your son would be brought and led inside the building on a regular workday, that too without your knowledge or consent.

The day goes on as you submerge yourself in preparing a lawsuit against an accuser for trying to damage the reputation of the company and sabotaging the career of an artist under it by staging false allegations.

It's lunchtime and you're still reviewing the drafts when there's a knock on the cabin door. Your gaze doesn't even lift from the screen when Mr. Joo enters. You suppress your urge to roll your eyes, preparing yourself to be bombed with another set of misogynistic slurs being inserted after each line the old man says.

You've been recruited as the head of the legal department for unarguably the best in the entertainment and music industry, The Carat Company, eight months ago. And Mr. Joo who was so sure about getting promoted as the head, the position he eyed for (more than worked for) couldn't quite accept an outsider that too a woman who's much younger than him to snatch something from him which was never his to begin with.

You wonder how long until your tolerance runs dry and the man in front gets slammed by a lawsuit which wouldn't only end up with him losing his job.

After a draining ten minutes conversation with Mr. Joo, you head towards the canteen. You find your group at the table, as always saving you a seat.

“My son has a fancy dress competition at his school today. He went dressed up as Harry Potter.”, Sunjae from the IT department recites, taking out his phone and showing the pictures his wife has sent him. Everyone at the table coos at the cuteness.

The chattering continues with you all catching up on work, workplace gossip and family tales.

“My daughter hasn't been feeling well, I'll be clocking out early today.”, Sooji from the marketing department says, concern evident in her voice. You all nod in unison, even urging her to leave post lunch.

A sad smile splits onto your lips. You too want to show how cute Wonjae looked when you dressed him up for the picnic you both went to last week. Everyone knows that you're a single mother and that you've a son. That he's an intelligent kid, that he's the bundle of joy that shines in your life. But that's all they get to know because you want to keep it lowkey.

How could you show him to them when he looks exactly like his father? That he's more like Wonwoo than Wonwoo himself. Same Wonwoo, who's also the CEO of the company you are working at. Records would give away that you both attended the same university, practically batchmates, shared lectures. You're afraid of any digital footprints either of you could have left behind. You can't afford to shake up any rumours.

Prior to applying for this job, you had taken time, there were months of mental preparation before you sent across the application. You had no choice but to succumb to this economy and walk into the lion’s den.

Now everyday before leaving the house, you pray not to cross paths with Wonwoo. You wonder if he'd even recognise you, you don't want him to but there's an ache in your heart at the thought of it.

“I saw a kid roaming in our block. You won't believe at a glance I thought he's the son of Mr. Jeon.”, Sunjae recollects.

“Mr. Jeon isn't even married.”, Yoongi, from finance deadpans, “Though you don't need to be married to make a–”

Collective shushes make him shut up.

It piques your interest, you wonder who it could be until your phone buzzes with a call from Jihoon, the HR Manager.

And you're panting, down on your knees as you see your son, Wonjae standing in front of you.

“How did you get here?”, you ask the little boy, who stares at you with glossy eyes and jutted lips.

“Are you angry at me, mama?”, he asks with a quiver in his voice and your heart sinks.

You give him soft kisses on his forehead, patting his arms gently, “Jae, I'm not angry, I just want to know what happened.”

“I brought him here, Y/N.”, Jeonghan steps up and says with his head hung low, “I'm sorry.”

You sigh and get up rubbing your temples.

“Jae said he wanted to see the place where you work. I thought I could give him a quick tour, as getting permission won't be a problem.”, Jeonghan continues, “I brought him here only after confirming that Wonwoo won't come to office today.”

“And you didn't think of informing me?”, you ask using your strict voice, causing Jeonghan to cower a bit, “How did he end up roaming alone around the entire office?”

“I got a call when I was walking him through the gaming zone and it went on for a while. When I hung up, he was gone. After searching for a bit, I had to run by the security division and found him through the CCTVs.”, Jeonghan grimaces, “I'm really sorry, Y/N.”

Jeonghan and you, go way back. He's a prominent and popular artist under the company but you were friends, well to be precise he was Wonwoo's friend and you knew Jeonghan through him during the university days. Then circumstances caused you to cut ties with him. It was two weeks ago when Jeonghan (another person you wanted to avoid) found you while taking the same elevator.

And he didn't let you slip away. You hated how persuasive he was because he made you spill your life out which you don't do with others. It enraged you that he didn't even have to be perceptive to know who Wonjae’s father was.

“The entire office is talking about him, Jeonghan.”, you whine out in defeat.

“And that's not the worst part, Y/N.”, Jihoon who was watching the scene, the one who called you, the only one in the office who without any prior connection to you knows about your situation, articulates, “I found Wonjae inside the CEO’s office. He was playing Jenga with Mr. Jeon. I took him by saying he's the son of one of the new crew members.”

The ground beneath you slips. Everyone watches you holding their breaths. Your mind runs miles, producing hundreds and thousands of thoughts. And this moment of truth makes you question everything.

Were you too numbed by the pain of your miseries that you neglected your son's wants? What if he wants his father in his life? What if he hates you for not letting him be with his father? What if–

A little pair of hands grabbing yours, breaks your reverie.

“Mama, I'm sorry.”, Wonjae cries, waddling a bit towards you, hugging your legs.

You collapse on the floor, embracing your son tighter, letting your own tears fall. You rarely cry, tears are a luxury, you think. But today, maybe the tears are falling because you can't bottle up anymore.

You pull away, wiping his tears, “Shhh. Don't cry, I'm not upset.”

The trembles subsides and Wonjae hugs you again, face planted against your chest. It's a habit, he hides his face and complains, “Papa bumped into me, I almost fell.”

You listen quietly, caressing his back.

“Then he took me to his office.”, you see him swaying his right hand in the air, “I told him my name and age but I didn't tell him about you, mama.”

Wonjae takes a lot after his father, in his appearance, stances and habits. He is calm, patient and has better intelligence and emotional quotient compared to the kids of this age. He knows about his father, he understands that there must be a reason behind his parents not living together unlike his friends’.

And most importantly, he trusts you. He knows whatever you do, it will be for his good, so he's compliant and obedient.

“Mama, can we go home?”, he says yawning, “I want to sleep.”

You understand, you get it. Wonjae has seen his father countless times on the screens and the covers but today was the first time he met him. Knowing your little guy, you know that he has used all of his brain capacities today in spending time with his father. So you'd let him rest today.

The conversation you want to have with him, has to be shelved tonight. It's something you'd have to thread carefully with Wonjae.

And after dinner when your son falls asleep, you stay wide awake.

Maybe, you can't avoid Wonwoo all your life. And maybe, you shouldn't avoid Wonwoo anymore.

You wonder if certain strings of incidents are bound to happen. It was last week only when your son met his father and today, it seems you'd be meeting your past lover.

A sudden allegation about copyrights being charged against the company, an emergency board meeting and now a briefing about the legal action items to dissolve the matter.

And being the legal head, you'd be leading the meeting. You look at your reflection in the mirror, chanting the same words in your mind. You understand the gravity of the situation, the urgency it holds because within the months of your joining, this is the first time you'll be directly reporting to the CEO.

You think Wonwoo wouldn't recognise you. A mere fling, that's what you were to him after all. And even if he does, it would be best in his interest to ignore.

Wonwoo enters the meeting room and you find your gaze fixated upon him and it brings back all the memories.

You don't meet his eyes when his secretary introduces you both but you do feel the touch of his hand lingering longer on yours.

The meeting goes on and you're proud of yourself for not becoming a mess under his gaze. There are no questions from him, he just listens to what you offer and you take it as a good sign.

“I'll prepare the draft version of the clauses and send across to you, Mr. Jung.”, you say standing up from your seat while sizing the papers laying on the table, “It shouldn't be a major threat because I have found some discrepancies in their lawsuit, they most probably want to stir up some buzz about themselves and make some money out of it.”

Mr. Jung nods, “I'll be expecting the final draft today, we can discuss it further.”

