#apologies if the sign for thank you is wrong...

[badkitty3000]

Anonymous asked:

Hi! I love your vivienne and five series of one shots ❤️❤️❤️ I’ve recently re-reading the Sexual Awakening of Five Hargreeves for probably the 7th time (not counting after the second), and the teasing at the end kind of give me an idea. What if Vivienne met up with Five’s former flings, those who are still available like maybe Lacey or Gina?

So, based on this Ask, I have written yet another Five/Vivian one shot! (my apologies/you're welcome). This one focuses on Five running into an old flame, Gina, who is featured in my long fic The Sexual Awakenings of Mr. Number Five Hargreeves. You don't need to read that one prior to this, though, but if you are interested, there's the link.

Thank you again, Anon! I enjoyed thinking about how Five would react to meeting Gina again, and how it would affect Viv, too. Enjoy! ❤️

A Ghost From The Past

Five Hargreeves x Female OC, 8.8k words, one-shot

Summary: A chance meeting with a past lover leaves Five with feelings of guilt and shame. As always, Viv is there to help him navigate them and remind him of the man he really is.

Warnings: Explicit sex, bondage, rough sex, oral sex, a dash of Daddy kink, a sprinkle of praise kink

“Thanks, Fivey, you’re a real life saver,” Klaus said, slapping his hand on Five’s back.

“Don’t mention it,” Five muttered under his breath.

“It’s no problem at all, Klaus. We’re happy to do it,” Viv said, looking pointedly at Five.

The three of them sat on one side of a large desk in a small office inside the City Bank. Five leaned back, one leg crossed over the other as he checked his watch. He sighed loudly.

“Where is this lady? What’s the point of making an appointment if you just have to wait?” Five grumbled.

“It’s only been a few minutes,” Viv pointed out. She patted Five’s knee. “This won’t even take that long. We’ll be in and out before you know it.”

“That’s what he said,” Klaus said with a giggle and Vivian joined him. Five remained sullen.

“Tell me again why you need to buy a car and have us co-sign your loan, Klaus?” Five asked with clear irritation. “What’s wrong with public transportation?”

“Well, my dear brother, not everyone is blessed with your handy mode of instant travel at their disposal. Most of us are forced to use the bus or train, and let me tell you… it’s not as great as it’s cracked up to be. Do you know how many times I have had my good shoes vomited on, or sat in gum or some other mystery substance? More than I can count.”

“How high can you count, out of curiosity?”

Klaus flapped a dismissive hand in Five’s direction. “Having a car would really help me out. And since there’s that pesky thing with needing “good credit” and “a stable income”, that’s where you and Viv come in. You’re my sugar parents!”

Viv laughed again and Five ground his teeth together.

“You know, Klaus, I don’t mind helping you out once in a while, but don’t you think it’s a little sad that you’re over forty and can’t even get your own bank loan to buy a car?”

Klaus thought for a minute and shook his head. “No, not really.”

“And why are we the lucky ones? Why didn’t you ask any of the other morons to help you out? Luther’s usually a sucker.”

Klaus nodded. “Yeah, I did. But Sloane nixed that. Something about me defaulting on the VW van I bought a couple years ago. I don’t know… I think she was overreacting.”

Viv jumped in before Five could add another snarky remark. “Well, this time there won’t be any defaulting and you’ll make monthly payments on time, right Klaus?”

“What?” Klaus asked, raising his head from where he had been concentrating on spinning a glass paperweight on the desk in front of them. “Oh… yeah, yeah. Monthly payments. You got it.”

“Vivie… “ Five started, his voice full of warning.

“Honey, don’t worry,” she said, patting his leg again. “Klaus is trustworthy.”

“Totally!” Klaus added cheerfully.

At that moment, the growing tension was broken by an attractive woman in a smart skirt and blazer bustling in behind them and taking her seat behind the desk. She was on the shorter side with blonde hair, not unlike Vivian’s. Although this woman was curvier and she wore her hair in a twisted knot at the back of her neck.

“I am so sorry I am late,” she gushed. She picked up a folder from her desk and flipped it open, glancing down. “Mr. and Mrs….” she frowned. She clearly had not known their names before opening the file. “Hargreeves?”

Viv smiled and extended her hand. She was used to people recognizing the Hargreeves name. Five and Klaus were still semi-famous from their time as child superheroes. Viv just happened to have adopted the well-known surname through marriage.

“Nice to meet you,” she said to the woman behind the desk.

Oddly, the woman only returned the handshake half-heartedly, still staring down at the folder like she was distracted or in deep thought. Then she looked up and dropped Viv’s hand.

“Five?” she asked.

Five blinked a few times like he was trying to place her but couldn’t. He figured she was just some weird fan that grew up following the Umbrella Academy. He hadn’t been around that long, so most of the time people didn’t recognize him. But occasionally he met someone that claimed he was their favorite.

“That’s right,” he answered, non-committedly.

“Hi, I’m Klaus… Number Four?” Klaus said, standing up and holding out his hand. It was clear he was going to try and play up the Umbrella Academy angle in case that got him some favors from the bank. “I’m the ghost one.”

The woman barely acknowledged him. She just kept staring at Five. Finally, she seemed to snap out of it and she managed a small smile.

“You don’t remember me, do you?” she asked Five.

Five looked at Viv and then Klaus before shaking his head. “No, I’m sorry. You do look familiar, though. We’ve met before?”

The woman gave a small, indignant laugh. “We have. Not surprised you don’t remember, though.” She gestured to the nameplate displayed in the middle of the desk. The one Five had failed to notice during his wait. Once it was pointed out to him and it registered with his brain, he turned white as a sheet.

“Gina?” he said quietly.

“Yeah… small world, huh?” she answered, before sitting down in her chair and laying her palms on the desk in front of her.

“It’s, uh… it’s been a while,” Five stammered.

Viv stared at him in total confusion. She had never seen Five this uncomfortable before. He almost looked scared. Who was this woman?

“You two know each other?” she asked.

Gina smiled in a way Viv wasn’t entirely sure how to interpret. It was almost sincere but there was something off about it.

“Yes, we do,” Gina answered. “We dated a while back.”

Five sat up, rubbing his palms over his thighs in agitation. “Like two dates,” he said to Viv.

Vivian smiled politely, since she wasn’t really sure what else to do. She didn’t care that Five had dated this woman in the past. But the tension in the air could be cut with a knife. There was obviously a story here.

“Well, nice to meet you, Gina. I’m Five’s wife, Vivian.”

She thought she detected a tiny snorting noise from Gina, but she couldn’t be sure. She just received another awkward, tight-lipped smile and then Gina cleared her throat.

“Right, well. Shall we get down to business then? I see you’re here to co-sign on a loan for one Klaus Hargreeves.” She looked at Klaus. “Oh, right… Klaus. I remember you. Two creams, three sugars, right?”

Klaus, who had been observing the whole exchange between Five and Gina with a slightly bemused expression suddenly perked up and he sat up straight. “Oh, holy shit! You’re that Gina! The coffee girl!”

Gina bristled a little. “Barista, actually. And that was when I was working through grad school. I’m a finance director now. In fact, I don’t normally do loan applications, but my co-worker is out sick today.”

“Right, right, of course,” Klaus said. Then his eyes widened and he looked from Five back to Gina, as the light bulb went off and he suddenly remembered their shared history. “Oh… Oh.” He nudged Five with his elbow. “Sorry, Fivey.”

“Jesus,” Five muttered. He looked like he was ready to blink out of his chair.

“Is everything alright?” Viv asked. “Are we able to get this taken care of?”

“Oh yes,” Gina assured her. Then she straightened herself up and started clacking on her computer keyboard. “It shouldn’t take long. Just a few documents to sign and I’ll have you on your way.”

“Great, thank you,” Viv said.

There was more awkward silence and Five fidgeted in his chair. Viv still couldn’t believe how he was acting. He was so unlike his normal confident self. She tried to put a reassuring hand on his knee but he didn’t even acknowledge her, so she took it away.

After another minute, Gina stood up. “I just have to go get the documents off the printer. Be right back.” Before she got up from her desk, she reached over and adjusted the heavy, glass paperweight that Klaus had moved. She was clearly just straightening her desk, but Five visibly flinched.

When Gina was gone, Viv leaned over. “Five, what’s going on? You’re acting really weird. Are you ok?”

Five shook his head and pulled at his shirt collar like it was choking him. “It’s hot in here, right?”

“Not really,” Viv said.

He loosened the knot in his tie. “Shit, I’m… I don’t know… I’ve gotta, “Five stood up, looking around in a panic, like he was trapped. His hands flexed at his sides. “I gotta get out of here.”

Then he blinked away, leaving Viv and Klaus staring at one another, with Five’s empty seat between them. Klaus grimaced.

“What the hell is going on?” Viv asked him.

“I might know a little bit, but I’ll let Five tell you. Just know he didn’t do anything wrong, even though he might think he did.”

“Why would he think he did something wrong?”

Klaus sighed. “Because it’s Five. One little misstep and he thinks the world is ending.” He paused. “Ok, that’s a bad example. But you know what I mean.”

Viv thought for a moment. “I guess. But I’ve never seen him act like that around another woman before.”

Before Klaus could answer, Gina came walking in. She noticed the empty chair.

“Did Five leave?” she asked, and she seemed almost relieved.

“Yes, he wasn’t feeling well,” Viv answered.

“Oh. Well, that’s too bad.” Viv saw a small smirk on the woman’s lips. “Be sure to tell him it was good to see him again.”

Viv gave a terse nod. “I will.”

After another ten minutes of signing documents and more copies, the loan was complete and Viv and Klaus left the bank. When they walked outside, they saw Five sitting on a bench. He looked deep in thought and didn’t look up until they approached him.

“All set?” he asked, his words clipped.

“Yeah, all done,” Viv told him. “Are you ok?”

Five stood up. “I’m fine. Come on, let’s go.”

He started walking towards the car, with Viv and Klaus trailing behind. They exchanged worried looks, but didn’t say anything.

The drive home was mostly silent, broken only by Klaus trying unsuccessfully to lighten the mood. He was sitting in the front passenger seat while Five drove and Viv sat in the back.

Klaus turned to Five. “This reminds me of our road trip. Remember that, Fivey?”

“How could I forget?” Five mumbled.

Klaus turned around so he was facing Viv. “It was great. Five almost got us killed by driving into oncoming traffic, then I almost got myself killed by pissing off a whole slew of Amish folk, and then there were cows…”

Viv laughed. “I heard all about this. Five told me. I wish I could have been there.”

Klaus frowned. “It’s a good thing you weren’t. You probably would have gone the way of the cows… poof… obliterated. Right, Fivey?”

Five nodded. “Yep.”

Klaus and Viv waited for him to say more, even if it was to insult Klaus, but there was nothing. He just went back to driving, staring straight ahead at the road, and gripping the wheel tightly with both hands.

After they dropped Klaus off with a promise that he would buy a sensible car to drive and not a Scooby Doo style van like he threatened, Viv hopped in the front seat and she and Five drove home.

When they got home and Five was still being quiet and distant, Viv started to worry. Normally if he turned in on himself, she knew the reason. Or at least could guess. This time, she had no idea what was going on. Obviously, it had something to do with that Gina woman.

Five had disappeared somewhere in the house, so Viv left him alone for a little while before finding him sitting at his office desk in the dark.

Viv knocked lightly on the door frame. “Can I come in?”

Five nodded. “Sure.”

Viv walked in and stood next to Five, looking down on him. He gazed up at her, his face impassive and unreadable, which was really freaking her out.

“Five, what’s wrong?” she asked, reached out to brush his hair back.

“It’s nothing,” he said flatly.

With a sigh, Viv forced herself between him and the desk and sat on his lap. She didn’t care if he wanted her to or not, she needed him to pay attention to her. He let her settle into him with her legs to the side and her arm around his shoulder. She looked deeply into his eyes.

“Do you still have feelings for that woman?” she asked.

It wasn’t an accusation and if he did, Viv wouldn’t have cared much. It would be natural for anyone to have lingering feelings over an ex. Although, she did think it was odd she had never heard of Gina before. Especially if she was special to Five. All she ever heard about was his long streak of unhealthy sexual encounters. Until she came along.

“No, of course not,” Five spat out. “I barely even recognized her. And like I said, we went on two dates.”

“Well, sometimes that’s enough to develop feelings.”

Five rolled his eyes. “Jesus, Viv. What are you trying to do? Play armchair therapist? I’m fine. Christ.”

Viv was used to his sharp edges that would resurface when he was stressed. He usually kept them in check around her, but his natural tendencies to get angry as a defense mechanism reared up once in a while.

She tried again. “Klaus said there was some kind of story…”

Five tensed. “Klaus is an idiot that has never met a hallucinogenic he didn’t like. Not exactly the most reliable narrator.”

Viv frowned. “Five, you can’t deny something is bothering you.”

“Yeah, something is bothering me. The fact that I can’t go five minutes in this house without you being up my ass about ‘feelings’ and shit.” Viv blanched, but he was unfazed. “You know, not everything is a puzzle for you to solve. Am I not allowed to be in a bad fucking mood just for the hell of it?”

“Well, yeah but—”

“Fuck! Just get off my back, ok?” he barked, turning his head away so she couldn’t look him in the eyes any longer.

Viv had no response to that, so she slid off his lap, defeated. Normally she was a fighter. She had no problem spitting Five’s venom right back at him with equal force, and he knew that. So, when she didn’t have a reply to his outburst, Five didn’t know what to do.

She gave a tiny, sad smile and nodded. Then she turned around without another word, closing the door behind her.

Five spent the next few hours alone. When he finally emerged, the house was dark and Viv had gone to bed. He felt like shit in more ways than one.

Getting into bed next to her, he didn’t pull her into him like he usually did. But he could tell by her breathing that she wasn’t asleep yet. Five laid on his back, staring up at the patterns of flickering moon light on the ceiling.

“I’m sorry,” he confessed softly into the darkness.

Vivian turned on her side, facing him. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

Five hesitated. “No,” he answered honestly.

“Five, you’re really freaking me out here. You have me thinking all kinds of things and I just don’t know… if you just tell me—”

He turned his head to look at her. “I’m sorry, Vivie. I really am.”

“But you’re not going to tell me.”

Five reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She inched in a little closer to him. “I love you, angel. I’m sorry I made you worry.”

“I love you, too, Five, but… you’ve got to give me something. Even if it’s not all of it. Please.”

Five swallowed hard. “Look, I don’t have feelings for her, that I can promise you. But she kind of fucked me up a little in a way I don’t really want to get into right now.” He caressed the side of her face. “Is that enough?”

Viv thought for a second and then she nodded. “For now, I guess so.”

“Thank you, darling,” he said with a sigh before leaning in and kissing her.

She kissed him back, eventually twining her fingers into his hair. Viv still wasn’t sure what was going on, but she knew if she didn’t back off, Five would only build the wall up higher. The best she could do would be to chip away at it, slowly.

Sex was always their mechanism for repair; for reforming their bond and healing wounds. Whether it was stress or an argument or just a feeling of lost connection, fucking was their way of bringing things back to how they should be. It was a solidifier of their love and devotion, no matter what was going on in their domestic lives.

That night was no different, but Viv could sense something was still off. Five wasn’t himself. He was distant and mechanical. His normal fire was gone. Like he was going through the motions just to appease her and get her to stop asking questions. It still felt physically good, but it didn’t ease her mind.

Five fell asleep shortly afterwards and she laid in the dark, staring at his face like there was some answer written there that she just wasn’t seeing. After a while, she gave up and drifted off into her own uneasy sleep.

The next few days were the same. Five didn’t lash out at her anymore, but he also wasn’t his usual self. Vivian stopped prying, hoping he would just come around on his own, but when that didn’t seem like a possibility, she had to resort to a different tactic. One she knew would piss Five off to no end.

She texted Klaus.

Viv: Can you meet me at the coffee shop on 2nd?

Klaus: Depends

Viv: On what?

Klaus: You buying?

Viv: Don’t I always?

Klaus: Good point. I assume this has to do with our familial axe-wielding assassin?

Viv: How did you know?

Klaus: Because that’s the only time you want to meet me for coffee.

Viv: That’s not true!

Klaus: Throw in a muffin and you got a deal.

Viv: Sure. I’ll buy you a stupid muffin.

Klaus: What time?

Viv: 1pm?

Klaus: Let me check my datebook. You’re in luck! I’m free!

Viv: Great. See you then.

Klaus was sort of right in that Viv usually did have some concern about Five she wanted to run past him when she invited her favorite brother-in-law out for coffee. She made a note to herself that she needed to be better about that and hang out with Klaus more just because. Five didn’t always need to be involved. Although, this time, he really did.

As Klaus picked through the blueberries in his muffin, Viv sat on the other side of the small café table and sipped her cappuccino.

Klaus gestured with his hand; a rogue berry pinched between his thumb and forefinger. “So, what’s the story, morning glory?” He popped the berry into his mouth and chewed while he waited.

Viv looked around, as if Five might be planted somewhere in the tiny coffee shop and eavesdropping. She leaned in closer to Klaus.

“You have to tell me what happened with Five and Gina.”

Klaus paused. Then he shook his head. “I don’t know. Didn’t he tell you himself?”

“No, and he’s being really strange. I can’t get any information out of him except that ‘she fucked him up’ whatever that means.”

“Hmmm,” Klaus pondered.

“Plus… “Viv trailed off.

Her hesitancy to finish her sentence piqued Klaus’s interest and he raised his eyebrows. “Plus what?”

She sighed. “Plus, even the sex has been weird. Like he’s just not into it, or he’s holding back, or something. It’s just so unlike him; I don’t get it.”

“Ohhh… so Daddy’s not showing up when he should, huh?”

Viv blushed and took a sip of her drink. “Kind of. But it’s not about the sex. I just want to know what is bothering him, and you know how he is… if I keep asking, he’s going to close up tighter than a nun’s asshole.”

Klaus laughed. “Ok, I can tell you what I know, but it’s not the whole story. He never told me fully, either. And it was years ago and I can barely even remember the name of the guy I woke up next to this morning.”

“That’s fine, whatever you can tell me.”

“Ok, so at the time, Five was living in this real shit hole apartment. Like, we’re talking rats and the whole thing.”

Viv nodded. “Yeah, I know that part.”

“Well, because Mr. High And Mighty is such a coffee snob, he found the one place around him that served decent coffee, and it was a place like this.” He gestured around him.

“Ok…”

“Anyway, he started falling for this barista chick.”

“Gina?”

“Yeah. Crushing real hard.”

Viv was surprised. “Five had a crush? That’s… unexpected.”

“I know, right? But he did. And he was determined to get this girl to like him back.”

“So, he asked her on a date?”

“Sort of. The thing is… this girl was cute, don’t get me wrong, but I met her once and she was boring with a capital B. Total snooze fest.”

“Really? Then why did Five like her?”

Klaus paused. “Well, because she was normal. Nice and cute and normal. Like she walked right out of some catalogue for kitchen appliances or something.”

Viv frowned. “I still don’t get it. Five wouldn’t like someone like that. He hates boring people.”

“Agreed. But at the time, he was going through some shit. Remember, this was before you knocked some sense into him. He was working for the Commission still, he barely talked to us, he was wound up and probably had some major PTSD thanks to some trippy timeline shit… but hey, who didn’t?”

Viv waited for him to continue.

Klaus sighed heavily and leaned back in his chair. “Look, I can’t pretend to know what was going on in that labyrinth of a brain of his, but I can guess. And that is, he just wanted to be normal, too. He would have never admitted it to me or anyone else, but he craved it. The wife, the kids, the picket fence… all that shit you guys have now.”

“And so… he wanted that with Gina?” Viv asked slowly. She hated to admit it, but the thought made her a little queasy.

