#The practice I got a job offer at also has 9 hour shifts. But it’s 4 days a week without on call and early means leave early and late means

[aspiringhorrorauthor]

God I hate late shifts on rotation. Anywhere else, a late shift would mean a late start or maybe a little extra pay. Nope! *I pay* the exact same to be here, and I get 2-3 less hours to myself a day. It just means instead of a 9 hour shift I have an 11 to 12 hour shift (depending on work load) and then tomorrow I have a 9 hour shift. Yesterday was a ten hour shift because it was an early shift which meant getting in an hour early and leaving normal time. And I have a deadline at 9am tomorrow that I need to submit for tonight. In summary: I am not going to have any time to unwind tonight before I go to sleep to start tomorrow’s shift

[poptod]

Cyber Security (Elliot Alderson)

Description: An online ad leads him to you, though in reality he has little interest in your ad. What interests him is how you accidentally doxxed yourself and how oblivious you are to that fact.

Notes: idrk what to say about this one its one of those things that i wrote at midnight after almost falling asleep to a fantasy and then realizing it could work as a fic. like i did this same thing with ‘close your eyes’ that one was also a before-bed-to-get-to-sleep fantasy. this is also not a particularly romantic interaction, though it can be read as such WC: 2.2k

+

Sweat drenched his sheets, bathing him in the cold wind that breezed past his only air conditioner lodged in a nearby window. He stared blankly upwards, half shivering and half overheated, as he once again found himself in a familiar predicament—the practice of sleep.

It was no secret he had trouble calming himself down, and that aspect of himself reached into the evening, as well. He already downed three melatonin pills hours earlier, along with smoking a joint that should’ve put him to bed. Unsurprisingly, that did not work.

“Xanax,” he mumbled to himself, hearing it bounce back from empty walls. “Need to get xanax.”

In the meantime he raised himself to his feet, padding across freezing floors to his computer. With a click of a button the white screen buzzed to life, shining bright onto his sleep-heavy eyes, that did their best to acclimatize to the sudden change.

Hypnotization—strange as it might’ve been—had worked a couple times before. Not all the time, but decently enough to give it a try. He had work in the morning and he didn’t need to be more miserable than usual, especially since he hadn’t slept almost the entire weekend.

sleep hypnosis

The blinker flickered for a moment before his fourth finger slammed down on enter, the last step in calculated movements. What popped up first was a video titled [ SLEEP HYPNOSIS ] 8 Hour Loop with a screencap of a spinning black and white screen. Below that, however, was something he hadn’t seen before—a YouTube video titled exactly what he’d typed, lacking the caps just as he had. The title screen appeared to be some sort of poorly-drawn painting.

Curiosity overcame his hazy, aching head, and he clicked, finding a playlist of videos containing what could be the titles of songs, along with several different poorly-drawn title screens.

The first video began to play before he could realize it. What he first noticed was it was bereft of ads—that meant the publisher made no money off the album.

Sat in the presence of God

whose name means filthy old fraud

Captions had been manually added by, he assumed, you. The author. There were three views on the video, no comments, and no likes, leaving few other options.

Maybe it was the melody—maybe the lyrics, who talked of a world plagued by aristocrats. But he found his eyelids heavy, dropping dark eyelashes in his vision that blurred the screen. By the third song, reciting verses of an Islamic poem, he was slouched in his seat.

He slid down to the floor, crawling his way back to flop onto his bed. The music continued to play till the first ad popped up, at which time he opened his eyes, seeing a music video from Katy Perry, at which time he promptly reached over and unplugged his computer. He wasn’t sure which cord he pulled out, but the screen still went black. With that, he just barely sneaked into his covers, dozing until the morning.

It was far too easy to get information on you. Your full name was stated clearly in your youtube bio, alongside several different social media tags leading to instagram, tumblr, and facebook.

Facebook alone provided him the means to your address, and he didn’t even have to go looking for it. Your most recent post was an ad, searching for someone good with computers to aid you in your recording process, which you noted as ‘dismal’.

Are you fucking kidding me? He thought to himself, reading the ad once more.

Your address, your real, physical address was stated as the place you wanted to meet those interested in helping you. On the internet. You had doxxed yourself after less than a year of being online.

Okay, he thought, clicking on your listed email. Someone needs to be taught a lesson.

Three days later—after about two weeks of listening to your echoing voice every night—you replied, sending a cheerful email detailing when you would be available to meet him. After shooting a short message back, the date was organized.

Two more days and he was standing at your doorstep, his neck craned upwards as he scanned your tall, narrow home squished between two other apartments. He just barely knocked before the black door swung open, revealing a familiar face belonging to a stranger. Elliot was dressed in his black hoodie and jeans, a stark difference to your long, colorful robes, coming out of a sort of fantasy world.

“Hi,” he said, his voice grating with how low and quiet he kept it.

“Hello,” you said with a smile that did not match his hunched posture. “Are you Mr. Alderson?”

“Elliot,” he corrected, his chin just barely raising to meet you. “Elliot Alderson. Elliot works.”

“Alright,” you said, nodding. “Come inside? I was just making tea. Do you like tea? Or do you prefer coffee?”

“I... I’m fine, thanks,” he said softly, scooting past you when you opened the door wide enough for him to enter. He sucked in a breath as his chest brushed yours.

Your home was modern—far fancier than Elliot’s own apartment, with large windows flanked by soft grey curtains. A small, upright piano was in the corner of the living room, set upon a reed mat lined with Korean symbols. The couch was clinical, made of a sort of black plastic leather that matched the grey skies beyond the window panes.

He sat down, shifting his feet closer together as his fingers dug into his palms, continuing to scan the room in its’ entirety until you returned with your own tea.

“What kind of experience do you have? School counts,” you said, setting your cup down on a tiny plate whose decorations matched your teacup.

“I’ve been... experimenting, with computers, since I was around 9,” he said, mumbling the words out as his shoulders hunched awkwardly down. “Have a job at a cyber security firm. Started a while back.”

“You still have that job?”

“Yeah,” he said with a small nod. “Jus’ thought this would be... fun.”

The dead look on his face indicated no humor whatsoever, but you took his word as it was.

“How’d you find the ad I put out?”

“I... I listened to your music,” he answered honestly for once. “Helps me fall asleep.”

“Oh,” you said, clearly taken aback. Your face grew warm as you glanced away with wide eyes. “I’m glad I could help.”

“You’re not very good with technology, though,” he said in his usual low, grating voice.

“Not really,” you chuckled sheepishly. “That’s why I put out the ad -“

“No, not that,” he interrupted you. “You put your physical address on the internet. You doxxed yourself. Do you even know how dangerous that is?”

The lyrics of your songs pointed towards a kind of brilliance, balanced against emotions felt thoroughly on pages and screens. It didn’t match your actions at all.

“What’s doxxing?” You asked.

Elliot had to physically stop himself from sighing and leaving.

“You want everyone to know where you, a minor celebrity, live?”

“I’d hardly call myself a -“

“I could’ve been a murderer,” he said, reaching into his bag.

He looked you in the eye as he pulled out a gun, clicking on the safety before he pointed it at you.

“This is how easy it would be to kill you.”

As expected, you stiffened at the sight of the iron barrel, your fingers withdrawing to your chest. Your lips pursed as you met his gaze once more.

“Please put the gun down,” you whispered, your voice cracking.

He did as you said, resting the gun on the table.

“That’s a hell of a way to start an interview, Mr. Alderson,” you said quietly. “Please get out of my house.”

His heart sank. What had he expected? For you to fall to your knees and sing to him as he desired you to do? He threatened you with a gun to teach you a lesson, and you reacted accordingly. Calmer than others would.

Elliot stood on shaky legs, sliding the pistol into his backpack before he zipped it up. Throwing the pack over his shoulder, he swallowed through a tight throat, shuffling as he delayed his departure.

“Keep safe from people like me,” he said in a strained mumble. “Take that ad down. Meet people from the internet only in inhabited, public areas.”

You tapped your fingernails on the table for a moment, chewing on your bottom lip. Suddenly you stood, tugging on his sweatshirt sleeve to get him to face you, instead of staring at his feet.

“Alright. If you’re really so good at the internet -“

He ignored your incorrect grammar.

“- and... if you actually do want to help me with my songs,” your tone softened, “then you’ll be able to find my real name, not my stage name. If you do.. I’ll hire you.”

“Alright,” he said monotone, knowing the battle was already won.

Even though he knew your name already, he turned away and left to his apartment, immediately going to work on figuring out everything he could about you. If you willingly still offered him the job after that, he knew it would take a lot to scare you off. He could impress you.

It was, after all, the only thing he was good at.

Two days later he showed up at your apartment again, quietly thanking you when you let him in. The clean floors and walls remained unchanged since his last visit, and you led him to the same table, sitting him down on the same seat.

“Your name is (Y/N) (L/N),” he started with. You already appeared to be surprise. “You grew up near LA and you’ve had a chronic illness all your life. At eleven you saw your first therapist.. that must’ve been when you first got diagnosed with depression... and anxiety.”

“Killer duo,” you muttered.

“Your parents split when you were thirteen, which came at the same time as your dog, Penelope, died. Or... sometime that year. When was that... 1997?”

“1999,” you said quietly.

“Your mom homeschooled you,” he continued. “That’s probably why you don’t know how computers work. Rather eclectic, in a.. boring way... an ex-Amish, right?”

You nodded and his heartbeat tripled. Everything was right thus far despite a two year difference in his guesstimate of your life’s timeline.

“Then there was your dad... logger in the Redwood forests. Burly guy. Not a great man, from what I saw,” he said.

“He was fine,” you said with a small shrug as you looked away. “Didn’t ever hurt me, or anything.”

“Abuse isn’t always physical,” he said faster than he could think, dizzied by his own memories playing behind his eyes.

“I know,” you murmured.

You went silent, so he continued, hoping to pry more precious words from you.

“Your favorite color is yellow,” he said, leaning closer to you. “On Valentine’s you get chocolate strawberries, and on easter you get kinder eggs.”

Nothing.

“You studied mythology as a kid, and you made paintings of the forest you lived in with your mom. Santa Cruz mountains, I think.”

“Yeah,” you said. “I miss the forests.”

“I know. You want to visit Ireland again because it’s a land of faeries and moss, it’s a breeding ground for your song lyrics.”

“How did you find all this out?” You finally asked.

“You use the same password on everything,” he said, though that was far from the actual answer. “Your web browser tracks all your movements and you don’t try to stop it, or hide ads, or stay away from sketchy websites. Your parents aren’t much better, either.”

You chuckled, shaking your head as you brought your hand to massage your brow.

“You’re way too smart to be helping me,” you said with soft laughter, blushing with your smile.

“It’s better than working for E Corp,” he said, huffing out a laugh that was hardly humored.

“E corp?”

“My.. uh, place of work,” he brushed off his slip. “My point is... I’d rather work with you and do easy work than work with my current fucking coworkers.”

You laughed, truly and fully this time, curling into a little ball that shook with the force of it. Your feet tucked into your tiny chair, making you even smaller.

“Bad people or just annoying?”

“Stupid,” he chuckled. “Don’t let me wear my sweatshirt.”

“Ooh, now it’s my turn,” you suddenly interrupted him, earning a strange look. “I’ve noticed things about you, too. I couldn’t learn anything off the computer, but you, you have anxiety too. Probably some childhood trauma.. maybe a dissociative disorder of sorts or a form of PTSD. Your jacket is like your home, and... you have sensory issues. Few types of fabric, don’t like to be touched, if I had to guess I’d say you might be autistic.”

“Blunt,” he said after a full minute’s silence.

“Do you mind?” You asked.

“No, not really.”

“Good. Then you’re hired,” you said with a smile, extending your hand for him to shake. “If you still want the job, of course.”

He watched you with evident apprehension, but took your hand after much thought, shaking with a firm grip.

“When do I start?”

[justoneday-namjoonii]

Quarters. | 9

☼1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • 7 • 8 • 9 

prompt: “I don’t know why I’m crying, I just-...I really love you, like, just staring at you really fucks me up.” — soul-gazing

pairing: Jungkook x reader

warnings/au: please keep warnings in mind—dysfunctional relationship with a capital D, toxic relationship themes, but they’re attempting to get better, probably inaccurate therapy but i tried, m-ish, humor(i try), mentions of drug usage, cheater cheater pumpkin eater?, fluff, angst, boxer!au, iceskater!au. 

authors note: Hello!!💖it’s been a while since the last update but here we are. ✨This chapter is pretty long✨. Unlike some of the other parts, it is following the timeline of the previous part(pt. 8) so just keep that in mind. See m.list for other parts. Enjoy!🥰

“Do it again, you need to stop relying on your right leg so much!”

Your coach yells for the third time in the last hour, she’s being a tyrant today. Your poor ankles are about to break off, your legs are straining and the cold air is starting to feel like vengeful needles. It’s been about two months since the incident with your leg and the doctor at your last check up granted you freedom to skate again. You’re glad it did to because you were about to go crazy. After the scandal came out about you and your ex-coach judge, she asked you if you wanted to get back into pairs. She went on about how Lucas was open to joining pairs again and that maybe you could get back with him—tempting offer. You’ve thought about it, though you still haven’t made a decision. It has been months since your injury, you can no longer use it as an excuse to take things easy. 

Determined to get it right, you skate back to your starting point and try it again. You skate forward, bending your knees just slightly to gain more momentum and once you turn, you take off into a triple salchow. Perfect.

”Finally,” You mutter, skating over to the edge of the rink where your coach is just getting off a phone call.

“Okay, Lucas will be here on Thursday to practice with you,” She smiles, tucking her phone in her pocket, “there’s a competition in two months and I think you two should sign up for it.”

“Coach, I haven’t decided if I want to get back into that,” You put on your blade guards and walk over to the lockers, “I just don’t know yet.”

“Think about it,” She leans against the lockers as you untie your skates and put them in your bag, “if you’re seriously pursuing this career, you have to be flexible. You’re not getting any younger. I hate it just as much as you do but you’ll get positive exposure with him and maybe even pick up a sponsor for the season.”

“Fine,” You zip up your duffel bag and slip your hoodie on, deciding to leave the yoga pants on, “but I need a break. I worked a night shift last night so I’m only standing because I took three espresso shots and I’m about to take another one, I’m exhausted.”

“I know you are, try to get some rest this weekend. You’ll be at the ballet studio for half of next week so you won’t be on the ice,” She says that, hoping it’ll give you some relief, “just don’t forget to soak your feet tonight.”

You gather your stuff and walk out of the center, waving at Carrie the desk clerk like a zombie. It’s only 8 o’clock but you’ve been here for two hours, you feel like you’re in a time loop. An eternal warp created to keep you totally spent. When you hop in your car, you crank it up and turn the heat on. Not long after, your eyelids begin to feel heavy so you drive over to the closest coffee shop. When you look down at your phone, you see a missed call from Jeon Jungkook. All prior emojis have been removed from his contact.

His call will stay missed, just like the other five. You’re not in the mood for his sob story. About two weeks ago, you decided that you two needed to take a break but he took it hard. You remember sitting on your couch with crossed arms and staring at him as he twisted and squirmed uncomfortably.

“What kind of break?”

Are there different kinds?

“The kind where we stop seeing each other all the time, I don’t know what kind that is, Jungkook. But I can’t deal with this right now, it’s causing me major stress and anxiety...”

“You can’t deal with me?” He sounds hurt.

“Not with you Jungkook, with your crap. I have a ice skating career to try to work out, a job, school, the last thing I need to worry about is whether you can control yourself,” You frown, “you were just at my house with my niece and next thing I know you’re out getting high and fooling around with other girls.”

“You’re still upset about the photo,” He concludes, “baby, I told you, it didn’t go anywhere with that girl, I pushed her off. I wasn’t completely sober but I know I didn’t let her-”

“That’s exactly my point, you were doing drugs. And for what? You don’t need it. I understand a little bit of smoking every now and then but I can’t handle when you do that other stuff. That night was a disaster. I got stabbed, how does that even happen? But of course, it would happen to me,” You massage the sides of your temples. “I’m just over it, I’m tired.”

“You want to give up on us? Just like that? I’ve apologized a thousand times, I don’t know how to prove to you that I’m sorry,” He twiddles his fingers and bites at his bottom lip, “I don’t know what else to do.”

“I’m not giving up,” You defend, “we need some space to work on our selves.”

“Why can’t we work on ourselves together?”

“We’ve been doing that and it doesn’t work.”

The conversation continued on until you two ended up arguing for a good hour before you lied, saying you had to go to class. He left and you haven’t heard from him since, not a a call, a text, a call, not even a like on any of your recent posts. He’s taking this well.

*

“Why did you do that!? She’s gonna think I called her,” Jungkook snatches the phone from Jimin, “fuck, are you trying to get me killed?”

“Come on,” Jimin roles his eyes with a grin, putting his boxing gloves back on, “you guys can’t stay away from each other, you expect me to believe you two aren’t talking-”

“I’m serious, we haven’t talked for weeks,” Jungkook locks his phone with a frown, tucking it in his gym bag, “she’s done with me.”

“Oh, aw man,” He is serious, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you guys broke up.” 

He had been by you and Jungkook for the entirety of the relationship, it always seemed like you preferred things to be spontaneous. Admittedly, he knew Jungkook would do something that pushed you over the edge one day but he didn’t think it would be so soon. 

“We didn’t break up,” Jungkook mumbles, tying his hair back with a head band, “we’re just taking a break, that’s what she told me at least.”

“Aw, that sucks,” Jimin has to contain his amusement, it’s not funny but the fact that Jungkook is giving you full control over the relationship is unusual to him.

“Every time I think about trying to talk to her, I just remember that face she makes and that tone she uses. That’s when I know she does not give a single fuck, it’s scary.” 

“Is there a reason she’s being so hard on you? Don’t get me wrong, you were in the wrong. You shouldn’t have been there but it’s been weeks.”

“Her past relationship was rough on her mentally and emotionally. When she was young she had some things happen to her that causes her to have a hard time trusting others.”

“If you knew that then why did you do what you did?”

“I don’t know, okay? Everyone's been beating me up about it but I just don’t have an answer for you. I said I was sorry,” Jungkook shakes his head, fists making brunt contact with the punching bag, “I just I miss her,”

“It’ll be alright, she’ll come around,” Jimin holds the bag, keeping it still for the lovesick boy, “just give it some time. Hey, I’m taking my niece to the ice-skating rink in town, you should come!”

Jungkook, dramatically collapses to the ground, laying back on the ground with his boxing gloves on his face. “Ice-skating, why would you suggest ice-skating!?” He whines. “That’s literally what she does, it’s just going to remind me of her...”

“Aw Kook, I know,” Jimin can’t help but giggle at Jungkook’s overreaction, “that’s okay, you’ll be fine, and besides,” He pulls him up from the ground and pushes his shaggy hair back, “you can’t stay away from each other forever..”

“What about this one?” You step out of the dressing room, turning from side-to-side to let her see, “I like the color.”

“That’s the one,” Harmony scrolls through her phone, eyes going between you and the screen, “perfect.”

“Harmony, you’re just saying that!” You whine, turning to look into the mirror again with a frown.

“Y/n, this is the 11th dress you’ve tried on, it looks great. I’m serious.”

“Okay, I’ll go with this one then,” You smile, going back in the dressing room to change back into your clothes. Yuna’s having a party for the charity she works with. All of the money donated goes to buying toys and clothes for kids in foster care and orphanages, you attend every year. 

“You know, I heard Jungkook might come with Taehyung,”

Ugh, you forgot that your groups of friends are also friends. Jeon Jungkook, you still consider him your boyfriend in some aspects, but you don’t want to face him right now. Maybe you’re dragging this out too far but honestly, you don’t care. You love him but right now, you’re doing too well to let him crawl himself back into your life. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t creeping on his social media every now and then, you do care enough to see how he’s doing on there. 

“Hm,” 

“That’s all you have to say?” She giggles.

“Yup.”

“Did you officially dump his ass yet?”

You step out of the dressing room, rolling your eyes harder than necessary.

“Look, what happened to you was terrible. You couldn’t skate because of him. You caught him with another girl and you still let him take you home,” She was still bitter about Jungkook taking you away the way he did, she still thinks she should have insisted more.

You clear your throat, “I rather not talk about it.” 

It’s been admittedly awkward every time one of your friends bring that night up. On one hand, you understand why they bash him so hard but on the other hand, it’s hard to hear. You two leave the mall and grab lunch to eat in the comfort of your car..

During this break, you’ve decided to try and take things slow, relax. Admittedly, it would be nice to have Jungkook around again, to run errands with, to cuddle with. It’s hard not to miss him, you knew it would be. 

“We should go to the pop-up ice-skating rink on campus today, it’s a family thing I think,” Harmony squeezes ketchup onto her fries with a thoughtful him, “it sounds fun.”

“It’s funny you say that, Lucas invited me to go ther. He was going to go with his family, I told him I probably wouldn’t be able to.” You sigh.

“Oh, that’s right! The prince is back in town,” Harmony always had a thing for Lucas, even in high school. When you two were partners years ago, she still had a crush on him, “then we definitely should go. Are you getting back into pairs with him?

“Yeah, we’ll do one season together next year.” You have to admit, you are excited to get back into the practice with one of your best friends. 

“I’ll definitely have to brush up on my ballet lessons and I was always a bit too shaky during lifts. Our instructions used to say if I don’t look comfortable during lifts on the stable ground, I can’t expect to look good while I’m being lifted and Lucas is still skating. I trust Lucas a lot more now so I think it’ll go well,”

“Jungkook will love that.”

You take a bite of your chicken sandwich with a heavy sigh, “He’ll live...”

“Uncle,” Yona sits with her little brother in the back seat while they wait for Jungkook to finish pumping the gas, “why does your friend look so grumpy? Doesn’t he want to go skating with us?”

Jimin glances back at Yona and smiles, thinking of how he should explain Jungkook’s situation. “He’s just upset, he’s fine.”

“What is he upset about?” Jimin hesitates for a moment but Jungkook signals that he’s running inside for something.

“Well,” He turns to face her, “can you keep a secret?” She eagerly nods. “Kookie is a little sad because he misses his girlfriend.”

“Oh, what happened to her?” Yona frowns, fearing what Jimin might say.

“Nothing happened to her, he’s okay, they just haven’t seen each other in a long time,” He rakes his brain, trying not to say too much about Jungkook’s love life, “but it’s okay, he’s alright. Just try to understand, he’s not trying to be a grump, he’s just a big teddy bear who pretends to be tough when he’s sad,” He grins, “but don’t tell him I said that.”

“Oh,” She nods adorably, pitying Jungkook, “I won’t,”

in the nick of time, Jungkook comes back with a receipt and mumbles something about the poor management in the convenience store. Jimin notices how Yona looks at him with sympathetic eyes but Jungkook doesn’t seem to notice. He’s too wrapped up in his phone to see that a 9-year-old is pitying his dysfunctional love-life.

It doesn’t take long before the four of them arrive at the skating rink and Jimin is helping, Juda, Yona’s sleepy 5-year-old brother out of the car. Yona takes the liberty of escorting her self out and walking over to Jungkook.

“Hi,” She looks up at him, not even a little intimidated by his towering stature over herself.

Jungkook looks around, as if she’s talking to someone else. “Hi,” He gives her a small wave, “it’s Yona, right?”

“Yes,” She nods, walking by his side, “uncle said your girlfriend skates, do you skate too?” 

Jungkook mentally cringes, bracing himself for whatever Jimin told this little girl about his personal life. “No, I’m a boxer, she’s the skater.”

“Ahh, ice skating is prettier than boxing, you should ice skate too,” She looks back at Jimin and Juda walking side by side, wondering if she should walk with them or stay with Jungkook. Just when she was about to further judge Jungkook’s life choices, Jimin and Juda catch up. Jimin leads the four of them to the skate rental booth where Jungkook avoids eye contact with the girls behind the counter. It’s hard enough to be in your environment, let alone be surrounded by couples and families skating to their hearts content. It’s not the same without you, it doesn’t feel like he should even be trying to enjoy himself after what he did to you.

Jimin and the kids get their skates on, but Jungkook tells them to go ahead without him. The more he sits here, the less he wants to be here.

*

“We decided to come and skate for a little bit, I’m sorry I wasn’t able to take your invitation, I didn’t think I’d be able to come.” You and Harmony skate out onto the ice.

Lucas stands at the edge of the rink, smiling. “It’s okay, I’m here with my family so don’t sweat it, hey! You wanna practice a routine, for old time sake?”

“There are way too many people to be practicing a routine. Besides, I’m already sore from practice yesterday.”

“Where’s your boyfriend? I thought you told me he skates with you sometimes,” He skates a circle around you, a toothy grin on his face, “I want to meet him.”

“He was busy,” You lie. You don’t know where Jungkook is or what he’s doing, “It’s just us.″

Somehow, he believes you and skates off with his family while you breathe.

“You lie,” Harmony shakes her head as if to say shame on you.

“What was I supposed to say? I’m not gonna burden him with my personal problems.”

You two go back and forth until she surrenders, claiming she’ll leave you a Jungkook’s relationship out of her mouth for the rest of the day. You highly doubt she can but you appreciate the effort. 

Nononononono—why is he here? And blonde. Your eyes widen, your palms get sweaty, just seeing him affects you. You’ve missed him. Judging by the way he’s sitting on the bench with his skates beside him, he looks sad. Who is he here with? 

”Y/n, Harmony, hey!” Jimin skates over to you with two little kids by his side, they’re so cute. “What’re you two doing here?”

”Jimin? Hi,��fancy meeting you here, we decided to come last minute,” You’ve connect the dots now, “who are these two cuties?”

“I’m babysitting my niece and nephew,” He holds both of your hands and the both of them say a shy little greeting, “say hello guys,”

“Hi,” Yona waves at you two and you greet her with a bright smile.

Jimin glances back at Jungkook who has yet to notice you. “Y/n, can I talk to you for a minute?” You nod.

“Harmony can you please watch them for a second?”  “Me? Um, I guess but-”

You skate to the edge of the rink and Jimin follows, you already anticipating what this conversation is about.

“Jungkook is here.”

“I know, I saw him,” You deadpan.