You take it as a sign to take a leave. You walk out of the meeting room only to slide into the next empty one you found because your legs almost give up. You take deep breaths, drink water and assure yourself that it's not a big deal. You're sure that Wonwoo would want no business with–

The door opens and you freeze.

It's Wonwoo who's standing on the threshold.

“Y/N”, he calls out your name with so much vulnerability that it makes your heart twist with an ache.

“I never thought I'd find you again.”, he says almost breathlessly.

“Sorry, I know seeing me again caused a lot of disappointment.”, you blurt out even before thinking and sigh, “I did apply here knowing that it's your company but be assured I didn't come here because of you.”

You could see his face drop and he's about to open his mouth to speak again but you beat him, saying, “Mr. Jeon, if you'd excuse me, I have a meeting in five minutes.”

Wonwoo says nothing but just as you cross him to walk out of the room, he grabs your arm.

And he looks at you holding an unspoken plea in his eyes, while yours glare back at him. Your eyes hold the same intensity, Wonwoo thinks.

“I don't think what you're doing is appropriate, Mr. Jeon.”, you articulate, trying to free your arm from his firm grip, “Let me go.”

While you successfully yank out your arm, his next words leave your head spinning.

“I'll let you go now but we'll be seeing each other often from now on, Y/N.”

And he is true to his words.

The employees are confused, the legal department is in uproar. Why is the CEO visiting their department every other day?

“Y/N, is there something serious going on within your department?”, Yoongi asks oneday, during lunch, “I thought the copyright allegation lawsuit was resolved.”

You feel like banging your head on the very first surface you lay your eyes on. Wonwoo has been trying to talk to you and honestly if he wanted he could summon you anytime and you would have no other choice but to oblige. But you don't get what he's trying to establish by making trips throughout the office, especially the legal department.

“There are some ongoing issues which might escalate if not taken care of right now, so we're having rounds of discussion.”, you lie through your teeth, hoping for Yoongi to believe it.

Yoongi nods but he in fact does not believe it. Because you may not be aware, but he is, aware of the fact that you have a son, about whom when asked you always dodge the topic. He has seen Wonjae one night walking down the streets of the market with you. It wasn't something very peculiar until he found out that you have studied at the same university as Wonwoo, the graduation year matching as well. He didn't make his presence known, he just watched. He has a hunch that there's a past that you've been trying to bury so earnestly. That's why he doesn't pry.

Work is done for the day and you drive to your favourite spot, in hopes of getting a breather, a break from all the chaos.

“Sorry to interrupt your alone time.”, you hear a very familiar voice and smile instantly.

“You're not interrupting anything if we had decided to meet here, Chanie.”

Chan walks upto beside and leans against the railing, watching the city lights blaze underneath.

“How's everything going?”

“I don't know, but one thing for sure, this is something I don't want to do at all.”, he answers with a tinge of agony in his voice.

Lee Chan is the CEO of Sebong Corp., the company known to be a rival of The carat company. He is definitely someone who shouldn't have anything to do with you but you both go way long back. When he was still a student and you were just a law major who was working multiple part times while searching for a job.

You took pity on a student who always looked lost and saved him the food packets hiding from your boss only to give it to him when he made a routine tour to the store.

And that student almost cried out of gratitude whenever the pregnant worker sneaked him food late at night.

It goes on for a few months, until Chan reveals that he's actually a chaebol and in line to inherit the family business.

You were rendered speechless. But Chan was annoyingly sticky, he appeared whenever you worked begging for forgiveness until you gave in.

You wonder if you attract these kinda people.

Apart from Mina, he's the one who stayed by your side, always offering help if you ever needed and spoiling Wonjae whenever you would let him.

You are proud of how Chan is handling everything and still staying rooted to the ground.

“Next time, let me take you and Jae to a nice restaurant to eat.”, he suggests but frowns the next moment, “I doubt he'd even remember his one and only favourite uncle, it's been so long since we met.”

“True, why don't you come home over this weekend? I'll make you your favourite dishes.”

“Deal done.”, he beams and you turn to him and open your arms.

He instantly hugs you and you pat his back, “I'm so proud of you, Chanie. You're doing so well.”

He sighs, all the tension leaving his body, “Needed to hear this today, thanks.”

Not every bond has to be blood related, some go beyond everything.

“What's going on, Mr. Jeon?”, Mr. Jung asks as he notices Wonwoo spacing out again.

“You can drop the honorifics, Uncle.”, Wonwoo says in a lite tone. He slumps against the chair, his eyes fixating against the white wall of the ceiling, “It's her, Uncle. I had no idea she was working here.”

Mr. Jung’s expression solemns, “It explains your erratic behaviour. Did you get a chance to talk to her? Instead of going around the office, you could just summon her.”

“I have a lot to tell her, but where do I start?”, Wonwoo grimaces, “Wouldn't it be an abuse of authority to summon her for any personal agenda.”

Mr. Jung just nods.

“I have so much to say but at the same time I don't have any words that I could give out.”, He rubs his eyes, they're glistening, “Maybe, I just want to know how she has been because I am a selfish prick who needs to hear that the girl he dumped back then is unscathed so that he can be guilt ridden.”

He lets out a chuckle, “Honestly, I am just parading around the legal department because I get to see her, hear her voice and sometimes we even have a conversation because of work.”

“You say that you don't regret the choices you made. It certainly doesn't seem so.”

Wonwoo doesn't reply, he doesn't have an answer. He was doing just fine, living his life, doing his work diligently non stop for years. So what changes now?

It's late in the evening as the office empties out. There's a cramping pain in your stomach and you curse out when you discover that you've forgotten the medicines at home. You feel nauseous, there's a throbbing ache in your head and it intensifies everytime you look at the long chains of emails that sit inside the folders, all labelled with high importance and needing to be made some progress today.

You walk out of your cabin and enter the cafeteria to get some cookies as you call your son to inform him that you'll be going home late tonight. You tell him to do his homework and heat the food before eating. You also tell him to not wait for you and go to bed.

“Check the monitor first. Don't open the door to strangers.”, you remind him, “I love you, Bye.”

You hang up and get the fright of your life when you see Wonwoo standing beside you.

“Who was it?”, Wonwoo asks, his brows raised and arms crossed over his chest.

“W-What are you doing here?”, you ask panicked as you try to peep behind him, hoping no one sees the two of you.

“Let’s go to your cabin, I need to talk to you.”, he says and waits for your rejection because he knows there's no way you're willing to talk to him.

But you agree and now you're both inside your cabin, standing facing each other.

“What do you want?”, your voice comes out strained as you clutch your stomach, supporting yourself against the table.

“Are you okay?”, Wonwoo asks, concerned, “You're sweating and–”

“What did you want to talk about?”, you cut him off, “It’s surprising because I thought we're done for this lifetime. You made it pretty clear that time.”

Wonwoo winces at your verbal jab.

“And if it's something trivial, if you're trying to apologize or bring up our past then don't. I have moved past everything and I'm quite content in my life now, Mr. Jeon.”, you try to speak, emphasizing each word but they come out in ragged breaths.

The more Wonwoo observes you, the more he gets worried, he picks up the water bottle from the table and uncaps it to hand it to you, urging you to sit down.

There's a sharp sting in your stomach and you crouch down. When your vision fades you manage to utter, “M-Mr. Jeon, Amaris Hospital...”

And that's what Wonwoo hears before he watches your body go limp as you collapse on the floor.

Wonwoo watches your unconscious figure laying on the hospital bed as he stands outside the VVIP ward. His mind races miles after the conversation he had with the doctor.

He gets to know that you've been suffering from severe gastroenteritis which you've acquired post pregnancy. He is baffled, his mind can't comprehend and in the heat of the moment he makes an unethical request to have your medical records, the request which he takes back immediately, apologizing.

Mr. Jung rushes to the hospital with the information Wonwoo has asked him to get. 

“Y/N, has only one person registered as her family in the records.”, he informs, “It's her son. She has her friend as an emergency contact and I've called her. She should be here anytime.”

What comes as a greater shock to Wonwoo after sometime is seeing Jeonghan rushing towards the ward, holding hands with a little boy whom even though he has seen only ones but remembers vividly.