Klaus shook his head. “I don’t think so. Not really. He just wanted it with someone. And he didn’t think he would ever get that opportunity unless he changed.”

“What do you mean?”

“He suppressed himself. Big time.” Klaus took a bite of his muffin and talked while chewing. “Stuffed all his kinky shit way way down.” He swallowed. “He was ashamed.”

Viv drank some more of her coffee and thought about what she was hearing. “That’s so sad,” she said quietly.

“Well, it’s Fivey, so of course it’s sad. But the truth is, he never really liked her that much. He just wanted HER to like HIM. He wanted to be liked by a,” Klaus made dramatic air quotes, ‘normal’ person. And he thought in order to do that he had to cover up who he really was.”

Viv nodded. “Ok, I can understand that. I mean, it’s insane and of course it’s not true, but I can see that. But I don’t get why this affected him so much? There has to be more to it.”

“That’s where I can only speculate. I don’t know the details, but I do know something went down that she did not care for.”

“Uh oh.”

“Yeah. My guess is mild mannered Bruce Banner let a little too much of the Hulk get out that night.”

Viv fell heavily back into her chair. “Wow. So, this girl did what? Dumped him because he came on too strong?”

“I don’t think she just dumped him. I think she ripped him a new one.”

“Over sex?” Viv asked, surprised. Then she paused. “You don’t think he…”

“No!” Klaus cut in. “No way. Five might have been fucked up in a real big way, but he would never be violent towards women.” Klaus smiled ruefully. “Women he wasn’t hired to kill, that is.”

Viv shuddered. “You’re right, of course he wouldn’t do that. I can’t believe I even thought that.”

“So, there you have it. That’s all I know.”

“Thanks, Klaus. This was really helpful.”

“Hey, you’re not going to tell him I told you all this, are you?”

“No, but I’ve got to bring it up somehow and he’ll probably figure it out.”

Klaus whined and sank down in his chair. “Vivian! He’s going to kill me! And not in a nice, merciful way. He’ll be creative.”

Viv laughed. “I promise I won’t let him kill you, Klaus.”

“You say that, but he once told me he was going to buy us first class tickets to the Yukon Peninsula, roll me up in a fisherman’s net, and set me out to sea on an icefloe.”

“Why first class?” Viv asked through her giggles.

Klaus pouted. “So that the lack of comfort on the icefloe would be more apparent.”

Viv dissolved into hysterics while Klaus folded his arms across his chest. “Just for that, now you have to buy me a slice of cinnamon cake.”

Later that day, Viv found Five at the kitchen table. He was leafing through a book on Italian cuisine.

“Hey,” Viv said, sitting in the chair next to him.

Five looked up. “Hey.”

“Got a minute to talk?” she ventured.

Five closed his eyes with a sigh. But he shut the book and turned his attention to her. “Sure. What’s up?”

She placed her hand on top of his. “I want to talk about what happened with Gina.”

Five groaned and pulled his hand back. “Fuck, Vivie! This again? There’s nothing to tell!”

“That’s not true. You said so yourself.”

Five’s teeth ground together and Viv saw the tell-tale sign of his body tensing and the very faint outline of shimmering blue.

“Don’t you dare blink away from me!” she warned him. “You are going to sit here and talk to me.”

Caught in the act, he powered down and stood up. Viv thought he was going to storm out the old fashioned way, but instead he crossed the kitchen to the liquor cabinet. She watched him pour a tumbler full of bourbon and take a healthy sip of it before offering her one.

“Sure,” she said.

Five came back to the table and set her glass in front of her. He sank back into his chair with a resigned sigh. He took another drink.

“I’m going to just jump to the logical conclusion and assume you talked to Klaus?”

Viv cringed. “Yes, but please don’t be mad at him. I bribed him with baked goods and extracted the information from him. It’s not his fault.”

Five rolled his eyes. “Fine, let’s get this over with.”

“Ok,” Viv said hesitantly. “So, I know you liked Gina and you wanted her to like you.”

“Yeah, that’s usually how that goes,” Five snarked.

Viv did her best not to say something sarcastic in return. “So, what happened? Klaus said maybe you were trying to suppress some things?”

Five grumbled into his bourbon. “Christ.” He took another healthy gulp and then looked at Viv. “Yeah, ok. So, I wasn’t really myself with her. Not like…” Viv waited. “Not like when you and I met.”

She nodded. “You weren’t trying to be the aggressor in bed?”

“God, I really don’t want to talk about this with you,” he protested, running an aggravated hand through his hair.

“Five, please.”

“Fuck… you’re like a dog with a bone,” he murmured. “Ok, here it is. You’ve been warned.” Five stood up, too agitated to sit anymore. He slugged down the rest of the bourbon and went to get another pour. He talked to Viv with his back turned to her.

“Yes, I was trying to suppress some things. Things I didn’t want her to know about me. About… my weird bedroom shit. And it worked the first night and things went well until the next night.”

Five turned around, another full glass in his hand. “The next night, I guess I let my inner demons out just a little too much and she got scared.”

“What did you do?” Viv asked warily.

Five smiled bitterly and gestured with his glass. “Oh, you know. The usual things. Ordered her on her knees, told her to suck my dick. Said I was going to ruin her. Stuff like that.”

Viv felt a wave of jealousy pass through her and it must have been obvious because Five set his glass down and his expression softened. “I’m sorry, Vivie. I shouldn’t have told you that.”

Viv held up a hand. “No, it’s ok. I wanted to know. It’s just hard to hear, you know?”

Five nodded. He did know. If Vivian ever told him in detail what she did with another man before they were together, he would probably have a complete mental breakdown. After he hunted the guy down and slaughtered him in cold blood, of course.

She took a deep breath. “So, then what? She got pissed?”

Five snorted. “That’s an understatement.”

“What happened?”

“Well, let’s see. She accused me of luring her in with a nice guy routine, told me I treated her like a whore, called me a freak, and then threw a few mugs and a frying pan at my head until I left.”

Viv gasped. “Five! That’s awful!”

He shrugged, taking another drink. “She thought I was going to hit her or rape her or something, which obviously I would never do. But, yeah. I probably had it coming.”

Viv got up and went to where he was standing. “Of course you didn’t deserve that! Is that what you have been thinking this whole time?”

He shook his head dismissively. “It doesn’t matter. It was so long ago.” He gave another sarcastic laugh. “Her loss, right?”

“Baby, look at me,” she said sternly. Five relented and looked her in the eyes. “You are not a freak. You are not a pervert. And you certainly aren’t some violent sex criminal.”

He smiled placatingly. “Ok, darling.”

“No, I mean it. Listen to me, Five.” She took his face gently with both of her hands and held them there. “You are my husband. You are the love of my life. You are a god damn time traveling genius! That’s who you are. Not whatever one uptight bitch told you.”

Five swallowed hard. The booze had kicked in and he was finally buzzed enough to let his guard down a little.

“But I did trick her, that’s the thing. I tried to keep all of that down. Tried to be the nice guy. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t be normal. Not even for two fucking nights.”

“Why do you think you’re not normal? Because you like to have rough sex? Because you have a couple of kinks? You like to be dominant?”

“Vivie, you have to understand. I was really messed up back then. I didn’t think I was capable of a real relationship with anyone. That was the first time I even entertained the idea that maybe I could be. And then when all of that happened, it reinforced the fact that I just wasn’t built that way.”

Viv ran her hands over his shoulders and down his arms. “But, Five, look at you now. You are built that way.”

He stroked her hair softly and smiled. “Because of you.”

“Because we were right for each other. You didn’t have to hide anything from me.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I hid everything from you.”

Viv grinned. “Ok, sure, that’s true. But I’m talking about sex. You let me know right away who you were and what you wanted. And that’s a good thing.”

Five became serious again. “After I saw her the other day at the bank… all I could see was her hurling shit at me and telling me what a freak I was. All of those bad feelings came flooding back again. And then I thought… I wonder how many other women are out there remembering me in the same way?”

“Probably zero.”

He shook his head. “When I think about how I acted sometimes... sleeping with these women, being rough with them, sometimes blinking away with no goodbye… god, I was such an asshole.”

“Is that why you haven’t been yourself these past couple days? Because you feel guilty?”

“I don’t fucking know,” he sighed before turning around to fill up his glass again. “Guilt, regret, shame… whatever. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

Viv waited a few seconds, but when Five didn’t turn around, she looped her arms around his waist.

“You’re right, it doesn’t matter anymore. Because you’re mine, Five. I love you for everything that you are.” She laughed and pressed her cheek against his back. “Especially your freaky side.”

“I think you’re even freakier than me,” Five chuckled.

Viv slid her hands up to his neck, lacing her fingers into his hair, tugging on it just a little. “I think you’re right.”

Five turned around, a slanted smile playing on his lips as he leaned his back against the countertop and Viv pressed herself against him.

“I gotta tell you… that first night, when you were all confident and cocky, ordering me on my hands and knees, and fucking me until I thought I was going to break…” Viv took a stuttering breath in. “I had never been so turned on in my entire life.” She ran her hands over his chest and down his abdomen, clutching onto the waistband of his pants.

“Yeah?” Five asked slyly.

Viv nodded. “If you had tried to be someone else, or what you call ‘normal’… I wouldn’t have fallen in love with you right then and there.” She smiled at the memory. “You made me yours right from the start, Five, and I would have done anything for you.” She let her hands travel further south, over his hips and thighs and back up to his waist again. “I still would.”

Five felt that familiar, feral itch creeping in again. It trickled down his spine in a low-voltage surge of lust and depravity. It flowed through his veins, hot and insistent, refusing to be ignored, until his breath caught in his throat and his dick came alive with an uncontrollable vengeance. His dark green eyes flashed as they swept over her face, lingering on those lips that he knew were only for him.

Neither of them said anything, but Viv began to unbuckle his belt while he kept his eyes on her. When she slowly pulled it out from his pants, she held it up to him with two hands, like an offering. He took the belt from her, folding it in half and snapping it sharply with a loud crack. One corner of his mouth twitched up.

“If you want me to hold back, tell me now, my love,” he warned darkly. He dragged the flat of the leather down her arm, making her shiver.

Viv met his gaze with no hesitation. “Don’t ever hold back on me.”

Five chuckled darkly. “You are so fucked. You know that, don’t you, angel?”

He didn’t wait for an answer; he didn’t have to. With a hand clasped firmly around her upper arm Five blinked them both to their bedroom. He set the belt on the bed before pulling Viv’s shirt over her head with a hard yank, forcing her arms up. He practically ripped her bra off, throwing it onto the floor. Her pants and underwear were shoved down just as forcefully.

She made no sign of resistance. Her breathing grew harder and louder as she gazed up at him with adoring eyes.

Five went to the closet, pulling out two things. One of his black, silk ties, and a pair of Viv’s black stilettos.

He laid the shoes in front of her with a look that required no words. She stepped quietly into them. Next, Five crossed to the dresser, grabbing a tube of her lipstick. A small smile crept over Viv’s face when he handed it to her. She knew what he wanted and she applied the bright red shade over her perfectly bowed lips while he watched.

“Turn around,” he ordered when she was done.

She did as she was told, turning around so her back was to him. Viv’s arms were pulled forcibly back. Five held her wrists together with one hand while he picked up the belt again and maneuvered it around each wrist, threading the end through the buckle and pulling it tight. Her wrists were bound at the small of her back and he spun her around again by the shoulders.

He smiled at the sight of her, naked and vulnerable, with her hands trapped behind her back. Five leaned in and kissed her, a hand on her chin. He traced her bottom lip with his tongue, feeling the waxy smoothness of the lipstick before pulling away, leaving her breathless.

Grabbing the tie, he held it up and kissed her cheek lightly, while covering her eyes with the black silk and tying the ends tightly behind her head. Viv drew in a small gasp of air, but she didn’t say a word. Five stood back to admire her.

“God damn it…” he said breathily. “You’re the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen. And I’m going to absolutely destroy you.”

Five traced his hands down her sides and up again, lingering on her breasts and lightly pinching her nipples with his fingers. Viv was completely helpless. She couldn’t move much without risking losing her balance and she couldn’t anticipate any of his moves with the blindfold on. She was at his mercy. And when he kissed her, hard and rough with a hand securely behind her neck, pressing his body against hers, she moaned out loud.

Five’s hand slipped between her legs while he kissed the side of her neck. With a low groan, he slid them back and forth, spreading her wetness up to her already-swollen clit. Her hips bucked forward and her head tipped back.

He withdrew his hand again and Viv was left desperate for more. He was no longer touching her and she couldn’t see what he was doing. There was the sound of his pants being unzipped and the rustle of clothes. Then she felt his strong hand on her shoulder.

“Be a good girl for Daddy. On your knees.”

Then she was being forced down; her knees bending until she was on the floor in front of him. He held her in place by her shoulder so she didn’t lose her balance. She raised her face upwards and Five grabbed a fistful of hair, tugging her head back even more.

“Open your mouth,” he told her.

Viv obeyed, opening her mouth and sticking out her tongue as Five grasped his hard shaft in his other hand and guided it towards her. He tapped the head on her tongue and she gave it a quick lick.

“Shit,” he gritted out between his teeth. “That’s my girl. Go ahead, darling.”

When her mouth closed around his cock, and he pushed her face towards him, he let out a long hiss. Viv made little high-pitched moans while he let her set the pace. He held onto the back of her head while she worked her magic, sliding her mouth and tongue over his shaft while he jutted his hips into her.

Five could barely stand watching her, she was so perfect. His beautiful, sweet, loving wife that was on her knees, bound and blindfolded, sucking his dick while he fucked her face, like it was the most natural thing in the world. The red stain of her lipstick covered his cock with each pass and smeared over her mouth in the process and she moaned every time he praised her. It was all of his kinks happening at once and he felt dizzy just from the erotic overload.

She really would do anything for me, he thought.  How the fuck did I get so lucky?

He let his head fall back and he closed his eyes. “Thank you,” he breathed out, his voice shaking.

Whether he was thanking some unnamed sex god that somehow determined he was worthy of this divine intervention, or Vivian who was currently choking and gagging as he rammed his dick into the back of her throat, remained unclear. But he had to thank someone because this was un-fucking-believable.

In an effort to not get so carried away, and to move on to other things, Five let go of Viv’s hair. She remained kneeling in front of him while he backed off, allowing her to catch her breath. She licked at the sides of her mouth and a small string of saliva trailed down her chin. Five wiped it away gently with his thumb.

“You ok?” he asked her.

She nodded, breathing hard. “Yes, I’m fine.”

Five grinned. “Good.” He reached down, taking her upper arm again, helping to guide her up so she was standing again. Her high heels clicked on the floor and Five took another good look at her. He kissed her, making her stumble a little into him. He steadied her with his hands on her hips, then let them wander around to her ass and squeezing it hard. Viv squeaked quietly against his mouth.

When Five pulled away from his kiss, he brushed her hair off of her shoulder and moved his lips to her neck, listening to her small gasp when he gave her a quick bite into the hollow curve of her collarbone.

“You’re being so quiet, my love,” he teased, his hand coming up and lightly encircling her throat. “You’re trying so hard to be good for me, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” she answered, breathing sharply through her nose as Five’s hand tightened slightly.

“I do like that,” Five whispered with a smirk. Then he took his other hand and smacked her ass with enough strength to almost buckle her knees. She cried out. “I like hearing you scream for me, too, though.”

Five dragged one hand down her chest and over her stomach. His other hand continued to wrap around her throat. He watched each flicker of movement on her face, and took in each gasp and quiet whimper she uttered. When his fingers slipped between her legs, he let out a long moan along with her, just from the look of absolute surrender on her face.

“Five,” she moaned, rocking her hips into him.

He worked his fingers through her wetness and over her clit, slowly and deliberately. He wanted to watch her come apart bit by bit.

Five leaned in, drawing his lips over her jaw, neck, and shoulder. He would tighten and then loosen his grip on her throat in the process, listening to the change in her breathing.

“Tell me, angel,” he said darkly. “Do you trust me?”

Viv nodded between mewling cries and breathless sobs. “I trust you.”

Five didn’t need to ask anything more. He bent her over the bed, lowering her down by her arms and making sure she didn’t hurt herself. Her face was turned with her cheek pressed into the mattress. She was even more helpless this way. She couldn’t move, couldn’t see. She moaned again when he spread her legs from behind, nudging them apart with his knees.

He didn’t touch her for a minute; just stood back and took it all in. Viv was gasping for air and trying to get out of her wrist restraints. He liked watching her panic a little bit. She had no idea what he was doing, or even where he was in relation to her. She made a little whining noise of frustration and Five chuckled.

“I know, darling, I know,” he said. “You did say you trusted me, though. Have patience.”

“Five,” she whined again. “Please!”

That made Five laugh darkly. He traced a hand down her spine and over her ass, the sudden sensation of his touch causing her to jolt and then whimper. He lowered himself over her, holding himself up on the bed, while his body followed the curve of her back beneath him. His dick slid between her folds, but he didn’t enter her. He kissed her shoulders and then her cheek.

Viv could feel his lips on her body, and that familiar feral current that pulsed out of him. The weight of his strong body trapped her underneath him. Her arms and shoulders ached, her feet were unsteady in the heels, and her face was smashed into their bed. She only saw darkness beneath the tie that still bore his scent from the last time he wore it. But she would have waited there forever for him.

She was wriggling against her bonds and begging for him, but that was all part of their intricate dance that both of them knew so well. Five wanted her to beg. To plead and cry for him. And Viv did want him. She wanted him so badly it hurt.

“What do you think, sweet girl?” he purred into her hair as he moved the head of his cock through her slit. “Do you want me?”

“Yes!” she whined.

“Then tell me,” he demanded. “I need to hear it.”

Viv couldn’t see his face, but she could hear the slight break in his façade. This wasn’t just an act of dominance. This was a plea for validation. A reassurance that she wanted him this way; the only way he knew how to be.

“Please, Five,” she begged. “I need you to fuck me.”

He groaned and nuzzled his nose against her jaw. “I love that,” he confessed quietly. “Come on, baby… give me more.”

“Fuck me hard, Five. I want you inside me. Please… you’re all I need.”

“Fuuuck,” he breathed out in resignation, unable to resist any longer.

When he entered her, carefully but all in one push, he rested a hand on her back. The other grasped her wrists and he pulled back with a sharp tug, hoisting her body off the bed before he let her go again and she sank back down.

The long, guttural groans that left his body while he pumped into her mixed with the sharp slap of his hips against her ass. Viv let out a choked sob, biting at her lower lip, while trying to push her ass back towards him.

“Deeper,” she moaned. He pulled her arms back again and he rammed into her. “Deeper, Five!,” she cried out, almost as a hysterical scream. “I need it!”

Five had known, even at the beginning of all of this, that he wasn’t going to be able to keep her bound up. At some point he was going to break and he was going to want to feel her hands on him and gaze into her eyes while he made her come.

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath, before pulling all of the way out.

He hastily undid the belt around her wrists before helping her stand upright again. He untied the blindfold and threw it on the floor before turning her around. She blinked into the dim light of the bedroom and rubbed at her wrists.

“One of these days I’m not going to untie you,” he warned with a small grin. “But today isn’t that day.”

Five flipped her back onto the bed by grasping her under her thighs and throwing her onto her back. He immediately climbed over her and smoothed the tangled hair from her face. She smiled up at him.

“Give it to me, Daddy.”

He drove himself deep inside of her, raising one of her legs up and setting her ankle on his shoulder, her black stiletto brushing his cheek. He kissed her ankle before shoving himself inside of her again. Over and over, he thrust deeply and fully into her while her mouth fell open and she choked on her screams.

Five kissed her, hard and passionately, smearing what was left of her lipstick so that equal parts were on his face as well as hers. He rested his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. The rhythm of his fucking rocked the bed until the headboard began banging against the wall, keeping time with his ragged breath.