“Look, I know what happened between you guys and he probably doesn’t want me to say this, but he’s been the biggest bitch since you two split, I’ve never seen him so at odds with himself.”

“What am I supposed to do about that? That’s not my fault.” You frown.

“I’m not saying that you need to do anything,” Now he understands what Jungkook meant about your infamous tone. “I just wanted to let you know, I figured you haven’t talked.”

“I’m sorry,” You hold your face in your hands, “I’m not trying to be mean, I just have a lot on my mind and I wasn’t expecting to have to deal with him today.”

“Maybe you two can talk, I’m not saying you should get back together but maybe talking face to face will help you find common ground?”

That’s advice that you know you should take but the thought of talking to him makes your stomach uneasy. It’s easier to ignore him, erase him from your life while you figure out what you want. You’re very childish in the aspect of talking things out, he is too.

“Here he comes,” Jimin looks over at Jungkook who is slowly approaching you two, “I’ll give you two some space-”

“Jimin, I swear, if you did this on purpose!-” Your threat is cut short when he skates away and Jungkook skates up to you. As if you don’t even see him, you quickly skate away, uninterested in anything he might have to say.

Jungkook knows he can’t possibly out-skate you. He mumbles a few curses before skating over to Jimin and the kids as frustrated as ever. For a moment, he almost changed course because Harmony, his biggest hater, is with them and she is one of the last people he wants to see.

“Jungkook, hey,” Jimin sighs, dreading the angry frown in Jungkook’s brows, “I’m glad you decided to-”

“Did you know she was here?” Jungkook cuts straight to the punch, not paying any mind to Harmony whose staring at him as if he’s a mass murderer.

“No,” Jimin shrugs, voice low in order not to alarm the kids who are skating near by, “you know I would have told you.”

“I’ll be in the car.” He skates off, anxious to get off the ice but he’s stopped when another skater bumps into his shoulder.

“Sorry!-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jungkook shrugs, but just when Jungkook was about to leave the guy gives him a weird look. 

“Wait, what’s your name? You look so familiar,”

“Jungkook,” He responds with a bit of impatience, “I don’t think I know you from anywhere, sorry-”

“You’re Y/n’s boyfriend! She showed me some of her pictures pictures,” Lucas smiles but Jungkook’s eyes darken, “I’m Lucas, we’re competing in pairs again next season, I’m sure she’s told you.”

“Oh, I didn’t know, probably slipped her mind,” You haven’t mentioned it on purpose. Then again, how could you? You haven’t talked in weeks.

Just when he thought this day couldn’t get any worse, he meets your partner, and he’s not ugly,

“She said you couldn’t come because you were busy, did you come to surprise her?”

“Something like that- I’m sorry, I gotta go.”

“Okay, well...nice to meet you,” Lucas waves him off but Jungkook doesn’t pay him any mind. 

He thought this might go differently, why did he think that? As soon as he saw you, that tug in his heart came back, that desire to be around you came back. When you walked away, it made him feel like crap, you didn’t even want to look at him.

While he’s skating off to the side to leave the rink, he sees you taking off your personal skates and putting them in their bag. Of course, your caddie is right next to where his heavy black boots are. He enters the room opens the caddie with the little pass-code they gave him when he rented the skates. You spare him a glance as you tie your sneakers and he sits to get his shoes on.

“Did you have to ignore me like that?” He decides to speak up.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You frown, “I don’t even know why you’re here.”

“Since when did you start caring where I go?” He bites back. “You’ve been ghosting me for fucking weeks and suddenly I’m not allowed to go out?”

“I didn’t want to see you...I was doing so good, I was forgetting about you.” You lean back, not giving him eye contact.

”Wow, just what I wanted to hear,” He thought you would say something like that but he didn’t expect you to be so blunt. 

“You can’t say you’re surprised, can you?”

“No, but the least you can do is talk to me.”

”Fine, that’s fair. What do you have to say?” You stand to your feet, your bag tight in your hand/

”Believe it or not,” He gets up to lean on the wall behind him, “I love you, so I'm letting you drag me along and make all of the rules but I’m just asking that you communicate with me, I need to know what you want,” He tends to ask this question when he’s most desperate for your good side to emerge.

“Why don’t you tell me what you want? I’m not the one going around making decisions that hurt our relationship, not recently anyway.” You throw a jab at him, you couldn’t contain it anymore.

“If you’re trying to make me feel like shit, you’ve succeeded. You’ve been succeeding for weeks now, it’s actually starting to get to me, mentally.” As he says that, an unsuspecting few individuals come in to get there things.

“Can-” You pause and walk over to him to eliminate the awkward distance, “Can we talk about this somewhere else?”

His spirits brighten a little because at least you’re interested in continuing the conversation, you haven’t even attempted to do that until now. So when he stutters out an “okay”, his feet move as soon as yours do. He’s walking right next to you and you find yourself keeping your arms crossed, away from his hands that you would normally be holding. By the time you walk out to the rink, Jimin is still with the kids and Harmony is gone, probably in the restroom. You find a secluded area near the concession area and take a seat, he does the same right across from you. 

“Do you want to break up?” 

He puts it out there. He’s never been the one to hesitate, especially when his heart is on the line.

“What do you mean?” You swallow, not expecting to be confronted with that question.

He almost scoffs because you’re having a similar reaction to his reaction to you telling him you wanted to take a break.

“Do you not want to be in a relationship anymore? If this isn’t something you’re willing to do anymore, I need you to tell me so I can grieve in peace...I feel really lost right now.”

“Grieve? I’m not going to die if we break up, Jungkook, and I never said I wanted to break up—I never said I didn’t love you either. That’s not what this is about, it’s not about whether we love each anymore, it’s about trust.” 

“How can I gain your trust?”

You look around, making sure no one is listening in on you two before mumbling out your answer. “I don’t know...I just don’t trust you, I can’t tell you how to make it up to me because people who screw me over, I normally stay as far away from them as I can.”

All you can think about is the lies from your birth-mother, the betrayal and humiliation that came over you when you found out about your ex. Situations like that always come to mind when the subject of trust is mentioned. You’ve been hurt and Jungkook knows that, he knows when you feel like you can’t trust someone, you shut down. You want nothing to do with that person, your pain blinds you—its your character flaw.

“You’re lucky I’m even talking to you right now,” You mumble, nibbling at your bottom lip.

“Yeah, I know.” He scoffs, a look of disbelief that turns into an understandable shrug of his shoulders. 

“I’ve always thought of you as someone I didn’t deserve, you know that,” He glances down at his twiddling fingers, “when we got together, you changed me and I’m so grateful for that...I was such a shitty person before I met you- I mean, I’m sure you think I’m shitty now but I was way worse.” It surprises you when you see tears welling at his eyes that he quickly wipes away, tattooed fingers getting a bit wet.

“Jungkook,” You lay a hand over his with sympathetic eyes, “I still love you.”

“Seriously?” He glances up at you, surprised. 

“Yes...You hurt me, you made me feel stupid and I’m not over it...But I never forget those times where I made life difficult for you, you never made me feel irredeemable. No matter how awful I acted, you never made me feel like a burden. That’s more than I can say about a lot of people in my life.”

The more you talk this out with him, the more you realize how harshly you’ve been treating him. It doesn’t change how you feel about your relationship, but it does open your eyes to the standard you’ve been holding him to. You don’t know if you’re ready to start again.

“Well, I have to be honest with you,” He looks at you through his dirty blonde locks, “it still hurts like hell to have you treat me like a stranger. That shit is painful, even for me.”

“I’m sorry,” You murmur out an apology before you can really think about it, “I’m just upset at you is all...” Slowly, you take your hand off of his and your eyes wander back to his dear-like eyes. 

“Everyone’s telling me I should let you go but I don’t want to. I just need to know that you’re willing to wait for me, and to work on yourself...”

“I’ll do anything, I’ll do whatever it takes for us,”

Shortly after that day, you found yourself thinking more and more about your future. It made you cringe at one point, what were you planning to do with the rest of your life? Whatever you planned to do, you always imagined Jungkook would be by your side. Now, you’re coming to terms with the fact that things may not go as planned.

��Y/n, are you ready?” Lucas calls your name from outside of the dressing room.

”What are you doing in here? This is the woman’s locker room,” You open the door, now fully dressed in your new leotard.

”We’re the only ones here,” Lucas stands with a matching outfit, far less sparkly as yours.

”Why does she always pick these leotards for me? You always get the toned down looks-” You walk over to the mirror, furrowing your brows, “Oh, actually, this one is kinda nice.”

“She knows you’re the most dramatic out of the two of us, maybe that’s why,” He shrugs his shoulders before quickly running back out into the ballet studio. Your least favorite part of your career is the ballet lessons, it’s the most grueling.

“Come on out, Y/n, we only have the studio for the morning so we need to use our time wisely.”

“Sorry,” You walk out with an urgency, “the costume fits okay, a little snug but it’s doable.”

Coach gives you a knowing look, she’s been floating the idea of a diet around. As committed as you are to your craft, dieting is one thing you don’t think you need to do well. You try to stay fit but sometimes you’re more concerned about your dwindling love life than you dress size. The ballet instructor emerges from around the corner and you cringe, the next few hours are about to be painful. 

Yet, as the class progresses, your thoughts drift farther from the positions and you find yourself zoning out completely.

*

*

At one point in time, you couldn’t imagine being without Jungkook. Out of all of the people who’ve come and gone out of your life, he stayed. He became your best friend and your first love.

“I don’t want to be here anymore, please, just let me go home,” You sat on the hotel room floor, hair pin in your hands and a painfully cold ice bag on your ankle, “...I can’t go back out there.”

She stands with crossed arms, her unchanging expression not doing anything for your emotional state.”Y/n, you are a professional, and do you know what professionals do?”

”No.”

“They finish the competition, no matter what. You need to stay for the judging, “

“Why? I fell on my biggest jump on live television. Cindy. I look like an amateur...There’s no way in hell they’ll even consider placing me. That means I’m done for, I might as well kiss nationals goodbye.”

”That was the last program, you still have a chance-“

”Not after Charlotte’s routine! You said it yourself, I had to be flawless or Charlotte would take my spot in the qualifying team, there was no room for error. This is the one time it had to be perfect...” You use the bed to help you up and you sit down n the edge of it.

”It won’t be perfect every time. You work harder than any girl I know, and not just in this sport, you work hard at whatever you do and you support yourself, you’re the only girl I know who’s parents aren’t paying for you to be here. You deserve to be here, you made one mistake, one. It’s not the end of the world, sweetheart,” Cindy takes a seat beside you, a comforting hand going to your shoulder, “these things happen.”

You take a deep breath, trying to calm down and think rationally. Cindy is trying her best to talk you off of the ledge but you’re very much still there. She says you work so hard, but what do you have to show for it? You’re doing this alone a majority of the time. Your family only comes to support you sometimes, they don’t have a lot of free time to spend on your hobby. Your iceskating is a glorified hobby to them, they won’t say it but it’s true. After they told you to pick a major and find a good paying 9-5, they stopped paying for your iceskating. They’re paying for school but that’s it, you’re supporting yourself in every other aspect. That gave you all the reason to try to prove to them that you were an exceptional athlete. To prove to them that you did it all on your own, that’s your only goal. Yet, the more you reach for that, the farther you get from it.

”Listen, I need to check on the other girls, alright? I hope you reconsider.” She pecks your forehead, a motherly affection that you’ve come to appreciate from her. She is like a mom in some ways. She cares for the entire team, and she would never say it, but she has a particular soft spot for you. She can see how much you want this, how the ice can take you to a different place.

You were meant to do this, she always tells you that. She saw the fire in you as soon as she accepted you on her team. Your passion attracted her to you, you never stopped, you had so much drive. Some people are meant to fight tooth and nail for what they want, sometimes you have to ask yourself, why do I have be one of those people?

Ignoring your better judgment, you packed your bags and took the 2-hour drive back to your apartment. All while you were fleeing the city to seek refuge at home, you received multiple phone calls from Jungkook but you couldn’t bring yourself to call him back. When you got home, you took off your tracksuit and sank face first into your coach. 

As much as you wanted Jungkook to come to the competition, you insisted that he stay and take that job. He hasn’t been boxing as much so any extra art job he can take, you encourage him to take it. He told you he’d streamed the competition while working on the mural at a nearby bar. His heart sank when you took that fall.  You put hours of practice into that routine and perfected it, he had seen you do it flawlessly several times. 

All he wanted to do was hug you and tell you that you did well but all he could do was hope that you weren’t beating yourself up. He could only imagine how devastated you were and to not be able to be there for you, he couldn’t stand it. He finished up the mural and you had finally texted him saying, ‘I came home early.’ He went straight to your apartment with the big pink bunny he bought for you, you need it even more now.

”Hey, it’s me,” He opened the front door and announced himself softly and walks further inside. 

The television barely illuminates the living room but he sees you laying on the couch. He sits the bunny down behind the couch so you can’t see them before walking around to greet you in your depressing state.

“I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow, baby,” He rests a hand on thigh and kisses your cheek, “you must’ve known how much I was missing you,” His attempt to make you smile goes painfully unnoticed. 

He bites at his bottom lip in thought. “Did something happen?...”

You swallow the lump in your throat and finally look him in the eyes, “Did you watch my second program?” 

“I did, you looked beautiful-”

“I’m quitting.”

He turns his whole body to you, brows deeply furrowed like a cartoon character. “What?”

You cover your face with a pillow, successfully hiding your tears, “I’m calling Cindy to tell her I don’t want to do it anymore, I quit.”

“Woah, wait, why?” He takes the pillow from you to see your face, “Y/n, calm down, what’s going on? Tell me what happened.”

“I- I didn’t make the national team, that was my only chance until next year. All my hard work went down the drain and everyone saw me screw up..” You wipe your tears with your sleeve.

“Hey, it’s okay, you cry if you need to,” He pulls you into a hug, cradling your head to his chest, “I know this is tough for you but it’s not the end of the world, it’ll get better.”

You pull away from him as if he were suddenly hot to the touch and bury your face into the arm of the couch. “You wouldn’t understand, the pique of my career was riding on this, and I blew it. It feels like the end of my world, okay?” 

You know your words are muffled by the couch, that’s probably for the better anyway. “T- that’s just how I feel...” 

He doesn’t pry any further after that. He knows there’s not much he can say to change your mind right now. Instead, he scoots closer to your side and places a comforting hand on your back, rubbing soothing circles as he waits for you to continue.

“I have nothing if I lose this, there’s all this pressure on my shoulders and its tearing me apart...” You turn to wipe your face and sit up. “I love skating, it’s all I’ve ever wanted to do...if I stop, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”

You’ll never forget that night. 

He lifted you into his lap and kept his arms tight around you. “You’re so much more than just your skating. You’re so good at but it’s not all that you are.” Jungkook has a way of talking you off of the edge but that night, you were especially down on yourself.

“Yes it is...” 

“No it’s not,” He sighs, “look, I know what it feels like to find your identity in something and then all of a sudden, that something is gone...When my portfolio got rejected, I felt like a failure. My family never got behind the boxing thing, so I’ve always tried to find another way to support myself just in case for whatever reason it doesn’t work out...I didn’t start realizing that until recently. I’m constantly torn between giving up one dream for the other but I want to do both, you actually inspire me to do both.” You furrow your brows, briefly abandoning your own issues to listen to him. 

“You work so hard and you’re showing your family that you can do this, you just have to believe in yourself, and you know what? You’re doing amazing. Tonight was just a bad night, it happens.” He squeezes you tight and you do the same, arms fastened around his neck as if it would kill you to let go.

You didn’t need to say anything after that. You settled your mind and you were no longer at the edge, you were still close, but not there. With your head resting over his shoulder, you try to peek over the couch to see what he dropped back there when he walked in.

“Hey, what’d you think you’re doing?” Jungkook leans forward and your grip around him is loosened so you can no longer look back there. “You think I got something for you?”

You look down a bit embarrassed that he caught you, “Well, yeah...you did,  didn’t you?” You smile for the first time tonight and he breathes a sigh of relief. Finally.

He was going to tease you for wanting your gifts even though you just had a meltdown. But how could he? He wants to keep this smile on your face for as long as possible.

“Sit,” He lifts you off his lip and back to your previous seat on the couch, “no peeking.”

You hold your hands over your eyes, excited even thought have no idea what it might be.

“Okay, open.”

When you move your hands to see you squeal in excitement. “Oh, Jungkook! It’s so cute!” You stand up to take the pink bunny that’s almost more than half your size. “Thank you,” You lean into him with the bunny between you two, “it’s so big and soft, like you.”

“Yeah I know,” He sways from side-to-side with you in his arms, “you feeling better?”

You muffle your sigh into the stuffed animal, “I still wanna quit.”

“Oh stop,” He pulls the from your grip and tosses it onto the couch, “you’re just being bratty now,”

“No I’m not,” You whine, the issue still very fresh, “I’m still sad...I just really like my gift and I’m happy to see you...But I am still upset.”

“Aw, I’m sorry,” He lays on the couch and beckons you into his arms to lay on his chest, “let’s cuddle you until you feel better then, will that help?” 

“Maybe...”  

You’d be lying if you said you could live without that side of him.

*

A few days later, you’re surprised you hadn’t heard from him. But when you get back from the gym with a missed call from him and a solemn text to  ‘call back when you can’, you actually call him back.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, nothings wrong. Thank you for calling me back.” 

His voice sounds relaxed but a bit anxious.

“Did you need something?” You sigh, pouring your boiling water in your mug.

“Are you free to go with me somewhere at 11? And then maybe, we could grab dinner? Just-...Don’t be mad, please.”

Anxiety bubbles in your chest.

“What’re you talking about?”

“I signed us up for couples therapy.”

“You did what?” Somewhere in your mind, you had wanted him to bring this up—you never imagined that he actually would.

”You said we don’t know how to work on ourselves together, I read that therapy helps with that. Will you go with me? If you don’t like it, you never have to do it again I swear.”

“Jungkook...I appreciate the effort, I really do, but how did you find this therapist? Do you trust them?”

”Of course. He has great reviews online and my-...Well, my mom found him actually.”

You pause, a bit taken aback. He talked to his mom about your relationship and he took her advice about seeing a therapist? He must have really taken your words to heart about getting help.

“Can you pick me up?”

“Sure, I’ll be there in 20.”

When he picked you up, you were reminded just how well he could clean up. Sure, he always dresses so well and smells amazing, but he’s different today—you can tell he put in a lot of effort. You’re glad you decided to do your makeup and where a nice sundress, you would have felt terribly under-dressed.

“Hi, how can I help you?

“Hi, we have an appointment for Jeon at 5, with Seojoon.”

You stand next to Jungkook at the front desk, your hands tightly clutching your purse. It’s hard to not think the woman is judging you and Jungkook for being here. She’s probably seen hundreds of people come into this office but something in you can’t shake the feeling. She directs you two to the waiting room and says he’ll come get you two in a few minutes.

“So,” You begin, glancing at Jungkook, “I’m nervous...” 

“Me too.” This is new for the both of you. In only a few seconds, who you assume to be Seojoon emerges from the hallway and you look at him a bit wide-eyed. 

“Hi, Jungkook, Y/n, are you two ready?” 

“Oh, um, yes.” You stand up in sync with Jungkook, already wanting to run out of here but you resist.

You have to admit that the office is really nice, not stiff and sterile looking, the energy is very calming. Seojoon opens the door to a cozy-looking room with tons of natural sun light. There’s warm-rose colored couch that you assume is for ‘the couple.’

“Alright, you can take a seat right there, make yourselves comfortable.” He smiles, taking a seat and you two do the same.

“So let’s get right into it. What brought you two here today? If you could both tell me your separate answers, that would be great.” Despite Seojoon looking at you directly to presumably go first, you divert your eyes and look at Jungkook to say something first.

“Well, we’re- I think we’re going through a lot right now and I just want to save our relationship.” Jungkook sits back, resting against the arm of the couch as he gazes at you to give your answer.

“What about you, Y/n?”

You glance down at your lap, feeling very out of your comfort zone and not confident enough to verbalize what you would like to say. Alas, you try.

“I feel the same way, we’re not in a good place and I’m confused about what to do-...I just want what we used to have.” You confess a bit of your true feelings but ignore the longing look Jungkook gives you.

“When did you start feeling like the relationship was changing?”

“Fairly recently. We were fine, at least I thought we were until I saw him with another girl back in an old lifestyle that I thought he gave up...”

Seojoon diverts his attention away from you and to Jungkook. “Jungkook, do you want to share a little bit about that?”

“Not really,” He answers honestly at least.

“Why not?”

“To be honest, I don’t know why she keeps throwing the same jab at me. I’ve told her the truth but she doesn’t want to hear it. I went out that night,” He almost glares at you, “I didn’t plan to. I ran into an old friend and I just-...I thought it was harmless and I got caught up...” 

Seojoon scribbles something down. “Okay, so can you fill me in a little bit. Are we talking about unfaithfulness? Addiction?”

“Unfaithfulness,” You interject. “he said he didn’t cheat on me but...” You mumble, your confidence faltering for some reason. “It’s hard to believe that.”

“But you think he did so you have some distrust. Were you unfaithful, Jungkook?”

“It doesn’t matter if I say I did or I didn’t, she thinks I did.” He shrugs.

”Y/n,” Seojoon puts an end to the death stare you had on Jungkook, “can you tell Jungkook what cheating looks like to you?”

”Not sleeping with her doesn’t mean you didn’t cheat on me. Letting her put her hands on you- And I don’t care if it was just a kiss! You shouldn’t have been in that situation, and for me to have to see it on social media? I could have killed you I was so mad. You should ask Jungkook what cheating is to him. We obviously have different standards for defining it...”

”What does cheating look like to you, Jungkook?” He heeds your suggestion without any push-back.

”To me,” He hesitates, feeling a bit scrutinized, “it’s when a person violates the intimacy of the relationship by giving it to someone else.”

“What kind of intimacy?”

“Emotional, physical, every kind,” He turns to you, “I wouldn’t do thingst that I do with Y/n with anyone else, not by choice-”

“Yes you would! You did...Are you trying to tell me that you were assaulted? That she forced her way on you?”

“I was blitzed! I don’t fucking know. All I do know is that she got on top of me and I pushed her off. That’s it. I swear, if anything else happened, I don’t remember it.”

“I don’t care. You know what I’ve been through, to even allow another girl to even get close to touching you like that...It was a slap in the face.”

Seojoon’s ears perk up at the mention of your past. “Did you have to go through a similar situation in a previous relationship?” 

“Yes and he knows this. I was being cheated on before and the guy had a literal baby on the way throughout our entire relationship...It was traumatizing.” It stings his ears to hear you say that. But it’s true, he knows your past and he didn’t let it stop him. 

“What happened must have triggered you,” You nod to yourself, “but you’re here to try to work through forgiveness and build trust. If you two are comfortable with it, I’d like you do do two exercises; one here and one when you’re alone. The first one that you’ll do here, I need you to face each other, preferably close, and I have some questions for you two to ask each other.”

“Like this?” Jungkook answers instantly and turns to you, getting closer to you than he has in weeks. You face him slowly, eyes wavering a bit. His face has always been a soft-spot for you, staring at him makes you feel weak.

“Actually,” Seojoon stands up, gesturing for you to do the same, “two chairs might be more comfortable, yeah? Let’s go to my other room.”

You follow Seojoon to a small room with three chairs a small table in front of them. Jungkooks pulls seat out so they’re facing each other. When you look up to acknowledge him with deliberate eye-contact, for a moment he thinks you might be softening. 

“I want you all to start with ‘I’ statements, tell your partner how you feel or how you felt in this case. Try to maintain eye-contact and truly listen to each other.”

“I’ll go first,” You volunteer because you want to get this over with.

“I feel alone and helpless when you go back to your old habits, I feel like you’re hiding things from me...” You find a way to keep your eyes-locked to his. 

“I’m not asking you to be perfect but I just want you to make me feel special to you...Like you wouldn’t dream of being with someone else. Because I don’t think of loving anyone else, and trust me I’ve tried to imagine it but I can’t,” You bite your cheek to keep from crying, “you make it so hard to trust you. You don’t listen and you don’t change until it’s too late.” 

Being emotionally inept is something you are both too good at. It’s difficult for you to share your true feelings with a clear mind, but when you do, you can never guess what will happen next. 

“I feel trapped by you. I know I fucked everything up, okay? You don’t have to keep reminding me.” His tone is harsher than you anticipated. 

“I’m trying to put in the fucking effort to help us, and I’m giving you time. But when you tell me you still want me but you won’t even let me come around, it’s confusing. You’re confusing, that’s just how I feel.” His brows furrow and you notice Seojoon watches the exchange intently.

“But I miss you and I want you back, I don’t want to take a break,” He leans forward with his hands firmly gripping your knees over your dress, “I know you think I’m an asshole but I try to change, I’m trying, you know I wouldn't bring you to this if I could think of any other way to prove that to you.” The strain in his voice only stirs more emotions inside of you. 

“Jungkook,” Seojoon calls his name softly and Jungkook looks over as if he forgot he was there, “try not to engage in any physical, okay? It can be overwhelming.”

“Sorry,” He takes his hands from you and sits back, “that’s all I want to say.” 

“Alright, well, um,” Seojoon clears his throat, eager to break the tension up a little bit, “unfortunately our session is up but I want to give you two a list of exercises and talking points. I know this was a consultation appointment but I want to give you some things to work on at home. I’ll have Kelly type up your homework, alright?”

“Okay, thank you,” you both thank the therapist but you get up with an urgency and leave the room before Jungkook can follow you. When you make it out to the waiting room, you spot the bathroom and you bolt to it. Before you have to spend a car ride with him, you need to get your emotions together. 

“Mr. Jeon,” The receptionist calls him from the hall, “this is for you, you can bring it back to the next appointment for a discount.” Jungkook halfheartedly thanks her before going to the car. He doesn’t even know if there will be another session. He needs to smoke before you come out and you’ll freak if he smokes while you’re in the car. 

“Why did I come here...” You look at the mirror and frown, you look so rough. It was nice to get everything out in the open but you knew he’d get intense eventually. Only when the toilet flushed did you remember that there were multiple stalls in here. When you look away from the mirror to fumble through your purse, just trying to avoid talking to her. 

”Hi, how are you?”

“I’m okay, how are you?”