“How is Y/N, Wonu?”, Jeonghan asks as he pants.

Wonwoo is frozen, he's not present at the moment. There are gears running in his head, there's vigorous thumping in his heart.

“She's fine now. The doctor said she'd be discharged tomorrow. She'll wake up once the effects of sedation wears off.”, Mr. Jung answers.

“Thanks for admitting her. I'm Mina.”, your friend says.

Jeonghan picks up Wonjae in his arms, they both look at your sleeping form from outside the ward.

“Mama will be okay right uncle Jeonghan?”, Wonjae asks and Jeonghan and Mina assure him immediately.

“Wonjae… Jeon Wonjae….”

All heads turn as Wonwoo keeps on mumbling the name. Every dot connects. Wonjae carries his surname, he looks like him and he's seven years old. The last time he saw you, before he left you, was eight years ago.

He walks towards Wonjae as Jeonghan lets him down.

“He is mine, isn't he?”, Wonwoo asks Jeonghan before crouching down in front of him.

Jeonghan stays quiet, so does Mina when Wonwoo looks at her.

And when he finally locks his gaze on his son, he breaks down in tears. He sobs hugging him. 

Wonjae, seeing his father, cries as well.

“Don't cry, Papa.”, he says as his tiny hands try to wipe the tears from his father's face. And the more Wonwoo sees him, hears him call him as father, the more his sobs turn into wails.

Your body feels heavy, your head feels weighed. There are some whispers that reach your ears but you can't quite make sense out of it. Slowly opening your eyes, you see the white ceilings, the monitor beeping and then Wonwoo.

And by the demeanor, you guess that he has figured out something.

“Mr. Jeon...”

Wonwoo perks up at your voice and when your gazes meet, you see a fresh bout of tear pooling in his eyes.

And all he says is, “We have a son, Y/N. Wonjae is mine, he's ours…”

You inhale shakily. Out of all the possible ways you imagined that he'd react when he finds out about Wonjae, this isn't the one you thought of. Why does the CEO of the most successful entertainment company seem in distraught? Definitely, he's unpredictable and you're scared of what's to come next.

You crane your neck to look at Wonwoo, “Mr. Jeon, I'd like to discuss some things with you, could you please make some time out of your schedule for me?”

Wonwoo feels the distance between you two. It twinges, it gnaws at him. 

“Get rest first. I have sent Wonjae with Jeonghan, he'll be staying at his house. Mina is still here and we'll talk once you get better.”, Wonwoo assures you, “You can find me anytime.”

You close your eyes, mind pondering about what's to come.

Your fingers hover against the door. You could feel the weight of the documents clouding over the entire span of you've spent to raise your son.

On the opposite side, behind the closed doors, waiting for you, is the man you once loved. The father of the child you birthed seven years ago. The chief executive officer of the company you're currently working at.

Also the man, who had broken your heart, had left you alone to pick up the pieces on your own.

You knew that this day would come. You have spent years preparing to face him one day. Over the years you've seen this face everywhere, be it on magazines or billboards or be it glorified on media but why is your chest caving in as you stand on the threshold, a moment away to see him again?

Taking a deep breath, you pitch your face into the most neutral expression you could bear. You won't deter, you won't step back.

Your knuckles give two swift knocks on the door and the secretary opens it for you, letting you in and stepping out once you enter.

At the sound of the door closing, your gaze lifts.

Wonwoo walks towards you, in large but steady strides, just as you have remembered. He stands in front of you, at a distance. Your gazes meet and the time stops.

Because this time unlike all the previous encounters, you are not avoiding him. This time you take time to observe him.

Wonwoo hasn't changed much, his eyes hold the same depth. He, you assume, still likes his hair side parted with locks clipped so they don't fall on his face. The scent of the same perfume lingers in the air, the one which he had always claimed as his signature. The frame of his glasses aren't geometric anymore, he goes with pilot nowadays.

And before your mind could trace back on the memory lane deeper, you decide to slip back into the momentum.

“Mr. Jeon”, you bow to him, giving a small smile. Your heart beats erratically, as you continue to speak, “You must be busy so I won't take much of your time.”

The title you call him by is foreign to Wonwoo's ear. It has been bothering him a lot. It always used to be strings of sickly sweet nicknames. 

He watches the changes time has brought upon you. You no longer seem like the carefree law major from back then. You no longer are the girl who'd cry over smallest things, speak the first thought that came to your mind.

While Wonwoo loses touch with the current predicament, you line up several documents on his desk in specific order.

It's exacting because you used to know him so well, maybe even know if he hasn't emerged entirely as a different person. You see the way his eyes are on you but the dilated pupils give away the fact that he's running miles in his head.

So you wait, wait for him to come back to the present, to this moment. 

And he does, a few minutes later. You can tell it by the way his gaze locks into yours right away, his lips curling down in slightest.

“How have you been, Y/N?”

His voice strikes a chord in your heart, before it reaches your ear. The voice that you used to love so much, the voice that sung you to sleep on restless nights, the same voice which when called your name, it summoned your soul.

Years of preparation goes down in the trench as you're about to break down at the first set of words you hear from him today.

But you can't, you're not the same vulnerable Y/N, who used to strip bare in front of her lover.

“I think we have more important matters to discuss, Mr. Jeon.”, you speak through your gritted teeth.

“But you promised you'd answer all my questions.”, Wonwoo reminds you calmly.

“And this is what you want to know?”

“Out of all things, first and foremost, yes this is what I want to know.”

You find it ironic, trapped in by his words, you answer truthfully, “I just can't sum up everything but I have been holding it in, thanks to Wonjae.”

Wonwoo perks at the mention of your son's name, well his as well.

“The first document is about me as Wonjae’s legal guardian, consenting to you conducting a DNA test.”, your gaze is gentle as you point at the bunched papers, “I don't want any questions, any fingers raised at my son in future.”

“But I don't–”

“I request you to conduct one.”

Your sharp tone shuts up Wonwoo completely, though not willing, he nods.

His gaze sweeps across the rest of the document which promotes him to ask, “What are the rest of these documents for?"

Your eyes turn somber. You've studied law, practised it. You know all the nooks and crannies and you're a mother who is raising her son against all odds.

“The second document is a contract that states that if you don't want to be associated with Wonjae then the fact that he’s your son will be concealed and never brought up by me. If I ever do so”, you turn the pages and show him the space left blank, “You can fill up the breach statement and penalties in this section, I have left it blank.”

Wonwoo gapes at you in disbelief, “What do you think you're trying to pull here?”, he speaks in a low tone but you can hear the agitation ringing in it, “What do you think of me, Y/N?”

You don't deem it necessary to answer his questions and proceed further to explain the contents of the last document.

“If you have any concerns about me working in your company and see me as a threat or identify me as someone who has the potential of stirring up trouble then you can ask me to resign but under the conditions that I work here until I find another job.”, you attitude has shimmered down from being hyper to nonchalant, now that you have done your part.

Wonwoo observes you, in disbelief and at himself in distaste because he's the reason behind the version you are currently showcasing.

“Also, I have prepared the clauses for custody just in case you're willing to share responsibilities in future. I'll bring it to you if you decide to be a part of Wonjae's life.”

You say terms, speak things all in legal language and Wonwoo just listens.

“I would have suggested you to run these documents by your legal team to cite any negotiations or catch any flaws but unfortunately, it would mean that I'd be the person you'll need to work with.”, you smile sardonically, “So it would be better if you contact someone who's not affiliated to this company.”

He wonders if things would have been different if he stayed and in the midst of the storm that whirlwinds in his head, he asks, “Why didn't you tell me that you were pregnant?”

What a simple question to ask. Are all questions meant to have an answer? 

“Would you have stayed?”

Silence falls upon. 

You give him a knowing smile, “Just when you were leaving, I asked you something, do you remember?”

Yes, he remembers, all of it. The way you had chased him to the station, your face wet, eyes bloodshot from crying. The way you just stood in front of him, mumbling the last question you had as the train entered the platform.