“Vivie,” he exhaled before opening his eyes and looking into hers. “Tell me. Please.”

He didn’t have to say what he wanted. She already knew.

“I love you, Number Five,” she told him softly and earnestly, even as her nails raked down his back, leaving red tracks that would stay for days. “I am yours and only yours. Forever.”

“Oh god… baby, I love you… “he moaned out.

With one more vicious slam of his cock inside her, Five came hard and fast, filling her up while he clung to her body. Viv followed a second later, digging her nails even harder into his shoulder blades and screaming his name.

After a few moments, when Five regained use of his brain again, he lowered her leg from his shoulder, and settled in next to her. He pulled her body flush with his so they were facing one another and he kissed her lovingly. Viv rested her hand on his cheek and smiled.

“That’s the man I fell in love with. The one that doesn’t hold anything back.”

“How do you always know what to say or do to make me start thinking clearly again?” he asked, sweeping her hair off her neck.

“You mean besides blowing you on demand?” she teased.

“Yes, besides that,” he answered with a smile. “Although, that certainly helps.”

Viv kissed him again. “Because it’s like I said. I would do anything for you. And part of that is reminding you who you are.” She rubbed her thumb at a smudge of lipstick at the corner of his mouth.

“And who am I?” he asked sincerely.

“You’re sexy and brilliant and strong and scary. You’re a million things, but most importantly, you are mine.”

Five thought for a second and he grinned before holding her closer. “Thank you for the reminder. I promise I won’t forget again.”

She threw her leg over his hip and laughed. “Good. Because I can’t keep running to Klaus every time I need some advice.”

Five frowned. “Please don’t bring up my idiot brother when you’re rubbing your naked body against me. I’m afraid some weird association is going to develop.”

Viv rubbed herself harder onto him. “You mean like you if hear Klaus’s name and then you get a boner?” She grabbed his ass roughly and thrust herself into him. “Klaus Klaus Klaus.”

“Vivie…” Five groaned exasperatedly. “Why? Why must you ruin this good time?”

She started giggling uncontrollably. “Are you going to send me off to sea on an icefloe?”

Five grinned before dragging her on top of him and grabbing the back of her head to pull her face down. He kissed her hard before drawing back and staring fiercely into her eyes.

“The idea is tempting, I won’t lie.”

Viv straddled him and pushed herself down, making him grunt. “You’d miss me too much.”

Five smirked. “I’d probably get over it after a while.”

Viv pretended to be shocked and she whacked him on the chest. “Liar!”

Five kissed her again, slipping his tongue inside and lifting his hips up. “You’re right. No one else could get me this hard again this fast.”

With a smile, Viv combed his hair back with her fingers and kissed him, already hungry for more. “That’s because we match each other’s freaks, as the kids say.”

Five grabbed her hips. “Is that another way of saying there’s a lid for every pot?”

“Something like that. Just a kinkier version.”

As he tipped his head back to let his wife kiss down his neck and under his jaw, Five let out a long, relieved sigh. He probably should have had a witty, sarcastic response to that, but he found he was too wrapped up in the feeling of her lips on his skin, and her hair falling around his face to come up with anything good. Instead, he just let her do her thing, all while thanking the universe for letting him find the perfect fitting lid for his worn-out, scratched and dented, imperfect pot.

[mys0419]

Two of my fav scenes from this AMAZING fic made by @citrinegator ! Please go ahead and check it out if you haven't done so already. This is legitimately my favorite tf2 fic atm!

B&W versions v v v

[birdmenmanga]

LMAO my taxi driver apologized for being wrong about my Chinese zodiac sign

[izzy-b-hands]

At what point do i stop bothering to differentiate between the panic and anxiety attacks when they just. meld into each other and seemingly feed off each other

[the-hanged-mans-ghost]

vent-ish rambling in the notes ig bc I can't think and my brain is fuzzy but I have Thoughts

[goldenhourology]

SLACKING OFF.

pairing: jeon wonwoo x f!reader

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

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

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

word count: 19.2k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And there was Wonwoo to save the day yet again.

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

You [10:58 AM]: I screwed up

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jeon Wonwoo [9:46 AM]: Crap.

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

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

Jeon Wonwoo [9:50 AM]: Listen.

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

Jeon Wonwoo [9:50 AM]: I’m sorry.

You [9:51 AM]: Wow

Jeon Wonwoo [9:51 AM]: What?

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

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

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

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

You [10:01 AM]: Okay, you’re forgiven

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yeah, you thought to yourself, he is handsome.

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

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

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

“You don’t have to keep apologizing.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You [12:15 PM]: SOLD

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

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

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

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

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

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

You.

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

And that’s when things got dangerous.

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

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

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

Maybe he was a loser.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wonwoo glanced at his monitor. 67% finished.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s different.”

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

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

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

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

You were just so … captivating.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Could it really have meant nothing to you?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The answer was simple: alcohol.

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

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

Jeon Wonwoo [11:39 AM]: Don’t ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your brow furrowed. “Who’s Mingyu?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s never stopped you before.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Who the hell are you?”

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

“Oh,” you cleared your throat. “Um …”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You: DRINK WATER

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

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

Wonwoo: Everyone likes Mingyu

You: well, I like you [UNSENT]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just Wonwoo. Just Wonwoo. Just … your Wonwoo.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe tonight was the night you had fun for once.

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

Just Wonwoo.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So, so much.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But now you’re kissing again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So why were suddenly terrified to see him at breakfast?

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

“Is this … seat taken?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He chuckled. “Yeah, that part.”

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

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

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

“Yes,” he beamed. “Always, yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Catching feelings like this meant giving up control.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I have no idea what you’re –”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

“Say you want me inside you.”

“This is ridiculous –”

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

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

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

You liked everything about him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

TUESDAY, APRIL 22

Wonwoo: What’s going on?

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

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

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

Wonwoo: You’re not dead, right?

Wonwoo: Please, answer me.

FRIDAY, APRIL 25

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jeon Wonwoo is now offline.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your mouth opened, and then closed. 

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

“Wonwoo –” You started.

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

But you interrupted before he could finish.

“I love you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[madamechrissy]

Baby You're a Star

Art in the banner by Kerravi on x!

Summary- You meet Satoru Gojo at a wild Hollywood party, insanely out of place, waiting for your friend to show up. The two of you hit it off, spending time together, and share a kiss, but you're a good girl, and you just don't do this, but he is the top pornstar there is, and the top .01 % on OnlyFans. Once you find out, you know there's probably no match, as Satoru doesn't date, and you don't sleep around, but after meeting, you keep in touch- and soon Satoru can't get hard without thinking of you, and you get over curious, and join a livestream of the boy you like. Just how will that go for you both!?

Warnings- emotional, lots of feelings, regrets, mentions of depression (reader) mentions of each other's past, MUCH fluffier than the last one, slow burn is still being a slow burn, character development (we love to see it) and some kissing/making out, sexual tension WC this chap- 10k

A/N- Taglist closed- please comment/rb if you enjoy <3

<<<Chapter Five - Masterlist- Playlist- Chapter Seven>>> (coming soon)

Chapter Six

“I need a change of career.” He says again, and his manager sighs, shaking their head, as one of the directors comes up.

“Modeling, I have an agency.” He hands Satoru a card, and Satoru’s manager covers his face for a moment.

“Like nude modeling?” Satoru asks.

“Sure, or any kind, look at your bone structure? You’d make good money.” Satoru holds the card, flipping it around.

He was always a pornstar, for his adult life.

Can he do more than that?

He has more than enough money to damn near retire.

But how the fuck could he get you to forgive him for what he did, how could he ever get you back? Now that he realizes there is no one in the world for him but the girl he’s wronged. The one who doesn’t even realize how much he cares, because he’s not even said it, never articulated it. The girl who now wants nothing to do with him, how does he just let that go?

“Some people get burnt out,” Satoru’s manager mumbles, putting a hand on Satoru’s shoulder then. “Modeling huh, I’ll get some contacts together, and we’ll see about some different shoots for you.”

Satoru exhales in relief, what once felt like a perfect career truly felt like a fucking prison now. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah, put on some fucking clothes.” Satoru smiles a bit, heading to the dressing room, looking at your name, your picture.

The sweet one with your big glasses, with your little peace sign, a sweet innocent thing he fell for, that he selfishly let be corrupted by his own needs and desires. And now he can’t help but have his own regrets, remembering you that night, the anger on your face, the way you kissed him anyway, the way you bit his lip so angry, dressed so fucking slutty that night.

He’d changed you, possibly forever, and you changed him, in ways you didn’t even fucking know. How the fuck can he just let you go?

*****

Six months since you said goodbye to Satoru Gojo

Being without Satoru made you realize how empty you were before him, god how much you miss him - how horrible you feel for sending away the man you love. How stupid you feel, there are so many times you look at his number, you changed his name to just Satoru now. Once, you got drunk and texted him, panicking when you realized that you had.

I am sorry.

That was the text, not some nude or something madly embarrassing, it was a simple apology. He’d written back to you the next day.

Don’t apologize.

That alone broke you down further, there was so much beauty in Satoru Gojo, so much sweetness there that you miss so desperately. How can you not miss him, the images spilling through your mind of Satoru behind you in that mirror - both times he had been. One at that club under heady lights, pleasuring you and whispering desperate in your ear- the other him being tender, sweet, caring.

That was the duality of him - the moments he broke down, and you saw so much more you wanted to know. Peel the layers back of who he was- ultimately, you didn’t know him any more than he knew you. It’s a reason you’re beating yourself up internally, wondering if you put too much on him.

But the love confessions that spilled from your lips?

You meant every word.

It didn’t matter that you didn’t know him completely yet, it was everything you felt from the moment he caught your eyes at the party. It was everything about him, how your lips felt against his, how you felt when he looked at you with those eyes - so beautiful, special, loved by his actions. Did the words matter so much?

They did matter to you, or you wouldn’t have pulled back. The days go by, the weeks go on, the months pass - it’s fall in LA now, it’s lovely and in the seventies, you’re just stuck inside today. Many, many days you do this, wallow in front of your couch, watch the same movies on repeat, over and over, falling asleep and dreaming of him, only to wake up from it and realize it’s gone.

The fact that you did this to yourself hurts more, that you pushed him away to find yourself, but are you finding yourself? You changed in ways you can’t go back to, you changed for him but also because of him, you’re just not the same girl. As you watch Casablanca for the millionth time, and Humprhey Bogart tilts up Ingrid Bergman’s chin, you’re in a mess of tears like you’ve never seen it.

You’ll always love him, won’t you?

You ended up cutting back graphic design hours, and soon you were dabbling more in photography. Though you had done a couple shoots with Jenna, you wanted to dabble in much more. Through some pretty good connections with the company you ended up quickly making a name for yourself, the money was good and you were diving into something full on.

The distraction was so needed for everything in your life, you know that you need to focus on something and maybe the pain will lessen from losing Satoru. You always wonder if he’s okay, if he’s doing well, you can’t help but ask yourself at times. Jenna ended up telling you he called that night, and for a while you were upset she didn’t let you talk to him.

But you think you understand, she just cares a lot. But to see you like this, still after months - shit, half a year - she mentions it again.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you said last night. “I just… can’t.”

“I did hear he left the industry, shut down his OF,” she murmurs, eyeing the mess you are on the couch and frowning, she’s asked to clean for you numerous times, but you always refuse.

Your house is spotless, but your couch is where it’s real, the pain, the hopelessness you feel.

“I wonder if I was too harsh.” She says, her words surprising you then.

“Maybe you were, but it’s for the best I suppose.” You cuddle a plushie, resting your chin on it and sighing. “Even without the profession, I don’t know if he returned my feelings.”

So that was where the two of you left it. Even if Jenna should have let you talk to him and didn’t hide it, nothing had changed from that fact. Nothing changed when you told him you loved him, and all he said in return was that he wanted you. The feelings couldn’t align themselves.

The past six months were a blur, parts where you’re enthusiastic and so energetic, and many parts where you’re devastated and lethargic. The pain of not having him rips your soul apart, everything feels wrong about not being in his arms, you second guess yourself constantly.

Should you have kept it all going, should you have just let it be physical and held back your feelings? You could have been some OF power couple, in his arms and earning his praise - being his star. Sometimes you wonder if you were more okay with filming than you thought, and it scared you - but another part knows that just isn’t who you are.

You don’t touch yourself and think of him, you just don’t touch yourself at all, there’s nothing to be turned on about anymore. It’s like it was before you met him, except even little books and smut stories do nothing for you. All you picture is him in everything you read, to the point you find no joy in it, another thing about you fading in the haze of depression.

You know you’ve taken it too seriously, the feelings, the moments, the nights in his arms. You’ve let it consume you, and though you maybe ‘know yourself’ better from this, it doesn’t make it any happier, any easier. Every night you think of calling him, of just talking to him, but there could never be ‘just friends’ with him. You’re too deep in your feelings.

You want him in your life, so badly and tangibly, and it can’t just be fleeting - if it were, why is it still here, half a year later? Why does he dance through your fucking mind on repeat, living in your brain rent free, his big grin and just how sweet he was when you two were together. The way his hand caressed your cheek, you can still feel it there when you touch it.

When you look at the mirror you just look tired, the sparkle isn’t in your eyes, the color isn’t there, you brush on a little blush and add some mascara before a really big shoot, to look human. You practice a smile, you are truly excited, it’s a big opportunity for a huge magazine, and the first truly big one for you. You just have to shove down the gnawing feeling that’s always there.

Did you really make the right decision letting him go? Couldn’t you have tried to hear him out, to give him the chance?

The thoughts race as you head to the shoot, but when don’t they? When don’t you second guess your actions, wishing you’d been more upfront to begin with. Maybe Satoru didn’t know you fell in love, or maybe he didn’t believe it, maybe that wasn’t something he was ready for. You shove the thoughts back as you meet everyone, and that’s when you see him.

A head taller than everyone, the pretty face of the man you fell for, he’s wearing some insanely expensive suit opened up at the chest, buttoned down enough to show his bare chest, chiseled and cut as you remember. He isn’t smiling brightly, but he has a little tight curve to those plump lips, as he runs a hand through locks that look just a little lavender under the lights.

Your heart stops in your chest as the director calls you over, and his eyes catch yours, just like that night. His lips part just so, hands tensing at his sides, blinking snowy lashes so quickly like you’re an illusion. Your pulse races in your ears, you expected to hurt when you saw him again, you imagined you’d pass him by in a street one day perhaps.

But you didn’t expect the tenderness, the way you just want to hold his hand in yours is so vivid you barely bite back your emotions. You plaster on that smile, as you introduce yourself, and the girl with him is so sweet as she shakes your hand. The director explains the vision to you, as the people help decorate the set, and you’re finally there with Satoru.

He just stands there, staring at you so intensely, you feel it like a touch, you look down nervously, fiddling with your hands in front of yourself, as he drinks in the sight in front of him. “Still biting that lip,” he murmurs softly, you gasp a bit at it, eyes locking then. “You’ll have permanent marks there.”

“I think I already do,” your voice feels too good to his ears, it makes him ache as you speak, smiling so nervous, very much the girl he met that night. The different girl who just made everything stop, and you still have that effect on him, you still after all this time make his heart race. “You look amazing.”

“Makeup is weird,” you laugh softly, the sound like a punch to the gut for him. Just that sound alone, he’s missed so vividly, he realizes it then, how much he missed every part of you. It wasn’t just that desire for your body, though that’s there, it was little things like how the lights are hitting your hair, how your smile breaks his heart. “I really wanted to…”

“Me too.” You manage, the both of you don’t say it, not when you’re being pulled in different directions for a moment, but you feel it, everything he doesn’t say.

He missed you too. You can feel it. You can feel him, so close, his scent in your nostrils, the familiar cologne that you miss. He’s talented already, the poses he makes are beyond someone in this for a few months, impressive as he works everything, every angle so well. You can’t help but be so happy for him, to see him like this.

You know he enjoyed porn surely, but you remember the calls and demands stressing him out, it seems he’s a little more natural at this, a little awkward here and there when you’d ask him to touch the model and interact. But he picked up on that as well, you hear that most of his shoots were alone so far, so this was a huge one for him too.

To get a cover of this magazine was something anyone would covet, you can’t help but feel proud of him, smiling as you snap photos. Not a fake smile, a real one, for the first time in so long, knowing he was okay, knowing how badly you needed the reassurance that he was. Your heart aches deeper, ever deeper while you watch him look at your camera, smiling just so.

He’s heartbreakingly beautiful behind your lens.

Satoru struggles to focus on what you say, on anything, when you’re in there with him, when all he can think of is how badly he wants to hold you in his arms again. Things just were different now, like a piece of him was missing constantly, for a moment the void is full by just seeing you. He always wondered if you were good, if you were doing better, not getting hurt by him anymore.

Then he thought other things, of wildly showing up to your house, of begging you on his knees to take him back. Of asking you out truly and not whatever foolish shit he said to you. ‘A friend’ you were never just that, not from the moment he blew that smoke into your mouth and you trusted him so implicitly. The moment you left him was still the hardest blow he’s had.

A couple weeks hurt him more than the years with his only other girlfriend, and you two weren’t even ‘together’. But it hurt more than anything he could even try to explain, the thoughts racing constantly. Could he have said more, given you more, the longing is so tangible it takes his breath, while you work on posing them again, and take some shots from different angles.

“Tilt her chin up just a bit,” you murmur softly, as Satoru’s bright, swirling blue eyes look right at you, rather than the pretty model in front of him, and it’s like you can feel his touch, as if it’s your chin he’s gripping. “Look at her lips.”

You give a gentle direction, clearly pointing out the obvious, that Satoru can’t get his eyes off the girl he hasn’t seen in months, the one he dreams of every night. How can he see anyone else in the room? With a giant, fancy black canon camera, you bend down, snapping a picture, he stares in his peripherals as you do, then you’re on your knees, getting another angle.

He has wondered how you were, god he didn’t want to ruin your life any further, but being this close to you makes him ache, in so many ways. How your hair falls over your shoulder, how you angle your head to study them, now walking up and smiling, turning the model so she faces away from him. You brush her hair forward over a shoulder, taking Satoru’s hand then.

That’s when he feels it, like a shock rushing through him as you pause for a moment, giving him a sweet, sad little smile. “Touch her waist,” you put his hand there, and take her hand now, turning her. “And you look at him like this… perfect.”

You walk back to take another few photos, and you thought maybe after so long it wouldn’t hurt, but it does, like a fresh wound opening. You’re so proud of him for being at this quality of a shoot, but you can’t help but wish you were the one in his arms, even now. There’s not one night in the past months that he hasn’t haunted one of your thoughts - all of the what-ifs.

The shoot wraps up and everyone chit chats for a bit, you’re packing your camera up in your bag when he steps up to you, that black dress shirt half tucked in and unbuttoned, showing too much of a perfectly sculpted body made for modeling. You feel your cheeks heat up as you trail your eyes up and catch his boring into you the way that only he can.

“You’re a photographer now?” He asks softly, his tone is just so different from last time, from the cocky and conceited man, the smirk on his face replaced with parted lips, eyes studying you so intensely. You nod a bit. “That’s so badass, look at you.”

“Look at me, you’re modeling now.” You say softly, smiling up at him as his hand goes to touch your cheek, but pauses, knowing it’s not his place to do so.

Were you with anyone? Did someone treat you like you deserved?

Even if you were, god he just missed you, the presence, the lingering sweet scent in the air - those cupcakes you always smelled like, intoxicating. To imagine caressing your cheek he sees tint with color, to hear your little laugh again, rather than the tears he left you in. He clears his throat, letting his hand fall, flexing his fingers open as he sighs.

“I am… I don’t do… I changed careers.” He manages to say softly, you blink a bit in surprise at that.