“Oh god, nervous, I’m nervous. Me and my husband, we’re newly weds, our appointment is in five minutes and I really don’t know what to expect. Did you have an appointment with your partner?”

“I did,” You sigh, “it was-...It was fine, don’t be nervous.” In your attempt to comfort her, you find your self in a highly hypocritical position. “Me and my boyfriend, we’re different so ours was a little- A little chaotic but I think it helped a little,” You hesitate, “I don’t know.”

“That makes me feel a little better, hopefully my husband behaves himself,” She tosses her wavy brown hair over her shoulder and smiles, “well, it was nice meeting you.”

It takes you a moment but you gather the strength to wave goodbye and go face your boyfriend.

”Excuse me, Miss, I think your husband forgot to grab this.” The receptionist waves you over and hands you a little folder.

”Oh,” You try to hide the blush forming on your cheeks.  he’s not my- We’re not married.” 

”Oh, I’m sorry! He only put his last name on the appointment so I thought it was your name as well. Sorry about that, have a great rest of your day.” She bids you farewell with a flustered smile.

When you walk outside, you see Jungkook leaning against the car. You thought he might’ve been smoking but you can’t detect any small. That’s a relief.

”You feeling okay?” He questions gently. 

You nod, hopping in the car with the desire to be home already. He gets in the car and glances at you from the corner of his eye, he worries that this might have been too much for you. 

“Where do you want to eat?” 

“There’s a ramen place down the street, that’s fine with me.” You suggest, eyes trained on your phone.

The air in the car isn’t tense or stiff, its just quiet. There’s a lot to unpack from the session and you figured Jungkook was thinking through it too. That’s why when you two arrived at the ramen shop, took your seats, and placed your orders, the silence was getting to be a bit too awkward for you.

“I like the new hair, you’ve never gone this blonde before,” You glance up at him, trying to start a conversation, “it looks good.”

“Thanks, it was an impulsive thing. I heard you decided to get back into pairs,” He brings the coke to his lips, “I was surprised to hear that.”

“Oh, yeah,” You figured he would find out soon, “I’m back with Lucas for the season.”

“Good for you,” That’s not a reaction you were expecting from anti-pairs-skating Jungkook. Then again, you know him well enough to know that he’s probably keeping his true opinion to himself.

“The receptionist gave this to me,” You pull the paper out of your purse and show it to him, “I think it has additional information.”

“Let me see,” You hand it to him, “hm, soul-gazing? What the hell is that...” He reads over the description and it makes him giggle. “Nonverbal communication between lovers, allows couples to explore intimate places in the relationship. We do this already, but it’s a little more than eye contact,” He recalls those dreamy moments that he used to share with you so often, gazing at you with a smile.

“We can try that later maybe,” You avoid his smile with a glance out the window.

“Okay. So, about the session today, I hope you understood where I was coming from...I didn’t expect to say all that, I’m sorry if it was too much.”

“Don’t apologize, I wanted to hear how you felt.”

“I’m sorry,” He extends a hand out on the table, hoping you’ll take it, “I’ve thought about what I’ve done and I’ve tried to repent for it. But at the end of the day, it’s up to you. But just tell this once, you miss us, don’t you?”

“I do, Jungkook...It’s just, I’m in a tough spot and I don’t- I don’t want to disappoint anyone or myself.”

“You’re talking about your friends or your family?” He frowns at the thought of either party trying to discourage you.

“My family doesn’t know anything about this, it’s my friends who are concerned for me. They saw me get hurt and they don’t want to see it happen again, they want me to be happy.”

“Don’t listen to them, all they do is talk shit about me and try to tell you what you need. The only people who have a say in this relationship is you and me. We choose what makes us happy, not them.”

“But I’m not happy,” And it doesn’t change the fact that you’re still being judged, “I’ve actually been depressed when I think about us, when I think about what we used to have and what we have now, how did this happen?”

“I’m sorry I did this to you,” He sighs when you finally reach out to take his hand, “I never mean to hurt you,”

“I want you back so bad sometimes,” You break, letting your true feelings out to him, “but just because I want it doesn’t mean I should, it’s always been hard for me to separate the two.”

“That never stopped you before,” He flashes that smile, the one you fell so hard for on the roof of his car. 

“Now look where I’m at,” You take your hand back, “going to therapy with you.”

*

*

Jungkook took you home and sunset had passed, it was already dark. You found yourself inviting him in, hugging him longer than you should have when he was on his way out. Why were you holding on to him so tight? His bomber jacket lands on the floor and you relish in his arms, you haven’t felt like this in a long time. Maybe it won’t hurt to let him in, indulge. It doesn’t take long before you let him kiss you for the first time in weeks. It feels new, it can happen a thousand times and it’ll always feel new. 

But then your phone begins to ring and reality washes over you like a cold shower.

“Wait,” You pull away from the kiss and slide off of the counter to his dismay, “I need to get that-”

“Ignore it,” Jungkook cups your jaw, trying to persuade you with longing eyes, “please ignore it-”

“I can’t, it’s my mom, something might be wrong,” You quickly answer the phone and walk into the living room. “Hello?”

“Where are you?”

“I’m at home, is something wrong?”

“You forgot, didn’t you? Your brother Leo, you were supposed to pick him up so he could stay with you for the night. me and your dad had to take Milo to his Taekwondo tournament for the weekend.” Your mother stresses over the phone.

“I’m so sorry! Mom, seriously, I totally forgot,” This is the worst possible timing, “doesn’t Leo have his license, he can drive here, can’t he?”

“We have the car. Don’t worry about it, it’s handled now, his friend came by and he’s staying with him.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know how that crossed my mind,” You can’t help but feel as if you’ve disappointed her by forgetting such a simple thing, “I’ve been busy, I’m prepping for the next season, I’m working and in school, it’s a lot right now-”

The conversation  ends with a cold lecture from her and a solemn goodbye when she hangs up. You massage your temples, and look at Jungkook who’s coping with the best part of his day being ruined by a phone call.

“Everything okay?”

“I forgot to pick up my brother, my mom asked if he could crash here but I forgot all about it..”

“When have any of your siblings actually visited you? Except for your sister when she needs a babysitter.” Jungkook always sports a defensive tone when your family comes into the conversation.

“He’s only come over a few times. But he has friends who live over here so that’s normally why,” You take a deep breath. “She sounded frustrated so I know she’s upset.”

”Don’t stress about that,” He comes in close, wrapping his arms around your waist. “your mom shouldn’t beat you up about that, especially since she knows how much you have on your plate.” He smooths down your hair and kisses your forehead gently. That innocent forehead kiss quickly migrated down to your neck and you bite your tongue.

”Jungkook, please,” You get out of his embrace and leave him longing.

"Why do you keep pushing me away? I know you, this isn’t like you. You push me away but never for this long,” He follows you to your bedroom where you kick off your shoes and take off you cardigan. ”If you’re serious about making this work again, you’ve gotta help me out a little here.” 

You feel him looming behind you, so close that you feel the warmth of him on your lower-back, or is that his hand?

“You’re here, aren’t you? I’m being really nice right now,” You step away from him, “but you need to stop.”

“Stop what?” He feigns ignorance.

“If that’s what you were hoping for you should just go,” You pick up his jacket and hand it to him, “it’s not happening.”

“Ok, but do you mind if I stay the night?” 

You stare at him in disbelief for a moment, debating whether or not that’s a good idea.

“Why? It’s not even that late yet.”

“I don’t want to make the drive home, I’ll leave first thing in the morning.” He pleads, those big round eyes helping his case immensely.

“Fine. But you’re on the couch,” He looks a bit disappointed but he was expecting that, “I’m gonna shower, you can wait for me or use the guest bathroom if you want.”

With that, you walk off into your bedroom to get your clothes and then into the bathroom in the hall. Though you hesitated to let him stay, it’s really not a big deal now that you think of it. He’s stayed over more times than you can count so you feel no need to punish him by saying no.

Baby steps. 

Jungkook falls into the couch, relieved and anxious—but mostly relieved. He was sure you were going to throw him out. When he hears the shower turn on, he begins to wonder what you might be thinking about, do you want him the way he wants you right now? If so, you’re hiding it pretty well. Just being in your home makes him feel comfortable and happy, that and your presence. You’ll be a while in the shower so he figures a few moments of relaxation on the balcony won’t hurt. 

*

When you step out of the steamy bathroom, you hug your robe tightly to your body. Curious to see what he’s doing you peek out of the hall and see him on the balcony, shirt nowhere to be seen and smoke wafting from the little stick in his finger. Jungkook has always been a temptation, a forbidden fruit so to speak. You had one bite, and that’s all it took. 

It’s a warm night, that’s probably why he’s showing all of the neighbors his tattooed glory, you giggle to your self at the thought. You run to your room to slip a t-shirt and shorts on so you can join him, you can indulge him in conversation at least.

“Hey, I was going to get a snack,” You open the sliding door and he looks back at you as he exhales a a cloud, “are you hungry?”

“I’m okay,” He puts it out in the ashtray, “thanks,” 

“You didn’t have to put it out for me,” You step onto the patio and close the door behind you.

“I was done anyway,” He says that but he clearly wasn’t, he’s just being sweet, “how was your shower?”

“Good,” You sit beside him, “you can go ahead and shower if you want to, you know where your clothes are.”

“I will in a minute,” He looks out, enjoying the view of the city, “it’s beautiful out here...”

“Yeah,” You smile, reminiscing on the many moments you two have shared together on the balcony.

“So,” Jungkook sighs, probably reminiscing on the same thing, “do you want to do that exercise?...”

“Exercise?- Oh, the eye-contact thing, we can...” You turn to him and he does the same, “so, do we-”

“Shh,” He holds a finger to his lips, “we’re not supposed to talk,” 

You swallow, eyes locked on his and his on yours. His eyes are so dreamy and mesmerizing, they always have been. This eye-contact is giving you a great excuse to analyze his face. The little mole under his lip, his cute nose and cheeks—you’re trying not to look at his body but it’s hard to do that right now. 

He’s doing the same thing to you. Your eyes, nose, lips, he’s just taking it all in as if your a sculpture at a museum. Looking at each other like this reminds you both to see each other, to really see the human you both decided to love.

“Jungkook,” You know you’re not supposed to talk, “don’t cry...” You thumb the tears away from his cheeks, your motherly habits kicking in.

“Shit,” He wipes his cheeks, “I don’t know why I’m crying, I just-...I really love you, like, just staring at you really fucks me up.” He’s so emotional, it’s more endearing than anything.

You cup his jaw and kiss the apple of his cheek, then his lips. His hands are almost shaky when he reaches up to hold your face, you lead his hand to your face to let him know that you don’t mind.

“I love you too,” You breath, your head in the nape of his neck, “but I can’t do this, I shouldn’t...”

Once you realize you’re no longer in your own chair but in his, it’s too late to pretend you’re not equally as desperate. It escalates and the best and worst happens. 

[melxncholymermxid]

2021: A Year in Review

I'm normally the last person to toot my own horn and give myself flowers, but I've seen a couple posts about what we all accomplished this year, and I wanna partake.

Early 2021 was rough. A close friend had recently been in a car accident and without a car. I'd been with her at the time and we worked together, so I offered to drive her around. She has kids so it wasn't just work, it was day care, school, groceries, her dates (she had an awful breakup in summer 2020 and she was starting to get over it), smoke seshes (she lived with her mom and without a car had nowhere to smoke and she needed to to be able to eat/sleep/etc), and any other obligations she had. This lead to having issues with getting to work myself, along with burn out and resentment on both ends in our friendship.

We also got two new managers who came from a less busy store and, to be fair to them, had no idea what they were getting into. I slowly became one of the most depended on in my department while simultaneously getting shit from managers who only seemed to notice me when I did something wrong.

I started a new job in May while continuing to stay at my old one. Haven't done that since I was 18 and my new job was EXTREMELY physically demanding. Between the two jobs, stress and little to no free time to eat, I lost quite a bit of weight. I've always had body image issues and the threat gaining it all back if I quit kept me at a work flow that I knew I really couldn't manage.

At my former job there was a posting to work at one of the locations in the Hamptons (an hour ride from where I lived). They offered to pay for travel and to raise the rate up to $18 (I made 15 and had never had a raise in nearly 2 years). This sounded like a great opportunity. The pros were

A break from my toxic store

More money

Change of pace

More freedom at my new store vs my old one

The cons however clearly outweighed them

1hr drive in traffic

Rude tourists and rich people

Still maintaining my 3-4 am job and barely sleeping before going in @12 (leaving at 11)

Working 8-9 hrs an hour away meaning getting home at 10-11 and sleeping 4 hrs before getting up and getting to my job at 3

Doing the hour drive every day, back and forth because my other job was right around the corner from my place

Not seeing my nana enough and feeling neglectful

After starting I learned that the "travel pay" was deducted from the check, and with the increase of income meant more taxes. In the end I think I made less/the same amount of money.

After the summer was over, and being practically begged by my new friends I've bonded with over the past 3/4 months to stay, I went back to my old store that was just as bad, if not worse then when I left. Another new manager and new hires that did not give a fuck (honestly, I get it) that had replaced all but one person from the old crew. When I returned, aside from getting shit from coworkers who looked down on me for leaving them, I was also alone for 6 out of my 8 hours I worked every night, closing alone. This included:

cleaning the entire department: foors, ovens, fryers(multiple times during a shift if the deli manager complained about the smell), all the dishes from the day (including morning crews mess), tables, the rotisserie chicken warmers(3) in the store, dusting the shelves in our department, and whatever else they needed

Doing 5+batches of rotisserie chickens in a small oven because our rotisserie oven was deemed unsafe by our Union and the store wouldn't call maintenance

Making fried chicken and getting a talking to every time it was empty even though it takes 15 minutes to cook and I could only make 4 packages at a time because one of our dryers was also broken

Spitting all of these chickens plus 3 bins for the morning(45 minute job) to use even though I can count on one hand the amount of times that I've walked in to work with full containers

Doing the prep work our full timer didn't get to that morning (even though when I didn't finish everything she was the first one to bring it to a managers attention)

Cooking the afternoon/night hot bar food, which pre-Covid was a 2-3 person job

On top of the stress of doing all of this alone, I was also ALONE, left to my own negative self talk and self deprecating inner monologue. It didn't help that I only got shit from every single one if my superiors

A rude older coworker who I always hear the shit she says about me from other people

A manager who to this day I still believe didn't like me because I'm black

A new manager who was the most disappointed that I left the week before he transferred to run our shit hole of a department

And multiple upper management who didn't understand how I couldn't handle the jobs of 3 people by myself

After two weeks of being back and already losing my second job, I quit. I was jobless for the first time in over two years. I was 23, an adult, and had nothing to show for it.

I live with my nana because my mother spent the first 20 years of my life being emotionally neglectful and abusive. After moving out 3/4 years prior, she's had a lot of shitty circumstances and even tho our relationship has gotten better, I've carried around guilt of leaving her a year or two after my dad left.

Late 2020 was awful in terms of my body image, sexuality, romantic/sexual relationships. I swore off the possibility of a love life; coupled with the burn out of early 2021 I started to enter my ✨nothing matters✨ phase.

Why was I killing myself working? What future was investing in?

The only positive I could cling onto is that I had saved enough to take a break from the work force. I decided to use my time to look and see what the community college was offering. Seeing as there were plenty of courses that had late registration, I enrolled and started a pharmacy technician program. I was going back to school.

As difficult as it's been to return to a school environment after 6 years of mental burnout from work and adjusting to online schooling, it's the best decision I've ever made. The program only takes a year and sets you up with a job after you complete the course and qualify for the cert exam.

Through the school I'm actually able to get mental health counseling for the first time in my life. I believe in therapy and medicine, but I never believed it would work for me. Somehow my suffering was so unique, I was beyond help. Obviously I'm not "cured", my depression didn't disappear overnight, but just talking to someone once a week who I know is there to help and not judge has made a huge difference.

I also was able to qualify for health insurance, and I have a whole bunch of doctor appointments set up after the new year.

In conclusion (gd this is so long), in the year where day-to-day I felt the least in control and on the right path, looking back now I realize even though its not easy, and there's a lot of work I'm not used to anymore, I am on the right path.

As someone who is incapable of setting long term goals on my own, school gives me a feasible, time constrained goal to work towards, and just a week ago I took a midterm and got the highest grade in my class.

As someone who has felt needy and stupid and wrong my entire life, I can now see a professional and have learned that I, as a person am okay, and everything I've deemed a weakness is just a response to the trauma I didn't believe I had. My anxieties and so many things I'm insecure about are coping mechanisms my childhood self needed in order to survive on my own mentally and emotionally while I was physically being depended upon by my parents to act as a third parent my whole life.

I had a breakthrough the other day regarding my pessimistic, existentialist attitude towards life and also my relationship with myself.

My self hate is rooted in the envy of what I believe I should be and my high expectations that I hold not only myself to but others as well. I'm far more judgemental of others than I previously thought. As someone who prides themselves on being kind and people pleasing and just being a non confrontational person by nature, this all trickles down and concentrates in how I feel about and regard myself.

The person that I hate isn't me, it's the version of myself I've always aspired to. Yet the person who deals with this hate is my inner child. I'm currently very detached from my physical state rn, seeing as I don't know much about her, but I know my inner child.

I know 4 year old me that had to adjust to no longer being the only child.

I know the 8 year old me who blocked out the fact that my dad repeatedly left my mother to raise me and my siblings on her own, on and off for most my entire childhood.

I know 11 year old me who was depressed, going through puberty and was constantly othered in middle school. The 11 year old who just wanted to feel pretty and wanted and had unmonitored internet access and talked to any adult man who wanted to talk to, and SEE, me.

I know 12 year old me who only felt release and control when seeing blood stain my sleeves with holes in the thumb. And later, the 12 year old who was caught and promised that she would start to be listened to and cared about more.

The 13 year old got used to promises not being kept.

15 year old me had to adjust to new people in a new state. She was warned since she started school that we would always move, but after 11 years of knowing everything she experienced was temporary, she had no idea how to "settle in".

16 year old me had a father leave home for the final time. And after mourning the lost of a parent, had to unlearn everything she knew about her favorite parent. While he was there emotionally, when he was there, he was probably the #1 factor in my mom hating her life and not being able to express her love for us properly. I thought for years that she fucking hated me, only to realize she didn't know how and couldn't afford to get help. And the 1st man I ever cared about turned out to be a cheating deadbeat who had no issue leaving the woman he used to love and 4 kids he still convinces himself that he does love to go see family who never really fucked with us like that. He got to have a girlfriend or two and travel while my mom looked for love in anyone who would offer, in return for a place to stay.

17 year old me graduated and became the only parental figure to a 2 year old step brother that her mother and abuser then-husband were too busy to give a shit about. Then I was finally able to get a job, through a very gracious gift from my nana that I couldn't even truly enjoy because mother used to resent me for my relationship with my nana.

I never got to experience a stable childhood, and because of the failings of adults before me I'm fighting an uphill battle. But for all these iterations of me, adult me has to step up. I can't be another adult who let's them down.

I think I've never felt ready, and possibly will never feel ready, for kids is because I've got plenty to handle already.

Not so much a resolution, but some semblance of motivation for 2022 and onwards:

Whether it's work/school related, fitness related, mental health related, etc. I'm not just doing it for me. I'm doing it for the child who had to do everything herself and then some.

Sorry about the long post, if you made it this far thank you, I love you. Have a happy new year 💓

[bubsthebee]

Can’t Say It.

Aizawa x Reader

Word Count: 3,541

A/N: Fluff, dragged out but it’s a happy ending. One shot. Age difference (9 years) Reader is 22 while Aizawa is 31. Mentions of alcohol.  

Reader is a young teacher at UA who has a unique relationship with Pro Hero and coworker Eraserhead. After a while of getting to know each other, will they realize their feelings? OR will they let self doubt get in the way. 

CHARACTER REPORT

Position: UA SCHOOL ADMINISTRATION 

Job Description: Quirk Analysis and Evaluation Processing. 

Name: (L/N), (F/N)                Power: 2/5 D    Intelligence: 4/5 B

Birthday: (5/10)                     Speed: 2/5 B    Cooperativeness: 5/5 A

Age: 22                                 Technique: 5/5 S

Sex: Female (She/Her)

Quirk: Analysis 

-(Y/N) is able to instantly analyze a person and their abilities after observing them, familiarizing themselves with their qurik. This also includes evaluating/predicting situations with higher than average accuracy. With this ability, she can use this information with or against a subject. She can keep up to three peoples' worth of information perfectly memorized at a time. Anymore, her analysis starts to create more errors and her accuracy decreases. 

--

Ever since (y/n) started working at UA, everyone knew that Aizawa’s single streak was in danger. 

While the scruff chined 1-A homeroom teacher taught his bustling young hero course, she supported the admin staff! Specifically falling under processing and evaluating every student's quirk and how to help progress their potential. This means every homeroom teacher ran their notes and evaluations about their students through her every quarter, possibly more depending on how active and intense their training has been. She and her small team are a key to the school’s successful hero and support course. No matter how a quirk was used, they would find the best way to help them improve it. 

Classroom 1-A currently holds the record for most updates and changes to analysis (surprise). With an increase in updates, (y/n) has spent more sleepless nights making sure her work was perfect than she originally thought she was going to. Not that she minded of course! She was young, and found that it helped drive her to improve her passions and skill. Besides her administrative work, she also works as a substitute teacher for English, and Hero Strategy lessons twice a semester. If needed she is more than happy to help with summer lessons. 

Aizawa has had more than his fair share of interaction with the young lady, more than others if one was keeping track. After the hero noticed (y/n)’s sleepless nights because of his students, he offered to stay and bring her coffee. When (y/n) noticed extra heavy bags under his eyes, there would be a nicely wrapped lunch on his desk with a cute thank you note in return. 

Over time a unique relationship developed between the two that anyone looking in could clearly see. Including the students. 

“Mr Aizawa! Your lady friend left ya another lunch, you’re so LUCKY.” Denki and Mineta whined without hesitation. 

“Why don’t we get cute lunches made by cute girls?” 

“Shut up! That’s Ms. (L/n) you’re talking about, not some side chick you dumbos. I think it’s really sweet.” Mina cooed alongside some of the other girls. 

Their homeroom teacher could only sigh, carefully tucking away the lunch box into his work desk as he partially ignored their scattered comments. “Lucky or not, you all should have your notes out and study. Your test scores from  last week clearly tell me I haven’t given enough in class work time. Do I have to cut down on our outside training hours?” The instant shuffling of paper and pencils brought a small smirk to his face. Nothing got his students off his back faster than less training hours. As he took attendance and organized his schedule, the small peeks at the lunch box reminded him about his last encounter with his….coworker. 

--

“Midoriya is such a strange boy you know? I’m surprised his quirk doesn't instantly tear his body apart every time he uses it. I’m glad he’s getting a handle on it, I hated seeing him hurt himself so often.”  You were sat cross legged in your office chair, typing away at your laptop underneath a bright desk lamp. 

“I agree, he needs to learn how to use his body with his quirk.” 

“Exactly!- Well, it looks like his rate of injuries compared to training has decreased. Based off of Recovery Girls records, his quirk usage deteriorated his arm muscle effectiveness. This means he’s got to either limit his usage on his arms, or learn how to use the rest of his body to compensate.” Rubbing your eyes shifted your reading glasses off of your face, exposing the bags that were starting to grow underneath them. 

“You shouldn’t be getting such heavy bags under your eyes like that, you’re too young for those (L/n).” He always notices them, no matter how well hidden. 

“Ya, okay GRAMPS. You’re not that much older than me and YOUR eyes are just as bad, if not worse. And call me (y/n), we’re friends aren't we?” 

Rolling his eyes, Aizawa gets up with a huff to pour some coffee from the nearby coffee pot. “Midoriya is your last report tonight right? Go home, you’ve got Hero Strategy classes tomorrow.” as if on cue, he hands you the cup of warm coffee while you reach out for it with a quiet “Thank you”. 

The way you hold the cup in your hands and let the warm steam brush against your face leaves him staring at you with a soft look. 

“I guess I could leave a little earlier than I thought....” blowing cool air onto the coffee, you slowly take a sip of the warm beverage. Every time you see that look on his face, you can’t help but wonder what he’s feeling. 

After a short while, you both clean up and close the office up. It’s 1 AM and both of you are more than ready to get at least a few hours of sleep in. Like usual, he walks you halfway to your home before bidding his own goodbye. 

“Goodnight (L/n).” As Aizawa turns to walk away, he feels a small tug at his sleeve. 

“I uh-” Turning to look around, he sees you with pinker cheeks underneath a streetlight. How do you always look so...nice? No matter the light you always look nice. 

You slowly slid your hand down his arm to gently hold onto his hand. It was so soft, not just the hold but your skin. You couldn't even look at him but your voice was clear as day. 

“Thank you, for staying with me. I know how tired you must be too….so I feel honored that you decide to spend your important time with me- er, to help me. You’re a great teacher and man Aizawa. Good night.” Just as quick as the moment had started, your touch was gone and you made your way home. 

He was alone, yet he could still feel your touch on his skin. Aizawa stood there for minutes, looking at his hand in awe and strange curiosity. His coworkers and friends told him multiple times, “You two aren’t a thing?”, “It’s obvious that you fancy her Shouta.”, 

“She has to feel the same, you don’t see how she looks at you when you aren’t paying attention.” 

--

         The school bell alerting the start of their first class was what pulled Aizawa out of his mind, looking up to see (y/n) walk into the class with your information tablet. ‘Ah, right. Hero Strategy.’          “Good Morning class! Great to see you all again.” She was chipper as always, her makeup easily covering her endeavors from the night before. The young teacher wore simple black tights with her training sweat jacket, everyone murmured in excitement because this meant that there would be out of class training and demonstrations          Rubbing his exhaustion from his face, the black haired male stands up to go stand near (y/n). “You all have ten minuets to change and get to the field. Any longer and you’ll be stuck in cleaning duty for the week.”

         Iida is quick to stand and grab his fellow classmates attention. “Quickly but in order, please gather your things and head to the gym! No RUNNING!” As valiant as his efforts were, everyone rushed out of the class in fear of being put into the cleaning crew while it was out of their turn. 