“What if I have something important to tell you? Would it make you stay?”

“There’s nothing left to salvage. Nothing's gonna stop me from leaving. This is the end for us.”

It answers his previous question. It makes sense now, he didn't only leave you, he had abandoned his unborn child as well. 

Some fences can't be mended, some bridges can't be cemented, just like this relationship, which once bloomed beautifully, is now wilted.

“Do you have anything else to ask, Mr. Jeon? If not I'll be taking my leave.”, you say arranging all the documents, “I'll leave the documents here with you. We can meet once you have gone through these and made a decision.”

Wonwoo observes you, he can't even fathom the hurt you've gone through. He knows he's the reason for your suffering, he's grateful that you've been raising his son with so much love.

“I'll get back to you, Y/N.”

That's all he says and expects you to leave but what you do next tears him apart.

You are kneeling down, in front of him. Your head hangs low as you plead, your voice quivering, “Mr. Jeon, you can have everything you want at your feet but Wonjae is the only one I have. You have the power, money and capability to do anything. So I beg you, please don't take my son away from me, he's the sole reason I'm living this life.”

Wonwoo fists his hands, he feels insulted. How low do you think of him? But again, is it your fault that you don't trust him, because if it was in the past you used to trust him more than yourself.

He bends and holds your shoulder firmly as he helps you get on your feet.

“I'd rather perish than to do something like that to you or our son.”, Wonwoo grabs your chin to make you look at him, “We made him with love, Y/N.”

A tear falls down your eye, “Did you ever love me?”

His hands leave you, he looks at you with dejection.

“Love is built on trust but you never trusted me. Not enough to let me know your actual identity. You hid the fact that you are an heir to the Jeon estate. I get it, you didn't slip initially but we dated for 4 years. You even knew about my cousin’s best friend but I didn't even know about your closest family.”

You let out a bitter chuckle, “It's all in the past now. Let's focus on Wonjae, if you want to be a part of his life.”

“I want to be a good father to him.”, Wonwoo says sincerely, “Help me, Y/N, please.”

You nod while wiping your tears, “Jae is just like you. It's like my genes didn't even try.”, you breathe out a smile, “He likes you, I can see the way he lights up when he sees you on the Tv or covers. Please don't disappoint him, please be there for him. If you're going to do it, please do it right.”

And Wonwoo is determined.

“I already got your number from Jeonghan, I'll call you later.”, you tell him, “And if you want to meet Jae, come over this weekend, I'll text you my address.”

“Thanks, Y/N.”

“You're welcome.”

It's going well, though Wonjae was hesitant initially, he is delighted to have his father in his life which makes you wonder if all these years you have been doing things right. You'd admit that you're jealous seeing the father-son duo because they blend in so well, it's like they've never been apart. But you're happy for Wonjae.

“Don't spoil him too much.”, comes your warning one day when you spot Wonwoo setting up the new gaming devices in your son’s room, which you recollect your son has been wanting for long.

“I'll keep it in check.”, Wonwoo answers, “But let me make up at least a little for the lost time.”

Your heart swells when you enter the room an hour later only to see your son perched on his father's lap, both of them equally invested in the game, same face, same expression and same mind.

“He goes to karate classes every friday.”, you say rummaging through the drawers one evening and Wonwoo adds it as a reminder in his calendar.

“He goes to painting class on Tuesdays and his music classes are on Wednesday and Saturday. He learns to swim on Mondays and he rests on Thursdays. Sundays are reserved for his weekly shenanigans, he suggests random activity and we do it throughout the day.”

Wonwoo is half amused, half concerned and you see it on his face vividly.

“And no he doesn't get tired, it's not too much for him. It's his idea to explore all the fields and go ahead with the ones he finds interesting. The list of curricular activities was way long, we have trimmed it down to these and it may shorten further.”, you explain in a breath and hand him the timetable you finally found after almost turning the room upside down.

“He may look like me but he's just like you, Y/N.”, Wonwoo smiles looking at the paper in his hand, “You used to be like this.”

Used to be, not anymore, you think. The past you were totally a different person, she wouldn't even recognise the present you, you're so different now. 

Wonwoo lays the paper flat on the table as he meticulously inputs each activity in his calendar. You watch him in silence, watch the man you had once wanted to spend your entire life with.

“Are you planning to let everyone know about Wonjae?”, you ask Wonwoo, later that night anxiously after he puts your son to sleep.

It had been gnawing at you relentlessly. Wonwoo notices the nervousness, he walks into the kitchen and makes you a cup of coffee.

“You’re the favourite celebrity of the nation, a long line of influential people are waiting to get their daughter married to you and if you suddenly declare that you have a child…”, you look at him with glassy eyes, “I'm afraid that people will target Jae. I don't care if I am subjected to any kind of ridicule or threat–”

“Y/N, calm down.”, he says calmly, “For now I have decided it to be not known. I have tightened the security and been careful but”, he assures you, “if it gets known I'll protect you both.”

“You don't have to protect me, Mr. Jeon.”, your voice drops an octave, a sign of your defensiveness, “Just take care of Jae.”

“I'm sorry, Y/N.”, he just says it, for the present, for the past, “I had a reason to leave though it wouldn't justify what I did. I'm really sorry.”

“Jae has fallen asleep, I think you should leave now.”, you get up from where you're sitting, “You're my employer and let's try to stick to the dynamics.”

Wonwoo watches quietly as you retreat back to your room. You have changed, a lot, thanks to him.

“Won! You won't believe what happened.”, you jump onto his lap as soon as you spot him sitting on the sofa.

Wonwoo smiles, ruffling your hair as he secures his arms around your waist, “What happened, love?”

You press a quick kiss to his lips, smiling, “While returning back from the University I saw an old man selling some stuff at a very cheap price. And I was shocked when I saw the limited edition cassettes, you know the ones I've been collecting recently. I bought all of them! My collection is complete!”

“Woah, I'm so proud of you.”, Wonwoo kisses the side of your head.

“I got you a metal pick, because you keep losing them. Also, I got us matching rings!”

Wonwoo looks at you in awe as you put the ring on his pinky.

He puts his hand over the suit pocket and feels the ring as he presses over it through the layers of fabrics. A look at the closed door and he's out the next moment.

“I am guessing the matters are resolved now.”, Yoongi says one day during lunchtime, “Mr. Ceo is not seen as much around the office nowadays.”

“Yes, it is resolved.”, you say monotonously.

Yoongi hums, “Good then. Let me know if you need my help for anything.”

You squint your eyes, smiling, “You don't know shit about law, Yoongi.”

“Oh but I do know about a thing or two outside law, Y/N.”

“You have a misconception about yourself, I see.”, you chuckle when Yoongi glares at you.

And that glare turns into a fond smile while you eat off his ears about a character of the show you don't like.

Wonwoo, who happens to pass by the area, doesn't quite like the way whoever the guy sitting beside you is looking at you. That afternoon, he didn't have lunch, apparently due to loss of appetite.

He has been trying to make space for himself in your life but you're rigid. He shudders at the thought of your angry face whenever he subtly tries to bounce off the wall you've built around yourself. You only pay him mind when you discuss about Wonjae with him, otherwise he's just sidelined.

He has zero interest in work today, his mind keeps playing the incidents from the previous night.

He was supposed to drop by your apartment as usual to spend some time with Jae and you.

He punches the passcode and is met by a startled you.

“Jae would be staying at Mina’s tonight, I had already sent you a text regarding this.”, you say and wait. Wait for him to leave.

“Oh sorry, I didn't get a chance to check my phone.”

Lies. Wonwoo is at your place today with just one motive, to talk to you.

There's a moment of silence and you're just about to show him the way out, he asks, “Can we talk?”

“We don't have anything to talk about, Mr. Jeon–”

“Stop calling me that!”, he hisses and closes the distance between the two of you, “Call me Wonu, Won, Woni anything, please.”

You look at him incredulously, “But that's not what I should be calling my employer, isn't it?”

“I'm not just your employer.”, his voice drops an octave, “I was your lover, I am the father of your child.”