“You don’t do um,” you trail off, clearing your throat. “You don’t shoot at all?” You’d heard rumors from Jenna that he quit, but she wasn’t sure if it was true. You hate the relief you feel when you shouldn’t. He shakes his head now, bringing you back. “Do you miss it?”

“No, it wasn’t for me anymore.” His voice gets husky, stepping just a bit closer as the workers take apart the set, but everything fades but him.

It’s always like this, the never ending need for him.

You feel like half your heart is standing right in front of you.

“Do you enjoy modeling, Satoru?” To hear his name from your lips makes his heart race, he nods quickly. “Then I’m very happy for you. I wondered how you were,” you blink back tears, and he catches sight of them glimmering under the set lights. “I think of you often.”

The words are there, you are afraid of them, but also you’re so tired of holding it all in. He steps even closer, making you swallow nervously, leaning down a bit, a hand now brushing your hair back from your face. The contact alone of his fingers brushing through your strands makes your heart hammer in your chest, eyes locking with his.

“I think of you every damn day,” his hoarse voice is so genuine, you’re so afraid to trust it, to believe it, but you feel it, something has changed in him. “I would love to just know how your life is going. If you’d just please, have coffee with me? Or just anything in the world you want.”

“Satoru,” he caresses your cheek now, uncaring of the eyes around you both, the little murmurs, his eyes are locked all on you, as he brushes aside a tear you didn’t realize slipped. “You really just want to know me?”

“I do, I want to know you, even if we catch up and you never talk to me again, maybe it’s what I deserve.”

“You don’t-”

“I do not deserve any time. But please,” his own eyes shut, as he feels you trembling as his hand slips down your arm, over bare skin. “I want to know you’re good, that you’re okay, just anything you want to share with me.”

You turn away for a moment, and he curses under his breath, afraid of your answer, but you’re swiping tears, trying to compose yourself. You feel so much in that moment, in how deeply you still love him, that you just have to take a moment, before turning back around, eyes glimmering as you catch him, staring down at his feet, nervous like you.

“I’d love to catch up, I’d love to know how your life is,” you almost break down, blinking tears as his eyes meet yours again. “How about now?”

“Now!? Shit, yes. Now.” You giggle a bit, as he smiles, so boyish and charming, splitting your heart into a million pieces as he takes your hand, pausing. “Is that okay if I…”

“Yes,” you nod, and he tugs you along, you hear whispers of the models around, who surely all had crushes on him, but Satoru’s attention is undividedly on you. as your heart races in your chest. Your fingers intertwined as he brings you to his car now. “Satoru you drive?”

“I do.” He smiles a bit, brushing his fingers across the sleek Mercedes. “She’s my baby.”

“Is she now?” He grins and nods, opening the door. “I thought you had no license, honestly.”

“I’m wounded! No, I just don't usually drive, this car is special. Here,” he latches your seat belt in, your breath catches, he's so close you feel flustered by him. He comes to sit and smiles at you. “Where too, my lady?”

“Your lady hmm,” you're teasing but the words melt you. There's so much unsaid between you both that you don't think coffee is going to cover it, but you're willing to try it as a first step. “The one by my place? I stress baked cupcakes I can give you when you drop me off.��

“How many this time?” He chuckles as he turns, backing up. It's crazy to even see Satoru holding a steering wheel, it's far too attractive. 

“Like only three dozen. And I have brownies.”

“Pot brownies?”

“No!” You both laugh again, it's so fucking natural, it's so easy to be with him like this. Like the night you met him.

It gets a little quiet then, as you sit in the traffic, and he puts on his music from his phone. It's a quiet song, filling the new silence as the two of you sit there, scared to say the wrong thing.

You take a breath. Looking at him, the sun bright through the car window, illuminating his skin. He peers right back at you, hands gripping the wheel tightly, exhaling. You barely blink back more emotions, reaching a hand out then, resting it on one of his.

“Shit, I missed that.” He whispers softly, taking your hand gently and kissing it. Your heart breaks further, until the pain is so deep you can't breathe.

“I'm so sorry I pushed you away, I didn't give you a chance to explain things.” Your words are broken and hoarse, Satoru shakes his head, back focused on the road as he holds onto your hand tightly.

“I'm sorry that I pushed you into something that you never wanted.”

“You didn't push me…”

“I offered it, and I knew you weren't that girl. I knew it, but I was selfish,” he looks back at you, sadness in his blue depths. “I wanted to have it all, my career, you, keep everything in my life the same. Just better. It was selfish.”

“I was selfish, I did it to make sure you wouldn't be with anyone else.” Saying it out loud hurts, but you feel the weight come off your chest, as Satoru blinks tears, falling across his cheek and glimmering in the sun.

“You just wanted to please me, I don't think that's wrong. It was wrong of me to let you.”

“Don't bear all of the blame,” you lean close and kiss away his tears, the two of you stuck in more traffic now. His car parks, as he brushes his fingers across your face. “I should have told you how much it all meant, it was never just sex for me. I wasn't honest with you.”

He nods just a bit, but you see it, the regret on his face. “I wasn't honest with you about anything I felt either. I want to tell you so much, but it's too late.”

“It's not too late.” He sighs, the traffic moves as you sit back in your seat. Clutched tightly, your little hand in his huge one, protective and sweet, you've never missed something so badly.

“You're not with someone?”

“Satoru I work, come home and wallow on my couch. I'm not dating,” he visibly exhales. “And you're not…”

“No one.” His words are quiet, your heart pounds so loudly in your ears as he eyes you again, blue storms swirling with so much. “If this coffee goes okay, can I have a date? A real date?”

You can’t help but get flustered, visible to him the way you nibble on your thumb and shift in your seat, eyes lowering. “A date?”

“A real one. Flowers or some corny shit, fuck I'll get a corsage.”

“Satoru!” You're giggling, he sighs then at how good that sound hits his ears. “It’s not prom, silly.”

“God I love your laugh,” you pause, looking at him then. “Never told you that. The sound does something. It's contagious.”

“I love your smile,” his lip trembles at your teary declaration. “I missed it so badly, I hate that I made you lose it.”

“I hate that I made you cry, I hate that I said that shit.” You shake your head then, biting down on your lip once more, at a red light. It casts a soft glow on Satoru's face, as he tugs it from your teeth. “I didn't mean it.”

“I know you didn't, I should have accepted the apology. I felt so… lost though?” He manages a little nod, as he drives again, and you two just listen to the music in the car until he's right at that coffee shop.

“I went there because I just wanted to see you, it wasn't just sex for me.” He unseatbelts you with a quiet click, a hand pressing on your bare thigh as he looks into your eyes. His minty sweet breath caresses your face. “It was never just sex and that scared the fuck out of me. I wanted to explain it away as simply amazing sex.”

“It was more for you too?” He nods now, cupping your face in his hands, resting his forehead on yours as you two take each other in.

“So much more. I have a lot to tell you about me, it's not all gonna happen today. But I want you to know. And I want to know you, your life, things I didn't even care to find out then. If you will let me.”

“I will, Toru.” The nickname ends his control, he kisses you, just a sweet pop of his lips for a moment, and you melt in his embrace, he pulls back and his thumbs brush over your heated cheeks.

“Sorry, should I not do that? Can I not do that?” His concern is written all over his face then, while the blue eyes assess you gently.

“You can do that,” you press a kiss to his palm, thumb brushing along his inner wrist now. “Is this a date too?”

“Fuck, anything is a date if you want it.” You laugh a bit.

“A date with the Satoru Gojo?”

“Only with you,” you both step into the cozy ambiance of the Cafe, bustling as always. The aroma of coffee beans and sweets fills both of your noses. “Go grab a table, I'll get us two cups.”

You're so pretty sitting there, chin on your hand resting just so, smiling and watching him when he's walking back. And all he can think is how precious and right you feel, as he sits next to you in the booth, and you two sip on the sweet foam of the mocha hitting your lips. He has just a bit of foam on them you tentatively swipe off, the touch almost doing him in.

Just that motion is damn near too much for him, your fingers on his lips as you smile, so nervous, bringing back that night. Did he fall in love with you then? Was something like that even possible? He can’t explain it any other way, from the moment he saw you and how you filled his mind, changed him forever. Your hand falls as he contemplates you carefully, scared it’s some dream.

“You remember my favorite?” He nods, not realizing just that speaks volumes.

You love him.

You're always going to love him.

You ache to say it, but you want that to be the right moment. The hurt is so raw and new, and you two both feel that tension, the way that you both feel terrible for how it all went, the way you missed each other. You sit next to him, a hand comfortably resting on your thigh, it feels so right, the touch. You’re so starved from the lack of him, the lack of his nearness.

“I want to learn anything you want to share.” You tell him softly, as he massages your thigh with his thumb in little circles.

“So do I. Where's photography fit in? Do you still do design?”

“I still do that, I think I needed a distraction. How did you get into modeling?”

“Really connected agents and being stupidly attractive.” You’re laughing, shaking your head. “Gonna deny it?”

“You’re ridiculous.” He’s grinning so big then, you know how terribly you missed that, tugging at your own lips in return, making you smile with him. “I love how your eyes light up.”

He pauses, heart hammering at your soft words, words you’ve held back, and he feels his own tumble out, when his hand squeezes your thigh gently. “I love how sweet you are.”

You feel it, that barrier falling, the one that’s terrified to open up again, but he’s trying to, you just see it. You take a breath, smiling with trembling lips. “I love how caring you are, how you notice things no one else does.”

Drawn to you even closer, he swallows nervously, Adams apple bobbing while he brushes your hair back. “I miss your scent, I catch a hint of it and look for you.”

“You do?” Your voice is soft, as the moment feels so surreal, you couldn’t even have dreamt this, pictured this. He nods quickly, while your hand rests over his, feeling the veins under your fingertips while you two cozy up in the little coffee shop.

“I do miss it, I miss everything. Not just… you know… that.” He blushes a little, rubbing the back of his neck as you feel your own cheeks heat at the memories.

“Me too. Everything.” It takes everything in Satoru not to kiss you again, not a sweet little press of the lips like earlier - he wants to make sure your mouth is swollen from his kisses. He wants you so badly it’s hard to think, to inhale your scent in his nostrils as he tastes your sweet skin, to just fucking hold you.

A mix of everything at once so overwhelming he is trembling, you notice and look at him, lashes lowering as your hearts both race, and his head leans down, coming to rest on yours. You feel tears pricking your eyes at how badly you craved this, craved his presence, in any form at all. You didn’t know this would be a possibility, the way you two speak now, the way you don’t stop the contact.

That first night you met, you two couldn’t stop talking, and for a shy girl like you it was entirely new, it was so different and special, all to happen again for you both, to be so connected and the ease that your words flow. It’s natural, so right to speak to him, to listen to him, as you both recount what you’ve missed in the months alone, making the longing even deeper.

You’d missed so much.

He’d missed so much.

Eventually taking far, far too long to just drink coffee together, he’s taken you back home. You hesitate a bit before inviting him in, remembering the pain of that moment you asked him to leave, and realizing what he’ll see if he comes in. He feels your hesitation, clearing his throat then, and taking your hand in his.

“I don’t have to come in if you’re not ready,” you shake your head quickly. “It’s understandable.”

“It’s not that at all, it’s…” your couch is a mess, the living room table littered with wine bottles and pizza boxes. You have been in such deep depression that the area alone stays messy, while you stress clean the entire house. How do you show him that side of you, a side you don’t know how to explain?

“You can just go in and bring ‘em out, it’s okay.” He’s smiling again, you sigh then, shaking your head.

“If we’re going to start over, I think you should know parts of me that aren’t the best.” He frowns a bit in confusion as you unlock the door, he remembers every bit of your home of course, but when he looks over to your couch he sees it.

He’s quiet as you shut the door behind him, tense as you know this isn’t how a normal person acts, the devastation you’ve been in, the place you rot away and cry about him. The place you numb yourself, after acting happy all fucking day, you know it’s not normal to be this affected by a couple weeks with someone.

But it was you, and you didn’t want to hide anymore.

“Shit…” He murmurs, you slip your purse on the counter, while he slowly walks up to you, hands on your waist, you feel the emotions you’ve barely held together about to crumble when he tugs you against him, wrapping his arms around you.

“It’s embarrassing, that’s why I hesitated.” You admit softly, letting him hold you right in your kitchen, but it wasn’t like last time - it was not sexual, it’s caring, it’s a tight hold you never want to leave.

“You were hurting that badly, why didn’t you just…” He exhales, kissing your head then. “You could have told me, fuck I’d have been here.”

“I pushed you away, I hurt you too.” Your words are true, he’s been devastated without you, but the physical evidence is glaring in how you took it.

“We hurt each other,” he admits, you nod, looking up at him and sighing, he tilts your ching up now, the feel of him against you filling things that were empty before and in his absence. “There’s so much I want to say, but for now… let me just help clean this up.”

“No, please, I’ll clean it before you come over again.” He’s already shaking his head. “Satoru, that's embarrassing.”

“It’s not. Where’s the cleaning shit?” He’s already tall and lanky in your kitchen, bending over and opening cabinets now. He’s doing anything to avoid the knowledge you hurt like that for so fucking long, the sweet and bubbly girl he met living like that breaks him so deeply he can’t even tap into how much it hurts.

“It was just… a spot I left that way I guess.” You grimace and help him then, grabbing trash bags as you eye the mess you’ve made of the couch.

It’s abundantly clear the spot you sat in for six months every day after work, while he starts throwing out empty boxes and bottles of wine with you. You’re not as embarrassed with him as you thought you’d be, he doesn’t make you feel that way, he just helps you, methodically throwing things out. The wine bottles clink as they hit, he eyes a couple of them and smirks.

“These are so cheap and shitty.”

“Well excuse me!” You’re laughing then, even through your tears, he gives you a sad little smile, continuing to tidy up. You tackle the table you haven’t seen in months with a sponge, he starts folding your several plush blankets all tangled up, frowning a bit.

“You sleep here too?” He asks, you nod a bit. 

“I would just watch movies till I cried myself to sleep.” You take a shaky breath, wiping the table down with a towel as Satoru’s lips open, as if to speak, but he just smiles again.

“I’ll take these out.” He walks the trash out as you go to the kitchen, spotless in comparison to that area, that was the one place you let it all just be chaos, let the hurt sink in.

Now he’s here, and you don’t even know how to act, you hurt him and pushed him away, and he’s here to pick up your pieces. He steps back in, walking over to you as you both look at each other, his hands slipping down your arms gently, you take several breaths, biting your lower lip as he tugs you closer. It’s quiet, all the things you both want to say on the tip of your tongues.

“I’m so sorry you hurt like that,” he finally says, cupping your face, you touch his hand and sniffle a bit, nodding.

“I hurt you too, though, I felt so horrible for it, I think it made everything worse.”

“Don’t,” he shakes his head now. “I didn’t know how to not be sexual, you were right about me.”

“But you-”

“No,” he puts a finger to your lips, sighing now as he feels them under his finger, smoothing that indentation of your teeth and watching your lashes lower. “The club, I just proved you right.”

You flush as you remember that, the wanton way you’d arched for him, how you’d squirted, sucked his fingers. God you were a mess for him so easily, after saying you didn’t want that you fell back into it with ease. If he were to do it now you would, but he keeps his touches chaste, careful, leaning down and tilting your chin up, letting you look into his eyes.

“I originally made it sexual then demanded more-”

“No, you needed more. You told me, and I didn’t give it. I…” he trails off, sighing now. “I never knew how to be affectionate, sex to me was affection. It’s all I knew how to do in that moment, when you needed more.”

“But you didn’t have to give more. That was me.”

“I want more, I still want more.” You can hardly comprehend that those words are coming from his perfect lips, your heart racing now. “There’s a lot I want to say, but I don’t think we should unpack this all today. And I want to see you again.”

“I want to see you again.” Your hand slips up his chest, as he wraps an arm around your waist. “Thank you for today, for everything. You didn’t have to do that.”

“I helped cause that depression, so of course I should help clean it up.” He’s emotional, imagining the girl he fucking loves - yes he loves you - just sobbing on a messy couch. He swallows it down, along with the urge to kiss every part of your body, knowing he just can’t right now.

“I never thought I’d see you again,” the sobs break now, you can’t hold them back when you’re in his arms, face pressed against his chest, body shaking as he tries to stroke your back, your arms. “I felt so horrible making you go.”

“It was the best thing, you deserved more than I gave.”

“Satoru! No…”

“Yes.” He cups your face, swiping your tears as he holds back his own, shaking his head again. “You deserve everything, fuck I was so unsure I could ever give it you you I never thought you’d even fucking feel that way for me.”

“You underestimate how amazing you are,” he nuzzles your palm when you lean up and touch his cheek gently. “You deserve everything.”

“I want you to know, I haven’t… nothing since you.” You blink in surprise, lashes still dripping tears that he presses sweet kisses on, bending at the waist. “I couldn’t be with anyone.”

“Me either, Toru.” He kisses you again, sweet and salty from your tears, as his own eyes get glassy with emotion.

“You promised me brownies and cookies, I earned my keep now.” You laugh then, it’s so freeing, his pretty grin just a little crooked as you step back.

“You did! Of course, come on.” You go to grab them out of the fridge, he hates that even now he’s eyeing your ass like that, he knows he can’t yet, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t desire your body too.

He’ll always desire you, every bit of you, the thoughts eating him at night, the amount of times he’s played with himself to your memory is ridiculous. But he is making sure that takes a back seat, what you need is comfort, clearly, the sadness just shows, like you’re keeping it together just a bit for him. You get a pretty flowery tupperware and start stacking them for him as he is enamored with your every movement.

“You’re so beautiful.” He says softly, you pause, snapping the lid on, all puffy cheeked from crying.

“I probably look like a mess,”

“You’re always beautiful.” He steps closer, kissing your forehead now. “Not just your pretty face or your sexy body,” now his voice drops an octave, fucking your mind, body and heart up as you look at the man you love. “Something about you, it’s in here, that shit sounds corny huh?”

“No, it doesn’t,” he’s touching your chest, feeling your heartbeat under his palm racing and fluttering. You put yours on his, feeling the slow athletic beat he’s always had kicked up just a bit. “You are too, Satoru, much more than your looks.”

Those words hit harder than he knew they would, it’s always been his looks, since he met his ex. Everything was his potential, and even if his personality was something that carried him, it always felt like people wanted him for his looks. His eyes, his body, his lips.

But you never just wanted that, he knows it now.

“Fuck,” he can’t even hold back this one kiss, the one where he’s pinning you against the counter, and you’re whining out, that cute breathy cry that ends him. “I missed you so fucking much.”

“Me too, me too…” your words are muffled with his lips, hungry and desperate on yours, the kiss he’s held for you for months, the one he played over and over in his head. If he ever got a chance, if he ever got to hold you again, he pours it all then, in that moment with you.

“Satoru…” You’re whispering his name as he bends over, taking over your senses, mouth devouring yours, so messy then, his tongue slipping in your mouth, possessing it. You cling to his dress shirt, nails pressing against his back over the fabric as his hands slip down your waist, gripping your hips and tugging you closer.

He whispers your name, a soft whine as he looks at you with those cerulean depths lit up, breaths faster, kissing you over and over, as if he’ll never get enough. You lose yourself, your entire body on fire - nipples pressed against your sweater, tummy clenched with the desire you haven’t felt once before or after him, your pulse racing in your ears.

“God I missed this,” he says then, breaking away to take a breath, you kiss him again, sweet, god you’re sweet. God he loves kissing you, holding you, looking into eyes behind fogged up glasses, so adorable it tugs at him with affection. “You’re so adorable.”

“I need windshield wipers.” He laughs then, a genuine laugh, as you giggle, he tugs your glasses off and kisses you again, hands gripping your face after he sets them on the counter next to the baked goods.