         The small smile he saw on your face was sobering, calmly following behind you as you made your way to the gym. 

         Usually, Aizawa would sneak into his sleeping back and nap during other teachers' lessons. These ones were different for him. He would sit off to the side and observe how you worked with the kids.

 While some students could take simple suggestions and immediately apply them, others needed physical examples. You were more than happy to adapt to all their needs as they all trained with their new plans and teachers notes. While Tokoyami nodded and talked with Dark Shadow about your observations, Uraraka carefully mimicked your moves as you slowly countered her attacks explaining how they affected her opponent's momentum even more. 

         He knew you were a natural when it came to children and hero work. The obvious proof was right in front of him. That and he was nine years older than you, yet you both were doing almost the exact same job. That's where everything starts to blur for him. 

         After a quick practice round with Shoji, a rundown with Bakugo about his quirk usage along with Midoriya and the rest of the class, their first class of the day was over. 

         The rest of the day went normal, and (Y/n) left to finish the rest of her lessons while Aizawa did the same. 

 --

         After a long week, you were more than happy to have the weekend to yourself, or so you thought. 

Incoming Call: Keigo <(‘v’)> 

“Keigo?”

 “Hey tiny, sorry to bother but I felt like I should call in and see how you were doing.” 

 “I’m fine, just getting ready to watch some movies and order take in. Had a long week. You?” 

 “Gonna be heading out to an event soon! Glad to hear you're doing good. Any luck with your crush on the office grandpa?”

 You roll your eyes as you wiggle yourself into more blankets, clicking through the different documentaries you could find on YouTube.

  “I don’t have a crush on Aizawa, and even IF I did he is NOT a grandpa. He would probably want someone closer to his age anyway. The whole life experience gap and everything.” 

 “Yeah okay, whatever. Don't get mad at me when you realize I’m right and you're missing out on not being single anymore.” 

 “You’ll be the first person I call when you’re actually right. ” “Ouch-” 

 “Pfft, talk to you later Kei. I have an hour long video about the origin of heroes and it’s calling my name.” 

 “Bye bye!” 

-

         No matter how relaxed you were or how interesting the documentary was, you couldn't get you know who out of your mind. Could you have a crush on Aizawa Shouta? Silver Fox hero of the night? Grumpy man who likes taking naps in the middle of the day? You couldn’t lie, he was attractive and his personality was more than pleasant to you at least. It always felt like something was there between you two..between late night talks and having lunch together sometimes. It felt like there was a connection, and the only thing keeping you two from connecting was a waterfall of hesitation and doubt. 

 “Whatever…”

--

         “WoooOO! Staff Party, this is gonna be a blast Listeners! Present Mic here to keep your evening thrilling with an amazing music selection!” 

         Upbeat music with minimal words played through the old speakers of a rented out ballroom. It was the end of the first semester staff party, everyone was dressed semi formal with their hair done nicely and makeup to match. The decorations were nice, and tables were laid out with food, drinks and chairs to relax and chat. 

         Aizawa was one of the first to show up since he and Yamada came together like usual. Although he socialized with other teachers as they passed by, he stayed closer to the walls and talked with Kayama most of the time. He was dressed fairly well, a simple fitted dark g suit coat with normal slacks. The usually wild and wavy mess of locks was neatly tied back into a very clean half knot that showed off his handsome face. 

         “No date Shouta? I was sure that pretty young thing would be with you tonight. (L/n) Right, she’s such a lovely girl.” Kayama’s hair was curled beautifully around her, a long fitted dress with a deep V cut showing off her lovely charm. Aizawa only rolled his eyes, sipping on his Champaign class to avoid talking even if it was just for a second more. 

         “It would make more sense for her to come in with someone closer to her age or with a friend. She is the youngest person on staff you know.” 

         “Age this age that blah blah BLAH. I know love when I see it-” 

         “Not love, this isn’t some romance film Nemuri.” 

         With a small and understanding smile, Nemuri reaches out to gently pat her dear friend's shoulder. “Someday, you’re going to realize that the things that are holding you back are nothing but a reflection of your own worries. I know you’ll figure it out. You both will. Now try to have fun-” Her attention was stolen away for a moment, a glint of excitement in her eyes clear as day. “If you’re worried about how she feels and how she’s doing, why don't you go show her around and make sure she feels welcomed?” 

         Turning around, the first thing Aizawa see’s is you. A cheesy thing to say, but he almost feels his heart skip a bit.  

         You wore a black turtleneck underneath a midnight blue spaghetti strap dress that fit you just right. Knitted knee high socks and stylish black heel boots finished off your look along with a beautiful pearl pendant necklace. Your hair looked soft and styled in a way he had never seen it before. Your eyes were done up just enough in a way that made them shine even more than they usually do.

         He’s trapped, and he is slowly realizing that he never wants to be set free. 

         When your eyes scan the room for anything familiar, they finally land on a set of eyes that are looking right back at you. You have to stop yourself from visibly gasping, why did his eyes feel so intense? What was he thinking as he made his way across the room to you. 

         Like Moses and the sea, everyone carefully parted to let you both have your moment. They all knew the chemistry between you too, and were more than happy to leave you  alone as they carried on with their conversations and laughter. 

         “You look beautiful.” His voice was low, and held a sense of hesitant tenderness even he was unsure of. You knew he meant it. 

         “And you look very handsome, you even shaved for the party.” With a small laugh you gently ran the back of your fingers across his shaved cheek. This wasn't new, you had done this exact touch multiple times before when you made fun of his stubble yet- it felt more intimate than it ever had before. Aizawa knew he didn't mind it. 

         Carefully sliding his hand into yours, he lifts it up to press a soft and long kiss to your knuckles. “It is a special occasion. Would you like to join me tonight?” He was never a man who cushioned his words, straight to the point and expressing just how he felt was never an issue. You were different. 

         Accepting his offer, you move to accept his offered arm. The night starts slow as you both walk around and chat with other faculty members you work with. With Aizawas help you were confident that you were able to make some new friends, maybe going to this party wasn't so bad after all.

         Everything else almost felt like a breeze. Laughs were shared, drinks were drank- and barriers were being broken down. You and Aizawa found yourselves slowly standing closer and closer together, close enough to where your fingers would brush against each other when one of you moved. All of Pro Hero Eraserhead’s friends could only watch with warm and excited smiles for him. 

         Like always, nights must always come to an end. 

         While some people left to retire for the night, others stayed longer to help clean or help more than drunk coworkers make it home safe. “I’m helping Nemuri make it home Sho! You gonna be okay making it back tonight?” Yamada had Nemuri balancing into his side, laughing as she drunkenly waved some of the others goodbye. “Oh! You all can head back home together if you’d like. I’m just helping clean a bit before I head back home.” you politely cut into their little chat, holding a medium sized black trash bag in your hands. 

         Taking a moment, Aizawa starts to shrug off his coat as he takes the garbage away from you. “I’ll stay behind to help clean. If you’re alright with it I can walk you home.” with wide eyes, the younger teacher could only nod before she turned away to hide her reddening cheeks to pick up more trash and plates. 

         “No worries, now get em TIGEr. RaaArW-” As Kayama tried to cheer her friend on, Yamada tugged her away with an amused laugh of his own. 

          Not even an hour later, everyone was out and the sky was as dark and it could be. The only stars you could see were the large ones as the light pollution shrouded out the smaller and weaker stars. 

         This time around, Aizawa's coat was wrapped around (y/n) shoulders, her head resting on him as they linked arms on the walk back to her house. Instead of splitting off halfway, he walks her all the way up to her front door. It was silent for a moment, the events from tonight silently washing over them. 

         “Thank you Aizawa, this...was a really nice night. I don't think it would have been as enjoyable as it was without you.” (y/n) broke the silence, turning to face and look up at the man she knew she would never look at the same again. Rubbing his mouth in thought, his eyes flicker between the young woman standing in front of him and the road. 

         “I want to thank you as well. I-.” He paused for a moment. 

         “I would like to kiss you, but I understand if you wouldn't. I think after tonight you know what my feelings are for you. I didn't even know about them fully until tonight. Kayama- Midnight was right. I was letting my worries hold me back when I should have been forward like I always am-”  

         Time freezes when he feels your hands pull down his face, your lips eagerly pressing into a kiss with such raw love and desperation. Instantly his arms move around to gently lift you up into him. One minute, two..three. You both only break apart for air and your warm breaths mingle against each other. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while now I think. My friend was right haha...maybe I do have a crush on you. I was just worried because I had no idea if you would even be interested in a relationship, let alone with someone as...young as me. I feel like a high schooler again haha.” 

         The fact that you were able to laugh the way you did and still hold him in your arms brought flutters to his chest. He knew now that he more than just saw you as a coworker or a close friend. He wants to be more. “I know what you mean. Who would want to be with someone as old as me? I would never want to make you feel like I was holding you back.” He would never admit it, but he felt like a young adult experiencing love for the first time...it was a bit embarrassing (in a good way.) 

         “You make me feel so helpless sometimes you know that?” pulling his head down again, (y/n) presses another soft kiss to Aizawa’s forehead. “What am I gonna do with you Aizawa?” 

         “Shouta.”

         “Huh?”

         “Shouta, call me Shouta if you want.” Thankful that it was dark out, he could feel himself heat up at the intimate suggestion. 

         With the way your eyes sparkled while you said his name, he knew he was hooked. There is no going back.          “What am I gonna do with you, Shouta?” 

         “You’ll figure it out eventually. I’ll help you along the way as long as you’ll help me too.” The shared silence was an unbroken promise to do the best you both can. 

         After sharing your final kiss good night, you watch Shouta walk down the street and out of view before returning into the comfort of your home. The jacket around your shoulders smelt strongly of the stoic man you now called yours. Enjoying the warmth and comfort his coat brought you, kicking off your boots you hop over your couch and settle into a comfortable position. 

 Calling: Keigo <(‘V’)>

 “WHY are you calling me at….2 in the MORNING. You gave me a damn heart attack-” 

 “You were right.” your voice was soft and held no regrets. 

 “Right? Right about what?” 

 “You were right, I did have feelings for Shouta. I said you would be the first person to call if you were right. And well, you were right.”          The next hour was spent catching your best friend up on everything that happened tonight. 

-

         On the other side of the story, Aizawa finally made it home and had no problem finding sleep that night. He felt as ease knowing that things weren't going to turn out as bad as he thought it originally was going to be. 

         He can't say it, not yet. 

         But he is in love. 

         And so are you.

[yannowhatigiveup]

My One And Only - Chapter 8

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So this chapter is longer than the previous one and hOpefuLly my writing will get better with each new chapter. One can only hope. And I’m updating this daily cuz I wanna be caught up with all of my chapters so I don’t forget to post one by accident. But the daily updates will unfortunately stop after chapter 13, I guess. For now, enjoy! *totally not debating if I should post chapter 9* also Gabriel, no

Uncle Jagged: Nettie! I got everything ready. Wanna record a bonus track for my new album?

'Oh god'

—————————————————————

Marinette kept rereading the message to make sure she had read it correctly. The message never changed. "Oh Tikki what if my voice sounds horrible? Uncle Jagged will be disappointed and then he won't have me as his designer anymore! He'll probably tell everything to everyone, to Gabriel Agreste, Clara, Chloe's mother and to the whole public!"

"Calm down Marinette!" Tikki flew out the bag and hugged the bluenette's face. "I'm sure you'll do just fine!"

"Thanks Tikki" Marinette said hesitantly. She then approached the hotel doors and towards the elevators. She had felt the gaze of the receptionists and one of them had got up with the intention to talk to her, only to be dragged back down by the fellow receptionist, the one who Marinette talked to yesterday. The bluenette had taken full notice of this but chose to ignore it. She then reached Damian's hotel room and knocked on the door. She heard something metallic drop on the floor followed by a slightly muffled word. Marinette knew exactly what he said but she was confused. She then heard the same voice again though much clearer this time.

"You can come in, the door is unlocked"

~~~

Damian had just finished showering, he was half dressed when he got a message from 'Angel'. He had changed used this nickname as her contact name.

Angel: I got an hour and half till my meeting with Uncle J, you want me to come over?

Damian smiled. Honestly, if he could he would give all his time to her.

Me: Sure, come over whenever you want I don't mind

He was about to put his shirt on when he got an urge to practice with his katana, which he did. He made a mental note about getting dressed soon and he went to the case which his katana was located. He then practiced different stances as well as practicing different motions with the blade. He thought of the bluenette. When he first met her, she struck him as someone defenseless and vulnerable. But he now had the feeling she could take down someone twice her size. Though, that didn't stop him from feeling obligated to protect her. He had become so focused that when someone knocked he tensed. Not that much but enough to loose grip of his katana. The blade sunk into his skin and left quite a deep cut on his upper arm and on the right side of his chest, causing him to drop his katana.

"Scheiße!" He didn't react to the pain, it was the thought of Marinette walking in on this situation. 'Since when do I know German?' "You can come in, the door is unlocked" 'Damn it that's not what I meant!'

Marinette opened the unlocked door to see a shirtless Damian. She probably would've metaphorically died at that point if she didn't take notice to the whole situation. Not only was he shirtless, he was bleeding. 'How did-' she noticed the katana. 'Oh, makes sense now'. The bluenette then sprinted into action. She closed the door behind her, put her bag down quickly but still being mindful of Tikki and turned her attention to the now flustered Damian. She grabbed the arm that wasn't cut and carefully dragged him onto the sofa, she also looked at the katana on her way there while taking some mental notes. 'Looks clean, no rust or scratches that could contain bacteria and seems so have been cleaned thoroughly before use. Great! That makes my job easier'.

"What are you-"

"Hush Shaytan" Marinette interrupted while going to the bathroom, searching for one of those medkits. "Let me take care of you" she said while getting one of the disinfectants in the kit. Marinette then carefully rubbed the liquid into his wounds.

"It stings" he grumbled.

"Awww don't worry little Dami, it will stop stinging soon" Marinette said lightheartedly, as if she was comforting Manon.

"Tt I am not five" he grumbled again. He shifted his body so that Marinette could properly bandage his chest and right arm. After she was done, he flexed his arm. 'She did extremely well' "Thank you, Angel. You really are a life saver". He subconsciously smirked when he saw her face turn a shade of pink.

"Thanks, did I bandage it correctly? I hope I did, oh no what happens if it doesn't heal correctly? What happens if-" she suddenly stopped as Damian had pulled her in close to his chest.

"Honestly you did perfectly Habibti, there's no need to worry" he stroked his fingers through her deep blue hair as a way to calm her down further, but he himself enjoyed it. He knew how Marinette would always think that she's the one at fault and he came up with a way to calm her down. From the looks of it, it was working.

Marinette blushed when Damian had pulled her into his chest, even more so when she felt his fingers brush through her hair. It felt like it had genuine emotion with it, not only just to make her feel better. She took advantage of being close to his chest, his wounds, and used her powers outside the mask to let the wound heal faster. Now knowing that it would heal soon, she enjoyed his embrace, burying herself further into his muscular body. The she remembered something. "So what are we gonna do about your spilt blood?"

"You say that like I deal with this often" he said with a smug looking face. Marinette then had a 'I know you do' face. He jokingly sighed. "I shall clean it and before you object, I feel fine enough to do a simple task such as this." Her giggling brought a smile to his face. "Also have you worked out what Jagged Stone has in mind for you?"

"I'll tell you that after you tell me how you know German" Marinette shifted so that he could get up. "If I recall, you told me that you were fluent in French, Arabic, English and Spanish and that you were learning Japanese. I don't remember German ever coming up" she said in a jokingly serious tone.

"Actually I'm fluent in Japanese now" Damian murmured while getting something from one of his cases, 'Something to clean the blood I suppose' "I was taught an easy way to learn languages, I might have crossed German once before but if so I just forgot about it. Also, how do you know German?"

"Well if you have any interest in learning a new language you'd want to know the swear words, am I right?" She giggled.

"Fair point" he chuckled while allowing his blood to soap into something he brought, a tissue or towel perhaps. "Now, do you know what Jagged Stone's surprise is for you?"

"Yeah, he wants me to record a bonus track for his album"

Damian paused just as he had finished disinfecting his katana. "Wow, that's great Angel!"

"Yes I'm very grateful to Uncle Jagged for organizing all this but what if I sound horrible? I do want to do it for him really, I don't want to turn the offer down but I-"

"Angel, there is no need to worry. If you're not comfortable with it you can tell Jagged, he'll understand. But I'm sure you have a beautiful voice"

"You really think so?" Marinette murmured. Damian nodded. She gave him a thank you smile before saying, "So, what's this quick way of learning a language? I've got 30 minutes"

Damian chuckled. "Well the first thing you would want to know is..."

~~~

'Marinette Dupain-Cheng, the only one in class whose been able to stop herself from getting akumatized. She must be very strong, physically and mentally. My point was proven when she became Multimouse, wearing nearly every miraculous that I've ever heard or come across. Ladybug must trust her greatly. I must find a way to akumatize her'

Gabriel Agreste stood in his observatory after recently detransforming. 'She can control her emotions well but when she's angry, it's incredibly strong. This girl could be one of the strongest in Paris, she could be one that senses auras. I must find a way. I will use her to eliminate all of heroes. All I need is time'.

———

Taglist: @little-bluestar, @miracleofadisaster, @frieddonutsweets, @jjmjjktth, @genderfluidmoma, @starlit-dreaming (ur the one who wanted to get tagged right? I’m so sorry I forget to write your name down so I’m not sure-), @icerosecrystal

[teamhappyme]

a series of promising events (1/5)

aaron hotchner x female! reader

word count: 7.9k :)

a/n: hello hello hello! this is my first hotch fic, and the first of three parts (edit: it’s actually 5 now lolol). it’s going to cover 8 (maybe 9?) events over the course of several years, so it needed to be broken up in the most rational way possible. this is my baby, and has been in the editing process with my lazy brain since september. please, please, please, let me know if the timeline or anything is confusing to you! i have a tendency to under explain things (as my profs will testify to), and i don’t want y’all to be confused. i hope whoever stumbles across this enjoys!

also, big shoutout to @winterscaptain, you are a gift to the world, tali. i am in love with the ajf universe, and that shit inspired me to polish this piece up for the tumblr verse to see. 

alright friends, here we go.

link to part 2: here

**** 

June 2005

You wouldn’t forget your first day in the BAU for as long as you lived. It was forever ingrained in your memory, the good, bad, and embarrassing moments all stored away. Stored away that is until Derek Morgan decided to dredge it back up as you passed your six month mark on the job. 

Derek, Prentiss, Reid and yourself were finishing up paperwork in the bullpen after an unusually slow friday. You were usually the first one done, earning a groan from the doctor across from your desk. They all envied your English degree and professional writing skills. 

“Hey bobo,” The nickname Derek had assigned to you was named after your alma mater, and extremely annoying. “Remember your first day, when I tricked you into doing Prentiss and my paperwork for almost two weeks?” You shook your head, not having to look at Morgan to be able to hear the smirk in his voice. “Do you think I could trick you again?”

7:47. Thirteen minutes earlier than you needed to be. Yet the room full of agents you were supposed to join was already filled. You liked these people already, they were punctual and functioned in the morning. 

You pushed one of the glass doors open with your ballet flat, juggling your box of office supplies while keeping your crossbody balanced on your shoulder. The sound of fingers pounding on keyboards, phones ringing on loop welcomed you into the BAU. Along with a shove to your back, causing you to lunge forward. You felt something cold run down your back, cursing yourself for wearing a white blouse.

“Are you alright?” You looked up to find a tall mop of brown hair and big brown eyes looking down at you. “Well, I’m a little damp.”

He nodded while looking at your box full of sticky notes and pens. “You must be y/n l/n. I’m Dr. Spencer Reid. We’ve been taking bets on what time you’d arrive. And you beat us all with your extreme punctuality.” You laughed. “Sorry to let you down. It’s nice to meet you, Dr. Reid.” You extended your hand for him to shake, but he just stared at your extended limb.

“Yeah, he doesn’t do that sort of thing.” The new voice came into view, shaking your hand that was meant for Reid. He was tall like Spencer, but was lean with a smile on his face. Confident. “I’m Derek Morgan. When JJ told us the new recruit graduated with an english degree, I expected someone with tweed elbow patches and big round glasses.” 

“You’re an english major? Statistically speaking, only three percent of the agents that have been recruited for the BAU didn’t have any background in law enforcement or field experience.” This wasn’t the first time you’d been questioned at the FBI for being a liberal arts degree profiler. Your english degree and your fresh age of twenty five left many people to dismiss you through your time in the academy. But you got used to it. 

“Sorry to disappoint your stereotypical profile of an FBI agent,” You started, shifting your weight between your feet, now uncomfortable and a little embarrassed in front of your new co-workers. 

“Oh I didn’t mean it as an offense. I-” “He’s a genius, but he lacks some social cues. You’re the first girl he’s been around that’s his age in the workplace.” Morgan added and Reid elbowed his ribs. You covered the smile on your face as the two of them started to quietly bicker. 

“Let the poor woman go and settle in at least before you harass her.” A brunette woman in a black pant suit came walking toward you. She had a stern face while looking at the two men, but when she turned to you, her face softened into a smile. “Special Agent Emily Prentiss. You do not understand how happy I am to have another woman out in this bullpen.”

You laughed as she led you to the empty desk across from Dr. Reid’s. “Welcome to your new home.”

“Thanks.” You placed your box down before taking the place in. “I’m supposed to meet with SSA Hotchner,”

“Agent l/n,” All heads turned to the man descending the stairs into the bullpen. He was taller than the other two, and that was saying a lot since they practically towered over you. He had a clean boys haircut, paired with a suit and tie. No question that this was the unit chief you were to report to. “I’m SSA Aaron Hotchner. Welcome to the BAU.” He shook your hand before looking at the others. “JJ’s ready to debrief in the conference room.”

And just like that, the three agents sprung into action, leading the way to the board room. “We can go over the particulars when we get back from Nebraska. You ready for your first case?”

His face didn’t change, no change of tone in his voice. He lived and breathed for the BAU. Until you noticed the wedding band on his left hand. It was always the first thing you looked for when you met someone new. It was shallow and patriarchal, you knew, but it was instinct. And it put you at ease knowing there was someone out there he was doing this for. Someone he didn’t have to hold this demeanor around. 

“Ready.”

“Funny. But if you have any other insults to give, direct them to the head of the english department at Bowdoin. Mention that you’re talking about y/n l/n, with the 4.0 GPA.”

Prentiss led a slow clap as Derek shook his head. 

“I think that’s what the kids are calling a ‘mic drop’.” Spencer added and you couldn’t help your laugh. “Alright kid, why don’t you get out of here before we inevitably find ourselves back.”

You turned off the lamp on your desk and grabbed your crossbody and backpack. “Have a good weekend guys. And Reid,” He looked up, and you laughed as he pushed his hair out of his face. “Please recite the old testament for these two if they mock me while I’m gone.” He gave you a mock salute as Prentiss flipped you off on your way to Hotch’s office. 

In the six months you’d been here, these three people you shared the bullpen with had quickly become the siblings you never had. Morgan acted as your annoying older brother, constantly picking on you and Reid. Not only were you the newbie, but you were now the youngest, only a year behind Spencer. Emily Prentiss on the other hand, was the protective older sister you always dreamed of. She was confident and held her own against the male dominated team, but knew when to be soft spoken and caring with victims and the team when needed.

And then there was Dr. Spencer Reid. The smartest person on the planet, in your book. Sure, he was a little socially awkward and didn’t know when to stop listing off all the stats he knew, but you understood. He was consistently the youngest and smartest person in every classroom he walked into. There weren’t many people that wanted to get to know him without bullying him or picking apart his eidetic memory. Despite the problematic first encounter you shared, the two of you stuck together considering your combined intellect and young age. He taught you the ins and outs of the BAU, and helped you get accustomed to D.C. Although, Spencer himself hadn’t really ventured out into the city in the four years he’s been here. So the two of you tried to see as many things as you could in the rare weekends that you weren’t working a case. You worked your way through a third of the smithsonian's, and saw the Declaration of Independence. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t get a little emotional while looking at it. Spencer had called you a nerd, and you didn’t mind one bit. 

You walked up the steps to Hotch’s office, case reports in your hand from this week. The blinds were open, you could see him working through the stack of files on his desk. Despite the exhaustion written all over his face, his sport coat was still on, tie still impeccably tight around his neck. Even when he was in private he kept up the put together facade.

You knocked on the door, and heard a quiet ‘come in’ as you twisted the door knob. “L/n,” “I have my case reports from this week.” “Just place them on my desk.”

“How much longer are you here for?” He let out a sigh while closing the file in his hand. 

“Another hour or two.” You opened your mouth to respond, but he beat you to the punch. “And before you offer to stay and help me, I don’t need any help.”

“You just don’t want to listen to me singing Coldplay under my breath.” He huffed out a semblance of a laugh. A month into your bout here, Morgan had accosted you on the jet on the way home from Milwaukee. None of you had slept in three days, and you were currently enthralled in your new mp3 player and Coldplay's newest album ‘X&Y’. After the third song, a paper cup was thrown at the back of your head, followed by a ‘I’m trying to sleep, bobo’ from Derek. It was a habit of yours that you had yet to kick. 

“That’s part of the reason.” “I knew it.” He opened another file, and you took that as a cue to wrap up the conversation. You rummaged through your purse, looking for the blue envelope you sealed this morning. 

“Um, I also wanted to drop this off. It’s for Jack, you mentioned he was being Christened this weekend.” You placed the card on top of the pile of paperwork, your cursive handwriting on top. “I was going to get him a stuffed animal or some type of toy, but he’s only three months old and wouldn’t know the difference. This check may be the penny that helps you guys afford Harvard.”

A real laugh escaped his lips now, as he picked up the card. “Thank you, y/n. You didn’t have to do this.” You smiled. “I know, but I wanted to. He’s a cute kid.” 

He looked at the framed picture of Jack on his desk, then back up to you. No one else had mentioned the Christening after Hotch first brought it up. He was quiet, and only liked to talk about his family if he initiated the conversation. You could tell you were the only person who had reached out like this, with a simple gift. 