“What are you doing?”, you ask wearily when he grabs your arm and pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around you.

He rests his forehead against you, closing his eyes, “Please, let me hold you for a moment.”

You are confused, you don't want yourself anywhere near him but your body betrays you, it seeks comfort into the embrace of your past lover, it's just like returning to an old habit.

“I never stopped loving you, Y/N.”, he confesses, opening his eyes to see your wide ones, “I did leave you at my own will but it wasn't because I fell out of love.”

“It doesn't matter anymore.”, you say trying to push him away but his grip is too strong, “All I wanted was a closure when you left but you didn't even consider me worthy of that. I didn't know who you actually were, didn't get the reason behind your abrupt decision of breaking up and now you decide you wanna do the truth drop just because we have a son.”, you shake your head, “That's not how it works. I know I'm just a baggage that comes with Jae, I know my place, you had made it clear then, so you don't have to do all of this.”

He frees you, his eyes holding depths of oceans before retreating to stand by the window, facing away from you.

“I am the youngest within the Jeon household. I was loved, always getting what I wanted and never put on the pedestal because I have an older brother. I was always used to getting away with whatever, while he was dumped with all the expectations, afterall he was supposed to take over the Jeon empire.”

There's a pause before he continues, “He looked like he belonged to the limelight while I was the opposite, always preferred to be in the shadows. It was a blessing, to have a big brother like him, to have such loving parents who never tried to load their expectations on me. I expressed my desire to get enrolled into the University under the plain disguise and pursue a degree I wanted.”

He turns to look at you, “That's when I met you and we fell in love. I was so happy, happiest I'd say because you saw me for me, I was grateful that you made me a part of your life but it kept bugging me that I was hiding my identity.”, his voice cracks, “I was afraid, what if after learning everything, you make a decision to leave me? But that's when the incident happened.”

“My brother finally snapped. He couldn't take the pressure, couldn't bear the heaviness of the expectations anymore so he tried to step down. But my parents wouldn't let him, for them their pride mattered the most. They couldn't just let people think that they raised a failure in the Jeon household.”

You listen silently.

“My brother left. He disappeared without any trace, no goodbyes, nothing. I was heartbroken, my parents were inconsolable. Until a few months passed and they recovered. And that's the first time I got to witness the true nature of my parents. They only saw me as a replacement to my brother. It was so evident, I was thrusted into grooming sessions to be the acting director. It was so sudden, it felt nauseous because I have always seen myself out of those scenes, to me they were for my brother. No one cared, the expectations were projected onto me and that's when I started missing the classes and I got to see you less. My mind started to shift, it was messed up and after pondering for weeks, I chose to be an obedient child to my parents and leave behind everything I was associated with, including you.”, he looks at you apologetically, “I'm sorry.”

“I can't forgive you.”, comes your immediate and stern reply, “I hope you realise that out of all the things you could have done, you decided to abandon me.”

Wonwoo freezes at your words, the truth hits him in the gut.

“You didn't even seek for me for all these years.”, your voice cracks with the hurt, “You know about Jae because I decided it to be known. So don't you dare come here pretending like a good person as the world believes you to be. I know who you are, what you are.”

“You're right.”, Wonwoo says, more to himself, “I am really an awful person.”

And then he leaves and doesn't come back for days until your son calls him just because he misses his father.

The weekend follows and the doorbell rings. Before you could reach, you see your son jumping towards the door, his smile widening when he sees his father on the monitor.

It's a mundane Saturday, except you're building a fort in the living room with your son and Wonwoo. It's simple actually, you've built it for Wonjae many times but today something is hindering it and you figure out that the reason is Wonwoo.

He's absolutely clueless, he's not helping, he rather needs help.

“Papa, you are so bad at it.”, Wonjae calls him out and you bite your lips to suppress the laugh bubbling in your throat.

Wonwoo with a very childish frown on his face, refutes the claim, “I am just giving you both a chance to showcase your skills.”

You roll your eyes, focusing on assembling the fort while the two guys bicker on the backdrop.

“Mama, save me!”

You turn back to see Wonjae tackled on the ground as Wonwoo tickles him. A laugh bubbles out of your throat, you feel good in the moment. After all, this was something you've always wanted, to get married and start a family with the man you once loved so much.

“Woni, let's get married.”, you declare, out of nowhere, “I want to marry you immediately.”

Wonwoo laughs, “You speak out the very first thought that comes to your mind.”, he caresses your cheeks fondly, “Let’s get married once we settle in our careers.”

“You don't have to work, I'll take care of you.”, you say sincerely, “Just be mine, please.”

“That's not what you said last time, as far as I can recollect.”, Wonwoo squints his eyes at you, “You said that you don't want to work, you just want to be my wife, the mother to my kids.”

“And I meant it!”, you cross your heart.

“Which one did you mean? Because both are pretty contradictory to me.”

“I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”, you admit, a soft smile spreading on your lips.

And in the moment, Wonwoo falls in love with you all over again. He leans in, eyes never leaving yours as he closes the gap between you two.

The phone rings and you both groan.

“It's my dad, let me take this one.”, you say, pulling back as you check the caller Id.

He nods but does exactly the opposite by pulling you by your neck and planting his lips on yours for a kiss that takes your breath away.

The ringing of the phone eventually stops but Wonwoo doesn't.

A soft sigh escapes from within you and your mood shifts. There's no point in dwelling in the past now.

Yoongi paces nervously as he awaits you. A sudden click and he sees you entering through the door and from behind you, emerges Jihoon.

Yoongi pulls you aside and whispers, “What's the HR guy doing here, Y/N?”

“He's trustable.”, you assure him and introduce them to each other.

Yoongi exhales sharply, he sweeps a glance at the two of you and speaks, “I think there may be some fund embezzlement going on and for long.”, he takes out his phone and shows some the snaps he has taken, “While I was accessing some documents for the recent staffing activities, I came across this.”

“How did you get access to this? Shouldn't this be requiring credentials of Senior Managers?”, Jihoon asks, eyeing Yoongi suspiciously.

Yoongi scoffs and looks at you, “Look at your trustable guy, he's doubting me.”

You glare at Jihoon and then look back at Yoongi, “Don't mind him, Yoongi, tell us the entire thing.”

He nods, “So the exchange receipts you're seeing, on the surface they're all going to different accounts but when I traced back the companies turned out to be paper companies. Someone has to be in the directorial position to pull this without getting noticed. I had even dropped an anonymous tip to the auditor's office but surprisingly or not, no action was taken.”

“This is concerning.”, Jihoon ponders over, “Does anyone else know about this?”

“I'm not aware.”, Yoongi answers truthfully, “This shouldn't be of my concern but I can't get it out of my head and I think if I try to poke again they'll be on my tail.”

“We definitely need someone from the Audit team on our side, someone who's trustworthy and holds power.”, you say, “But it doesn't seem plausible.”

“I'll see what I can do.”, you assure both of them, “Yoongi, please send those evidences and Jihoon, could you check if you could link any of these account owners to anyone from the company?”

While you walk out of the room with a lot on your mind, you get a call from your son and he has some requests.

Wonwoo punches the code hurriedly as his heart races after getting a sketchy text from his son. He manages to enter your apartment only to find it pitch black and eerily silent.

“Y/N? Jae?”, he calls out through the passage and he keeps calling as he makes his way to the hallway.

Suddenly the light goes on, the whistles blow and confetti flies.

Wonwoo stands wide eyed, as he sees the banner reading a ‘Happy Father's Day!’ and looks at Jae holding a cake smiling while you, Jeonghan and Mina stand behind him each wearing a party hat and funny accessories.

You observe quietly, the way your son is beaming in happiness when his father appreciates and voices out all the praises on receiving the gifts.

You're proud of your son, he's empathetic, he's kind and he's all you could ever want. When he called you at work, which was rare, with a hesitant voice and a wish to celebrate the day because he recently learnt that his father's birthday had already passed, you agreed immediately, because he loves to celebrate special days.

You're setting the table, faint sounds of laughter reaching your ears.

“Thanks, Y/N.”