It wasn’t just an exaggeration, it wasn’t him making the thoughts more than they were, the kisses just were like this with you. Life altering movements of plush lips melding to each other, hands warming each other's skin, he can’t get enough - god he wants more, but he holds back, until he can’t anymore, tugging away just a bit and taking a breath, trailing his fingers down your curves slowly.

“I want more, I don’t want you to think it was just your body,” he says then, you nod quickly, understanding, even as your breasts heave up and down with your quick breaths. “God I wanna fucking tear this off you.”

“Mnh…” you bury your face against his chest, feeling his heart beat against your cheek quicker now, as you nod against him. “I want it too, Satoru I… I felt so sexual because I just already had feelings. It was always more for me.” He exhales, pressing another kiss to your heated cheek, blushing against his lips, hot to the touch.

“I knew that, and I still was selfish.” Admitting it sucked, it fucking hurt, but he knows he needs to do more, say more.

“So was I.”

“I don’t think you have a selfish bone in your pretty body.” You laugh softly.

“I do. For you.”

“Selfish for me?” His husky voice drives you insane, you nod when he moans, kissing you again, thigh pressing between yours, when he feels your heat it almost takes him out. “Fuck… maybe you’ll show me how selfish some day.”

“M-maybe I will…”

He chuckles again, pulling back. “You’re too cute.”

“Oh you always said that.” You’re smiling though, he sees it and it tears him up, how beautiful the sight is for his eyes again.

“You are cute, you’re adorable. I love that about you… I… deleted those, so you know, okay?” Your eyes widen in surprise then.

“You did?”

“The moment you said you regretted them, it wasn’t right to keep it up. I want you to know, no one knows it was you, I guess except your friend and me.”

“Of course, I knew you’d never share that information.”

“I shouldn’t have asked you, I shouldn’t have done it.”

“Satoru…”

“No,” he cuts you off softly, you’re back in his arms now, snuggled in his embrace. “I am furious I showed anyone that perfect pussy, y’know that?”

You pause at the declaration, looking up at him. “Really?”

“God yes,” he laughs without humor then. “I hate that others saw you, it was already making me angry, but I was so stuck up my own self.”

“Just know I forgive you, and I don’t blame it all on you.” He nods then, the relief from your words letting his broad shoulders rest just a bit. “Thank you for taking them down, but I shouldn’t have said that.”

“You did regret it.”

“I didn’t regret being with you on video, I um… regretted others seeing it. Me and you? It felt too intimate, too special,” your hands entwine as you speak, his long fingers against your much smaller ones, feeling so warm and good. You shut your eyes as you try to gather your thoughts. “I regretted anyone seeing us together.”

“It was special,” his words bring your gaze back. “It was intimate, and I wish we kept it to us now.”

“You do?”

“God yes, the fact that anyone jerked it to you? Makes me unreasonably fucking mad now,” you bury your face against his chest again, the warmth of his palm seeping into your skin. “All I could think was ‘pussy is mine’.”

You blink in surprise. “You thought that?”

“Did I think that, yes of course I did. I thought a lot I didn’t say,” he sighs now, kissing your forehead again so sweetly as his phone rings. He frowns, and you step back a bit as he checks it. “I’m suddenly free this Saturday, how about you?”

“I’m free!” You say it so quickly he laughs.

“Sweetheart,” the way he says it after so long makes you tremble with need, as he brushes back your hair. “I can’t begin to say how much I missed you.”

“Me too, god so much. Feel like you’re some dream.” He feels the same, god he does, like this isn’t real, when you two kiss again, this time it’s too much, he’s so close to losing his control.

Satoru’s hands are on your hips, while you feel like your home is here, right on his perfect lips. He’s delving his tongue in your mouth feverish and heated now, before he picks you up, thighs on either side of his hips, sitting you on the counter. You’re lost in him, like the sweetest drink or most addicting drug, arms wrapping his neck as his hardness presses.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he murmurs again, you whine and roll your hips, when he litters kisses down the side of your neck. “I miss this so much.”

“I miss it, I miss you. Need you.” He exhales at that, his hands slipping up bare thighs over your knee socks, thumbs pressing the softness of your inner thighs, you’re whining out at it. “I only want you.”

“God me too,” he’s so close to slipping those soaked panties to the side, as he tugs you closer, and you take a breath, trying to get your composure, lips swollen from his kisses. “So beautiful.”

“I feel beautiful with you,” he moans and kisses you again, hands pressing deep, so deep he’ll bruise you as they wrap your thighs, and he groans. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sorry,” he sighs as he pulls back, looking at you spread for him, picturing sinking to his knees and worshipping you. “You look too good, I need to go.”

“I feel the same. I think I should… bake more.” He laughs again, the sound so bright it melts you, as he helps you down, sliding you across his hard body slowly. “Bake a lot and then take a cold shower.”

“A cold shower sounds good to me too.” He cups your face then, tilting your chin up and brushing his thumb on your lips. “Make no mistake, we need time, but when you’re ready if I ever get another chance at you? I’m gonna fuck you till you can’t walk.”

“Toru mnh…” He’s moaning and kissing you again, it takes everything not to let him, not to beg for it. But you both need to take a breath. It’s too raw, it’s too fresh, and there’s so much. “I want to know so much more about you.”

“I do too. Not just every inch of your body, though that thought is raging,” he’s pouting and you’re giggling again, brightening your pretty eyes. “I wish I’d just listened to you then. But my feelings were hurt.”

“I get it, I really do. So, Saturday huh?”

“Saturday.” He kisses you again, and soon he’s walking to the door, as the memories of the last time he was here hit.

“Fuck,” you hate how they rush in, stealing your breath. He looks at you, frowning as he holds the little tupperware you gave him. “I hated myself for doing it.”

“No, sweets, don’t. Don’t hate yourself, okay?” You’re swiping tears again.

“I’m a mess.”

“Beautiful mess,” his words make you lean up to kiss him again, his free hand wraps you, while the two of you stand in your quiet entry way, just the sounds of your breaths and kisses filling the room. “I want you to be my beautiful mess.”

“I want to be yours.” He sighs, kissing your palm and then your hand, things he never thought he’d do, but he wants to with you.

“I don’t want to fuck this up, I never thought I’d even see you again, not even sure I deserve to kiss you.”

“Let me figure out what you deserve, what I want. Okay?” He nods then, swallowing nervously and taking a breath. “Text me when you get home safe.”

“I will, good night sweets.” The little nicknames nearly do you in again, when you smile and lean on the doorway, he’s waving when he gets in his car, hesitating before he pulls off.

What if he doesn’t see you again?

The panic sets in his heart, he knew he missed you, but he didn’t know the depths of the fear until now, as he sees your hand wave back at him, sees your silhouette in the doorway. He steps out of his car, walking back up as you shut your door, stepping forward when he’s kissing you again.

“One more.” He murmurs, so sweet you’re done for, god it’s all back - it never left - but being in his arms? His presence? His desperate needy kiss?

You’re hugging him over his shoulders, kissing him right back, the sky is all pinks and golds as the sun sets, casting shadows on that silvery hair, bringing out the little streaks of lavender. You’re taking a slow breath, heart feeling like it’s whole for the first time since that day you sent him away, the day you did the thing that hurt you the most, but he’s here.

He’s here.

All of him.

“Sorry,” you shake your head, cupping his face. He’s a couple steps down as you stand on your deck, enough you’re almost face to face with him. “I can’t help it.”

“Don’t say sorry, I love your kisses. I missed them.” He moans and kisses you again, feeling your gravity tugging him so close that it feels wrong to back away. “You could just stay and cuddle? Or just stay. You don’t have to go home if you don’t want to, you know.”

“If I stay no way it’s just fucking cuddling, you’re expecting too much from a former pornstar you know,” You blush then at his insinuation, when he backs away again. “Good night baby.”

“Good night again, Toru.”

He laughs as he goes back to the car, your heart hurts when he drives off, but the weight feels so lifted, the sorrow and self loathing of pushing the man you love away. It was so hard to let that go, to let go his tears when he begged you to keep him around, but now you know it was the right decision, as you pass by a freshly cleaned couch later that evening, eyeing your phone.

You always sit there, but tonight instead, you go to your room, the bed you’ve not gone near in so long. You snuggle up, pulling up a book for the first time in months, and you can almost read it, but you’re so stuck in your thoughts of him, of his kisses and his pretty blue eyes, of the energy of him, his scent left behind. A scent you missed so fucking badly.

Instead of wine and pizza, it’s a water bottle next to your nightstand, when you get it - his text.

Satoru - I got a little busy. I'm sorry, I’m home now. Suguru was having a moment

You - that’s fine! I’m glad you’re home safe

Satoru sighs, looking at the phone as he lays in his bed, picturing you right here in his arms, he’d stroke your hair, he’d press kisses along your skin. He’d hold you here forever if you fucking let him. Even now, there’s so much more he has to say, but he wants to give you the perfect date, one you deserve. He wants to share more of who he is with you.

Today, seeing that side of you made it so much more raw, the pain you must have felt, how hard it was to push him away. He never resented you for it, even though it killed him, deep down he knew why you did it, but instead of trying to fix it, he made it all fucking worse that night.

Satoru - I can’t wait to see you again.

He’d never say that before, he’d have made some sexy joke or some silly comment, not just be vulnerable. And it was terrifying to do it, his heart hammering in his chest as he sits up in his bed. He looks next to him, remembering you right there, remembering fucking you all night, waking up and fucking you again, but he thinks of all the times he could have done more.

Just held you, just kissed you, of course he wanted you - god he’s never wanted anyone like you - but he wishes he did even more. Hold your hand, at that damn dinner said ‘no she’s my girlfriend’ fuck he wanted to. He wishes he could have held you so close to him, let everyone know you’re his. Friend, what a joke, he never was your friend.

He always wanted more and didn’t even know what it was.

You - me too, I’m so excited!

He’s torn between being so happy and smiling, but also feeling that sadness of seeing that couch with you. The pain he saw in your eyes that night at the club, but he was so consumed, he couldn’t realize what was glaringly apparent. Your confessions he was so fucking scared to return.

He can’t wait to say it, that he loves you.

He never thought he’d get a chance.

You- I hope you have sweet dreams Satoru.

He smiles at that sadly - It’s been nothing without you, darkness.

You bite your lip as he types - It’s been nightmares for you.

Satoru- you too, sweetheart.

The two of you can hardly stand it, feeling each other’s kisses lingering on your skin, inhaling the scent of each other in your nostrils. Hugging those pillows tight and picturing each other. But for once, instead of you sobbing and him tossing and turning, the two of you fall asleep, wishing Saturday would come quickly, so you two can start over again, and not fuck it up so badly.

we will get back to this being sexy next chap aha

Taglist 1 - @juicu @kalulakunundrum @gojoswaterbottle @aldebrana @simp-plague @wedojustbevibin @lucciferr0 @officialholyagua @privthemis @coffee-and-geto @homesickes @msniks @emi311 @mai-505 @ren-ren23 @yihona-san06 @emochosoluvr @sylvermoon @bunheadusa @karvokr @starmapz @queenexplosonmurderr @musiclover2119 @saitamaswifey @reagan707 @midorissi @ghostskilledmyaddiction21 @itsinherited @maisiefrancesca @gyarubunny @theonlyhonoredone @chosslut @simperisksksk @xlilycoco @howlsdarling @femaholicc @maymaymarch @miseryyouth-99 @swoozleee @zeunys @cryingdevil @leafynightmares @princess-bblgm @gojosconsort @insomnicshello @joonunivrs @myahfig4 @silviscosplay @iluvjjkmennn @nutellajade

[deathbxnny]

Arcane women accidentally confessing to you. | Sevika, Jinx, Caitlyn, Vi x Gn!Reader

This is very self-indulgent, so enjoy.<3

Content: pre-season 2 because I want to be happy rn, slight angst if you squint, fluff, accidental confessions, maybe ooc??, cursing, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns!

((Not proofread))

》SEVIKA

She was resting at the last drop with you during some downtime in between missions. One hand lingered on your hip whilst her metallic one held onto her cigar, eyes focused on the pocker game she was playing with a couple of Silco's other henchmen. She always kept you close this way, a clear sign of who you belonged to despite never having said a word about it yet. It was a mutual understanding only you could have, and so she didn't think a confession was necessary.

Until today, it seemed.

You were secretly helping her cheat a little and eventually told her the winning move, which earned her a large sum of money. Letting out a smug laugh at everyone's angered and defeated glares, she gave you a lazy grin. "Thanks, sweetheart. This is why I love you." She hummed to you, smoke exhaling from her dark lips, before she froze ever so slightly. Well, it shouldn't be that much of a surprise to either of you, and yet she couldn't help but chuckle at your own stunned face.

Looking at the men around her, she threw some poker chips towards them, clearly asking for another round. She wasn't the type to get flustered or shy anyways, so her moving on like nothing happened was on brand.

The only acknowledgment you got, however, was the hand on your hip tightening.

》JINX

She has a hard time hiding her feelings for you due to her rather energetic and extremely clingy nature. But there is still a clear distance between you two that she's too scared to cross. It was a deep fear of ruining everything she had with you in case her confession went wrong. She'd rather you consider her your best friend for life if it meant for you to stay at her side. She didn't want to lose more people after all. And yet, as fate has it, she eventually lost herself in a good and happy moment with you.

You were tinkering on some projects in her hideout whilst listening to music. Her head was leaning against your shoulder as her eyes traced your focused gaze. Jinx felt so content and at peace in that moment that she couldn't stop the words that spilled out of her mouth. "I love you." It took her a second to realise what happened, and her body was quick to flinch away from you. You kept her in place, however, with a free hand placed against her head. "Hey, it's okay. I love you too. I'm not leaving." You reassured her quickly with a smile, one that made her heart skip a beat.

She may not see herself as deserving of you, but she's glad to have you at her side anyway. Hopefully forever.

》CAITLYN

Caitlyn was good at hiding her emotions from you. In fact, she had refused to tell you in fear of breaking the professionalism you two had and, most importantly, your friendship that she cherished deeply. And so, she was very careful not to reveal a single thing... until her confidence betrayed her and caused her to slip up.

You two were reviewing a new case together, and whilst she wasn't paying attention, she accidentally slid you her diary over. It unfortunately looked too similar to her work notebook, something she only realised the moment you opened it and froze in surprise. She may have scribbled your name all over it. She may have childishly drawn hearts around your name. She may have made it awfully clear that she loved you. And it made her wonder if there was a god out there that hated her deeply.

"... My apologies. Please ignore that-" "-Haha, I'm so relieved that I'm not the only one who did this!" You let out a soft laugh before pulling out your notebook and showing her similar pages to her own, just with her name written all over them. Her face was flushed from how flustered and embarrassed she was, but alas, she too couldn't help and chuckle at how silly this all was. At least you felt the same.

》VI

It's not like she didn't want to confess her feelings to you. She just didn't know how! Her confession should sweep you right off your feet in her mind, and yet nothing she came up with seemed good enough. Vi hoped that her flirting would get the point across, but she lacked the confidence to go any further than compliments. She just didn't want you to think differently of her and therefore kept her distance for the most part regarding the subject. That is if she could keep it in for lobger than she already has. She always felt so strongly about others, after all.

So, during a little hang out session in a bar somewhere in Zaun, she attempted to find the courage to tell you how she felt. Whilst she went off to go and get you a drink first, however, a drunken man showed up at your side and started flirting you in a rather uncomfortable way. You tried making it clear that you weren't interested, but as he went to grab your arm, a hand slammed in between you two onto the bar table. "Hey, I think they told you no, asshole." "Who the hell are you?" The man barked back, yet Vi didn't back down and simply blocked you from his view with her body. "I'm their girlfriend, now fuck off." She hissed, and the man just rolled his eyes before walking off grumbling.

Silence filled the space in between you two until you chuckled softly. "Girlfriend, huh? I like the sound of that." You hummed, secretly trying to ease her embarrassed mind, that quickly recovered at your words with a sly grin. "You do?" You mirrored her smile with a nod. "Very much so. I'm glad we think alike."

[diltonsstrangescience]

Words cannot express my joy at having this data! This is valuable characterization information!!!

As someone relatively new to the fandom, without a very clear picture of the comic’s evolution over the years, it’s very cool to see the changes of a character’s personality laid out like that. Like watching one of those time-lapse videos of plants growing.

Except instead of a plant, it’s a time lapse of a somewhat annoying yet confident and capable kid evolving into the poster child for perfectionism and anxiety. Which is kind of sad, but also a little funny when it’s literally represented with an arrow plummeting downwards with no sign of stopping. He’s just going to get more neurotic. There’s no end in sight.

Honestly, relatable.

"The most smug and pretentious looking Dilton" like thank god we found him, my crops were dying (also Archie stop making fun of Dilton cos he wants to learn how to sew)

dilton’s smugness has changed so much over the years. like i’m still amazed by his evolution from Boy Genius to Boy Genius But With Human Emotions. 

i sketched out a graph of his smugness as a function of time:

[satellite-evans]

all I need

Pairing: Lando Norris x driver!reader

Summary: Lando gets furiuos when you get fined for swearing after your crash.

Word count: 2.9k+

Warnings: fluff, swearing, injuries, angry lando

Request : Hi could I please request a lando x reader fic where the reader is a driver and she gets in a big crash and the team radio is like asking if she is okay and shes like answers after a bit and is in pain because she just CRASHED and then she accidentally swears on radio and she gets fined and the media is going crazy and like lando is just being a good protective boyfriend and is defending her in interviews and stuff? Thanks!! xoxo - anon 🍟

A/N:

Hi love, thank you so much for sending in a request and trusting me enough to write your idea!! I hope I did it justice xxx

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, talks, vents, recommendations or just simple questions are always welcome.

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

One moment, everything is fine—you’re fighting for position, pushing the car to its absolute limit, heart pounding with adrenaline as you navigate the treacherous corners. The next, it all goes horribly wrong.

The rear tires lose grip. A sharp twitch, then a full spin. Time slows, but your mind races. Your hands react on instinct, desperately trying to correct, but it’s too late. The world outside the cockpit blurs in a sickening whirl of colors—track, barriers, sky. Then nothing but gut-wrenching weightlessness as the car lifts off the ground.

The impact is catastrophic. Metal shrieks against metal, carbon fiber shatters like glass. The force slams through your body, rattling bones, squeezing air from your lungs. Pain flares—sharp, immediate—radiating from your ribs, your shoulders, your skull as the cockpit jolts to a brutal stop. Static crackles in your helmet.

For a moment, everything is eerily still. Your pulse roars in your ears, drowning out the stunned gasps from the crowd, the commentary scrambling to make sense of what just happened. Your breath is ragged, shallow. The world tilts nauseatingly around you.

Then, the radio buzzes to life.

"Y/N, Y/N, are you okay?!" David's voice is urgent, bordering on frantic. There’s a tightness to it you’ve never heard before, and that alone terrifies you more than the crash itself.

You try to respond, but pain flares when you shift. A groan escapes before you can stop it. Your fingers fumble for the radio button, and when you finally manage to press it, your voice comes out weak, breathless.

"Fuck—yeah, I think so." A cough, a wince. "That hurt."

Across the track, in his car, Lando watches it all unfold in real-time. His stomach drops, breath catching as he sees your car crumple against the barriers. His knuckles go white around the steering wheel, heart hammering painfully against his ribs. The images flash across the big screens, slow-motion replays dissecting the crash from every angle. He can’t tear his eyes away.

Is she okay? Is she responding?!" His voice is laced with panic, the desperation evident.

His race engineer hesitates. "We're waiting on confirmation, Lando. Focus on the race."

But how the hell is he supposed to do that? The car, the track, the championship—all of it fades. Right now, none of it matters except you.