Hotch had been the hardest person to get to know in your time here. Despite Morgan saying there are no secrets kept among the team, you knew these people had their demons. And Hotch certainly had enough both professionally and personally. You didn’t want to push the professional boundaries, but you always wanted to be present in the lives of people that you shared time with. To let them know you were thinking of them, and cared for them. It was probably your most damaging personality trait.

“I’ll let you finish your work so you can get home at a reasonable hour. Tell Haley I said hi.” He nodded. “I will y/n. Have a nice weekend.”

****

December 2005

You pride yourself in the fact that you haven’t shot your weapon in the year you’ve spent with the BAU. It meant that you were successful at connecting to these people’s emotions, despite the asterisk next to their name labeling them as a serial killer or sadist. Guns were there to protect you, and they were always the last result. But as you pulled up to a log cabin in the middle of nowhere Pennsylvania, you had a feeling your record was going to be broken.

The team was working a case where six bodies, two adult males and four teenage males, were found mutilated, along with a cut from sternum to belly button. It was the first case you worked that had no female victims. A small victory, in your mind. But, it was also the first case you worked that the profile of the unsub fit a sixteen year old girl, who had most likely been assaulted as a young child. When children were involved, the team acted differently. They were failed by the people that were supposed to care for them, they were consistently hurt with no one to turn to. And as a result, they would spend the rest of their lives paying for it. 

You, Prentiss, and Hotch got out of the suburban, strapping the bullet proof vests onto your bodies. Thanks to Garcia, you had found the unsub’s location once she turned her cell phone back on. A cruiser pulled up behind you guys, two more cops falling out. 

“Prentiss, you take the two officers down with you to the exterior basement access. L/n and I will take the main floor.” Hotch ordered as he pulled his gun from his holster. 

You could feel the anxiety rising in your chest, but there was no time to calm it down. You barely had enough time to strap on your vest. 

“Ready?” Hotch looked at you before taking another step toward the cabin. You nodded, pulling your own gun from it’s holster. “Ready.”

You followed him up to the front porch, announcing yourselves before kicking the door in. You cleared the living room as Hotch cleared the dining room and bathroom, leaving you both to meet up in the kitchen. 

That was where you found her. You saw her first, hiding half of her face behind the rifle that she had pointed at you. She was trembling, dried tear streaks left on her cheeks. She was petrified. 

“Stephanie Moore?” Her grip on the gun tightened at the mention of her name as you heard Hotch’s footsteps get closer. “My name is Y/n L/n, I’m with the FBI. I don’t want to hurt you Stephanie, but I need you to put the gun down.”

Hotch joined you on your left, both of you directing your weapons toward the young girl. “I did what I had to do to survive. They took everything from me, every last shred of dignity I had. I wasn’t going to let them kill me.” You never thought it would be possible for your heart to break while listening to an unsub. But this tiny girl standing in front of you, with her whole life ahead of her, it just hit you too hard. 

“I know you did, Stephanie. You were so brave and so strong. Not many people could survive what you did.” She started to loosen her grip on the rifle, you were getting through to her. “I’m here to help you. I want to put an end to all of this.”

You glanced at Hotch and he gave the slightest nod, giving you the okay to take a step forward together. “I couldn’t let them get away with it.” Ever so slowly, the gun started to lower in her hands. 

“You’re doing great. Just a little lower and this will all be over.” Before she could completely lower her weapon, you heard the storm door to the basement slam shut. 

Stephanie jumped, raising her weapon back up in her hands.

“You said you were here to help me!” She exclaimed, the gun pointed at you as Hotch took another step forward. “I am Stephanie, but other members of my team are trying to help the boy you took.”

Fresh tears started to fall down her cheeks and you knew you were losing her. “Y/n,” 

He whispered to you and she moved the gun from your chest to Hotch’s. “Shutup!”

“Stephanie, hey, look at me,” She shook her head, continuing her stare at Hotch. “He’s in on it, he has to be!”

“He’s not! He’s my boss, trust me, Stephanie.” You heard the safety go off, and before her foot landed as she took her first step towards Hotch, you emptied two rounds into her chest. He rushed forward as she fell, kicking away her gun and checking her pulse. Nothing. 

You lowered your gun as your breathing increased, looking at the lifeless sixteen year old lying in front of you. A hand covered your mouth as you realized what you’d done. 

You killed her. 

You remembered what it felt like to be sixteen. Struggling to find your identity, wanting so desperately to be noticed by someone. For anyone to reach out and help you. 

But you took that away from her. You ended her life before it even began.

“Are you guys okay?” You heard Prentiss come up through the basement, but your eyes were closed as she entered the room. “We’re good. Y/n took the shot.”

Hotch stood up and dared a look at you, taking in your grief stricken state. “Did you find the boy?” 

“Yeah, he’s gonna be fine.”

Before Emily could greet you, you ran to the corner of the room, heaving up whatever was inside your almost empty stomach. Your throat burned as you threw up for a second time, vaguely registering two people calling your name.

“You’re okay, y/n,” Prentiss approached you, gently resting a hand on your back. You coughed a few more times before a towel was being rushed to your side. “It’s okay.”

The whirring of more sirens forced you to open your eyes and straighten up from your sick position. Prentiss had eyes filled with concern, not letting go of you until you gave her a slight nod. She handed you a water before she exited the house, letting two uniforms in. They went straight to Hotch, asking questions and looking over the body before their eyes landed on you. You felt exposed, like you were the one lying lifeless on the ground for all to see. You took a few deep breaths to get your breathing under control, and tore your gaze away from Stephanie. 

Hotch finished his conversation with the officers before walking over to you. “Hey,” He rested a hand on your shoulder, and you couldn’t help but flinch. “It was a clean shot, but protocol states they have to take your gun and badge as well as give a statement to IA.” You nodded, taking your badge from your pocket. “They’re gonna take you back to the station and do an interview. This should all be wrapped up in a few hours. We’ll meet you back there, alright?”

You glanced up at his big brown eyes, warm as they bore into yours instead of their usual slanted nature. “Okay.”

The two officers escorted you to their patrol car, taking your badge and gun before you got in. You felt naked without them, like you were a nobody wandering the streets looking for someone to help, or looking for someone to help you.

It was a good thirty minute ride to the station from the cabin, and when you got there a detective from IA was already waiting for you. They led you into an interrogation room where they already had Section Chief Strauss hooked up through video call. Great. 

The questions they asked were pretty straight forward, nothing that couldn’t be answered by a crime scene report from the technicians. But the government insisted on interviewing cops involved in shootings, just in case it wasn’t legal. As if anyone wanted to deal with the psychological repercussions of taking another’s life. 

It took them nearly an hour and a half to get through the interrogation. In part due to you almost throwing up a third time as Strauss asked you to repeat the moment you shot Stephanie. They gave you a few minutes to regroup, some ginger ale and crackers from the vending machine to help settle your stomach. They took your fingerprints last, letting Strauss finish up with the bureaucratic discussion.

“That’s all for now Agent L/n. We’ll debrief tomorrow morning when you’re back in Quantico.” “Yes ma’am. Thank you.”

They led you out of the interrogation room and back through the lobby leaving you at the conference room your team had been set up in the last three days.

The white boards were still littered with images of the victims, crime scenes, and the unsub. Piles of evidence were scattered along the table, and you tried to resist looking through them again. You knew if you went through the images of the mutilated boys again, you wouldn’t survive the emotional turmoil. But you needed to know that you made the right choice, the only choice to prevent more families from going through the same pain and suffering as the Corbins. 

You turned to the white board, glancing at the first victim. Connor Corbin was fifteen years old, on the varsity soccer team, and involved in musical theatre. He was cousins with the teenager that abused Stephanie. She targeted all the men in her abusers life, letting them know what he did to her. Wanting them to understand the pain she’d had to endure because of their ignorance.

You looked through the rest of the victims, the abusers two younger brothers, father and uncle were among those killed. The boys were only twelve years old. You brought a hand up to cover your mouth, remembering meeting their mother on the first day you were here. JJ was the one to speak to her, as the communications liaison, most people trusted her with being the most empathetic. That fact was up for debate, in your opinion. She was a wreck, and JJ needed help comforting her from Morgan. But you understood, boy had you understood. Her whole family was killed. 

“Y/n,” You jumped, startled by the new voices in the room. Hotch, Spencer, and JJ had arrived back at the station. “Did they clear you?”

You nodded as Spencer walked over to you. “Yeah, Strauss just wants to debrief again tomorrow morning.” “Of course she does.”

Section Chief Erin Strauss is a hardass and not the biggest fan of the BAU. “Did they give you your piece back?” Your hand immediately flew to your left hip, void of your gun and holster. “No, I completely forgot about it.” You went to move toward the door, but Spencer laid a hand on your forearm. “It’s okay, I’ll get it.” He gave your arm a comforting squeeze before leaving the conference room. 

You spared a glance at Hotch as you started cracking your knuckles. “JJ, why don’t you call the airstrip, tell them to get the jet ready.” “Yes sir.”

In an effort to keep your mind busy, you started to take down the pictures from the white board, erasing all Reid’s notes in his barely legible handwriting. The boy had three PhD’s, yet couldn’t figure out the concept of penmanship. 

“Are you alright?” “Fine.” You pulled an empty manila folder out, stuffing Connor’s pictures in. “You don’t have to clean this up for them.” “I know.”

He sighed. “Y/n, stop.” His voice was stern now and you dropped the files. “I asked if you were alright.”

“Why wouldn’t I be alright, Hotch?” You crossed your arms over your chest, letting a breath out. “We found her, we saved her from hurting anyone else, and we brought closure to Mrs. Corbin. Case closed, the BAU gets to go home.”

Your eyes started to water but you refused to bring your hands up to wipe them away. You wouldn’t let them fall. “We’ve all been where you are right now.”

“I’m confident that you’ve never felt what I’m feeling before.”

“Try me.” He didn’t flinch, his hands remained in his pockets, stare heavy on your own. 

“When JJ presented this case to us, that two teenage boys and their fathers had been murdered, it was a no brainer for all of us to take it. Two twelve year old boys dead, two more teenagers missing, how could we not take it? But then we got here, and we met with the victims' families, we learned the boys' backgrounds, the unsub’s profile.” You scoffed, not sure who you were angered with at the moment. “This girl was raped by a seventeen year old boy and his father for two years, and we’re still supposed to treat her like a monster, like Tim Vogel?” You shook your head. “I’m not condoning what she did, but, can you blame her? And then we went in, and she had a gun raised at us. I would’ve been able to talk her down, I know I could’ve saved her if she didn’t have the gun.”

“But she had a gun.” You nodded. “She had a gun and it was raised at you. And I didn’t even flinch to take the shot. All it took was two seconds for me to forget her pain, her trauma, and reduce her to a sick serial killer.”

Even though that’s what Stephanie ultimately was, you didn’t want to accept it. Because she was a person before she went through all that pain, she was someone’s daughter, who was involved in gymnastics and softball, and had stuffed animals scattered across her bedroom. God, were you ever going to forget what she looked like?

“Feeling guilty about taking someone’s life is a good thing. It means your human, that you care.” Hotch freed his hands from his pockets, taking the file you packed out of your grip. “You’re not like them, y/n.”

You dared a glance at him as you felt more tears spring to the surface. Those big brown eyes could tell a story all on their own, and right now, they were pleading for you to believe him. You would try. 

“Got the goods.” Spencer came back in, your gun and credentials in hand. “They really had the audacity to I.D. me, as if we hadn’t just worked a case with them the last seventy two hours.” 

He got you to laugh, which served you enough cover to wipe your eyes dry. And out of the corner of your eye, you thought you saw a rare smile cross Hotch’s face. 

But Aaron knew there was more to your guilt than just this little girl. He was the leader of this team, it was his job to know the people he was in charge of like the back of his hand in order to keep them safe. And in the year that you’d been here, he noticed how reserved you were. Too reserved and too broken for a twenty-six year old. How you took on the giver persona to hide the fact that you were terribly closed off to others and your emotions. You would be the first to offer help, to be a listening ear, or lend your shoulder to cry on. But you never accepted it from anyone. Not that you had to, until today. 

When Hotch started to notice you and Spencer growing closer at the three month mark, he was excited. Proud, even. He knew you were struggling with the gruesome cases (he knew you threw up after every crime scene, despite your best efforts with barf bags and travel size mouthwash) and hoped you could share your burdens with the young doctor. But it seemed like they only grew in time, like the smile on your face. Hotch just hoped you knew your limits.

“Gather whatever else you guys need for Quantico. Wheels up in thirty.” Reid nodded for both of you as Hotch left the conference room, presumably to find JJ. 

“Everything okay in here?” He asked as you continued to empty the white boards, this time at a faster pace. Of course he had noticed the red rim on your waterline and the red tip on your nose. Spencer could read you better than anyone else, regardless of being a profiler or not.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just talked through the case.” His feet stayed nailed to the ground, yet his eyes continued to stick to the back of your head. You sighed and stopped moving, turning to face him. “Spencer, I can feel you boring holes into the back of my head.”

He had a sheepish smile and ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry. We have copies of all this back at the office, I already faxed it over to Garcia. Why don’t we spend the next twenty eight minutes searching for a good burger before the flight home.”

You smiled. “Okay. As long as I can get a vanilla shake, too.”

****

May 2006

Growing up, you always wanted an office job. A boring nine to five with your own cubicle, a script to follow when your phone rang and a customer needed help. You’d have a generic wall calendar pinned on the particle board, sticky notes littering your monitor screen, and maybe a few pictures of pets and future family. It was safe, predictable, and what you were constantly told all you would be capable of.

Now, as you’re sitting on the FBI owned jet with your six special agent coworkers, you can’t imagine living that life you once dreamt of. 

It was nearing two a.m., and you were two hours into the flight home from Los Angeles. Reid was passed out on the couch, Prentiss and JJ in the same state of mind in the cluster of four chairs, legs spread out. Morgan and Rossi were sitting across from one another, each listening to their own playlists. And by the way Rossi was tapping his fingers against the arm rest, you knew it was some genre of opera. 

This left you in the back of the jet, staring out the window as you passed over Nebraska. You always had the map up on your screen, wanting to know every state you passed over. No matter the case, you always looked forward to the plane ride. It calmed you, oddly enough. 

“Not tired?” Hotch took the seat across from you, handing you one of the two cups of tea. “Plane rides are too exciting for me to catch any sleep.”

You took a sip of the hot drink and your face scrunched out of instinct. You never liked tea, but you tried it again and again when people assured you that it would calm you down. It never worked. 

“You could just say no,” He added and you smiled. “I know. But my taste buds may change one of these times.”

He took a sip out of his own cup, no change of expression on his face. You couldn’t help the chuckle that left your lips and his eyes narrowed on you. 

“What?” 

“Well, you may enjoy the taste, but it seems like it’s calming chamomile effect has never worked on you, either.” “We’re not supposed to profile each other.” 

“Then don’t even think about rattling off excuses of why I’m not sleeping.”

He looked down at his cup, slowly nodding his head. “Well if you don’t want to talk about what’s really bothering you, because I know it’s not sleep, I can bore you with Jack’s sleep routine we have to stick to.” You smiled. “You know that I’m the only one on this team that would actually be interested in Jack’s sleeping routine. Hell, anything with that chubby little baby would interest me. Bring it on, Hotch.”

It was no secret that Jack Hotchner was your favorite person on the planet. Not only was he the chubbiest little nugget you’d ever seen, he was the result of two of the strongest people you knew. 

The first time you met Haley, she was six months pregnant with Jack, begging Hotch to leave the office early for a date night. You made the afternoon walk up to his office, dropping off some files for him to sign when you first saw her.

“Come on, Aaron. This baby is going to be here before we know it, and who knows the next time we’ll have any alone time will be.”

Before he could respond, you knocked on the open door. Both of their heads snapped over to you, and a red blush of embarrassment spread across your cheeks. “Sorry to interrupt, sir. Just dropping off some reports for you to sign off on.”

You smiled at the petite blonde woman while placing the files on the desk. “It’s okay l/n. This is my wife, Haley Hotchner. Haley, this is Agent y/n l/n, she started about a month ago.” She smiled back at you, extending a hand to shake. 

“It’s nice to meet you, y/n. I’ll leave the agent part out, it makes you sound like a robot.” She said and glared at her husband before placing her hand back on her growing belly. You laughed once you heard Hotch let out a breath, knowing he wasn’t offended with her joke. 

“It’s nice to meet you too.” The smile only grew on your face as you looked at her, admiring her own belly. “Congratulations on the baby. It’s always exciting to bring a baby into the world.”

“Thank you. If only my husband thought going out with me was half as exciting, he would’ve been gone a half an hour ago.” “Haley!” He was more than surprised that she would speak so cavalierly while at the office, especially around someone he had barely gotten a chance to know yet. But the two girls only shared a laugh.

“Hotch, why don’t you go. I can hold things down around here.” “Y/n, it’s not your responsibility to. And quite frankly-” You dropped a file to the desk, boldly interrupting your bosses statement. You were only acting like this because you knew his wife deserved half the attention he gave to this place. “It’s a friday night, and your beautiful, pregnant wife is asking you to go to dinner with her. JJ and I will be here if anything comes up, I’ll even redirect your calls to my desk.”

“I like you.” Haley said with a smile, gently squeezing your shoulder. “She means business.”

Hotch let out a sigh, reluctantly grabbing his briefcase and punching a few buttons on his phone to make sure his calls went to you. “You or JJ call me immediately if I’m needed.”

“Promise. Now go have fun.” He gave you the smallest smile as he grabbed Haley’s extended hand to him. “Thank you, y/n. I owe you one.” Haley said as they exited his office. But you weren’t looking for a favor in return. You did this to make them happy, and you always felt better when those that surrounded you were at their best.

But Haley did end up paying you back. She asked you to babysit the first night her and Hotch went out after the baby was born. Apparently, she was impressed with your background in social services that Rossi had drunkenly let slip at the office christmas party. And only you would get excited to babysit a poopy baby, for free. And you continued to do it as many times as they needed you to.

You earned a smile from the reserved unit chief, and raised a fist in the air. “I’ll have to add that to the team tally sheet. I’m now tied with Reid for the lead in making you crack a human expression.” “Doesn’t matter who’s in the lead, you’re all behind Jack.” He quipped back and you returned his smile.

You looked back out the window of the jet, the view of any terrain was quite literally clouded. You could see the moon reflecting on the puffy clouds, and you knew then and there you could be converted to a night person if you could look at this view every night.

“I wanted to check in with you, about Randall Garner.” You looked back to your boss, eyes glued to your own, an earnest gaze in them. “With what happened last time-”

“Last time it was a sixteen year old girl. This time it was a psychotic father who was torturing his child. There’s a broad spectrum.”

“So you don’t feel guilty about taking his life?” The way your stomach flipped at the mention of your actions merely hours ago should have worried you more than it did. 

“Of course I feel guilty.” You quipped back, and quickly looked around to make sure you didn’t disturb anyone else. Hotch didn’t even flinch. “I didn’t take this job to play God. I wanted to help people, I wanted to stop people from getting hurt. To be on the other side of the heartbreak.”

Before transferring to Quantico, you worked as a social worker in Brooklyn for three years, straight out of college. You saw first hand the horrors and trauma that came with being in the foster system, and you wanted to help children going through the same situation you had. 

This became your life, even after you escaped it. And one day, it became too much. You needed a fresh start, to make a change and help people from a different platform. And with your degree in English, and minor in psychology, the BAU seemed to be a perfect fit for a new career. 

“Why did you leave DCFS?” It irked you to no end how his voice stayed so calm when he was clearly agitated. Especially since the silky smooth tone had talked you off an emotional ledge one too many times.

“Why are you interrogating me? Strauss said it was a clean shot, that she was proud to have a man like that dead and accounted for.” A direct quote from the ever emotionless section chief. If only she had any field experience, she would understand what this job was like. “Besides, I’ve been here for a year and half. You should have my file memorized by now.”

“Half of your file is sealed. Strauss must have a soft spot for you.” You actually laughed at that. Strauss most certainly did not have a soft spot for you. She was however under orders from the Attorney General of New York to keep my file sealed, no matter my employer. 

“My sealed file has nothing to do with the actions I took tonight.” You uncrossed your legs now and turned your body to face him. This conversation wasn’t ending any time soon. “If I needed help grieving this process, I would ask for it, Hotch. I’m fine.”

He wanted to believe you. More than anything else, he wanted to believe that you had found a routine that helped you forget the daily horrors you saw. But he knew that you were the last to leave the office every night, he knew you drove home with the light on in the backseat of your car every night. Deep down, he knew you weren’t fine. 

“We don’t ever truly know the people we work with. Despite the fact that we say there are no secrets in this unit, we all have our own demons we hold onto. I know you’re not fine, y/n.” You let out a strained laugh as you started tapping your foot anxiously against the ground. 

“I do though.” For the first time tonight, Hotch had no idea what you were talking about. His furrowed brow only made your throat tighten. “I know every single one of these people’s secrets. They confide in me because they know about my past with DCFS. Everything I knew was confidential, and it ate me up inside not being able to tell anybody the horrors these children go through.” You ran a hand through your hair; the flood gates were open. You feared there would be no turning back now. “It started out as me just wanting to get to know them. I wanted to be liked, and I wanted to trust my coworkers. And then overnight, I became Father l/n, sworn to secrecy by the Parish of the FBI. I’ve become a suggestion box, papers filling me up to the top and no one is coming to empty me out. 

“But I can’t even be mad at them,” I said as my eyes started to water, remembering what Spencer said to me two months into our friendship. “Spencer told me I’m the only person that’s ever listened to his problems without suggesting that he see someone to talk to. He said I was the only person that’s ever laughed at his stuffy jokes without making fun of him. I can’t be mad at them for confiding in me in their time of need. But I’m just,” You tried to smile as a tear rolled down your cheek. “I’m just really overflowing.”

Aaron Hotchner was lucky enough to have never experienced a heartbreak in his life. He met Haley his junior year of high school, she was his first and only girlfriend, hurling him into a life of love and happiness, sparing him any pain from loving someone too much. But as he watched you break in front of him, feeling so overwhelmed by the responsibility to be everyone’s rock, to be everyone’s source of light, he experienced his first heartbreak. And he was sure he never wanted to feel it again.

“So confide in me.” You didn’t think his tone could become any softer. His baritone voice had already been strained to keep from waking the others, and he somehow became even softer. But you shook your head, quickly bringing your hands up to wipe the tears that fell down your face. “Why not?”

“Because you’re the boss. You have all of us to worry about when we’re in the field. You have Strauss breathing down your neck, waiting for one of us to screw up.” He rested his elbows on his knees, slightly leaning toward you. “Most importantly, you have Haley and Jack that need you to be their confidante. That beautiful family needs you to be there when you’re not here.”

“Y/n, if you can’t come talk to me when you’re drowning in your own thoughts, I’ve failed you as a boss.” He sighed at your continued silence. “I can’t force you to open up. But I can’t watch you give and give and give without earning a reprieve of your own.”

So the two of you sat there, in a deafening silence, as you counted the seconds passing by. You were both too stubborn to pull away first, because that would be admitting defeat, and this conversation would end then and there. You counted to one hundred and eighty seconds, three minutes, when you finally got tired of staring into the endless brown eyes of Aaron Hotchner. 

You thought carefully about what you were going to say, what you would reveal in the magic that covered the two a.m. air. And no matter how hard you tried to in those one hundred and eighty seconds, you could not keep your eyes from watering.

“I grew up in foster care.” You started, scanning his face for any judgements. You weren’t going to find any. “The last, and most permanent foster parents I had were horrible. It was basic shit that happened to every kid in foster care, nothing scandalous enough to get them to be turned in. But their birth son,” You swallowed, trying to resist the urge to pick your fingernails. “He moved back in with them when I was fifteen. He was a loser, and he started to take a share of the subsidy checks. I heard him in the living room one night with Charlotte, one of the younger girls that lived there. She was only twelve, and I found him pinning her to the couch, a knife to her throat. And I just snapped. I lunged at him, knocking him off of her. It’s all blurry now, except for when I stabbed him in the throat.” My hand scratched at the side of my neck, subconsciously finding the spot I stabbed him. “He died before the ambulance got there. Charlotte and I both gave statements, and it was ruled as self defense. But the statement still lives in my file, and with some convincing, I got Strauss and DCFS to keep it sealed.”

In all honesty, Hotch didn’t know what to expect when you decided to open your mouth. But he never would’ve guessed this. Not from the doe eyed kid that never forgot a birthday, that got everyone a donut and coffee on Monday mornings. Not from the kindest person he worked with. 

“You know that took a lot of courage to get out, so it would be nice if you could say something.” You started to panic, wondering if he saw you as a monster, as a killer.

“You were the oldest one there, weren’t you?” Your eyes widened, how did he know that? “You grew up quick and took on the role of the parent for those younger kids. You wanted them to be safe, stay innocent for as long as they could.”

You finally tore yourself away from his gaze, starting to become too strong. Baby steps. 

“None of us had a family. I tried my hardest to shelter them from those people and make a family out of the five of us. And it worked. Because all four of them still reach out and tell me how successful they are.”

“But they don’t feel like your family.” You had a sad smile and looked back up at him. 

“Do you ever stop profiling?” He mirrored the smile you gave him. “No, they don’t. But I was old enough to understand that they needed each other more than I needed them. Besides, I found a pretty weird family to take me in.”

You earned another laugh from Hotch as you made a check mark in the air, referencing the team tally. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, searching through the cash and cards he had in there. 

“What are you doing?” He pulled out a thin wallet picture and turned it over to you. It was of him, Haley, and Jack on his first birthday. “You’ve got more than one weird family to belong to.”

He extended the picture to you, but you shook your head, the anxiety forming a pit in your stomach. “Hotch, this is your family. I can’t,”

“You can. And this family wouldn’t be half as happy as they are in this picture if it weren’t for you and everyone on this team.” You smiled down at the picture, Jack had frosting from his birthday cake all over his face. You reached out and took it between your fingers. “You’re a giver, y/n. You wear your heart on your sleeve and exude more empathy than we know what to do with.” You let out a laugh as you pulled out your own wallet now, tucking the picture in one of the plastic sleeves. “It’s time you learned how to accept the love you give.”

It was deep, too deep to be coming from your boss on the private jet at two in the morning. But he was more than just your boss, and they were more than just your team. And this job, boy this job was so much better than sitting in a cubicle, answering questions from a recited list.