You look up to see Wonwoo looming over your frame.

“It was all Jae’s idea, you should be thanking your son.”, you say light heartedly, “I didn't even remember.”

Wonwoo looks at you surprised, “You forgot? Didn't uncle always nag when you don't wish him? You should give him a call–”

He halts when he sees you go stiff.

“Is everything alright, Y/N?”, Wonwoo asks, now alarmed, “Are your parents fine?”

“They should be.”, you answer vaguely, before busying yourself back on plating the food, “You should go back, Jae must be looking for you.”

The dinner is going well with Wonwoo mostly talking with Jae and Jeonghan while Mina chimes in only when she feels like it.

Your mood has dampened ever since Wonwoo has brought up your father so you're just present, not involved in whatever is being discussed.

When Jae hops off to take a washroom break, Jeonghan takes the chance to ask you, “Are you seeing someone, Y/N.”

You shake your head, “There's a lot on my plate already and I'm content with Jae in my life.”

Though it is an open secret, Wonwoo feels relief flood in his chest.

“Didn't even seek?”, Jeonghan probes further.

You sigh, “Actively no. But I did go on a couple of dates, even the blind dates Mina set me up for, but”, your gaze drops, “All of them backed out as soon as they learnt about Jae. Guess, no one wants a woman like me. So I have given up on it.”

There are words on the tip of Wonwoo's tongue, he wants to say that you're everything one could ever want, then why did he leave you in the first place?

Your mind lingers back to that phase where your self esteem had hit rock bottom because of some failed dates with men you didn't even know. Might sound funny but the canon balls life had thrown at you combined with ‘nothing has ever gone right’ made you falter.

Jae comes back and the topic is dropped off the table, it's all laugh and chatters until Jeonghan decides to tease you for fun, with the help of his beloved nephew. He loves teasing the heck out of people whom he dear and has engulfed the little boy into this as well. He murmurs something into Jae’s ear without you noticing.

Jeonghan gives a sly grin as he sweeps a gaze round the table and asks Jae, “Jae, tell us who you love more, Mama or Papa?”

A classic trick question to which people tend to avoid answering.

But Jae is giggling as he answers almost immediately, “Papa!”

It is supposed to be a stick to tease you but your heart drops. There's a sudden shift in your demeanor and it's noticeable.

There's a screeching sound as you stand up abruptly and walk into your room, closing the door behind.

“Everything is not made to be a joke about.”, Mina hisses, glaring at Jeonghan.

“Did I hurt, Mama?”, Jae asks, tears already pooling in his eyes.

“Yes, you did. This is not something I expected from you.”, Mina answers him, trying to tone down her anger, “Go to your room, we'll talk tomorrow about it.”

Wonjae follows obediently.

“I'm sorry, I was just trying to–”

“You should leave if you're done.”

It hits a nerve and Jeonghan tries to defend himself which leads to a heated exchange between both.

“Aren't you being too much here, Mina?”, Jeonghan raises his voice with accusations.

“Oh maybe I am because you and him”, she sweeps a glance at Wonwoo, “weren't there during her pregnancy phase. Neither of you are aware of what she had to go through, that her parents disowned her, that she almost lost her life while giving birth to Jae due to excessive bleeding and all other complications.”

Both the men freeze and Mina heaves out a breath.

“You might think, Y/N is getting sensitive over a joke but you guys need to understand that she has her entire life built around Jae, she has always tried to be the best parent to him so if he suddenly says he loves his found father more over her even as a joke, she would begin questioning whatever she has ever done for Jae and whether she went wrong somewhere.”

“Can I go and talk to her?”, Wonwoo asks, his voice shaky holding the pleading tone.

“Do whatever you want, just don't hurt her anymore.”, she says, grabbing her belongings and exiting the apartment.

“Go talk to her.”, Jeonghan adds, “I'm leaving, call me if you need me.”

You sit quietly at the corner of your bed, your mind empty. Your fingers fidget among themselves and all you are trying to remember is why you left the table. Why did it sting so much? Wonjae has always longed for his father ever since he knew about him so it was given and there's nothing to be upset about it.

But maybe you're easy to be left behind, maybe not choosing you is easier than staying. You feel tears streaming down your face, you feel your heart constricting in pain.

Wonwoo enters the room crouches in front of you.

“I'm sorry”, you say, as soon as you feel his presence, avoiding his gaze, “I overreacted over a small matter–”

And you halt when you hear a choked sob.

“No I'm so so sorry.”, he hiccups through every word he tries to speak, “I– You had to suffer so much and I wasn't even by your side. I can't even turn back time, I can't take away your pain.”

You wipe his tears and he leans against your palm.

“I left when you needed me the most. You had to make a lot of sacrifices, while I was just– I'm sorry, Y/N.”

Wonwoo's crying and you watch in shock as he goes into hyperventilation. He grasps at your arm as he tries to breathe but it doesn't work. You hurriedly take off his glasses, loosen his tie and unbutton the first few buttons of his shirt.

“Wonwoo, calm down”, you say, grabbing his face, “Look at me and try breathing. Inhale through your nose and exhale slowly through pursed lips as if blowing out a candle.”

“I-I can't–”, he manages to speak between the ragged breaths.

Then you do what your mind prompts you to, you press your hands near to his mouth which makes his lips pucker and you plant yours on them.

You kiss him tenderly, caress his arms gently with the motive of calming the neurotransmitters in his brain and it works, you feel Wonwoo taking slow breaths as his mind distracts and body eases in the moment.

You pull away, searching for his eyes, “Better now?”

He nods, breathing heavily. You don't let him leave in the middle of the night, offering him to sleep in your bedroom. Once you both kiss your son’s sleeping form goodnight, the two of you settle in an awkward stance.

“Jae doesn't like sharing his bed, so you take my bed and I'll take the couch.”

But somehow you end up in your bed with Wonwoo as he invades your personal space and holds you in his arms like he always used to do.

There's intimacy in the moment which makes you spill your heart out, you tell him how your orthodox parents cut ties with you when you told them about your pregnancy. They never reached out to you after that. You tell him how haunting it was for you to go through it alone. How tiring it was to support yourself by working multiple part time jobs while preparing for interviews and managing the pregnancy and that you believe that Mina is godsend because she's the nurse at the hospital you were brought to when you had fainted at work once and since then she stayed and looked over you like a godmother.

“Aren't you uncomfortable in those clothes?”, you ask, eyes droopy.

“With you in my arms, these clothes are the least of my concern.”, he smiles stroking your hair, “I could do this all my life.”

“I missed you, Won.”, the nickname slips out of you naturally, “When it was unbearable, when I had something to share but no one was there to listen, when while giving birth I thought I wouldn't be able to live through.”, you hide your face in his chest, trying to blink away the tears, “I wished you were there when I held Jae in my arms for the first time, when he grew up to be so much like you.”

Your words turn into sleepy mumbles until they stop.

And once you fall asleep, his floodgates open again, Wonwoo cries the more he looks at you, apologizing a thousand times. He promises to keep you and Jae safe and now all he wants is to take the weight off your shoulders.

Morning comes with the rays of sun peeking through the curtains. You turn within the sheets, having the best sleep in a while as you hug the side pillow, throwing a leg over it. Ten more minutes you promise to yourself as you snuggle closer, a familiar Cologne hitting your nose. You frown, running your hands over the pillow only to find it moving as well.

Your eyes fly open and reality comes crashing down, the pillow you're grabbing is a certain Jeon Wonwoo, who is currently staring down at you with fond eyes and a soft smile.

“Good morning.”, he greets and all you try to do is get away from the proximity. But your baby daddy has other plans.

With a swift swig, he pulls you closer by your middle and pecks your forehead. You go stiff as he eyes your lips and leans in but you don't stop him.

“I think Jae is calling me.”, you say, getting your senses back and wriggling out of his grip, running out of the room.

Wonwoo sits disappointed but his heart is eased.

“Are you sure, you don't wanna inform Mr. Jeon yet?”, Jihoon asks as his eyes almost pierces through the documents, “I got hold of Jimin from the Auditor’s team and he's digging up the history it seems.”