His grip on the steering wheel tightens. "Please—can you keep me updated? I need to know if she's okay." His voice wavers just slightly, the emotion threatening to spill over.

A pause. Then, softer, "We will, Lando. Just focus for now."

He exhales sharply, forcing himself to keep driving, but his eyes keep flicking to the screens around the circuit, searching for any sign of movement from you. His heart pounds as he waits—praying to hear your voice again.

A beat of silence stretches after your message. Then, Race Control’s voice cuts through.

"Y/N, reminder that all radio transmissions are broadcasted live. Watch the language."

Despite everything, a strained, breathy laugh escapes you. "Yeah, yeah, noted. Ow."

The medical car is already pulling up, orange lights flashing, marshals swarming the wreckage. You can hear them shouting, their voices urgent but professional. Someone taps on the side of your cockpit, checking for a response. Your fingers twitch, slow and uncoordinated, but you give them a thumbs-up.

The crowd, stunned into silence, exhales as one. The commentators try to fill the dead air with reassurances, but the tension is thick. On social media, the crash is already going viral—clips looping endlessly, speculation running rampant.

The straps of your harness dig into your bruised shoulders as the adrenaline begins to wear off, replaced by a dull, spreading ache that makes every breath feel like a struggle. The world around you is a cacophony of noise—sirens wailing, the frantic chatter of the marshals, the dull roar of the crowd beyond the barriers—but it all feels distant, muffled by the ringing in your ears.

"Try not to move too much," one of the medical staff instructs gently, his gloved hands already working to unbuckle you from the mangled remains of your car. "Can you feel everything?"

You give a small, shaky nod. "Yeah," you breathe, wincing as you shift slightly. "Just sore. Really sore."

The relief on his face is immediate, but the tension in the air remains. They move carefully, extracting you from the cockpit as gingerly as possible. As soon as you're free, your knees threaten to buckle, but strong arms catch you before you hit the ground.

"You’re alright, we’ve got you," another voice reassures, steadying you as they guide you toward the waiting medical car. The flash of cameras in the distance, the low hum of anxious murmurs from the pit lane—it all feels surreal.

The moment the checkered flag waves, Lando doesn’t care about anything else. Not the debrief, not the podium celebrations—none of it matters. His car screeches to a halt in parc fermé, barely lined up properly, but he’s already halfway out before the engine even fully shuts down. His hands rip off his steering wheel, then his helmet, tossing it aside as he breaks into a full sprint toward the medical center.

His lungs burn, but he doesn’t slow down. The only thing driving him forward is the sheer panic gripping his chest. His mind replays the crash on an agonizing loop—the way your car crumpled, how long it took for you to respond, the thought of losing you was eating him alive. He pushes past team personnel, ignoring their calls, shoving the medical center doors open with enough force to make them slam against the walls.

"Where is she?" His voice is sharp, almost desperate.

A nurse barely has time to react before he spots you. Sitting on the edge of the examination bed, bruised and battered, your race suit scuffed with streaks of dirt and dried blood. Your arm is wrapped around your ribs, and there’s a gash just below your glove, crimson seeping through the fabric. Your right knee is swollen, and every inhale looks like it stings.

But you’re alive.

Lando exhales a shuddering breath, his entire body sagging with relief. He crosses the room in seconds, reaching you like you might disappear if he doesn’t move fast enough. Without hesitation, he takes your hand, gripping it tightly like an anchor. His fingers ghost over your bruised knuckles, his touch impossibly gentle.

"Jesus, Y/N…" His voice is hoarse, cracking under the weight of the fear still clinging to him.

You manage a small, tired smile despite the pain. "I’m fine. Trust me, it’s not as bad as it looks."

His jaw clenches, eyes scanning you like he doesn’t quite believe you. "Not as bad as it looks? You scared the hell out of me. Don’t do that again. Ever."

The intensity of his words makes your chest tighten—not just from the bruises, but from the raw emotion behind them. You squeeze his hand, grounding him.

Later, after the doctors clear you—bruised ribs, mild concussion, but nothing broken—you limp out of the medical center, Lando’s arm wrapped protectively around your waist. Every step sends a dull ache through your body, but at least you’re standing.

David intercepts you, shifting awkwardly on his feet. "So, uh… don’t shoot the messenger, but you’re getting a fine for the team radio."

You blink. "You’re kidding, right?"

Before David can even answer, Lando scoffs, disbelief flashing across his face. "She just survived a high-speed crash, and they’re fining her for swearing? Seriously?"

David sighs, handing over the paperwork with an apologetic shrug. "Yeah… FIA wasn’t too happy. Regulations and all."

You stare at the notice for a beat before letting out a tired, incredulous laugh. "Yeah, okay. Next time I crash at 200 mph, I’ll be sure to say ‘gosh darn it’ instead."

Lando shakes his head, jaw tight with frustration. "Unbelievable."

But instead of dwelling on it, he just pulls you in closer, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. The warmth of his embrace eases some of the lingering tension in your body. "Don’t worry about it, love. If they want to fine you for being human, let them. You’re still the toughest person I know."

You smile, leaning into him, exhaustion settling deep in your bones. Because at the end of the day, a fine means nothing when you still have Lando by your side.

And, as expected, the media goes absolutely wild.

"Formula 1 Driver Y/N Y/L/N Fined After Shocking Radio Message Post-Crash!"

"Did Y/N Deserve Her FIA Penalty? Fans Debate Over Radio Outburst!"

"Y/N’s Crash Sparks Controversy: Was the Fine Justified?"

The headlines flood every social platform within minutes. Slow-motion replays of the crash loop endlessly on TV screens, side-by-side with grainy images of you wincing as you climbed out of the wreckage. Every angle is analyzed, every expression dissected.

Your post-race hospital visit is barely over when reporters start circling like vultures, bombarding you with questions before you even have the strength to face them, but Lando was having none of it.

Seated in front of the media, still in his race suit, Lando’s jaw is tight, hands clenched on the table as microphones are shoved toward him.

"Lando, there's been a lot of discussion about Y/N’s penalty for language over the team radio. Do you think the FIA was justified in issuing the fine?"

He scoffs, jaw tightening. "Are we seriously focusing on a fine when she just survived a massive crash?" His voice is sharp, edged with barely restrained anger. "She was in pain. She was shaken up. And she swore—who wouldn’t? It's ridiculous."

The journalists shift uncomfortably, but another one presses on. "Rules are rules, though. FIA has strict guidelines about profanity on public transmissions. Do you think it sets a bad precedent if they don’t enforce them?"

Lando lets out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. "Mate, if your first thought after seeing a crash like that is to talk about a penalty, maybe rethink your priorities."

Another journalist jumps in. "But don’t you think it’s important to maintain professionalism on the radio? A lot of young fans look up to drivers."

Lando rolls his eyes. "Right, because what’s really damaging to young fans isn’t the fact that someone just had a life-threatening accident, but the fact that she said ‘fuck’ while trying to breathe properly again." He leans forward, voice lower but no less cutting. "If we’re talking role models, maybe start by making sure the sport actually supports its drivers instead of fining them for reacting like a human being."

His words are already making waves, clips spreading across social media.

And while you’re still exhausted, still aching from the crash, there’s something about seeing him so openly, fiercely in your corner that makes your heart ache in the best way.

Even after the official interviews, the media frenzy doesn’t stop. Paparazzi crowd outside the paddock, desperate for a statement. Team members act as buffers, but there’s only so much they can do.

As you slowly make your way out of the motorhome, Lando’s arm firmly around your waist, cameras flash, voices overlapping as reporters shout over each other.

"Y/N, do you think the FIA’s decision was fair?"

"Do you regret your words on the radio?"

"Lando, how did it feel watching the crash happen live?"

He tenses beside you. "How do you think it felt?" His voice is sharp, protective. "I watched someone I love crash at full speed. So no, I don’t really give a damn about some radio penalty right now."

You squeeze his hand in silent gratitude. He doesn’t have to be this involved, but he is. Always.

Another journalist turns to you, voice softer but no less intrusive. "Y/N, how are you feeling after the accident?"

You exhale, trying to keep your expression neutral despite the lingering pain. "Sore, obviously. But I’m okay."

"Will you be racing in the next Grand Prix?"

Lando answers before you can. "She’s focusing on recovery first. That’s the priority."

It’s not a direct confirmation, but it’s enough to hold off the speculation—at least for now.

The chaos of the day finally starts to feel like a distant memory as you curl up on the couch in Lando’s apartment. An ice pack rests gently on your ribs, offering some comfort against the bruising, but it’s Lando’s presence that truly calms you. His arm drapes protectively around you, pulling you in close like he never wants to let go, his warmth surrounding you in a way that makes you feel safe. His thumb moves in slow, soothing circles on your arm, the rhythm gentle and steady.

It’s such a contrast to the frantic energy of the day—the flashing cameras, the endless questions, the tension in the air—but now, in this moment, all of that feels like it belongs to another world. This is where you’re grounded.

You sigh, resting your head against his shoulder, letting the quietness of the room wrap around you like a soft blanket. But there’s something still heavy in the pit of your stomach, a lingering feeling that something was unsettled. You tilt your head up to look at him, your eyes tracing the faint lines of worry still etched across his face, the tension that’s only now starting to ease from his features.

"You didn’t have to go that hard for me," you murmur, your voice soft, though you know the words don’t quite do justice to what you’re feeling. You had been overwhelmed by everything that happened, but he—he had been beside you every step of the way, his every move showing how deeply he cared.

He scoffs, shaking his head slowly like the idea is completely foreign to him. "Of course I did. It’s bullshit," he mutters, his voice laced with frustration that hasn’t quite gone away. "You should be getting support, not fined for a stupid word." The words come out with a little more heat than he intends, but it’s the underlying softness in his voice, the way he’s speaking to you like he wants to protect you from the world’s unfairness, that makes your heart flutter.

You chuckle softly, a tired sound that makes his grip on you tighten just a fraction, like he’s afraid you might slip away. "Guess I owe you, huh?" you tease, trying to lighten the mood.

Lando’s response is immediate—he presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering there for a moment longer than necessary. His hands shift, cradling you with a tenderness that almost feels too gentle, like you’re something precious he’s afraid to break. "Just don’t scare me like that again," he whispers, his voice barely above a breath, as though the thought of you being hurt again is more than he can bear. "And we’ll call it even."

You smile up at him, heart full of warmth for this man who always seems to put your well-being before his own. But you can’t promise him that. You know how the sport works, how unpredictable it is. You’ll never be able to give him that guarantee.

But there’s something you can promise him, something more important. You squeeze his hand, the simple act grounding you both in this moment. Your voice is steady as you look up into his eyes, locking your gaze with his. "No matter what happens," you say, the words firm but soft, a promise from the deepest part of you, "you’ll always have me. I’ll always have you."

His expression softens in a way that makes you think he’s heard every unspoken word in your statement, and for a moment, neither of you speaks. The air between you feels full—full of shared understanding, full of the love you have for each other, full of the promise that no matter the challenges, no matter the risks, you’ll face it all side by side.

For a long moment, Lando is quiet, his thumb still brushing over your skin in slow, absentminded strokes. But then his breath catches slightly, and when you glance up, you see it—the way his eyes shimmer with unshed tears. His jaw tenses as if he’s trying to hold it all back, but the emotion is too heavy, too raw.

"I thought I lost you," he admits, his voice breaking just enough to reveal the fear he’s been holding in. "When everything was happening, and I couldn’t reach you..." He trails off, shaking his head as if trying to push the memory away, but his grip on you tightens like he never wants to let go again. "I don’t know what I would’ve done if—"

"Hey," you interrupt softly, your hand moving to cup his face, your thumb brushing against the dampness on his cheek. "I’m here. I’m okay. And I’m not going anywhere."

That seems to break whatever wall he was trying to hold up. Lando lets out a shaky breath, his forehead dropping against yours as he closes his eyes. "I just... I can’t lose you," he confesses, the words raw and vulnerable in a way that makes your chest ache. "Not you."

You press a soft kiss to his lips, hoping it conveys everything words can’t. "You won’t," you promise against his mouth, your voice unwavering. "I’m right here."

He nods slightly, like he’s trying to believe it, and when he pulls you into his arms again, it’s with a desperation that speaks to how close he felt to losing you. But in this moment, with his heart laid bare and your arms wrapped tightly around each other, there’s nothing else that matters.

Lando kisses you gently on the forehead, his lips lingering there for just a second longer. "That’s all I need," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. Then, his arms pull you even closer, his warmth radiating through your bones.

[fromdove]

ㅤㅤ ⁞ 𝓓AMIAN 𝓐L-𝓖HUL-𝓦AYNE

ㅤㅤㅤ𝓦HEN 𝓗E'S 𝓘N 𝓛OVE 𝓗EADCANONS !

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ୨୧

— damian wayne when he's in love hcs ᵎᵎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

— I know I already did a damian wayne in love hcs but I wanted to do another one ᵎᵎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

— damian wayne x fem!reader ᵎᵎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

© fromdove— All rights reserved. Reposting, translation, or modification of these works is strictly prohibited, regardless of whether credit is given.

∿　 　 . `💭` ㆍ

⤷ ok so. first of all. he doesn’t think he falls in love. he thinks he allows himself to be in love. yes. that’s the distinction. he permits the emotional vulnerability to occur. like it’s a security clearance. like the state department signed off on it. like it’s a diplomatic treaty. love with damian is not some flower blooming. it is a classified operation that got out of hand. oops

⤷ and HE’S SO IRRITATING ABOUT YOUR SAFETY. like you want to go to a concert alone and he’s like “no. the venue has three open exits and a history of overcrowding. i’ll accompany you or you’re not going.” and you’re like 😐 and he’s like 🗿

⤷ he doesn’t compliment you like a normal person. he says things like “you’re the only one with a functioning brain in this city” and “your genetic makeup is statistically superior” and “if i had to pick a partner for an international espionage mission i’d pick you.” thanks?? i think???

⤷ dude. alright. listen. you have to understand. this is a boy raised by assassins and billionaires and batman. like he’s not normal. like if you try to do something normal with him he malfunctions. like “do you want to come over and watch a movie” turns into a whole debate about the nature of narrative and also suddenly he’s ordering a projector and rearranging your furniture and asking if the lighting is optimal. like your honor. we were going to watch legally blonde. relax.

⤷ he is in love with you but he’s in denial about it for the first 3–6 business months. he doesn’t say anything. he just starts appearing. you look up and he’s already there. he claims he was “in the area.” he was not. he has never been in the area. he took a grappling hook and an imported black car and made himself be in the area.

⤷ anyways he is sooooooo in love and SOOOOOOOO bad at dealing with it. like yes he grew up training with the league of assassins but no he has not developed a single healthy coping mechanism about feelings. NONE. zero. zilch. love is the final boss. and he’s underleveled

⤷ long stares. long long long. awkwardly long. you’ll be brushing your teeth and look up and he’s just. standing there. arms crossed. watching. “you’re quite graceful. even at mundane tasks.” ok damian what the hell. brush your own teeth and stop making me blush at 7am

⤷ he’s like. weirdly formal?? like you’ll be sitting on his lap playing animal crossing and he’ll be like “you’re very dear to me.” and you’ll be like ok first of all why do you sound like an 18th century count and second of all WHY DID THAT MAKE ME BLUSH

⤷ he calls you beloved. like that’s his go-to. he does not say “babe.” he does not say “sweetie.” he says beloved like he is writing from the war trenches. LMAO. like he’s penning a letter with a quill. “my dearest beloved, war is hell. gotham is colder without you. i miss your lip balm.”

⤷ ALSO he is so clingy. but in his own damian kind of way. like he will never straight up say “i miss you” but he’ll appear outside your window at 3am because you didn’t text back. “i was in the area.” no you weren’t damian

⤷ and when you fight. oh my god you fight. hoo boy. because he’s STUBBORN. and you’re you. and he’ll say something awful and cold and you’ll slam the door and not talk for a week and he’ll act all smug but he’ll show up at your window like “are you done being dramatic?” with a single perfect peach because you once said you liked them and he never forgot. he does end up apologizing formally tho like “i was... wrong. and unkind. i apologize.”

⤷ even if you don't fight crime he will still buy you a 6000 dollar custom-made tactical suit because “i noticed you lacked proper armor.” it’s black. with little green accents. matches his. you cried. he blinked and said “there’s a grappling hook too.” you cried harder. he looked vaguely alarmed and offered you tea

⤷ lowkey kinda unpopular opinion (i think???).....buttttt once you realllyyy get to know him,,, he’s v big on touch. but only in private (!!! he doesn't do pda tbh). arm around your waist when no one’s looking. hand on your lower back. gloved fingers brushing yours like he’s not thinking about it (he is). forehead touches. pulling you into his hoodie. tucking your legs over his lap while he reads. being completely silent while you cry but holding you like he’ll kill whatever made you feel this way. because he will.

⤷ he’s not really a hearts and flowers guy. but like. he’s very much a “i broke a guy’s jaw for looking at you too long” guy. very “i memorized your class schedule and made sure no one sits next to you” guy. very “i learned how to make your favorite soup and now i’m mad you’re not impressed” guy. very “i installed a new security system in your apartment. no you don’t get a say. yes i’m keeping the passcode” guy.

dates??? HAHAHAHAHAHAHA ok. deserves its own section.

dates with him are like. war strategy. no such thing as casual with him. no. no no. no. everything is intentional. everything is curated. calculated. coordinated. he's like "i made a reservation." and it's at some place with a 3-month waitlist and a single-item menu and food that looks like pebbles. and ur like “could we not have just gotten tacos??” and he’s like “you deserve better than tacos.” .......................................................he says it in the most offhanded way but ur already spinning. ur already sending ur soul to orbit.

like it can be “i booked us fencing lessons in case you get kidnapped again” or “i acquired the rooftop of that patisserie you like because you said you liked the view.” like THANK YOU BATBOY WHAT THE FUCK

he doesn’t --> ask <-- (keyword) you out. no no no. he **TELLS*** you. “we have dinner reservations. 7 sharp. wear something warm.” and you’re like. okay??? damn?? who’s we??? and then it’s just him and you and some obscure albanian place in gotham that “reminds him of a time he interrogated someone in tirana.” romantic!!!

they’re never normal. ever. like my guy why r we eating in an exclusive rooftop garden u rented for me.... and why the actual fuck does it technically belongs to a russian ambassador ???????!!!! HHELLOO?

but also. also. as much as u go to eccentric,,, expensive,, veryyy planned out dates .. you still have dates where u sit on rooftops. you eat mangoes. you say nothing for twenty minutes because he’s comfortable in silence. because you are too. because he touches your ankle with his and that says more than anything.

⤷ he loves graphs. he’s so... annoying. he has a favorites spreadsheet for restaurants. and another for your moods. and another for gifts you've liked. u found it once. he closed the tab too fast. embarrassed. blushing. you teased him for a week.

⤷ once you cried on his shirt and apologized for it and he just. looked at you. like loooooookedddddddd at you. and said “you’re allowed to fall apart. i’ll be here when you do.” and u almost blacked out.

⤷ he talks about the future like it’s inevitable. “when we get a place.” “when we go to xyz.” “when you graduate.” he says it like there’s no version of life that doesn’t include you. like he can’t even imagine it. like it’s already written.

⤷ he doesn’t say “i’m proud of you.” he says: “of course you did. i expected nothing less.” (but the corners of his mouth twitch and his ears turn red. he’s proud. he’s so proud.)

⤷ he gets weird about your birthday. like. insane. he pretends he doesn’t care. he acts like it’s “just another day.” but you walk into your room and there’s a leather-bound copy of your favorite book with your initials embossed in gold. and tickets to an exhibit he overheard you mention one time six months ago. and a note. handwritten. in flawless cursive. that just says: “for everything you are. - d.” stop it damian. i’m going to cry into a cupcake.