****

[metalheadkells]

ALSO here is a little corporate AU drabble because I’m not that excited by it but also should I write more? WHO KNOWS. 

“Excuse me?”

Marshall drags his eyes away from the glow of his laptop screen in the dimly lit block of cubicles to the source of the voice that had rudely shattered his concentration. The point of showing up to work at seven in the fucking morning was to give himself a couple of blissfully undisturbed hours to start his day before his coworkers started noisily piling in. He opens his mouth to express something along those lines to whoever it is that’s deigning to speak to him at this unacceptably early hour, but the words die on his tongue as soon as his eyes land on the offender. Standing in front of Marshall’s desk is a young man that he knows for a fact he hasn’t seen in the office before, because he’d definitely have remembered him. He towers over Marshall, a glossy black messenger bag clasped to his front like a shield, an unmistakable neck tattoo peeking over the crisp collar of his dress shirt, tiny black roses embroidered all over his charcoal-gray slacks. Who the fuck…? Marshall stares for a second, his eyes latching onto the guy’s ridiculous cheekbones and long eyelashes, before he snaps out of it and grumbles, “Modeling agency’s two floors down.” Pretty Boy seems confused by this, his forehead creasing as he says, “What? No, I… I’m not… I’m the new intern?” Marshall blinks. “Intern?” “Yeah? I’m gonna be working with the Sales team?” The way everything he says comes out sounding like a question is making Marshall’s eyelid twitch. “Paul said I could stop by his desk first thing,” he continues, “but I’m, uh, obviously super early.” This kid wants to work in Sales? This stammering, shy, unreasonably attractive - “There’s a dress code,” Marshall blurts out of nowhere, having also noticed the subtle silver hoops affixed to his ears. Pretty Boy raises his eyebrows. “I know?” “You’re violating it,” Marshall clarifies impatiently. “We’re pretty traditional around here. Those piercings aren’t gonna fly. And you need to do a better job of covering your tattoo.” Pretty Boy’s face falls, and Marshall almost takes pity on him. He looks young enough that this could be his first real job out of college - he’d probably had no idea what to expect. “You got a name?” “Call me Kells,” he says. “The fuck kinda name is that?” Marshall hadn't really meant to say that out loud, but oh well. That’s what you get when you try talking to him before 9 AM. Kells scowls at him, and the overall effect is… intense. Marshall smiles involuntarily, then glances back down at his laptop to hide it, wondering at the little spark of excitement shooting up his spine. “I’m Marshall,” he offers, scrolling aimlessly through the Excel pivot tables on his screen to appear busy. “And you think my name’s weird?” Marshall stops his scrolling, eyes flickering up to note the righteous indignation taking over the kid’s expression.

Ah. Maybe not as shy as I thought. 

“Senior Vice President of Sales,” Marshall finishes, just to watch Kells blanch as that revelation sinks in. “Oh fuck,” he murmurs, then presses a large palm to his mouth, his entire face turning red. “I’m - Sh-shouldn’t you have your own office? Sir?” “I do,” Marshall says, forcing himself not to grin like a loon, “but I like to work out here before the cavalry clocks in. One too many windows in my office.” Kells looks at him like he has a retort on the tip of his tongue, but is holding it back out of deference to Marshall’s seniority. It makes Marshall want to laugh. But laughing isn’t his thing. So instead, he asks, “And what’re you doing here so goddamn early? Were you planning to sit around doing nothing until someone showed up?” “Well, yeah,” Kells says, biting his lip. The motion shouldn’t be as distracting as it is. “I get… anxious. I was gonna kill time at some café or something until 9, but nothing around here’s open yet. So I figured I’d just come up.” “Hmm. You’re from LA, aren’t you. Or SF.” “No,” Kells splutters, like he’s offended by the notion, “I’m originally from Cleveland.” He pauses, then adds, “But I did just move here from LA.” “I knew it,” Marshall says smugly, “You have the look. And the presumptuousness.” Though I’m not compelled to murder you, so that’s a point in your favor. Once again, Kells looks like he’s holding his tongue, his eyes pained with the effort it must take. Marshall is gripped by an oddly strong urge to drag a feisty retort out of him. “Anyway, Paul gets in at 8:30. Find somewhere to sit and post your Snapchats and your Twits until then.” “You are so - ” Kells bursts out, then stops himself, steam practically coming out of his ears. Marshall turns an innocently questioning look on him. “Yes?” Then, Kells’ temperament shifts so immediately that it gives Marshall whiplash. “So generous, to have taken time out of your busy day to talk to me,” he says, sickly sweet, all earnest blue eyes and animated hands. “Thank you so much. I’ll get out of your way now, sir.” Marshall stares after him as he walks off without a backwards glance, thinking, Well-played, kid. His heart is thumping in this uncomfortably erratic rhythm that he knows can’t mean anything good. He whips out his phone and shoots off a text to Paul. This intern you hired??? He’s gonna be a distraction. We can’t have that. He adds: I can fire him for you. Take that off your plate. And a few seconds later: Well, maybe it’d be better to give him a test run first. See how the team likes him. It’s only fair. And half a minute after that: You need to tell him to do something about his face though. This isn’t some fucking froofy LA design firm that exclusively employs hot 20-somethings. And after he reads that last text over: Not that I’m calling him hot. Because that would be an inappropriate thing to say to the head of HR. And finally: I’m just saying he could play down his looks a little. Jesus, he walked in here dressed like a fucking Bloomingdale’s mannequin. By the time Paul texts him back, nearly half an hour later, with nothing but an ominous, oh no, Marshall is still recounting his interaction with Kells in his head moment by moment, his work entirely forgotten.

[thiswasinevitableid]

Hi there! If you're feeling it for mermay, I would like to request #9: folklore with OT4? No preference on rating: go with whatever feels best! Thank you so much and I hope you have a nice day!

Here you go! I went SFW on this one.

“You did what??” Dani stares at Barclay, shocked.

“I offered him a job. He needed work while he was here in town for his research, and he seemed nice, and, uh, and-”

“And attractive.” Indrid adds, turning to a new page in his sketchbook.

“Branchin out a little from your usual type, sugar.” Duck kisses his cheek.

“Barclay, he’s a folklorist. A folklorist who specifically studies selkies.”

“Yeah he, uh, he said so. I figured if he’s working for me, or even if he wants me to show him around, I can steer him away from all the selkies.”

“Except for the one showing him around.” Dani gives him a look only an older sister could give.

“It’s not like he’s gonna see me transform.” Barclay mutters.

The meeting ends much as it began; with everyone agreeing that the new guy in town was a potential threat and should be given absolutely no information whatsoever. It’s not that Barclay doesn’t see the man, who introduced himself as Joseph Stern, as someone after Keplers secrets. It’s more that the guy uprooted his entire life to come to an obscure, Alaskan bay in hopes of finding the thing he wants most in the world. Barclay sympathizes. 

Kepler is notorious among selkies; a safe haven, a place where there are humans who will protect them, help them, even love them. More than one enterprising selkie, trapped in a loveless marriage or unending servitude, has tricked the human who betrayed them into going north. It’s rare that a human who committed such a breach of trust remains there long; and they always give the pelt back, usually while packing their things in a desperate rush.

It’s a pity, then, that Barclay never got the man who tricked him up here.

He finishes the dinner rush at Amnesty Lodge, located on the edge of the bay and a welcome stop for travelers from land and water alike. As he usually does this time of night, he heads to a dock, far from the lights of town or the ships out at sea, and sits with his feet in the water, solitary and solemn. Tonight, he’s not alone for long. 

Silvery hair emerges from the water as Indrid, now sporting a lovely grey tail, swims over to him. They met when Barclay first came here, Indrid more than a little odd but appreciative of Barclays skill in the kitchen and bedroom in ways he’d been without for years. The gift of future vision meant Indrid was nomadic, in that he was determined to use his powers to prevent tragedy whenever he could, and so one day he swam away from Kepler.

Barclay didn’t see him for years. No one did. Until a ranger by the name of Duck Newton was helping tag seals that kept swimming too far up the salmon runs and got the shock of his life when the one he caught turned into a man as he was holding him. Indrid pointed out that his ear was already pierced and if they needed him to hunt somewhere else they could just ask. Duck who, in spite of living in Kepler for years, did not believe in the supernatural until he was holding it, offered the first apology that came to mind, which included inviting Indrid to dinner.

They’ve been dating for two years now.

Indrid rises from the water enough to rest his head in Barclay’s lap, “Come stay with us tonight.”

“I...do you really want me to?”

“If you do not, you spend all night brooding and unable to sleep, thus making for a miserable morning. Too, I am rather fond of your company.” Indrid tilts his chin up with a grin and Barclay leans down to kiss him, “and before you ask, yes, Duck remains fine with this. He says, and I quote ‘Barclay’s my friend and also if you’re hugging him I can escape bed long enough to get ready for work.”

He chuckles, “Okay, I’ll be over soon. I, uh, is there any chance-”

“No” Indrid shakes his head with a sigh, rubs his cheek against Barclays leg, “there are still no futures where we find your coat. Wherever that bastard sent it, he hid it well.”

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

Barclay’is in trouble; not only is Joseph a good cook, he’s good company too. He finishes his shifts sweaty and exhausted, same as Barclay, and the selkie wonders what it would be like to see him breathless and red faced in other contexts. He suspects he’s not the only one.

Joseph’s research regularly takes him into the national forest or the adjoining state park on the beach, meaning he’s routinely running into Duck. The ranger initially worried his inability to lie convincingly would be a problem. But after some cursory questions that Indrid saw coming and coached him through technically true responses to, he and Joseph have struck up a passing friendship. 

“Joseph is also very interested in his love life” Indrid reveals while swimming circles around Barclay as he stands in the cold water, “not that I blame him. He has excellent taste in men. Present company included.”

“He’s just being nice to me. And I’m practically his boss.”

Indrid pauses his swimming to stare at him, “Dearest, when he’s not working, what does he do?”

“Uh, crosswords? Or he reads, and he likes trying new restaurants and going to movies.”

“And you know all this how?”

“Because he does it near me or asks me to go with him. Oh, uh, huh. Maybe he does have a thing for me.”

Indrid floats into his arms, kisses him, “invite him to dinner. The others at the Lodge are, understandably, still wary of him and don’t want him around. But there’s no harm in him having over for a meal.”

Barclay pulls Indrid closer, tickles his cheek with his beard as he teases, “Seems like I’m not the only one with a crush on him.”

“Not in the slightest.” Indrid grins, “Our lives have not been easy. I don’t know about you, but I intend to embrace affection and love whenever the opportunity presents itself. “

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

There’s no way Joseph is passing up this opportunity. 

He’d been refilling his travel mug at the complementary coffee kiosk in the Lodge and asked if anyone happened to know which rivers had the most reported selkie sightings. After each blurting out a different answer, his fellow guests (tenants, really) decided on the Bluff Creek river as the best option.

He wonders if they know just how obvious it is that they’re hiding something. 

Joseph is well aware that folklorists are seen as credulous and gullible. He uses that to his advantage. There’s no reason for anyone to know about his seven years in the FBI prior to this. No reason for them to know he knows that Dani will propose to Aubrey soon, that Jake is sneaking out every night, that Barclay is searching for something as intensely as Joseph is. 

Most nights, he falls asleep under a burnt orange bedspread dreaming that he’s what the cook is looking for. 

Barclays feelings for him are one of the few things at Amnesty he can’t decipher. He offers him a job, takes a personal interest in his welfare, and makes him coffee just how he likes it. Every single morning. But he gets jittery when Joseph asks him about himself, and some days he outright hides from him until they’re in the kitchen. 

The dinners with Indrid and Duck aren’t helping his confusion. Barclay practically holds his hand during them, but turns pink whenever Indrid winks at him. And Duck…well, Joseph knows he’s good looking, and he’s never had a hard time hooking up while traveling. The rangers attention just makes him so hot under the collar he wants to strip down at the table. Which is why he can’t decide if Duck agreeing to be his guide on the river is a stroke of luck or a brilliant plan to keep him from noticing things they don’t want him to see. 

When Duck meets him at the dock, his casual outdoor clothes unfairly flattering (Indrid likes the uniform better, but Joseph finds it hides too much of Duck’s arms and chest), he decides there’s no point in looking a gift hunk in the mouth. 

They paddle upriver, trading bad, pun-based jokes until the wind picks up and drowns their voices out. It’s slow going, and there’s no sign of a selkie, but Duck remains excellent company. They make camp an hour before sunset, in a two man tent that leaves them smushed shoulder to shoulder. 

As they’re comparing notes on growing up trans in a small town, Joseph shares the story of the time he nearly broke his tailbone after slipping on a packer he left on the floor. Duck guffaws, shaking the tent as he does, and ends up giggling into Joseph’s shoulder as they both wipe tears from their eyes.

“You have a great laugh, you know that?”

“Sound like a bird of paradise gettin hit by an accordion.” Duck isn’t moving his head.

“That’s a remarkably accurate description, but my point stands.”

He feels Duck turn his head, “Joe? Would, uh, would it be okay if I kissed you? You can say no, swear I won’t abandon you or leave you for the bears so some shit. Just, uh, been thinkin about it all day and figured I’d ask.”

“It won’t upset Indrid?” He slides his hand from his sleeping bag to hold Duck’s own. 

“Nah. He and I talked about it. And, uh, his uh, his social circles ain’t super invested in monogamy.”

“Oh. Um” He wants to roll over, wants to pin Duck and kiss him until dawn. But if he does, it might mean he never gets a chance to do the same to a certain someone else, someone who he wishes would just tell him how he felt-

“If it, uh, helps any, happen to know Barclay sees things the same way ‘Drid does.” 

“In that case…” he crawls from the sleeping bag, Duck unzipping his own and kicking it open so there’s nothing to stop Joseph’s hands as they stroke and grope their way across his body, “I have a proposal for you.”

Unsurprisingly, they get a late start the next day. As Joseph is paddling, he spots a tail flipping out of the water, far too large to be an otter. Before he can say anything, the roar of the river changes, turning rougher and deeper.

“Fuck, the snowmelt must’ve started earlier than usual, these rapids normally ain’t this big.”

“Should we try to reverse?”

“Maybe we can, nope, fuck, okay we’re goin through whether we like it or not, try’n stay low and hold on.”

Duck’s excellent advice goes out the window at the same instant Joseph goes out of the boat, a swell catching him off guard. He hits a rock at just the wrong angle, pain shooting up his wrist as he releases his paddle. He’s not panicking, but the more he fights to keep his head up, the closer he gets. 

Then an arm is around his waist, pulling him to shore. He has just enough time to see his rescuer has a grey tail before they disappear under the water. There’s no sign of the boat or of Duck. A tremendous splash resolves one of those problems. 

“Duck!” He hurries to where the ranger coughs water onto the pebbles, “thank the lord.”

“Nah” he coughs again, “thank him.” He gestures weakly to the familiar face and torso now attached to a tail coated in silver-grey fur. 

“You’re a selkie.” Joseph scoots across the rocky ground. 

“Indeed.” Indrid taps his fingers together, “I, ah, I am sorry my love. I know we agreed he could not know, but when the timelines showed the rapids most of them involved you both going into the river and in, in many of them one or both of you was knocked unconscious on the stones and did not resurface. I could not let that happen to you. Either of you.”

Joseph reaches out reverently with his uninjured hand, and Indrid guides his tail to meet him. It’s exquisite to touch, and as he smooths his fingers along it, Indrid purrs and rolls onto his back. 

“Mmmm, already you are proving why it was worth it to save you.” Indrid grins, wiggling closer. 

“You, uh, you ain’t angry at us for hidin it from you?” Duck guides Indrid’s head into his lap, petting his hair, looking warily at Joseph.

“Duck, I’ve known you and the rest of the people at the Lodge were hiding things from me, and that given the towns reputation those things were probably related to selkies. It’s not like there aren’t dangers to people learning about selkies and where they live, and I never made it clear whether my research would lead to that. It hurts not to be trusted but, well, I’m used to it.” He looks down at where Indrid is nuzzling Duck’s belly, “I promise, I won’t put you or any of the others in danger.”

“Mmmm” Indrid’s tail relaxes under his hands, “apologies, I am listening, but it took a great deal of energy to reach you in time and pull you from the water. I think I shall nap until our ride comes.”

“Uh, think you’re gonna nap in the car.” Duck tilts his head towards the treeline, where the rumble of an engine rattles up the abandoned logging road. A minute later, a door slams and Barclay appears from the trees. 

“Fuck, he wasn’t kidding that you had rough time.” Barclay helps Joseph into the back seat while Indrid, now sporting legs, climbs into the front, “Duck, med kit is behind the drivers seat.”

“Great. Joe, c’mere, I can secure your wrist and get you some painkillers.”

“Right. Thanks.” He turns back to Barclay, eyebrow raised.

“Guess, uh, guess we have a lot to talk about later. I, uh, I should probably just tell you the big thing now. I’m uh, I’m like Indrid.”

Joseph smiles, “I guessed as much the moment Indrid revealed himself.”

“Oh.”

“Is there, um, anything else you want to tell me sooner rather than later?”

Barclay’s honey-rich baritone comes out as shy as a first kiss, “If you said you’d go out with me, it’d make my whole fucking year.”

Joseph murmurs in his ear, “The instant I’m out of the hospital, you’re taking me to dinner.”

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

There’s a sturdy hammock at the edge of Duck’s yard, overlooking the river. Joseph had no interest in it until he discovered it was the perfect size to have Barclay lay in so he could then lay on his chest. They’re in that configuration when he asks the question he’s been putting off for fear of upsetting his boyfriend. 

“How did you end up in Kepler? Were you born here?”

“No.” Barclay’s hands settle on his back, “I grew up off the coast of California. There was a guy, a human, we’d been friends since we were teenagers. As we got older he got, uh, he got it into his head that we could go on the road as like a, uh, a sideshow act. That people would pay big money to see a real selkie. I hated the fucking idea, told him to drop it, and he did, went back to being the considerate, cool guy he’d been when we met. He made a big dinner for my birthday, invited me over and…” his fists tighten in Joseph’s shirt, “and when I was there, he stole my coat.”

“Oh, Barclay” Joseph pets his chest, “I’m so sorry.”

“I agreed to work with him because I didn’t have a choice. I hated every goddamn minute of planning, of knowing he saw me as a fucking meal ticket. One night I snapped, told him to give me back my coat and let me go or I’d make him regret it. He locked me in the fucking basement, and when I got out, he told me he’d shipped my coat far, far away, and if I ever wanted to find it, I’d better stay with him. Asshole didn’t realize getting rid of the coat meant he didn’t have a hold on me anymore. I left, looked for it for years, then basically gave up and moved to Kepler because I knew there were other selkies here. Indrid’s convinced the pelt is here somewhere, keeps saying our finding it is just on the edges of his visions. But I dunno. I think it’s gone for good.”

Fear clings to his heart, “Will you get sick if you never find it? Are, are you sick now, or in pain?”

“No. Selkies don’t die or get sick without their pelts. It’s more like...like a part of you is missing, with this ache where it’s supposed to be. Mine’s been gone so long I barely notice it anymore.”

Joseph sits up, frowning, “You’re lying.”

“...Yeah. Yeah I am. But what else can I do?”

“Let me help. I’m an investigative professional, I have been for years, and I can’t think of a better use for those skills than finding your coat. Than, than making you happy and whole.”

Barclay studies him a moment, then yanks him down into a kiss, whimpering when Joseph nips his lips and licks between them. 

“Now, big guy,” he brushes their noses together, “what does it look like?”

“It’s the same color as my hair, with a crescent scar at the base of the tail from where a shark bit me. God, Joseph, I hope you see it some day, if you think Indrid’s tail is beautiful, and it is, mine is fucking gorgeous…”

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

“Joseph! How is my favorite connoisseur of cryptozoology today?”

“ I’m fine, Ned. And since I can see the dollar signs in your eyes from here yes, if you have new merchandise I would like to see it.”

Stationed on the highway at the edge of Kepler, the Cryptonomica is the kind of tourist trap Joseph can’t help but love. Even if the informational plaques contain miles of misinformation, it’s nice to be somewhere that doesn’t scoff at the supernatural or strange. 

As Ned rummages in the back, Joseph circles the room to arrive at his favorite display; Bigfoot, complete with a supposed “stuffed bigfoot” whose fur is so many different colors it looks like a patchwork quilt his grandmother kept on the couch. Not for the first time, he amuses himself with the observation that the back portion resembles Barclay’s hair. 

“Wait.” He says, loud enough that Ned’s assistant, Kirby, looks up from his desk.

“Something you need, Mr. Stern?” 

He kneels down, pulling his penlight from his jacket and peering at the creatures lower back.

“Yes. I need a knife, and I need it now.”

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

“Goodness!” Indrid yelps a moment before Joseph bursts through the door. 

“Barclay, Barclay look!” The researcher spins in a circle, searching for the cook.

“What is it, is everything okay?” He hurries out of the kitchen, then drops to his knees in shock, “it, it can’t be.”

“It is. Or, um, there’s a very strong chance it is. Look” He holds out the chestnut cloak, “the scar matches.”

“I, I, I-” Barclay grabs the pelt, holding it to his chest, “I must be dreaming.”

“There’s only one way to find out” Indrid grins as he pulls Duck up along with him, then tugs Barclay to his feet, “to the water!”

They’re moving so fast that Barclay only has a moment to swing the coat over his shoulders as he dives into the water, Joseph calling out to be careful. 

And then is heart thrums, whole for the first time in decades, as warm fur envelopes him. His second skin sings into his nerves, reunited with it’s home, and he let’s the transformation take it’s full form. When he leaps for joy out of the water, there’s not a human feature to be seen. 

Joseph cries out in triumph, Duck whooping out cheers along with him. There’s no sign of Indrid until he returns to the waves, at which point the most stunning silver seal twirls around him. The next time he rises from the water, he reverts to his half-form, savoring the sensation of moving it through the depths as Joseph and Duck wade in to join them. 

He pulls Joseph into a kiss, dipping him so his black hair fans out in the water, “You did it, babe.”

“I, I may as well quit all my other jobs, nothing else I accomplish in my life will compare to the look on your face right now.”

“Oh pet” Indrid smiles, “you’ve not seen anything yet. Did I say that right?”

“Close enough, sugar.”

“Come, dearest, I’ve been waiting for years to see if you can out-swim me.”

“You’re fucking on” Barclay kisses Joseph once more for good measure, “be right back.”

As he speeds through the water, Indrid keeping pace with him, he just makes out the conversation behind them. 

“You, uh, you know givin a selkie their pelt back is a marriage proposal, right?”

“Yes. But we can talk about that later, all four of us.”

[buckybeardreams]

Unwanted

Chapters: 9/11

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark

Characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Brock Rumlow, James "Bucky" Barnes, Clint Barton, Harley Keener

Additional Tags: Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alpha Steve Rogers, Omega Tony Stark, Service Top, Dominant Bottom, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Virgin Steve Rogers, Brock Rumlow is a Good Bro, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Romantic Soulmates, First Meetings, Angst with a Happy Ending, Sappy, Romantic Fluff, Awkwardness, Drinking to Cope, Self-Worth Issues, Insecure Tony Stark, Insecure Steve Rogers, Age Difference, Harley Keener is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Bonding, Claiming Bites, Claiming, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Non-Explicit Sex, Light Dom/sub, Mutual Masturbation, Coming Untouched, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Wordcount: 10.000-30.000, Knotting

Series: Part 1 of Second Chances

Summary:

Steve is a soft Alpha and Tony is an in charge kind of Omega with no desire to find a mate. He doesn't want to find his soulmate and when he does meet Steve he's determined to stay away from him. 

That is until he realizes just how right they are for each other.

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7 Ch 8 Ch 9 Ch 10 Ch 11

Can also be read here

Words: 1,612

"You're not unhappy that we bonded, right?"

Tony rolled his eyes.

"If I was I wouldn't be curled up in bed right now after letting you fuck my brains out."

Steve smirked.

"I think you were the one doing the fucking. I just laid there while you rode me."

"Yeah, but next time I'm gonna make you do all the work and I'm just gonna lay there and be the pillow princess. Let my Alpha take care of me," Tony said, his fingers trailing down Steve's chest and a sultry pout on his lips. "You'd do that for me, wouldn't you, Alpha?"

"You know I'd do anything to please you, baby."

"I know, because you're such a good boy," Tony murmured, kissing him. "Mm, as much as I'd love to stick around and let you fuck me on every surface in your apartment, I really have to get going or I'm gonna be late."

"I'll drive you," Steve offered.

"You're sweet, but no, I'm good. If I take you with me I'm just gonna end up fucking you in the break room and then the manager is gonna be an asshole about it."

Steve growled.

"I hate that guy more every time you talk about him."

Tony hummed, kissing him again.

"Yeah, well, I think most bosses disapprove of fucking in the employee's room. Even the not asshole ones.

"No, I don't mean that. We definitely can't do that, no matter how much I like the idea of you bossing me around at your work. I just think this Obie guy sounds like the worst and every time I've run into him just confirms that."

Tony didn't even try to disagree with that assessment.

"Like last week when he gave you shit for having to leave early because of your heat. There are laws in place to protect Omegas from being forced to work while in heat, but you practically had to beg him for the days off and then apologize for not being able to work and he still gave you shit about it. Then he had the audacity to act like he had done you some great favor and made you work extra shifts to make up for it. He didn't even pay you overtime, even though he made you work like sixty hours."

"Hey, hey, calm down. You're getting yourself all worked up about it and I don't want that. I appreciate your concern, I really do, and I love that you're so protective. Which is honestly something I never thought I'd say, but you need to take a deep breath. I've got it all under control."

Steve tried to take a deep breath, tried to calm down like his Omega told him to, but it didn't do much to alleviate his anger.

"I know, I'm sorry. I just wish you didn't have to deal with him."

"Well, I won't have to for much longer."

Steve frowned.

"What do you mean?"

Tony shifted on his lap, looking down at his lap nervously.

"Well, I was actually gonna tell you about this, but we've just been so caught up in our own little bubble and I didn't want to burst it by bringing up legal stuff. Besides, I almost forgot about it with all the newly mated hormones rushing through me," Tony rambled.