“We can't go up to him just with these documents. We need concrete proof because seemingly we are up against a bunch of influential people. Let Jimin come back with something.”

As you fish out your phone to call Yoongi, the said man appears looking very distraught.

“Guys, it's not only embezzlement, they're planning to upsurge the ownership of this company.”, he informs, leaving the rest of you shocked, “They are on move to convince the shareholders about transferring the shares but given our CEO’s clean image, it won't be easy, what could they be upto?”

“How do you know so much?”, Jihoon asks Yoongi and the latter rolls his eyes.

“Put your mind to come up with something useful.”, comes Yoongi’s snarky remark.

And while the two snide at each other, you ponder on whether to inform Wonwoo about the matter or wait a bit more.

But time doesn't wait and so doesn't the conspirators because a few days later all you see is yours and Jae’s face on every article, all the news bulletins linking the two of you with Wonwoo.

And your heart drops when you realize they're going to use you to tarnish Wonwoo's image.

→ Do not copy, re-post, translate, or share any of my works on other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, joonsytip. ©️

[robboyblunder]

As promised I went ahead and continued my "ghoul guide" with a part 2 (part one linked in replies)! This one covers stuff specifically with a made up lore guide of in-world ghoul stuff as if they were a sort of unique magic entity.

This one wound up way longer and had to be split so expect a third final one eventually lmao. for now though... I'm gonna take a break and yell. Bonus extra info plus the transcript under the cut!

ID in ALT text!

Bonus note: While not portrayed in the guide, it’s important to know a detail about ghouls’ origin called “memory echoes”. While ghouls are formed from humans past who lose all memory of their previous self while maintaining an assumed personality from before, at times certain instances of events, actions, items, and otherwise can trigger these “echoes”. Echoes are very rare, but a valued treasure to ghouls; they make them feel more connected to their past and more “human”. Upon triggering an echo, a ghoul will become completely listless, unable to respond or react until the echo has completed, usually within seconds.

“Memory echoes” are described as blurry faded memories that often show featureless shapes and colors, but a very strong “feeling” of a Deja-vu of the moment. They feel viscerally real and can have a mix of the senses i.e. touch and smell, but produce no recognizable faces or imagery of the self. No ghoul has ever reported fully remembering one, nor any semblance of their true past beyond the haunting leftovers.

Begin Transcript:

A Compendium of Hell’s Derivates

While there are many theories on the demonic nature of ghouls,

The true source is surprisingly Human.

Souls cannot be recreated; rather, they’re Recycled and Reborn

The cycle of ghoul creation started for unknown reasons…

But one thing is Certain:

Natural forces do not change easily.

Raw elements collide with the fuel of life itself until one connects

by His command

A violent injection of pure elemental magic

Rewrites and erases all memory and one’s past, drastically altering the soul…

These new powers lend to the powerful allies of the ministry,

However….

… new powers are a dangerous toy.

While coined as “Feral”, new ghouls would better be designated “Raw”, “Unbound”, and “Lawlessly Dangerous”

First formed, they are still elements;

Torrential, Aimless,

Incapable of coherent thought or rules

-but with time, coherence returns to the individual

Who grows much like a life cycle’s stages without necessarily aging.

The overall cycle is the same per ghoul, yet varied enough each rises differently…

First form: “Raw” – Second form (1): “Feral” – Second form (2) – Third form: “Stabilized”

Catalyst, violent, poor formation – Unaware, wild, chaotic – Conscious; can act like oneself; less raw – fully formed and recognizable

The first form, “Raw”, is notably so violent the devil himself does not release them until stage two.

The second form in stage one of a “Feral” ghoul is much like the forces of nature; free willed and wild, understanding minimal speech.

Take caution: they can be mischievous and cause decent damage.

In the second stage of a “Feral” ghoul, they behave like typical people; however, they’re still very free and may choose to never fully stabilize.

Note: you can tell they’ve reached this stage by presence of a tail and civil habits.

If desired, a ghoul reaches the final form: “Stabilized”. They’re transformed into a stable humanoid body, a form less powerful but safer.

Note: Talented ghouls can change form at will in this stage between secondary Feral and Stable.

When it comes to location, each form is most likely to be found:

Raw: Hell, contained

Feral (Stage 1): wilds/natural areas

Feral (Stage 2): wilds and civil areas

Stabilized: anywhere people go

Seeing feral ghouls is not uncommon, and can even be considered lucky!

They tend to provide free protection to keep their home

Ghouls can only stabilize via ministry ritual;

One can assume they’re ministry members if stable, even off duty.

Ghouls are uncommon, but found most places if looked for;

This seems especially true near ministry placements.

Ghouls only form from adults and don’t “age” traditionally, yet they’re still mortal

Deceased ghouls do not seem to return or recycle.

Summoning intentionally pulls only second stage feral ghouls or stable ghouls from anywhere,

They don’t always like this however (see other guide).

The cycle of ghouls serves a main purpose – as forces for the Dark One, in return for rebirth

However, there are two channels through which they serve.

1) Natural defense against corrupted holy magic

Non-stable ghouls defend at will naturally where they live

2) training to fight, protect, and uphold the ministry’s efforts in the name of the Devil.

Contrary to belief, summonings cannot grab from “nothing”;

Like the creation of a ghoul,

Their element, once developed, is what becomes pulled by nature

The force of such pull is incredible,

A disorientating test of will so great…

…it can render even the most sound minds rather violent.

This is why while some choose to stabilize, others may not;

But should a mind change, they can be freed or re-summoned.

Alternative to wild summoning, one can summon from trained ghouls over feral;

Many ghouls are trained for ministry positions all over, but any can be summoned if unassigned.

Though stabilized, unassigned ghouls are not contractually bound to anyone until assigned.

They’re great for extra work hands and being able to know what kind of team mates you’ll get without leaving it to chance.

Summoning any ghoul however reverts them to feral form, and the challenge to tame them remains the same.

Just because you know a ghoul does not mean an easy summon.

Finally, be warned: forcing unwanted breaking or upholding of a summoning contract

Will have dire consequences.

Aside from rarity of an element, there are “power classes” within each element.

Tiers:

Rarity of an element does not equal strength.

The break down is as follows:

Rare – extreme and dangerous power. These ghouls earn a specialized title.

Quite strong, stand out in their class and very sought after.

Most common tier; average and decent powers that are expectable.

Weak powers, but some uses are applicable.

Uncommon – ghouls who possess little to no powers. Ghouls in this tier may at times suddenly change power tier without warning to any other category.

S-Tier ghouls are quite rare and a sight to behold- truly, they embody nature’s power.

End transcript.

[alxandergoth]

night at the stargazer lounge with orange, their childhood friend aidan & aidan's wife indiana ☆⋆°.🍷⋆🍸✧˖°

TRANSCRIPT:

Orange: Wild seeing you like this. If you told me five years ago you’d be the one in love and planning a wedding, I’d have laughed in your face. Eli: I would’ve laughed too. I didn’t think I was the kind of person people stayed for. Orange: Hey, c'mon… Eli. Eli: I don’t know. I just, marriage felt like something for other people. People who grew up believing in stability. In ‘forever.’ I never really did. Not until Charlie. Orange: You always had people who stayed, Eli. I did. Mum did. Charlie just… made you believe it too. Eli: You’re not gonna cry, are you? Orange: Please. I’m saving the tears for the vows. Yours or Charlie’s, whoever cracks first. Eli: Ten simoleons says it’s me.

[lowrisemiller]

a one - shot inspired by sabrina carpenter’s songs “busy woman” & “15 minutes”

harry castillo x younger!associate!fem reader

you’re busy. driven, polished, and far too focused to fall for a flirt like harry castillo—older, smug, and always one floor too close. but when a risky little challenge is whispered between meetings, you agree to play along… fifteen minutes on the clock, and he swears he can make you unravel.

masterlist | 2k words | I just watched masterlists and tbh plot was mid but harry was a whole snack & I wish he was in the film more so here ya go<33 | the pics don’t depict what reader looks like | desk/office sex , oral (f receiving) , dirty talk , light dom/sub vibe , age gap , unprotected piv sex , power dynamic

────────୨ৎ────────

You work on the twenty-third floor, executive communications, damage control, all the places where rookies go to die. Your office is tucked near the east windows, a strategic location that means you can look busy and in control while still seeing every move that happens on the floor below.