⤷ he has no chill. ZERO chill. you are sneezing and he’s like “have you had vitamin C today.” someone looks at you funny and he’s like “i’ll break their jaw.” you say you’re cold and he wordlessly hands you his cape. the WHOLE cape. you’re drowning. he does not care. he thinks it’s cute

⤷ he glares at anyone who flirts with you like he’s deciding whether to break their legs or just ruin them socially. (he will do both. eventually. he’s efficient like that.) and when you tease him for being jealous he’s like “i do not experience jealousy. i experience possessiveness.” ok medieval knight whatever

⤷ also?? he TRIES to be cool and detached but the moment you compliment him? he malfunctions. like you say “you look handsome today” and he scoffs but his ears are red. FULL tomato. “tch. you’re foolish. i look the same every day.” sir you are glowing. you are combusting

⤷ and andddd he’s so so so tender in private. like “i cleaned your shoes for you” tenderness. “i annotated your favorite book with my commentary” tenderness. “i fixed the loose button on your coat” tenderness. he will never SAY “i love you” like a normal person. he will just DO THINGS. and STARE at you. a LOT

⤷ OH and when you get sick it is OVER. done. you’re in bed and suddenly there’s like. imported raw honey. five different teas. a humidifier. night vision cameras installed in case of intruders. he is kneeling at your bedside like a knight. he won’t let you get up for water. “you are in recovery. i’ll bring it to you. stay still.” ok. nurse ratched. love you

⤷ also he pets your hair like you’re a cat. like he will gently run his fingers through it while you talk about your day. doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. you mention it and he goes “your hair calms me.” you melt. obviously. puddle on the floor. he smirks. he knows. bastard

⤷ HE KEEPS THINGS. like. a little doodle you made on a napkin? framed. the necklace you left at his place once? he wears it under his uniform. he keeps it a secret obvi. you didn’t know for 6 months. cried when you somehow found out. obviously

⤷ he texts you "do not walk home alone. wait." and then appears. literally appears. like the wind shifts and suddenly he’s there with a helmet in his hand and a scowl on his face and a thousand unspoken thoughts like “i will kill for you. i will die for you. i will beat up your physics teacher if he makes you cry again.”

⤷ he’ll buy you a 200 dollar first edition of something obscure and then be like “it’s not a gift. i just thought it should be in your collection. don’t get emotional.” meanwhile ur emotional. ur on the floor. ur sobbing in a barnes & noble tote bag. he knows. he smirks. asshole.

⤷ but he notices everything. if you get a haircut. if your eyeliner is different. if your tone was off. if you’re chewing on your nail again. he sees it all. and he remembers. and he’s quietly doing things about it in the background. like refilling your meds or slipping snacks into your bag or hacking into your school portal and fixing a grade because “that teacher was clearly incompetent”

⤷ also. he doesn’t flirt. he argues. you’ll be like “i like this song” and he’ll be like “your taste is objectively inferior” and then buy you front row tickets to that artist’s next concert. he’ll say it’s to “broaden your cultural exposure” but he’s watching you the whole concert like you’re the show. don’t let him lie.

[blueberrybirdsworld]

Out of frame 2/4

Summary : Y/N and Lando Norris have been together for three years. Their relationship is real, steady, and full of quiet love but always behind the scenes. While fans know they’re a couple, Lando has never posted about her, avoids public displays of affection, and never mentions her in interviews. At first, Y/N understood. She believed it was about privacy, about protecting what they had. But over time, being constantly left out of frame has started to hurt.

Genre : angst, SMAU

Pairing : Lando Norris x reader

Faceclaim : @suanbeiii

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

@landonorris 📍Tokyo, Japan

Incredible night. Thank you to everyone who came out to support us. Big things coming 🫡

@_user1 he really posted all his friends but not his gf again... yikes

@_user2 is Y/N not in Japan with him? 😭

@_user3 nah this is getting embarrassing at this point. she literally always supports him and he can’t even tag her once??

@_user4 QUADRANT IN JAPAN LET’S GOOOO🔥

@_user5 the helmet is SICK omg 🔥

@_user6 weird how he never has a problem posting the boys 👀

@_user8 so hyped for this drop!! love seeing quadrant going global 💥

@_user10 where’s the queen?? y’all okay??

@_user11 y/n deserves a man who posts her like she posts him. period.

@your_username 📍Monaco

Girls can buy themself flowers too 💐

@_user1 wait. no japan trip for y/n this time?

@_user2 something’s off. they never miss a race weekend together 😶

@_user3 how is she real 😭😭 Lando you better be sending her flowers too!!

@_user4 the softest prettiest queen 🩷 Lando won the lottery and acts like he forgot

@_user5 Lando… be fr. how do you not post HER???

@_user6 she looks like a dream. if my gf looked like this I’d post her every 5 minutes lol

@_user7 you’re literally the prettiest person I’ve ever seen I can’t even hate you I’m obsessed 🥲

@_user8 i don’t care what’s going on but if he lets her go… we need to talk, Lando 😭

@_user9 okay but where do I sign up to be your girlfriend if Lando’s slacking??

@_user10 I hope he knows what he has. because the rest of us DO.

Texts messages

Lando You didn’t like the flowers I sent you?

Lando Seriously, Y/N? That post? What is that supposed to mean?

Y/N It means exactly what it says.

Lando So you ignore my apology and post something that makes it look like I did something wrong ?

Y/N You sent flowers. That’s not an apology, Lando. It’s a gesture. A pretty one, but not what I needed.

Lando You always want more. It’s never enough with you.

Y/N Because you don’t listen. I told you how I felt and you acted like I was being dramatic. I didn’t ask for a parade. Just for you to acknowledge me

Lando So you skip the race, don’t say a word for days, and make me look like an idiot online?

Y/N I said I had work.

Lando No. You said “don’t worry about it.” That’s code for “figure it out or I’m gone,” right?

Y/N You want to talk about code? Because not posting me, not bringing me up, not defending me when people speculate, THAT’s a message too.

Lando I thought keeping us private protected you

Y/N It doesn’t feel like protection, it makes me feel like a secret

Lando This again…

Y/N Yes. Again. Because you keep brushing it off like I’m asking you to tattoo my name on your forehead

Lando You want public affection. Fine. But maybe you could’ve talked to me instead of putting it on Instagram?

Y/N I tried to talk. You shut down. You always do.

Lando Because every time I mess up, you make me feel like I’m never enough

Y/N And every time I open up, you make me feel like I'm too much

Lando Right. Okay. Here we go.

Y/N Yeah. Here we go. Again. You don’t want to make the effort? That’s fine. Your loss.

Lando You know that’s not fair

Y/N Neither is loving someone who makes you feel invisible

Lando I have a race to focus on.

Y/N Enjoy it, Lando.

Lando Sure.

@F1LiveMoments 🎥Live interview moment of Lando at the Japan GP

Interviewer: “We didn’t see your girlfriend this weekend, is she not in Japan with you?” Lando Norris: laughs “Which girlfriend?”

@_user1 nah “which girlfriend” is CRAZY??? like are you trying to be single or stupid 😭

@_user2 he really said that on live TV… with a mic… and a camera… okay.

@_user3 and this is the man she’s been flying around the world to support in silence 💀

@_user4 he better deactivate, apologize and send 400 roses

@_user6 this girl has been nothing but quiet and supportive and he humiliates her like that? I’d be GONE.

@_user7 you can’t be “private” and also crack jokes like that… pick a struggle 😐

@_user8 and then men will say “why is she upset with me” like sir… you said WHICH GIRLFRIEND

@_user9 his media training just packed its bags and left the building

@_user10 @your_username deserves BETTER. we’re all saying it.

@_user12 this man’s idea of romance is “which girlfriend” I can’t breathe 😭😭😭

@your_username 📍Monaco

Sunday ritual 🧡

@_user1 she still supports him after that interview?? I’d be EMBARRASSED

@_user2 baby you didn’t see the clip, right?? pls say you didn’t

@_user3 I have to respect the loyalty but girl… the way he said “which girlfriend” like it was nothing 🤡

@_user4 wait… WHY is she still watching him like this?? I’m actually speechless

@_user5 this is such a sweet post but… after that live interview 😬

@_user6 girl did you see the interview from yesterday 💀

@your_username which interview?

@_user9 oh no oh no oh no 😭😭😭 she doesn’t KNOW

@_user10 this one comment just ended their relationship for real

@_user12 NAH IM SCARED. SOMEONE TAKE HER PHONE AWAY

@_user13 Lando better call her RIGHT NOW because this is about to go so bad

Texts messages :

Y/N “Which girlfriend?” Are you fucking serious right now?

Y/N Was that funny to you? Was humiliating me on live TV was what you needed?

Y/N You really went out there and said that like we’re nothing. Like I never existed.

Lando Y/N... Don’t do this.

Y/N Don’t do what, Lando? Get mad that my boyfriend made a joke like he doesn’t even know me?

Lando You didn’t want to come to Japan. You literally said you needed space What was I supposed to do?

Y/N NOT JOKE THAT YOU HAVE MULTIPLE GIRLFRIENDS ON LIVE TV MAYBE? Just a thought.

Lando It was sarcasm. The interviewer caught me off guard

Y/N No, what caught you off guard was the reality of being called out for once

Lando I didn’t mean it like that

Y/N You never do. That’s the problem.

Y/N Everything’s a joke or a deflection or a fucking PR-safe answer You don't even realize how much it hurt. You made me feel invisible

Lando You ghosted me for a week. You turned down my calls, ignored my flowers, and posted some cryptic caption like I never tried

Y/N Because sending flowers isn’t trying, Lando. It’s damage control

Y/N I was begging for real effort, for presence, for proof that I matter to you

Y/N And you know what you gave me? A joke about having multiple girlfriends ??

Lando It was a stupid moment. I panicked

Y/N God, do you even hear yourself?

Y/N You panicked and defaulted to disrespect. That says more than anything

Lando Okay well maybe if you were actually there we could have talked like normal people.

Y/N Don’t flip this on me.

Y/N I didn’t come because I was hurt, Lando. I needed space to breathe, not to be mocked globally

Y/N You know how hard it’s been? I kept telling myself you just needed time, that you were scared. Or shy. Or private

Y/N But maybe you were just comfortable keeping me secret, comfortable not choosing me when it’s inconvenient

Lando That’s not true.

Y/N Then prove it

Lando I’m trying to...

Y/N Trying would’ve been not letting those words leave your mouth.

Lando I messed up, okay? I didn’t think. I was tired and pissed...

Y/N No. You chose the words.

Y/N Enjoy the rest of Japan. Don’t worry about me.

Lando Y/N…

Y/N No. Fuck you, Norris.

Taglist (closed) : @angelluv16, @httpsxnox, @anunstablefangirl, @chocolatemagazinecupcake, @mayax2o07, @freyathehuntress, @verogonewild, @lilyofthevalley-09, @esw1012, @its-me-frankie, @linneaguriii, @ezzi-ln4, @rlbmutynnek, @actuallyazriel, @sofs16, @thulior, @sltwins, @henna006, @stylesmoonlight12, @lilaissa, @sideboobrry11, @l3thal-l0lita, @lorena-mv33, @ispywlittleeye-blog, @lesliiieeeee, @sageskiesf1, @adynorris, @curlylando, @rebelliousneferut, @justcharlotte, @secret-agents-stole-my-bunnies, @emneedshelp, @lando-505, @yukimaniac, @sashisuslover, @f1norris04, @hi26loveie, @bunnisplayground, @nina481, @reallifemermaidprincess, @cars-and-frogs, @delululeclerc, @txmhxllqnd, @lydia-demarek, @destinyg237, @rhaenyrasversion, @sarascabiosa, @readz4u, @tvdtw4ever, @mynameisangeloflife, @teti-menchon0604, @suns3treading, @op814kitty, @prettyboyroseberg, @willowsnook, @ariesandwolves, @clarksgf, @knivesdoingcartwheels, @pinklemonade34, @fat-meh, @tiaajosephin, @landosbabe4, @easy4, @jule239, @mercrussell, @skylandori, @ryuucollapse, @nickie-amore, @fairyjinn, @seonaw, @mattslovelygf, @strawberrylov-er, @linnygirl09, @dilflover44, @bell1a, @f1fantasys, @sillyfreakfanparty, @janonymus0, @taetae-armyyyyy, @charlesgirl16, @angstynasty, @jules-bea2308, @afternoonarchive, @itsbieberxholland, @rexit-mo, @chlmtfilms, @vampgege, @mochimommy2002, @budgetcupid, @lemon-stvrrr, @bell1a, @taebearyoongs, @hazzasmunchkin, @sainz0fthetimes, @didaaa4, @madelyn2000, @il0vereadingstuff, @march32nd, @chlmtfilms, @literallysza, @cheapdocmartens, @wolfstarsimpxx, @pretzelcat4-blog, @larya810, @6-noir, @urfavftoomie, @ficr3ccs, @strawberrylov-er, @wosof1, @behindmygreyeyes, @justheretoreadthxxs, @pinklemonade34, @ninass-world, @landosbabe4, @leclercdream, @raynetargaryan2,

[astrologydray]

How Each Mars Sign Handles Anger (Or Doesn’t)🙄😚

🔥 Aries Mars – Immediate explosion. Zero to 100 real quick. They don’t hold back—they yell, throw things, and go off impulsively before even thinking. But once they get it out, they’re completely over it and expect you to be too like ho is you coo?😭

🐂 Taurus Mars – Slow burn, but when they snap—RUN. They try to stay calm, but their anger builds like an earthquake—silent at first, then destructive as hell. They hold grudges forever and will make you pay in the pettiest way possible.

👯‍♂️ Gemini Mars – Fights with words. Instead of yelling, they hit you with verbal jabs and sarcastic insults that leave you questioning your existence. They argue for sport, dragging you into a debate where you’ll lose even if they’re wrong🫠.

🦀 Cancer Mars – Silent treatment + emotional warfare. They act moody and passive-aggressive, expecting you to figure out what’s wrong. But if you really hurt them, they’ll bring up something from five years ago to make sure you feel it😩.

🦁 Leo Mars – Dramatic AF. They’ll put on a whole performance, make sure everyone knows they’re mad, and throw in a monologue about how they were disrespected. If you don’t apologize properly, expect to be publicly called out🤣.

👩‍⚕️ Virgo Mars – Judges you to death. They might not yell, but they’ll tear you apart with criticism, making you feel stupid for even existing. Their anger is calculated—they’ll say something so blunt and cutting, you’ll be thinking about it for months.

⚖️ Libra Mars – Acts chill but is secretly pissed. They hate conflict but also hate losing, so they’ll throw subtle shade, act passive-aggressive, or even gaslight you into thinking it’s your fault. If you REALLY cross them, they’ll destroy you socially.

🦂 Scorpio Mars – Plays the long game. They won’t explode right away, but trust they’re plotting revenge. Their anger is deep, intense, and COLD—they’ll cut you off and make you regret ever crossing them, and you’ll never see it coming.

🏹 Sagittarius Mars – Screams, then laughs. They blow up fast, say some wild, offensive things, then act like nothing happened. But their anger is short-lived—they’d rather roast you and move on than stay mad for too long😐.

🐐 Capricorn Mars – Cold, calculated, and dangerous. They stay composed, but inside they’re fuming. Instead of arguing, they’ll wait until they can ruin your life in a way that benefits them. If they cut you off, consider yourself erased from existence.

👽 Aquarius Mars – Acts unbothered but is secretly judging you. They either detach completely or hit you with condescending logic that makes you feel dumb for even trying to argue. If they snap, it’s an unpredictable, chaotic mess.

🐟 Pisces Mars – Cries, plays the victim, then vanishes. Their anger is messy—they might break down emotionally, guilt-trip you, or just disappear like a ghost when they’re mad. But don’t underestimate them—they can sneakily sabotage you too.

Thank Y’all for reading 🤪🤪🤪

[darkredsugarcookie]

Hi!! I’m new here so I’m sorry if I do this wrong. Just want to send some Thunderbolts!Bucky ideas maybe he called his girlfriend (the reader) for backup (maybe she’s a former shield agent) but didn’t share too many info with the group and they all a little surprised to find out he has a girlfriend

Let me know what you think, thanks!

i absolutely LOVE this!!! Ever since I saw Thunderbolts I've been thinking about almost this exact thing and I got another ask for something similar, so here we are! I'm also tempted to make a part two of this but focus on the two of them more and make it a comfort thing to apologize for my shame room fic LOL

love you 3000!

Signed Up For This

Word count: 1,143

As far as the media knew, the two of you were nothing more than acquaintances. 

But it was a bond that had gone back a lifetime, from when the two of you had first met when you were fresh out of escaping the Red Room, to when he was the contact you had made to get a fresh start on life and he was in the process of trying to make amends with his existence, so he had offered to get coffee. “We both need some… new connections,” he had said, offering that awkward smile that you had fallen for almost as quickly as he’d fallen for you. 

It was your idea to keep it a secret. You knew how he felt about weaknesses and you were currently the only one he really had. If anyone knew the truth… God, it terrified him. The idea of losing the one pure and right thing he’d gained in this side of the century drove him into a panic more often than he’d admit. So he was glad you had brought it up, worried you might be offended or think he was ashamed of you.

Which was what made him making you the head of his security when he decided to run for Congress a little out of the blue, but you took it. Any opportunity to be close. Plus… who said sneaking around at work was for teenagers? 

But tonight, you had a different reason for asking to speak to him in private in the middle of the fundraiser gala. You knew that look on his face. That look that said he was plotting when he very much should not have been. 

“What are you thinking?” you asked, peeking around the corner for a moment before your gaze fixed on him again. It was a miracle his hair had stayed in place, but there was a reason he always made you do it for him. “I can see that look.”

“What look?” he replied, that dumb grin you’d fallen for years ago pulling at his mouth. “I’m not thinking.”

“You are such a liar, James Barnes. I can see it. Whatever you’re thinking, leave it alone. We are past our meddling days.”

“I’m not meddling,” he said. 

You tilted your head. “Do not let this stuff with Valentina get personal. You can’t afford to get in trouble with all this.” 

“The politics don’t—”

“I’m not talking about politics,” you said. “I’m talking about you, Buck. We don’t know for sure what’s going on and we can’t act until we do. Otherwise we’ll be in just as much trouble as she is.”

“I talked to her assistant,” Bucky said. 

“Her assistant? Mel?” 

“Yes. She’s on the fence.” 

“Okay. Tell her to call you when she’s made a decision. Don’t make it your job to change her mind,” you said, taking a step closer. He just stood there a moment, looking you over. Not in that ‘get in the office and take off that dress’ kind of way he normally did, but like he was just taking in your existence. “You told me that my job as your security is to keep you safe. But my job as your fiance is to make sure that we’re not making dumb decisions. Let Mel come to you.”

He nodded, reaching for your waist to tug your body closer. Normally you’d pull away in a setting like this, even hidden, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do so. Not now. Not when you had that feeling in your stomach that something was just off. And that feeling had never led you astray. “I just make your job harder, don’t I?” he said with a small, teasing smile. 

“You do, but I signed up for it,” you replied. 

“I’ll be good,” he said, nodding. “But… Mel’s just a kid. If she needs help—”

“Help her,” I said. “And if she needs more than that, call me.” 

He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your mouth. “My best girl,” he whispered. 

“Always.”

And you should’ve known after that conversation that it was only a matter of time. Within thirty-six hours, you were sent a pin drop link to some place in the middle of nowhere and a message that just said “need you.”

You’d tugged on that leather uniform jacket you hadn’t touched in a long time and braided back your hair before pulling up to some abandoned garage in the middle of nowhere, intel in hand. You could hear voices from inside, something about a “Bob” and exclamations of words you hardly understood. 