"Tony, love, just tell me."

"We tried to get Obie fired, but the owner, Alexander Pierce, was backing him, so we're taking him to court. They've been doing a whole bunch of shady stuff that's totally illegal, from paying people off to pass inspections and dealing drugs out back in the alley, to denying us health insurance, making us work overtime but not paying us overtime, and usually they make the Omegas work during heat. I think Obie only gave in this time, because he thought you might beat his ass if he called me in for work."

There was an amused smile on Tony's face, but he was looking at Steve, worried about his reaction. Steve was furious, but not at Tony. He knew that Obie was an asshole, but he had no idea just how bad it really was.

"Baby, I'm so sorry. I had no idea. I shouldn't have let you work for a guy like that. I'm your Alpha. I should have protected you, provided for you so you didn't have to work-"

"Hey, no, stop," Tony told him. "I love you so much, Alpha, but I don't want that. This was my battle to fight and I wasn't about to let you take that away from me. I've been dealing with this bullshit for years and now I'm finally changing things. You have to let me do this."

Steve felt awed by his little Omega. So much strength wrapped up in such a small little package it was unbelievable, and to think he was all Steve's. Steve kissed him, hard and lingering.

"I would never take that away from you, Tony. I wouldn't dream of doing something like that, pretty Omega."

A shy smile crept onto Tony's face and his cheeks turned pink.

"Thank you, Alpha. That means a lot, and I mean, there's no guarantee that the next person who buys the place will be any better than Pierce, or that they will hire us all on again. There's really no guarantee anybody will buy the place anytime soon. Realistically, it'll probably be bulldozed and turned into a parking lot for the diner next door or something like that. We all know that we're probably gonna lose our jobs, but it's worth it to do the right thing and put Pierce behind bars."

Steve nodded, licking his lips and considering how to say what he wanted to say in a way that wouldn't offend Tony.

"You know that I think you're so strong and I'm so proud of you for doing this, right?"

Tony bit his lip, nodding uncertainly.

He wasn't sure where Steve was going with this.

"I think it's amazing that you're gonna do this and that you want to do this and I'll support you in this in any way that I can," Steve told him earnestly. "I know that this is your fight, Tony, and I would never take that away from you, but if you'll let me, I'd love to fight alongside you."

Tony broke out in a grin, wrapping his arms around Steve's neck.

"Yes! Oh my God, yes!" Tony squealed. "Fuck, you scared me there. I thought you were gonna say something awful, but I should have known you'd just say something charming and perfect."

Steve blushed, but he was grinning too.

"Right, well, you see, the thing is Tony that I have a lot of money-"

Tony pulled back, raising a brow at him.

" You have a lot of money. You , the eighteen year old artist and former virgin until I seduced your ass Alpha, has a lot of money?" Tony asked him, clearly amused and not believing him one bit. "Tell me, pretty boy, what do you consider a lot of money? The twenty dollar allowance your mommy gives every Saturday?"

Steve glared at him, but there wasn't any heat in it. If anything he was just really embarrassed and really turned on.

"Sam helped me out a lot when I was a kid. He helped me turn my life around and he helped get my art into some galleries. He's got this friend, an ex of his, Pepper Potts. She's like a brilliant business woman and she runs her own company, but she also has a few major art galleries where she displays art from some of the most prominent artists in the states. I'm talking big shots, well known artists that make hundreds of thousands of dollars selling one painting."

Tony was just staring at him, like he was having a hard time figuring out if this was just some elaborate joke or not.

"Steve... what are you trying to say?"

"I'm saying that she saw some of my work, loved it, and put it up in her galleries. I've only sold a handful, but I've made a lot of money. Your bar is not that great, no offense, and I don't really spend much of my money other than for, like, rent and groceries, so there's a lot of it just sitting around. We could probably just buy the bar. That is if you want to be an owner of a bar."

Steve swallowed hard and fidgeted nervously with the bottom of Tony's shirt when he didn't respond. Tony was just shocked and pretty sure he was dreaming.

"I'm sorry, what? You're joking, right?" Tony said in disbelief. "Are you telling me that you have hundreds of thousands of dollars just lying around?"

Steve squirmed under Tony.

"I mean, not literally. It's all in the bank. Most of it's in my savings account since it earns more interest that way-"

"Shut up, I don't care about that," Tony said, cutting off his nervous rambling. "Are you for real? You have that kind of money and you'd be willing to let me buy a bar with it?"

Steve bit his lip.

"Yeah, I mean, Tony, I'd do anything for you. So if you want a bar then I'll buy you a bar. It's no big deal."

"No big deal? It's a huge deal!"

Steve wasn't sure if he was upset or excited, but then Tony was wrapping his arms around his neck and kissing him.

"Fuck, I love you so much. You know that, right?" Tony groaned against his lips.

Steve nodded, whimpering into his mouth when Tony kissed him again.

[bibislut]

A Girl Walks Into A Tower

After finding out her best friend is actually Spider Man, Leena's whole world changes. Enter: a meddlesome billionaire, some flirty super soldiers, and one (1) stubborn God of Mischief. Throw in a real need for better communication, a game of spin the bottle and a whole load of banter - and you'll have yourself a real good time at Stark Tower.

Also known as Loki is hella sexy, hella moody and really freakin' stubborn. Featuring: Peter Parker being the cutest, Sam Wilson being a cheeky bitch and a little bit of being a bad ass on the reader's part.

This work has explicit language, sexual content and some mentions of blood / violence, so please take this into consideration before reading!

Word Count: 19,260

Read on Ao3

Chapter 1

You couldn't help but close your eyes as you took the stairs up to your apartment by memory. You'd lived here for nearly a decade now, and the 9 flights' every creak and whine were ingrained in your memory by now, and the 10 hour shift you'd just done could be felt in every muscle: you couldn't help but rest your eyes for a moment.

You finally reached your landing and opened your eyes only to find Peter Parker dozing against your door frame, dried blood staining his skin from his hairline to his eye. The seventeen year old often came to you for a stitch up, not wanting to frighten his Aunt with his injuries. You frowned down at his snoring form and hitched your bag better on your shoulder, crouching down to place your hand on his cheek. "Peter." you whispered, not wanting to startle him. The teenager opened his eyes with a dopey smile.

"Hey, Lele."

"Hey idiot, let's get you inside." You couldn't help but return his warm smile as he shrugged off your attempt to help him up - you always forgot how strong he was. You pulled your keys from out of your pocket and opened the door. Dropping your bag to the floor, you flicked on the lights and shut the door behind Peter, watching him limp to your kitchen table.

"What happened this time?" you asked as you rolled up your sleeves and washed your hands. You reached for a flannel from the bottom drawer and ran it under the hot water.

"Just some kids from school."

Even though you couldn't see his face, you knew the teenager would be picking at his lips like he did every time he lied. You knew he'd never tell you what really went on before he turned up to your apartment - he never did. You rung out the cloth.

"I swear to God Peter, if I come home one day to find you dead on my doorstep, I will resurrect you just to kill you myself." You couldn't help the motherly tone that clipped your words, despite only having a few years on the boy. Peter winced both at your words and at the pressure you applied as you wiped away the blood. As you cleaned the wound, you were relieved to see that it wouldn't need stitches, but there was a good chance it would scar. You frowned.

"I know, I know! I'm sorry Leena..." He surged forwards to wrap you in a tight hug and you sighed into his hair. You'd known him since he was 6 and you were practically family now. His uncle and your dad had died the same year, your mom joining them a few years ago. You'd always looked after each other, silently vowing protection over the other with each funeral attended. A loud banging at the door pulled you both apart, and you looked at each other in silence as you went to the drawers and pulled out your handgun, Peter walking into the shadows as was protocol (though you had never had to follow it before).

You were a good shot, but Peter was much more quiet and agile - a surprise attack suited him well. You don't know when you'd both become so jumpy, perhaps it was when Aliens began ransacking the city in 2012, or when the murders on the news became more frequent, or when... It didn't really matter. The world was a shit storm, and you'd let hell freeze over before you let anyone you loved get hurt because you weren't prepared.

You looked through the peephole to see someone you most certainly would not have expected. You turned to whisper to the shadows where you knew Peter was. "It's Tony Stark!" Peter emerged quickly, pushing you out of the way to unlatch the door, leaving you gaping like a fish.

"Hey, Mr Stark!" He threw himself at the billionaire, wrapping his arms around him. The businessman-turned-superhero patted the boy's back. The dirt that covered Peter smeared across the obviously expensive navy suit, but neither seemed to care.

"Good to see you alive, kid. Friday said you had some injuries and when I looked on your suit tracker you weren't in your apartment." He pulled Peter back to stare at him sternly. "Care to explain?" You looked at the two of them in shock. Since when had Peter met Tony Stark? And since when had they become so obviously close? The worry etched across the philanthropist's face certainly seemed genuine enough.

Peter turned to look at you anxiously. "I was with Leena, I stopped a robbery a couple blocks away, but they must have got me because I was bleeding, so I came here. She does a great job of cleaning me up, and I didn't want to scare Aunt May, you know how she wo-" he babbled, looking between the two of you, but stopped as Tony made a 'zip it' motion. You frowned at Peter's words; since when did he stop robberies? You put the gun you forgot you had been holding in the waist pants of your jeans and stepped forwards, offering your hand, which was far steadier than you expected.

"I'm Leena, I've known Peter since we were kids."

Tony shakes your hand firmly. "Nice to meet you, Tony Stark." You look between the two of them as awkward silence begins to fill the air. You turn to gesture towards your apartment.

"Would you like to come in?" That was what you were supposed to do, right? Offer hospitality? You shook your head quickly to yourself. What the hell was going on?

You lead the way for the two guys, but put a hand on Peter's chest. "Go wash your hands before I catch you putting dirt in the wound I just cleaned." He offers you a salute as he turns down the corridor.

You make your way back to the kitchen to find Mr Stark lounging at the table in the spot where Peter had sat. "Tea or Coffee?" you ask. You wonder for a moment if the month old dollar brew in your cupboard is even worth offering.

"Coffee, black, one sugar." He offers you a thankful smile. You turn around and pull out three mugs, one tea, one coffee and one hot chocolate for Peter. "I bet cleaning up Mr Friendly-Neighborhood-Spider-Boy gets a bit tiring." The billionaire offers as a replacement for the silence. You stiffen, turning to stare at him.

"What?"

He curses under his breath “He didn't tell you?" The business mogul suddenly looks panicked - a glaring contrast to the confident man you'd seen on TV.

You snap your neck to look at the now-frozen Peter Parker standing in the doorway, a sheepish smile on his face.

"What the flying fuck, Peter?!"

***************

You woke the next day at noon, not as rested as you'd hoped after you'd spent most of last night arguing with Peter. You had to admit you were proud of him, and it did make a lot of sense now that you thought about it. His constant 'fights at school', how light on his feet he was, how agile, how strong he was. You were kind of pissed that you hadn't figured it out before to be honest. You had had a hard time believing it all, but once Peter pulled his suit from his stash behind the couch, you didn't really have a choice but to accept the truth. Tony Stark had also been quite nice to talk to, and the way he treated Peter as his own was so great to see. He'd always needed a father figure. Tony had watched the two of you with rapt interest, seemingly pleased to meet someone so close to Peter. After a while Peter fell asleep on the couch, his head on your shoulder and you and Tony had mouthed your goodbyes. He'd woken up about an hour later and you gave him a hug as he climbed through your window to sneak back to his own apartment.

You sat up and stretched, stifling a yawn as you padded down the hall to the kitchen. A big yellow envelope hung from your letter box and you grabbed it curiously.

EVICTION NOTICE!

"Shit!" You cursed loudly, tearing it open. You knew the landlord was a slimy bastard, but you couldn't believe he was kicking you out. He was a selfish layabout and owned a few of the apartments in the building, yours being the nicest and largest. Knowing him, he probably wanted it so he could move in with his new girlfriend. Of course, he didn't say that in the notice, only that you had two weeks to pack your things and go.

*****

You'd spent the whole day at work lost in your thoughts, barely noticing the caffeine crazed customers around you.You didn't have enough saved to move anywhere decent, yet alone pay the first month's rent upfront as most landlords wanted. You couldn't move in with family - they were all dead or on the other side of the country. You didn't really have any close friends, only your work colleagues. That left Peter's place - but you knew they didn't have a spare room and you certainly couldn't squish everything you had into their living room.

You were still racking your brains by the time the last customer left the coffee shop at 9.55PM, and you hurried to wash their cup and sweep up, locking up and leaving. You trudged through the bitter cold of late-October the five blocks back to your building, bumping into the spider-boy himself in the foyer. You began walking up the stairs together, but found Peter frowning at you as you realized he'd asked you a question. You blinked at him.

"What?"

"You alright Lele? You seem distracted."

You pushed your hair out of your face with a grimace. "I'm being evicted."

It was Peter's turn to blink at you. "What?"

"That bozo, Ethan, is kicking me out." You tried to keep the childlike petulance out of your voice but failed miserably.

"Oh, shit. What are you gonna do?" You hated to be the reason for Peter's worried expression.

"I don't know. I'll figure something out though Pete, I always do." You kissed him on the cheek and patted him on the arm as you reached your perspective doors. "Goodnight, Pete."

Friday was usually games night, but he seemed to understand your lack of excitement without you having to explain. You threw him a grateful look and went your separate ways.

Read the rest on Ao3

[deans-baby-momma]

Wounded Hearts 18

Spring 2004  Dean’s POV

After meeting up with Dad, who was still with the Sheriff, we head toward the car as I tell him about the suggestion Melonie gave me. 

“I could use one of those,” Dad says with a smile as we head in the direction of the drive-in. Pulling in I can’t help but smile as I see the very girl who recommended this place, her blue and white uniform crisp and clean in the sunlight. 

Melonie walks up to the driver’s side window as Dad rolls it down and begins her spiel. “Welcome to the Pinnacle- oh hey. I see you found it.” she says as she notices me in the passenger seat.

“Yea. We are interested in those melt-in-your-mouth burgers.”

“Okay sure,” she says as she takes her pad out and jots it down. “Want something to drink also? We got any type of soda you can think of or tea or water.”

“Give us two Cokes darlin’,” Dad tells her. Melonie nods as she writes down the order and then walks away.

“So, that’s who told you about this place?” Dad asks, a big grin on his face as he looks at me. “I think maybe it’s not only the food you’re interested in here.”

I roll my eyes as he wiggles his eyebrows and chuckles. “Listen, I am pretty sure I know what is going on here. I can take care of it if you want to….ya know, sample to local cuisine.”

“It is so weird hearing you talk like that,” I say with my own chuckle. “But no, She just got to work so it’ll be hours before she’d have any free time. And besides, who says she is even interested?”

Melonie delivers our food and we thank her. I watch as she turns and walks to the next car to take their orders. She gives off the impression of someone happy and well put together and, well…..those are not the kind of girls that usually go for guys like me. She also seems like the kind of person I could find myself falling for and that’s just not possible. 

We’d be gone in a few days and anyways, my heart is unavailable. 

I take a bite of the burger and moan around the mouthful of food. The flavors all sync so smoothly that it just melts in your mouth. Melonie didn’t lie about that. I chuckle when Dad has the same reaction after his first bite. 

Melonie comes back to the Impala a few times to check if we need anything and when Dad asks for the check I can see the disappointment on her face but she quickly masks it with her usually jovial self. 

“Okay," Dad says after paying for the meal. “It’s almost 3 now. If we get back to the motel and go over the information from Sheriff Aliff, we should be able to take these bastards out and you can get back here before her shift’s over. You said she apparently walked to work? So, offer to walk her home?”

When she returns with our change and receipt, Dad questions her about what time her shift ends and does the ‘dirty work’ for me.

“My partner here will be back at 9 to make sure you get home safe and sound.”

Melonie smiles at me and nods then turns to get back to work as Dad pulls the Impala back out onto the road. Dad tells me he's pretty much got the case figured out. He explains the monster is a bakakku. They are cave-dwellers who feed off the brains of other beings. Dad is fairly certain that there is only one bakakku holed up in a closed down mine near Pineville.

"But if there are multiple bakakku, you don't need to be going in alone," I counter. "Do you even know how to kill it?"

"No. So until your lady friend's shift is over, you and I are going to research and try to find more information," he tells me. "Then while you are making sure she gets home safely, I'll take care of the bakakku and be back at the motel when you return. Be it late tonight, in the morning, mid-day, whenever."

Dad chuckles at his own quip while I roll my eyes.

To hear my dad talk and encourage me to hook up with some rando girl in some rando town for the night is just weird.

"Listen son," he begins as he senses my awkwardness. "Ain't nothing wrong with getting your jollies where you can. Believe me, I know. You may not want to hear this but this job….it's lonely and bleak. Yea we save people but hardly ever get a thank you. So you get your reward other ways. 

"I have been known to seek out those 'rewards' and you know, it's nice. You don't have to worry about anyone catching feelings because if they do-" he shrugs as he continues. "-you're already gone."

"You've…..you have slept with other women?" I am astonished at what my father just admitted. "You cheated on Mom?"

"No Dean!" he demands. "I loved your mom with everything in me but she is gone son. I hate to say it as much as you hate to hear it but I am a man and sometimes I just need to get my dick wet, okay? It's not cheating. My wife is dead."

By the time it's close to the end of Melonie's shift, we have concluded how to take out the bakakku and readied the weapon needed. Dad drops me off at the drive-in and proceeds to the mines. 

Leaning against the building, I watch as Melonie finishes up with the last two customers before she walks over.

"I just have to close out my till and make the drop in the safe then I'll be ready."

"Take your time," I tell her with a smile. She returns it and then tiptoes to kiss me. 

When her lips touch mine, all reserves are gone. Tonight, I will do as Dad suggested and enjoy the rewarding benefits of the job of hunting things and saving people.  And watching Melonie walk away, I absolutely cannot wait!

Rebecca’s POV  Winter 2003

“He was the epitome of bad boys,” I chuckle as I settle down on the sofa later that night with Sam. He had asked me to tell him more about Whitney’s dad and we waited until the little girl was in bed for the night before getting into it. “Cocky, confident and egotistical. He was handsome as the devil and he knew it. He sauntered around the school like he owned it. He-” I pause to take a drink of my soda. “-actually announced to the school that he was a hero; whatever the hell that meant.”

“A hero? What had he done to think that?” Sam asks, with a chuckle.

“You got me. But, this was also right after he got caught in the janitor’s closet with Krissy Stephens…...by Amanda Heckerling, who just happened to be his girlfriend at the time,” I tell Sam.

“Whoa. He was a playa, huh? How the hell did you get tangled up with him? I mean, you seem so practical and sophisticated.”

I can’t help but laugh. “I so wasn’t back then. No, I was the nerd; the girl who kept her nose in her books and didn’t socialize with anyone. I was shy and bashful. All I wanted was to get through those four years of hell and go off to college. Well we see how that worked out, eh?”

“You wanted to go to college? For what?” Sam inquired, seemingly interested. 

“Psychology. I wanted to be a psychologist. But things changed. Dean happened.”

“So what, did he break up with Amanda and chase after you?”

“Um, no. After catching him in that closet with Krissy, Amanda dumped him in front of everyone; the whole school. Then a couple days later, he literally runs into me,” I stop as I remember the day vividly. “Practically bowled me over. He apologized and then invited me to have pizza with him, even going so far as making sure his little brother was there. They were staying at the Pines Motel and we sat and ate pizza and watched All Saints Day.”

“So wait,” Sam interrupts. “These two boys-kids- were staying in a motel. Where were their parents?”

“I don’t know,” I shrug as I answer. “I never asked. At least I don’t remember if I did. Either way, it was just Dean and Sam in the motel room. After the movie was over, Sam was begging to go to the arcade and I gave him money for some games. I didn’t realize until after he left that Dean and I were alone. And well you know what happened. She-” I point toward Whitney’s room. “-is proof of that.”

“So what happened next?”

“The next day, I saw him in 1st period but after that he vanished. I never saw him again. I found out from the motel manager that they had packed up and taken off in a black muscle car.”  

“Oh wow!” Sam says, stunned. “So he just humped and dumped you? I’m sorry that was inconsiderate.”

“No, you’re right. That’s exactly what happened,” I say with a chuckle. “I hated him too. After I found out I was pregnant, I wished death upon him. But then she was born and she looks so much like him, that it softened my hatred and I realized that I still have feelings for him.”

“Wow, Becky. Just…...wow!”

“I know. So here I am 8 years later, still kind of hung up on the boy that ran away.”

“I’m sorry Becky,” Sam says, dolefully. “If it makes you feel any better, Dean is a giant douche and doesn’t know what he’s missing. He has a beautiful daughter and her Mom isn’t that bad either.” Sam smiles at me.

“Isn’t that bad? Are you saying I’m not drop dead gorgeous Sam? My heart is broken,” I jest, chuckling.

“God no. Becky, I think you are beautiful, gorgeous, hot! But I didn’t want to seem like I was trying to come on to you. Like after spending the day with you I suddenly wanted to have a relationship,” he begins justifying until he realizes I’m joking. “Shut up!” he says with a laugh as he reaches out and pushes my shoulder.

@tftumblin @spnbaby-67 @markofdean79 @lostinaseaoffictionalbliss @travelingriversideblues-x @akshi8278 @keymology @hoboal87 @squirrelnotsam @natura1phenomenon @drakelover78 @larajadeschmidt13 @blacktithe7 @atc74 @sea040561 @delightfullykrispypeach @vicariouslythruspn @sandlee44 @mogaruke @deanwanddamons @supraveng @deandreamernp @lyarr24​

[liamscxtt]

a day in the life ; self para

when: thursday, august 28th

where: literally everywhere

nb: just a brief (long) narrative of what the typical day looks like for liam.

trigger warnings: homelessness, death and drug mentions, drug abuse

5:00am

there’s a moment when you first wake up when everything is just a haze. a moment when you forget who you are, what day it is -- all of your problems just don’t exist, for that moment. the moment only lasted a few seconds before the blaring sound of the alarms coming from the phone bring you back to the brutal aspects of reality. and yet, those were the best five seconds for liam.

groaning, he turned over and tapped on his screen, desperately trying to shut the alarm off; the bright screen burning his already sleep deprived eyes. he probably only got about three hours of sleep, if that. he was used to it at this point, and then there were days like today. days where he wanted to wither into the depths of his own self-loathing. 

he looked out the window to see the sun beginning to rise. a sky painted with shades of blues, purples, and oranges, almost like a messy yet somewhat neatly put together painting made by a middle schooler. there was something beautiful about waking up with the sun, parts of it that brought him peace. his sister loved watching the sunrise - she always went on and on about how sunrises were the true underdog; how mother nature picked it’s most beautiful mixture of colors for the sunrises, all because it took a special person to appreciate the beauty that came from it. he never really understood what she meant, until he was forced to watch the sun rise every single morning. and as always, she was right. sunsets had nothing against sunrises. 

these quiet mornings were the best part of liam’s day. the hours where he felt most connected to his sister and to himself. the hours he felt truly at peace. it was crazy to think that liam’s favorite time of the day was between 5:00am and 6:30am. 

he turned on his car to play youtube on his aux before climbing out of his vehicle. the sweet melody’s of the soft pitched tunes filled his car and the immediate area surrounding it, and a smile creeped on his face as one of her favorite songs began playing in the background. he wasn’t religious, but there was a part of him that truly found strength in knowing that his sister wasn’t far away. 

he rolled up the worn down mattress topper, collected his pillow and blanket in one hand. he broke down his bed as he pushed the backseat of his 2006 ford escape upright and neatly tucked his belongings into his trunk. 

5:30am

he pulled into the vacant parking lot of the soulstice gym. the gym was set to open in a half hour; luckily for him, there weren’t many college students that would dare to wake up at the crack of dawn just to work out. he stuffed everything he needed to get ready for the day into a duffle bag; shower supplies, and a clean outfit. he desperately needed to do laundry, and he needed to get food...but pay day wasn’t until next week. he was gonna have to find cash, and find it quick - maybe he’ll just pick up another shift at the bar. he practically lived at that place now.

his footsteps echoed through as he walked through the empty fitness center; not even the cleaners had arrived for their early morning shift. he quickly hopped into the showers and get ready for the day. lord knows he needed to wash the dirt and sins that painted his skin from the previous nights festivities. he couldn’t even recall what exactly happened, and that was both a blessing and a curse. it was shortly after he turned on all the lights and greeted the early morning cleaners, jimmy and george. 

“good morning, son!” greeted george. 

“mornin’, will.” jimmy greeted shortly after. 

jimmy and george worked closely together, and were usually gone for the day 2pm; and yet, liam knew the guys quite well. 

jimmy is in his early-forties, married with two children. he worked two full time jobs to get his children through school. his son played division II baseball at a school somewhere in the midwest, and is majoring in sports education. he wants to be a gym teacher. his daughter is studying to be a nurse at monarch. she aspires to work in women’s health. jimmy always spoke so highly of them two. 

george is in his mid-sixties, but is still kicking it like he’s twenty. he’s also married with children and even grandchildren, but his story is more tragic. he’s a retired firefighter, who is still working a full time job because his pension wasn’t enough to make ends meet. can’t make ends meet. his only daughter passed away at a young age - drug overdose, he says. his only son is constantly in and out of jail for drug charges - leaving george and his wife to take care and raise their two grandchildren, layla and michael. layla is 14 and is getting ready to start high school. she loves to play volleyball, and apparently is a natural. michael is 9 and is getting ready to start fourth grade. he love cars, spider man, legos, sonic, and baseball cards. he wants to be a youtube gamer when he grows up. liam didn’t know the kid, but he thought he was fucking awesome. 

two completely different stories, and yet liam believed that those two men deserved the world and then some.

“what’s up, guys?” liam greeted with a smile as he filled up his metal water bottle at the nearest filling station. “when are the kids set to go back, george?”

“this coming monday. mikey’s already complaining how he doesn’t need school to be a youtuber. apparently he’s ‘done his research’.” the comment makes both liam and jimmy laugh. 

“tell the little man to put that energy into a sport, or a trade. i need a new mechanic.” jim jested, once again causing the other two to laugh. “what about you, will? getting ready to start the semester back up? gabby is already stressing because some of her professors already posted the syllabus.” 