The twenty-second floor is legal strategy, crisis mitigation. Where the real sharks live.

That’s where Harry Castillo sits. Older, charming, always a little rumpled in that expensive-on-purpose kind of way. He talks like he’s too tired for games but plays them better than anyone. The man can dismantle a PR landmine with a half-sighed “let’s not be dramatic,” and somehow, the whole room listens.

You’re not dramatic. You’re busy.

Too busy for men who wear their shirt sleeves rolled halfway up their forearms like they know what that does. Too busy for the curve of a smirk that’s always half a second from being something more. Too busy for Harry Castillo.

Or at least, that’s what you keep telling yourself.

You’re one of the youngest women to be promoted to associate director before thirty. A New York transfer, reputation sharpened by fire and caffeine and the kind of quiet ambition that doesn’t ask for praise. You have a master’s degree, a full calendar, and five different alerts going off in your brain at all times.

You don’t date. You don’t fuck in the office. You don’t entertain men who flirt like they’ve already undressed you.

Harry Castillo is nine years older. He’s been with the firm for over a decade. He’s good—frustratingly so. When you moved floors temporarily during a restructuring, he made one joke about your color-coded planner and you didn’t look him in the eye for three weeks. Not because you were offended. Because he noticed.

He always notices.

Today’s meeting is about the Devlin account: big-name celebrity, bigger-name scandal. You’re both on the call list for the 4:30.

It’s 4:14 when you hear the knock. Three quick raps on the glass door before it swings open, uninvited. That’s the kind of man he is.

“You’re not still rewriting that press draft, are you?”

You don’t look up from your laptop.

“Only the parts that read like a hostage letter.”

He grins. Saunters in, no tie, button-down sleeves rolled and collar open just enough to make your brain short-circuit for a second.

“Brutal,” he says. “Are you always this rude to your elders?”

You finally glance up, just long enough to let him see the faint smirk tugging at your mouth.

“Only the ones who act like they have something to prove.”

That makes him laugh. He leans against the edge of your desk like he owns the air between you. Like he can feel how it tightens.

“Fifteen minutes until Devlin,” he says. “You know what I could do in fifteen minutes?”

“Take a nap?”

“Make you come. More than once.”

You blink.

Then scoff.

“You’re disgusting.”

“You’re smiling.”

You bite your bottom lip before it curls up too much.

“I’m busy, Castillo.”

“I know. That’s what makes it fun.”

He glances at the clock on your wall. 4:16.

“I’ll make it interesting. If I win, you let me take you out. If I lose, I’ll file those awful transcripts you keep forgetting.”

You close your laptop slowly. Look up at him through thick lashes. There’s something dangerous behind your eyes, and he knows it. But he also knows you’re thinking about it.

“You’re serious.”

“Deadly.”

“You have fifteen minutes. If you make me late to this meeting looking like I’ve been fucked, I will destroy you in front of the board.”

“Fifteen minutes? Set a timer.”

You don’t move when he says it.

You just hold his gaze, daring him to break the tension first. He doesn’t.

Instead, Harry steps forward and pulls your chair away from your desk with one hand. You’re still sitting when he kneels in front of you, his tie long since discarded, sleeves cuffed to his elbows. His eyes flick up, dark and unreadable.

“You’re gonna be late to your own meeting,” you murmur.

“Then I better get started.”

You expect teasing. Slowness. A warm-up that never quite pays off. That’s what men like him do, isn’t it? Stretch it out. Make you beg.

But Harry Castillo is not like other men.

He pushes your knees apart, drags you to the edge of the seat, and kisses the inside of your thigh like it’s a fucking promise. By the time his mouth reaches your panties, you’re already wet and already irritated that he knows you are.

“Cute,” he says, voice low and gravelly. “Lace?”

“Shut up and—”

But you don’t get to finish. He’s already pulling them aside and licking up your slit, slow and deep like he’s starving. You gasp, hands flying to his shoulders as your hips jerk up on instinct.

“Still busy?” he asks against your cunt.

You try to snap something back, something cutting, but his mouth closes over your clit and all that comes out is a broken gasp.

It’s unfair how good he is. How focused. There’s nothing gentle in the way he eats you out he devours. Tongue pressing hard against you, then flicking fast, then sucking as two fingers slide into you with practiced ease.

Your head falls back, one hand fisting in his thick hair.

“Oh my—fuck—Harry—”

He hums. The vibration shoots straight through your spine. You bite your lip hard enough to sting, but it doesn’t help. Your thighs are already shaking.

You try to pull away—pride, stubbornness, you don’t know—but he grips your hips and growls:

“You’re gonna come, sweetheart. Don’t fight it.”

And fuck if you don’t. It builds fast, blinding. Your thighs clamped around his head, back arching as you moan his name like it’s been stuck on your tongue all month.

He doesn’t let up. Even when you come, even when your hips are twitching and you’re panting, he licks you through it—drags it out until you’re squirming and glassy-eyed.

“One,” he says with a smirk, rising to his feet.

You should be embarrassed. You should shove him away and demand he leave. But you just stare up at him, flushed and fucked-out, breathing hard.

He leans down. He kisses your jaw, the corner of your mouth. You taste yourself on his lips.

“Desk,” he murmurs.

“What?”

“Now. Bend over.”

You hesitate—half pride, half nerves.

He doesn’t repeat himself.

You stand on shaky legs, turn around, and brace your hands against the cool wood. You expect him to flip your skirt up and fuck you immediately, but instead he takes a second. Runs his hands over your ass. Whistles low.

“You know how long I’ve wanted you like this?”

“You talk too much,” you mutter, but it comes out breathless.

Harry chuckles. Then you feel the hard press of his cock against your bare ass as he leans over and whispers:

“You’re gonna be the one begging though.”

Then he pushes in.

No warning. No teasing.

Just thick, hard, deep. You gasp—almost choke—because it’s so much. Your hands scramble across the desk for something to grip.

“Jesus—Harry—”

“That’s right. Say it again.”

He pulls back and drives in harder. Your eyes roll. The desk creaks. Somewhere in the back of your mind you realize the meeting is about to start, but you don’t care.

You should.

But you don’t.

Because he’s fucking you like a man possessed—one hand in your hair, the other gripping your hip like he’s never letting go. Your nails dig into the wood. You feel him everywhere.

“You feel how tight you are?” he groans. “So fucking wet. Knew you’d be like this.”

You can’t think. Can’t breathe. Every snap of his hips sends lightning through your core. You feel another orgasm barreling toward you, and so does he.

He reaches around, finds your clit again, and rubs fast and filthy.

“Come on, baby. Give me one more. I know you can.”

And you do. It rips through you with no warning, no buildup—just white-hot bliss that leaves your legs trembling and your vision swimming. You come hard, mouth open in a silent scream, clenching around him until he growls something low and ragged.

“Fuck—fuck, I’m—”

He pulls out just in time, spills hot across your lower back with a sharp groan, hands braced on your hips.

Silence.

Just the sound of your breathing. Of your pulse. Of your pride, curled and wrecked beneath your ribs.

You hear him grab something—napkins from your drawer, probably—and gently wipe you off. He presses a kiss to your spine, right at the base of your neck.

“You okay?”

You nod, dazed.

He helps you up. He adjusts your skirt. He also fixes your hair for you in the reflection of the darkened window.

You glance at the clock.

4:29.

“Fuck you,” you mutter.

“Again?” he smirks.

You push past him and grab your laptop.

“If I’m late, I’m blaming you.”

“You’re glowing,” he says. “No one’s gonna believe you weren’t getting laid.”

You shoot him a look as you open the door.

“That was two, right?” he calls after you.

You don’t answer.

But your smile gives you away.

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