You shoved through the rusted door, swiping up on the tab in your hands. “She took over the old Avengers tower,” you said, approaching and offering Bucky the tablet. “Heat signatures say she has the place crawling with security and I ran facial rec on the guy she brought in early this morning.”

“So guns blazing is the only way in,” Bucky said, reaching to squeeze your hand in a silent thank you. 

You shrugged your shoulders. “Guess so,” you replied before turning to the abstract group of circus people tied up in front of you. And John. “What the hell happened here? Bucky, I told you to just leave Walker alone, he’s been through enough.”

“Who are you?” the little blonde in black asked. If you squinted, you might recognize her. Like some sort of really distant, childhood memory. 

Bucky blew out a breath before you could answer. “She’s my fiance.”

“Your what?” came from all four of them. 

“He’s married?” the brunette asked. 

“In the process,” I corrected. 

“How did that happen?” Walker muttered. 

“Oh, that is cute!” the large one exclaimed, seeming to be way too happy considering the circumstance.

You glanced at Bucky, your arms folded over your chest. “This is… who was so important?” 

“They’re witnesses,” Bucky said, giving you a look as if to tell you to be kind. 

A sigh escaped your lips as you looked at the others. “Most ragtag team I’ve ever seen,” you said, shaking your head. “What, exactly, is the plan here?”

“Well, originally, they were my witnesses,” Bucky said, tucking his phone into his back pocket. “But now the agenda looks a little different. Take out Val, help Bob. Then we go home.” 

“Bob?” You asked. “Like Robert?” You took the tablet from his hands and swiped it open. “Yeah, he’s a big deal now. If we’re gonna move, we need to do it fast.” You swapped a knowing look with Bucky as he nodded. “I’ll start the car.” 

As you made your way towards the door, you heard the voices behind you. 

“So you’re really not all bite, huh?” one of the girls said. 

“Someone really does have a soft spot.”

“Isn’t that cute."

And despite yourself, a small smile pulled at your lips.

[candiyaa]

what would the upper ranks reaction to reader ignoring them after a fight ><

LOVEEE ITTT thanks for requesting, I didn't know if u mean to include Muzan or not but so I added him !! ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍒ɞ˚‧｡⋆

WHEN THEIR S/O IGNORES THEM AFTER A FIGHT

MUZAN KIBUTSUJI

Completely unfazed at first.

Genuinely couldn't care less, he believes his point was valid and that you're overreacting.

Stubborn +++

Although the hours are getting long and he won't admit it but he's getting bored without you.

Would intently stare at you from across the room hoping you'll catch on and come back to him.

Intense staring contest at that.

Lightly considered the idea of apologizing, then came back to his senses.

This word is not even in his vocabulary.

He would go back and forth silently in front of your room, monitoring checking on you in secret.

Well not that secret...cuz you can feel his tormented aura miles away.

It started to gnaw at him yet he couldn't break character and act all needy with you so he played it nonchalant : he went to go get your favs in a pretty basket (he might be a villain and manipulator but he does know and has studied well his s/o to their likes and dislikes) and came to give it to you. Yes with that "I just happened to find this stuff so now I'm giving it to you as an act of kindness" kinda vibe. He gently holds your hand as a little sign of affection, yet it's subtle. (HE JUST WANTED SOME CONTACT AFTER ALL THESE HOURS)

"It's okay to be wrong, you see. It's simply part of life, I presume."

"BUT YOU'RE THE ONE WHO WAS WRONG-"

"Shhh, just eat now. So noisy..."

KOKUSHIBO

Just like Muzan, he was genuinely stubborn on the fact that his point was valid.

Gave you the silent treatment too.

Yet for certain reasons , he refused to leave your sides.

There was no talking. No nothing. Yet you could go in the kitchen to grab a drink, he'd be there too, doing his own thing. Leaving to go on the couch and relax in front of TV, there he is AGAIN, following you, reading a book in his fav armchair.

You even thought he was simply teasing you and trying to annoy you even more, and perhaps there was a bit of that too.

Yet it just genuinely felt so natural to be around you that he couldn't help it.

After some time, he'll just start staring at you, YES WITH THOSE SIX DAMN ETHEREAL EYES, NONSTOP. (no blinking either 😔..)

He wants to make you crack first because in his mind, he still doesn't see where is he at fault in all this.

He's more mature than Muzan tho and eventually starts to get tired of this little silent treatment game.

So, after some time ofc he's the first one to crack :

"Are you done being childish now ? I may have made a mistake, but then can we talk about it like grown adults ? I'm willing to apologize if you agree to have a talk about it."

DOMA

THAT DAMNN CRAZY AHH B

Laughs in your face.

Pushing your buttons to the very edge bc it amuses him.

Really having the best time of his life.

Though when you really get upset and give him the silent treatment, whole mood changes.

His facial expression changes, he's upset that you're upset.

And he's upset at himself for not understanding what really went wrong.

He leaves your side for some time.

Actually goes pondering and wonders if there's an emotion he didn't quite catch.

He eventually comes back, mask back on, boisterious personality back on and simply goes :

"Here, aren't these your favorite ? Ahh, it'd be such a shame if I had to eat them all by myself, don't you think ?"

Teases you with it. (Doma will forever stay Doma..)

You just know that it's his way of apologizing, so you simply accept and here you are, both on good terms again and eating sweets.

Although you did catch that tiny, genuine, reassured smiled even if it quickly disappeared as soon as you spotted it.

Creepy smile back on!!

AKAZA

He pauses.

Didn't actually mean to upset you.

Arguments are usually what he avoids yet this time it had to happen.

He spirals, wondering if his point was wrong or if he just didn't understand yours.

Deep pondering.

Completely against the idea of you giving him the silent treatment , if there's any misunderstanding, he wants to clear it as quickly as possible.

He's obviously the first to reach out, determined to have a talk with you.

Comes with your favs ofccc + flowers!!

"Hey, I think we both spoke in the heat of the moment and said things we didn't mean. I apologize if I upset you in any way, I just want to understand...Can we talk ?"

GYUTARO

Tries to play it cool and acts like it doesn't bother him whether you talk to him or not.

Pretends not to care.

“Tch…good, less naggin ig."

Internally panics.

Went to Daki for advices.

The silence really starts to get to him.

Will keep glancing your way then look away when your eyes lock.

When the silence gets too long, he starts to take it out on him, muttering to himself :

"Tch..well ofc they hate me now. They're all like that. Who wouldn't."

Hearing him say that, you came BOLTING, giving him the tightest hug EVERR.

Reassured him that none of it were true, but stayed firm on your point and talked abt what really upset you.

You both apologized for each other's behavior.

HANTENGU'S CLONES (minus zohakuten)

AIZETSU :

THE.END.OF.THE.WORLD

His s/o not talking to him = what is the meaning of life if my s/o is not in it ?

INSTANT CRAZY PANIC.

SO PANICKED HE EXPLODED, JUMPED OUT THE WINDOW, DID A BACKFLIP AND-

Okay more seriously now, he's super super extra scared.

So scared, you can't even stay mad at him seeing him eyeing you in a corner.

You're obviously the first one to crack and come to comfort him.

He did understand where he went wrong and apologized.

Pinky promise and everything's sorted out !

UROGI :

Instantly panics. He’s the most emotionally reactive of the clones and can't handle silence well. The moment you stop speaking to him, he paces around like a restless bird.

Tries to make you laugh by doing silly things.

Nudges you with his wing to make you react even a little.

Once you respond, even a little, he instantly lights up like he just won lottery.

He's CLINGY for hours afterward, afraid of making you upset again.

SEKIDO :

It started as a little argument yet things escalated pretty quickly and well he's not "Anger" for nothing..

He believes you overreacted and certainly will not apologize first

He mumbles in his corner angrily

Many hours after there he is STILL grumbling abt it again , (yk like moms when they keep talking when the argument is literaly supposed to be over 😭)

Gives you the silent treatment and thinks your reaction is childish

You had to come apologize first.

KARAKU :

Thought of it as a game at first.

Teased you and kept getting in your face.

Then started to catch on that you're really upset and will not talk to him until he apologizes.

Tries to make you laugh and succeed.

You did express what bothered you and he promised to do better in the future.

Here you are back on his lap, cuddling.

⋆˚✿˖° Heyy there I apologize for the delay but there it is !! I also apologize for the Hantengu's clones part I didn't have much imagination for that one lol Hope you guys liked it tho !! There might be grammar mistakes apologies once again... xoxo ⋆˚✿˖°

[kiwriteswords]

You Belong Among the Wildflowers [Aaron Hotchner x Florist!Reader]

Masterlist [I need to update this, sorry!]|| Ao3||Word Count: >2k|| AN: I worked as a florist for five years and it was some of the most fun and some of the most beautiful moments I got to witness. I thought this would be a fun meet!cute! I will be making its a series, so please send your requests in for Florist!Reader persona! Tags/Warnings: Female!Reader, Florist!Reader, Non-BAU!Reader, meet cute, mentions of Haley Hotchner, flirtation, first encounter, Reader is JJ's college friend, mentions of Hotch's upbringing. Summary: When Hotch is in need of a good florist, he meets you, JJ's old college friend, who leads him to believe that maybe flowers couldn't fix everything, but they sure as hell didn't hurt.

Aaron Hotchner didn’t believe flowers could fix everything.

But they sure as hell didn’t hurt.

It was something he picked up early—

Something he never really learned so much as absorbed. 

His mother, a quiet woman with tired hands and soft smiles, used to say she wished someone would bring her flowers just once. Her voice never wavered when she said it, never sharp or demanding—

Just wistful. 

A woman too often let down by a man who never came home with more than excuses and stale breath.

Aaron made a promise then, maybe only to himself, that if he ever loved someone, really loved someone, he’d bring them flowers just because.

He kept that promise with Haley.

He would come home from Quantico, exhausted and wired from the field, and there she'd be, soft and sleepy with her hair up and an old sweatshirt on. 

He always brought her something: white tulips in spring, sunflowers in summer, dahlias in the fall. 

When cases kept him too long, he'd send them instead. Sometimes with a note, sometimes without. It became tradition—

A silent ritual that kept their connection grounded no matter where he was or what horror he’d seen.

There was never not a vase filled with some sort of colorful bouquet displayed in their home together. 

And even with work. Flowers were a lovely…band-aid to place on he larger bureaucratic problems. 

When Gideon poked Garcia’s buttons the wrong way--

A bouquet and an apology, courtesy of Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner wanting a smooth sailing ship. 

When JJ had Henry--

He remembered her saying she liked lilies, so he sent her lilies from the team. 

There wasn’t a birthday or special occasion he didn’t have marked on his planner that didn’t have a corresponding floral delivery from his usual place sent out. 

And when Haley died, there wasn’t much he could do but exist. 

The BAU gave him time, but even time felt like a betrayal. The world kept spinning while his had stopped. 

But there was one thing he could do: plan her funeral.

And pick the flowers himself.

White roses.

Classic. Clean. Grieving.

He stood in the flower shop for over an hour, staring at arrangements, feeling too much and too little at once. The florist—an older woman with a warm smile and no questions—had guided him gently, like she knew when to step forward and when to give him room to breathe. 

He came back to her year after year after that, always requesting simple, elegant designs. She never asked why. He always appreciated that.

But now, standing outside the darkened storefront on a crisp weekday afternoon, Aaron realized she was gone. 

The sign had been flipped to Closed for weeks. 

A paper notice taped crookedly to the door read: Thank you for over 30 wonderful years. 

Just like that.

It shouldn’t have caught him off guard. 

People retired. 

Shops closed. 

But somehow, he felt... untethered. 

Like this small corner of familiarity in his life had vanished, and with it, another thread connecting him to Haley.

He had been trying to order something for Jessica—

Haley’s sister. 

It was her birthday. And while their relationship had always been complicated, especially with Jack involved, he didn’t want the day to go by without a gesture. Flowers had always been the language he was fluent in.

He mentioned it offhandedly in the bullpen the next morning—something low-key, muttered as he sifted through files.

JJ perked up immediately. “Wait—are you serious? You’re trying to find a florist?”

He gave a short nod, not looking up.

“You’re in luck,” she said, tapping her pen against her notepad. “One of my best friends from college owns a flower shop not far from here. You’d love her designs—they’re beautiful.” 

She smiled, a little too brightly, eyes dancing in a way that made him suspicious.

He arched an eyebrow. “Am I missing something?”

JJ laughed. “Okay, fine. She’s gorgeous. Like—flirtatiously elegant, painfully feminine, one of those women who makes it look effortless. But she’s smart, and she runs a really impressive business. And she's good, Hotch. Seriously. Her arrangements have personality. You’d appreciate the detail.”

“I’m only looking for—” he began, but JJ held up a hand.

“I know. But just give her a call. Or better yet, stop by. Tell her I sent you. She’ll take care of you.”

He sighed, already knowing JJ wasn’t going to drop it. And truthfully? He missed the ritual. 

The weight of a vase in his hand. 

The soft brush of petals when he leaned in to read a card. 

He missed the peace of it—

The stillness it gave him.

Maybe flowers couldn’t fix everything.

But maybe, just maybe, they could start something new.

The bell above the door jingled softly, delicate and old-fashioned—

Charming in a way that made Hotch instinctively lower his voice and straighten his posture, like the shop itself demanded a kind of reverence.

It smelled like summer mornings and memory. 

Sweet, green, earthy. 

The air was cooler inside, heavy with moisture and the subtle perfume of fresh-cut stems. 

Every surface had something blooming or trailing: lush peonies and garden roses in glass vases, eucalyptus spilling from galvanized buckets, tiny pots of violets arranged like a tea party on a shelf by the window.

And then there was you.

You were at the counter, bent slightly over a worktable, hands delicately threading wire through a bouquet of ranunculus and sweet pea. 

Your fingers moved with practiced elegance—

Intentional but light, as though the flowers were something sacred. 

You wore a linen apron over a dress, a pair of delicate gold hoops catching the light when you turned to see who had come in.

JJ hadn't exaggerated.

You were beautiful in that way that didn’t feel real at first. 

Soft around the edges, like you'd stepped out of a memory or an old film. But the mischief in your eyes was immediate, sparking to life the moment you took him in.

“Let me guess,” you said, lips curving into a smile as you stepped out from behind the counter. “JJ sent you?”

Hotch blinked. He hadn’t even said a word yet.

“I can always tell,” you added, folding your hands in front of you with a playful tilt of your head. “It’s the suit. Very FBI but emotionally repressed gentleman in need of a good centerpiece.”

That got the corner of his mouth to twitch. Barely. But it was there.

“Guilty,” he admitted, taking a step closer. “I’m Aaron Hotchner.”

“JJ’s boss,” you echoed like it meant something—

Like she'd mentioned him before. Then you extended your hand, which he took with a polite firmness that faltered slightly the moment your fingers brushed.

Your touch was cool, confident. 

A stark contrast to the warm tilt of your grin.

You introduced yourself with your first name, gesturing loosely to the shop. “Welcome to my little kingdom.”

He looked around again, letting himself take it in now—not just the flowers, but the way they were arranged. Every display felt curated but not staged. Wild, almost, but intentional. Like you trusted the flowers to speak for themselves and only nudged them into poetry.

“It’s impressive,” he said, his voice softer than usual. “Peaceful.”

Your expression shifted for just a moment, something fond and knowing crossing your face. “That’s what I aim for. Flowers should feel like exhaling.”

There was a pause, comfortable and quiet, before you asked, “So, what are we celebrating, Agent Hotchner?”

“It’s Jessica’s birthday. My son’s aunt. She’s done a lot for our family, especially after… a loss.” His tone remained even, but the weight in his words lingered.

You didn’t press. Your smile softened with understanding.

“Got it,” you said gently. “So something warm. Grateful. Nothing too romantic, but still thoughtful.”

He nodded, a little surprised at how quickly you’d read the situation.

“I can do that,” you assured him, already moving to gather a few stems in your hands. “Now, do you trust me, or do you want to pick the flowers yourself?”

Hotch hesitated.

“I used to,” he said. “Pick them, I mean. For my wife. It became a tradition. I knew what she liked. But it’s been a while.”

You stopped what you were doing, the bouquet held loosely in your hands.

“I’m sorry,” you said. Not with pity—

Just sincerity.

He inclined his head. “Thank you.”

“Well,” you said after a beat, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “if it helps, I think people always know more about flowers than they realize. It’s just about memory and emotion. Pick one thing you remember her liking, and we’ll start there.”

Hotch thought for a moment. Then: “She liked lilies. The white ones. But they were always too delicate.”

“Casa Blanca lilies,” you murmured, nodding. “Gorgeous, but yes—temperamental. They bruise just from being looked at wrong.”

He huffed out something close to a laugh, and you caught it—

Your eyes flicking to his in quiet delight.

You held up a peachy, cream-tipped rose. “This might be a better choice for today. It says thank you, without screaming ‘I love you.’”

He studied it for a moment, then nodded. “Perfect.”

And as you moved behind the counter to wrap the arrangement, Hotch let himself breathe in again. 

The scent of flowers. 

The sound of soft music playing from somewhere in the back. 

It was easy-listening classic rock. Something he would listen to in the car. It was…comforting.

The easy rhythm of your presence.

You worked quickly, but never rushed.

Hotch watched from his spot at the counter as you wrapped the bouquet in delicate cream paper, folding it just so before tying it with a deep green ribbon that matched the stems. 

Every movement was graceful, intentional.

It reminded him of the way people worked when they loved what theydid—

Not for performance, but for the sake of making something beautiful.

You slid the arrangement across the counter and offered a soft, plesed smile.

“There,” you said, “peach roses, cream spray roses, stock flower for fullness, a little waxflower for texture, and just a touch of eucalyptus—because I have to sneak it in somewhere. It smells clean. Calm. And it says I see you. Thank you.” You tapped the corner of the paper gently. “In flower language, anyway.”

Hotch studied the bouquet, nodding with quiet approval.

“It’s perfect.”

You tilted your head at him, brows raised. “You sure? Not too showy? Not too much?”

He gave the smallest shake of his head. “No. It’s...thoughtful. She’ll like it.”

You smiled, but it softened when you noticed he lingered—

Not quite ready to leave.

So you said gently, “It’s nice, you know. That you still do this. For her.”

Hotch didn’t look away from the bouquet as he replied, “Sometimes I think gestures are all we have. Something tangible. When words aren’t enough.”

You leaned your forearms on the counter, chin tilted toward him. “That’s exactly what flowers are. Tangible emotion.”

There was a pause. 

Comfortable. 

Heavy, but not unpleasant.

He reached for his wallet, and you gently waved him off.

“I’ve got it.”

Hotch blinked. “You don’t have to—”

“I know I don’t have to,” you said with a teasing lilt. “But you’re JJ’s friend, and more importantly, I want you to come back.”

That pulled his eyes to yours again—

Steady, searching.

You held his gaze, playful but earnest. “What? Even emotionally repressed gentlemen need a flower source. Besides, you’ve got good taste. I can always use a muse.”

He hesitated, but nodded. “Alright. I’ll come back.”

Your grin widened. “Good. Maybe next time for yourself.”

Hotch raised an eyebrow, and you shrugged.

“Nothing wrong with buying yourself flowers. I do it all the time.”

His voice was low, faintly amused. “Somehow, I think it suits you better.

That earned a laugh from you—

Light. 

Genuine.

Ringing through the quiet shop.

And as Hotch turned to leave, bouquet in hand, you called after him: “Tell Jessica I said happy birthday. And that her brother-in-law has surprisingly excellent flower game.”

He paused in the doorway and glanced back at you. “I’ll be sure to pass that along.”

Then he was gone, the bell chiming softly above him as the door shut.

But something lingered. That scent, maybe. Or the quiet flirtation. Or the unspoken I hope you come back that lived between the petals.

And for the first time in a long time, Hotch found himself already thinking about what arrangement he’d need next.

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