“shit, i haven’t even gotten my textbooks yet. i might have to join mikey with this whole youtuber plan and hope for the best.” liam said with a nervous chuckle. he almost had completely forgotten about the upcoming semester approaching. 

to quickly divert the question away from him, he spoke once more. “say, george. i found a few baseball cards at the bar the other night. remind me to bring them in for you.” 

“you’ll make that boys entire week. maybe i’ll use that to bribe him to go to school.” 

jimmy just smiled. “you’re a good kid, scotty boy. never change.” 

2:30pm

it had only been a half hour since liam clocked out from his morning job, and he quickly made his way over to the library. the mention of school that morning brought liam into a panic. he grabbed a spot at one of desks in the computer station, powering on the device and pulling out his notebook. luckily enough, most of the textbooks he needed the library had available. leaving his stuff behind, he went to go fetched them. 

he already had mastered the technique of not having his own textbooks. every week, he would go and scan all of the chapters he needed for each and every class. luckily, monarch offered free scanning and printing. he made small talk with the librarian that sat at the desk nearby as he printed out at least three weeks worth of chapters for each of his classes. 

he sat down once more, and took the time to put the pile of papers neatly into his binder. it was time to start planning. 

6:30pm

now it was time to work his night time job, mars bar. he was working with adrian tonight, so he knew it wouldn’t be that bad.

his stomach had been grumbling half way through his shift. he hadn’t eaten anything all day. but he continued to push through. he had to, at least until pay day. he continued to chug water; if his stomach was full of water, his body didn’t have time to remind him that it needed some sort of nutrients. he was a master manipulator when it came to his own body now. 

1:00am

the rounded out the tips that he received from his customers. it was a good night, and luckily enough he would be able to do laundry the next day. his body was tired, though; aching from the lack of sleep and abuse his body endured from the festivities. he felt like he could sleep for an entire month, and then some. 

he drove around for a bit after his shift, a thing he did as he needed to both unwind and find a somewhat safe space to park his car. university police were patrolling the parking lots that night, which immediately told him not to park there. he couldn’t park in greek row - too many people he knew by this point. he was left to park in a nearby park, in a nearby neighborhood. he found himself saying a small prayer that nobody would mess with him that night. 

he lit up a joint once he found his place, feeling the smoke fill his lungs as he listened to the calming music that played on the radio. ed sheeran was playing, a song from his multiply album. it was one of his and his sister’s favorite albums. that’s the one thing they shared in common, their taste in music. but she was more pop in a sense, and he was more edgy. but still, the music brought him comfort.

he got his bed ready; a mattress topper, paired with a pillow and a blanket. he made himself comfortable and looked at his phone, just to see he missed a text from his mother at 10:45pm.

hi honey! spoke with your aunt today, and we’re making plans for christmas. did your father reach out to you? let me know what plans he has set. i’ll arrange my trip around your plans. 

i hope you had a great day! i love you! ❤️

her message was followed by a bitmoji image of her holding a huge heart. and he smiled. 

i haven’t spoken to him all week, but i’ll reach out tomorrow and let you know. i’ll call you tomorrow. love you ❤️

there was a huge part of him that wanted to call her now, that wanted to tell her he had been struggling both physically and mentally...but then he remembered the damage and the financial burden his injury left. it ruined his family. he ruined his family. and just as he was about to press call, he let out a frustrated sigh before locking his phone and tossing it not too far away from him, rolling over to attempt to get some sort of rest.

just to do the same thing. all. over. again.

[everlarkficexchange]

Everlark Fic Exchange: Masterlist

 Springtime Edition (2020).

The King's Mistress by @eiramrelyat

Prompt 9: Katniss is a commoner and peeta is a cruel king. He wants katniss to be his mistress. How will they fall in love is up to you. [submitted by anonymous] 

Stay with Me Just for Now by @booksrockmyface

Prompt 10: katniss and peeta are best friends who were in a friends w benefits arrangement in the past. now the hunger for each other is coming back. [submitted by anonymous] 

A Quiet Announcement by @albinokittens300​

Prompt 11: in panem au where everlark isn’t reaped and peeta knocks up katniss. [submitted by @sunflowerslyf] 

Prompt #12: by @endlessnightlock

Prompt 12: katniss walks out of the fitting room wearing only a bikini to ask her friend if it suits her but it isnt her friend at the other side of the door but peeta. [submitted by anonymous] 

When You Were Mine by @pitualba2015

Prompt 20: Peeta is the CEO and katniss is his secretary. They have an affair and katniss gets pregnant but when she tells peeta he doesn’t believe her and accuse her of trying to trap him. What will he do when he realize his mistake and how will he win katniss back. [submitted by anonymous] 

Two Households by @everlarkandhistory

Prompt 22: Set in early 20th century. Katniss and Peeta are from two rival families who have been enemies since forever. They have a chance meeting which led to them falling in love. They are completely unaware of their identity. Will their love survive or will their relationship crumble. [submitted by @mysteriouslycraftyreview]

Operation: BREAD (Bring Revenge on Everdeen to Avenge Dad) by @alliswell21

Prompt 23: Rumor: MrEverdeen crossed fence dividing Town and Seam, kidnapped Mrs Everdeen making her his commonlaw wife. Years later, Mellark sons plan to avenge their father by raiding Seam and kidnapping one of Everdeens daughters for one of them to take as a wife! Does Katniss “volunteer,” does she escape, how do the 3 brothers decide what to do with her since they didn’t plan it all out well? [submitted by @567inpanem] 

lying in the bed we made (if it wasn't us) by @archersandsunsets

Prompt 26: the night before the Quarter Quell, in the sleepless dark, Katniss and Peeta allow themselves to indulge in the bittersweet dream of a future they’ll never have together (“if it wasn’t us, what would you do?” “I’d want to marry you” “tell me”) [submitted by @rosegardeninwinter]

The Proper Response by @madetofly

Prompt 29: Post-MJ, Growing Together. Peeta is finally showing his affection and love for Katniss as they heal and reconnect. Katniss, being Katniss, seems to act like she doesn’t appreciate this, and is less than enthused. Peeta, taking this like an adult, stops showing her with the affection and tries to show her his love in other ways. Katniss, however, does not appreciate him stopping those things and set out to try and get him to continue it again because she misses it. [submitted by @albinokittens300] 

All the World's a Stage by @katnissdoesnotfollowback

Prompt 31: “We never see you two so much as kiss in public but last night we all heard you having sex.” Submitted by Buttercupbadass

Misconceptions by @awkwardeverlark

Prompt 35: No reaping AU. At 19, Katniss considers marrying Gale for practical reasons; the fact she just heard the baker’s son toasted and was assigned a house at the edge of town has nothing to do with it... maybe. What happens next? (was Peeta really married or was it his brother? Does she marry Gale? Does Everlark ever talk? Will Peeta cheat if he’s actually married? Can Katniss admit she loves the Boy with the Bread? Is this forbidden love?) is up to you. [submitted by anonymous] 

No One's Gonna Need You More by @ambpersand 

Prompt 36: Frustrated and stressed out Single dad!Peeta needs a fuck desperately. His best friend, Katniss, unwittingly offers to help him out. Things get murky with repressed feelings, but one thing’s certain, Peeta can’t keep his hands to himself anymore and Katniss is all too willing to oblige at the drop of a hat, regardless of place, time and her own emotions, as long as he keeps whispering all his sexy, filthy thoughts into her ear. [submitted by anonymous] 

Vidua by @darkhorse-javert

Prompt 44: Believing that taking a new young bride every 5 years will keep him youthful, Snow arranges to marry wife #12 from D12. In the hours between the ceremony and the wedding night, he drops dead. 16-yr-old Katniss returns to 12 but now she’s “Widow Snow.” Can she ever be Katniss, district huntress again? With all that $, wedding gifts, etc that were sent on the train with her? [submitted by @567inpanem] 

Fortune Favors the Brave by @ambpersand

Prompt 46: Pacific Rim inspired AU with drift compatible Everlark (or not if you’re inspired by angst). I really just want to see more of that aspect of Pacific Rim explored than what they did in the movie and what better way to do it than with Everlark! [submitted by @katnissdoesnotfollowback] 

Fate Takes a Break by @ally147writes

Prompt 50: everlark discovering on their date that they've missed each other their whole lives (living in the same city, went to the same high school, going to the same halloween and nye parties, were set up before by different friends but stood each other up, shopping at the same store, etc.) [submitted by @sunflowerslyf] 

I Choose You by @wendywobbles

Prompt 51: Katniss E, the Valedictorian of Panem High school, is perfect in all fields of life. And that is the crush of awkward, average in studies, not so popular, never had a girlfriend, often bullied Peeta M. Not only does she have a very popular friend circle but also a handsome, popular boyfriend Gale H. Will she even want to be his friend? Is his crush doomed to fail? Eventual Everlark. [submitted by @white-dandelion-seeds] 

The Change by @alliswell21

Prompt 59: Growing up Peeta started loving her. It was a gradual thing that happened throughout his childhood and into his teens. But something changes when he hits puberty. Her scent has heightened, he can spot her from miles away. He gets a bit possessive. But the biggest thing is when his body starts to heat up and even just the thought of you gets him hard for days. He finds out the family secret of his werewolf genes, something his parents thought passed him. How can he go by with his day and be with her without scaring her away by humping her because of his heat. [submitted by @animekpopxx]

By The Moonlight Side by @endlessnightlock

Chapter 2

Prompt 61: Peeta knew better, but he did stupid things when he got drunk. Now he’s caged at the animal shelter in his wolf form. And, omg, Katniss Everdeen let her little sister drag her in to see the dogs?! He knows he shouldn’t, but teen hormones. He just wants to lick her hand. Get a tummy rub. Hump her leg. Sleep on her bed. Omg, they take him home!!!! He needs to let his dad know where he is. Omg. He needs to figure out his bakery shift. “God, don’t let Katniss catch me licking my balls.” [submitted by @567inpanem]

Maybe Tomorrow by @katnissdoesnotfollowback​

Prompt 62: one night stand!everlark sleeping together the same night a terrible snowstorm hits the city and everything gets shut down with no way to get home. perhaps a two night stand? [submitted by anonymous] 

Genesis  by @rosegardeninwinter

Prompt 66: Everlark post apocalypse, katniss and peeta are neighbors and the only two that make it to katniss's father's bunker in time. Over the course of several years the two have grown quite close having no one else, but now provisions are running low. Do they face the unknown outside or stay put, knowing they only have food to last another week? [sent by anonymous]

Sunset on Grass by @alliswell21

Prompt 67: Her parents said that it was just a childhood crush and that she will outgrow it. But why does her heart flutters. When she’s finally old enough to get a job, she immediately gets a part time job to be close to him. Will is pursue her love against people’s negative views because he’s so much older than her. Or go for it and make him fall in love with her. Age Gap Older!Peeta. [submitted by @animekpopxx] 

A Taste of Rebellion by @acpoe82

Prompt 68: Dark Coffee Shop AU - Capitol Peeta runs a Coffee/Pastry shop in the poshest part of the Capitol. Near by President Snow’s Mansion. Capitol!Katniss is a frequent customer. Things in the Capitol begin to deteriorate as the rebellion drags on. Are they sympathetic to the rebel cause? [submitted by @oakfarmer12] 

You're Not Alone by @sunsetsrmydreams

Prompt 70: Peeta picks up a hitchhiker in the mountains one night, only to find it's his childhood best friend and now escaped convict Katniss Everdeen. In a panic he calls police but after hearing her side of the story comes to believe she didn't actually murder anyone. Everlark on the run. [submitted by anonymous]

Forever and a day... by @thegirlfromoverthepond

Prompt 73: I am a simple woman: I just want Katniss Everdeen content and loved and washed in moonlight I don’t care how you do it. [submitted by @rosegardeninwinter] 

The Most Unlikely Serendipity by @albinokittens300

PART 2, PART 3, PART 4

Prompt 75: An in-Panem arranged marriage a/u where Katniss is slightly older than Peeta. [submitted by @endlessnightlock] 

Shots Make Me Sing by @sunsetsrmydreams

Prompt 81: Katniss finds her soulmate at her bachelorette party (aka Peeta)(Happy ending please) [submitted by anonymous] 

when we’re underneath the lights my heart’s no longer broken by @omercilessmoon

Prompt 92: High school musical au: katniss and peeta as troy and Gabriella. [submitted by anonymous] 

December nights in June by @viloula

Prompt 110: AU. Everlark live across from each other in fancy New York (or the like) penthouses. With all those large windows, they see each other daily and know the other's routine and all he/she does, but they've never met. A chance meeting occurs. What will happen? The circumstances of their living arrangements/any backstory and what happens between them is up to you. [submitted by @acpoe82]

High Heels at Midnight by @hutchhitched

Prompt 134: Visual Prompt. To see it go HERE [submitted by @javistg] 

must work hard, tolerate cats by @mendontprotectyou

Prompt 140: In Panem AU where Peeta is a Mail Order Husband. As the youngest son of a merchant class Capitol family, he has accepted he will never inherit the family bakery. But when his family contract him to an arranged marriage to further the business he will never own, he escapes by signing up to a programme to relocate and marry a district woman. Why Katniss needs a husband, is up to the author. Everlark endgame :) [submitted by @louezem]

Notes: 

Fics organized by prompt number. 

Masterlist compiled on May 11, 2020. Subject to change. New works will be added as they’re posted to the @everlarkficexchange. 

Looking for updated versions of the multi-chapter fics? Try our AO3 Collection 

[mae-gi-writes]

Deobi Playlist (EP 10) | The Boyz Imagine

The Boyz x Hospital Playlist inspired drabble series.

Main characters: Kevin, Juyeon, Hyunjae and OC (Mae)

Sides: the rest of The Boyz

Genre: fluff, slice of life, BROMANCE BRUH

EP 1 | EP 2 | EP 3 | EP 4 | EP 5 | EP 6 | EP 7 | EP 8 | EP 9 | EP 10

-----------

"Excuse me."

"Yes," Juyeon whips his head up to see a pregnant woman waddling over to the counter with an expression that looks murderous. Holding her belly against herself with a grocery bag slung over her shoulder, she slams her entire body onto the front counter, which causes him to jump in surprise. 

"How are you, ma'am? How can I help you today?" Juyeon flashes a wan smile, used to dealing with unnerved clients. There's usually always a reason behind their madness.

"I have been waiting for at least an hour!" The woman bellows, practically red in the face, "I'm due in two weeks, and there are so many other pregnant women waiting behind me. How come it's taking so long?"

"Ma'am, I'm sorry we--"

"Do you know how hard it is for us, pregnant women, to sit here in this stuffed waiting room while babies are kicking?!" She interrupts with another yell as Juyeon's hands come up in defense, "I want to see Dr. Bae right now! Right now, you hear me? I'm tired! I want to go home!" 

Panic rises at the back of Juyeon's throat, "I--I am so sorry about this ma'am. But due to the number of patients today, the office is running a little slower than usual. I'm really sorry--"

"I don't want to hear your stupid reasons. I want my appointment!" She bellows, "Now!"

Fear coils through his stomach, a sick feeling tying into knots as his throat dries up with the countless excuses dying on the tip of his tongue. 

Shit, his heart races. How is he supposed to deal with that? 

He'd give anything to be shadowing a doctor right now. 

The door to the doctor's office suddenly slides open, revealing a gentle-eyed Jacob who's gaze quickly flits between them in understanding. The woman doesn't even wait a second, quickly twisting her body and waddling towards him. 

"Dr. Bae, I was just telling your stupid staff here that you need to speed up your process! Do you know how painful it is to be sitting around with that?" She motions towards her belly, legs wide apart and fists clenched at her sides as though she's preparing for battle. 

But Jacob's expression stays unfazed, "I apologize, ma'am. Unfortunately the speed of the diagnosis does not rely solely on me, but my patient."

"Yes, but--"

"Some have--" Jacob pauses, presses his lips together as sympathy flashes through his face, "some have difficult obstacles they've had to face in regards to their pregnancy. Not everyone is as lucky that their baby is growing up to be healthy."

The woman blinks, opening her mouth, then closing it upon realizing that she has been shocked into silence. 

"I understand your frustrations, I really do," Jacob's voice is gentle, a soothing lullaby that instantly makes Juyeon feel like the world is a better place, "but we all have to cooperate a little, work together to make this work. Don't you think?" 

For a moment, there's a complete silence so palpable that Juyeon can hear the ringing in his ears. He can feel the eyes of a multitude of patients drilling into the back of his skull and goosebumps suddenly explode along his arm at the sensation. 

"Alright," the woman finally lets out a grumble, "fine. Whatever."

And she turns around, wobbly on her feet, before plopping back down at her seat looking slightly disconcerted by the effect of Jacob's words. 

Juyeon sends the said doctor a look of utter gratefulness, which Jacob answers with a wink of his own before retreating back into his office. 

Thank god. 

---------

It's been a long day running back and forth between the maternity department and the pediatric ward, but it is only when the last patient bids their goodbyes that Juyeon allows his neutral mask to fall.

"I'm sorry doctor," he bows his head to the ground, not daring to make any kind of eye contact due to the embarrassment coiling through him, "It was my fault. I couldn't calm her down in time."

"No no," Jacob's lips curl up into a smile, face softening with understanding, "it happens all the time. Impatient patients are the norm around here. Mothers-to-be, especially."

"Still, I'm sorry."

"Did that swear you off the Maternity Ward then?" Jacob's smile widens into a teasing grin.

"Maybe."

"Well, if it's of any comfort, it's no better in the other wards."

"What do you mean?" Juyeon frowns. 

"Some of them are always looking for donors, others always doing extra shifts. The pediatric ward is the only one that's doing okay, as of late. Cancer department is just a hole of sadness."

"That's...not very encouraging."

"That's the reality of it," Jacob shrugs, "did you give it any thought? What you wanted to specialize?" 

"I don't know. Cancer, maybe. I'm not good with kids and the Cardiac Department looks like hell. Also, Organs make me squirm."

Jacob laughs at that, the sound bouncing through the room like sunlight, "that's exactly the same reason why I didn't want to specialize in surgery."

"That makes the two of us."

After packing up their belongings and clocking out for the day, Jacob offers to buy Juyeon dinner as a thank-you for helping him throughout the day and though the latter tries his best to refuse, the doctor insists that it's just something he does with all of his underlings, and that not treating Juyeon would just not be right. 

So Juyeon has no other choice but to follow as they walk to the parking lot. They unexpectedly bump into Hyunjae and Changmin in the lobby, causing Jacob to invite them both to join. 

"Why Jacob, I think that's the first time you're buying me dinner," Hyunjae can't help but comment as they settle at one of the tables of Mama's chicken, a small restaurant just down the street from their hospital. Juyeon smacks his thigh in protest, aiming to be subtle while the former stifles his groan of pain. 

"What?" Hyunjae hisses venomously.

"You don't say those kinds of things," Juyeon hisses back.

"You only care because you want him to give you a good review."

"Piss off, Hyunjae." 

The dinner goes surprisingly well considering that Juyeon isn't really familiar with Jacob. Having Hyunjae helps ease the tension between the interns and the doctors, lightening the atmosphere and loosening up his tongue. They share stories about patients, heart-wrenching stories about the ones they lost, and the ones that they managed to save. The more they spoke, the more Juyeon felt like this was the right path he'd chosen, after all this internal dilemma that had cost him a few years. 

"So why did you want to study medicine?" Asks Hyunjae to Changmin, who is already slightly flushed from his second beer. 

"I--uh--I just wanted to make the world a better place," Changmin stammers, ears flushing red, "I don't think I've considered anything else."

"See, this is the problem with interns," Hyunjae shakes a hand at him, "you guys think that being a doctor is honourable. It fucking sucks, okay? Like, it's really shitty. The shittiest of everything shitty in this world."

"Not all that shitty," Jacob intercepts.

Hyunjae scowls at him, "for you, maybe. You work in the Maternity Ward. What's the worst? That a pregnant woman comes screaming at you?" 

At that comment, Juyeon can't help but glance at Jacob, eyes meeting for a quick second in understanding. 

“I think I got used to that,” Jacob answers with a small smile, “Pregnant women don’t scare me.” 

“You’re brave, Dr. Bae,” Hyunjae sniffs, “there’s no way I’d be able to make it.”

“Do you regret choosing to be a surgeon?” Changmin pipes up.

“Nah,” Hyunjae flashes him a grin then, leaning back against his seat and poking Juyeon’s neck as he does so, “couldn’t find myself a better match. Surgery is all I live for. It’s like me against death, and most of the time, I always win.” 

“And the times you don’t?” 

“You win some, you lose some. That’s the reality of it.”

When Jacob and Changmin bid their goodbyes, Juyeon accompanies Hyunjae back to the hospital -- the latter has a night shift. It is his second one in a row -- while throwing his friend a couple of worried glances out of the corner of his eye. 

He knows more than anyone how much Hyunjae gives to the people. No matter how much bravado he puts on about doctors and how medicine really is like a beast you can’t tame, there’s definitely always a sparkle in the said doctor’s eyes whenever he talks about it. Juyeon admires that, and he admires Hyunjae (not that he’ll ever tell him though), but his stomach can’t help but churn with worry when he notices the darkening blue aprons underneath his friend’s eyes, or the tiredness lining them, red-rimmed and mouth pulled down in a way that only suggests he lacks sleep and energy. 

“Hey,” Juyeon speaks up when they reach the hospital doors. Hyunjae looks back at him as he says, “try getting some sleep. You look like crap.” 

“Thanks Juyeon. I’ll keep that in mind.” 

“I’m serious, Hyunjae. Continue doing that and you’ll pass out in mid-surgery.” 

“Yeah yeah,” the older man sticks out his tongue in retaliation, “I hear you, mother. You heading home now?” 

“Yup. I’m done for the day. I got tomorrow off too.” 

“Lucky bastard.”

-----

Tagging: @juyeonzz @thesingingfae1905 @gratefulmaria @nochuu17​

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!

Also, for all those who have sent me requests, don’t worry I’m working on them! they shall be up soon! <3

I’M SO SORRY IT’S SO SHORT FML BUT LIFE IS GETTING IN THE WAY AND MAE IS TRYING TO ADULT AND GO TO JOB INTERVIEWS SO YEAH IM SORRY FHSDLSDLKJDBUT I HOPE YOU LIKE ALL THIS BROMANCE. 

NEXT EP WILL BE FULL OF MAE AND KEV SFKSDHGKDSJGDSLGLDKN <3 

[purplesurveys]

1140

"Working 9-5, what a way to make a living"

survey by lets-make-surveys

1 - What is it that do you for a living? How long have you been doing that particular job? Have mentioned this a few times, but I work at a PR agency which lets me work with a number of local and international brands and help them out with their campaigns. I’ve been with the company for 6ish months when I first started as an intern, but I officially got hired as an associate 4 months ago.

I had originally sent a letter of interest since they didn’t have any vacancies at the time, and they got back to me with an internship offer and told me they’ll get back to me should they have any openings; so it’s nice that they kept their word.

2 - Did you need to go to university or college in order to do the job that you do? I mean I think it helped my chances of scoring the job, and the skills I picked up in taking up journalism definitely remains useful; but ultimately, I don’t think people need degrees to be able to work as long as they prove to be capable.

3 - Do you work a 9-5 job or are your hours a lot more flexible? It’s a 9–6, but we have a lunch break so it’s technically 8 hours. The hours get more flexible the higher your position.

4 - Do you have to wear a uniform for your job or do you get to wear whatever you want? What is it that you typically wear to work? We don’t have a uniform but we do have a dress code. Not that I have to strictly follow it in the meantime, since we’re WFH and I always work in my loungewear lol.

5 - What are the best bits about your job? What about the worst bits? The best is that it’s literally a fun job. We make cute curated kits for media and bloggers on a regular basis, we interact with celebrities and influencers, and it’s nice to write press releases and other materials that don’t strictly adhere to the rigid and robotic journalistic style that I had to use throughout college. Plus it’s always fun to be the first to be in the know of what campaigns or launches brands are coming up with, hahaha. It’s especially fun on my part since I actually consume the brands that I work with ;)

Worst part would have to be dealing with pesky clients, or clients that have no idea what direction they want to take. As an agency, of course it’s our job to help them; but when a client sounds completely clueless, that affects the pitches that we present as well. PR crises also stress me out, but luckily we’re led by an amazing team of bosses who handle everything smoothly.

6 - How many jobs (including your current one) have you had in total? Just this one. I’ve also had two internships as well, both in PR.

7 - How old were you when you got your first job? What was it that you did? I was 22. I recognize how lucky I am to score a job during the pandemic, so I definitely haven’t taken this opportunity for granted.

8 - As a teenager, did you ever babysit, wash cars or walk dogs in order to make a bit of extra money? No, babysitting isn’t really the norm here. My parents used to give me a weekly allowance when I was still a student.

9 - Are you working in the field you wanted to work in when you were younger? I’ve gone a slightly different route. PR is still under the umbrella of journalism, but I’ve done away with the news reporting and documentary-making side of it.

10 - How may days a week do you work? Do you work full or part-time hours? Monday to Friday. I work full-time, with the occasional overtime because of how hectic everything is most of the time.

11 - Do you make good money for what you do? Can you live comfortably on the money you earn? What I earn is the standard starting salary for most fresh grads so I’m not actively complaining about it, but it could be more tbh. I for sure can’t live alone with what I make. All I’m really looking for at this point in my life is to have enough to give my parents and be able to give myself the occasional treat, so overall I’m okay with how much I make.

12 - Aside from bills/rent/mortgage/groceries, what do you spend most of your income on? Food, heh.

13 - What job have you enjoyed doing the most? What about the least? I’ve only had one job.

14 - Have you ever worked the night shift? Did you enjoy it? If not, is it something you'd ever consider doing in the future? No, and I wouldn’t consider it. It’s just a lot more convenient to get my work done during the day and be able to rest at night.

15 - Given the choice, would you want to work for yourself or for someone else? Not sure if I have it in me to run my own company or business.

16 - Would you ever be able to work with your partner and maintain your sanity? Probably not, but I think it depends on how we mesh. In my past experience, I couldn never work in harmony with Gab on some college projects we worked on because our work habits were very different. I’m super uptight and like being able to lead and attend to every detail, while she’s super independent. This is why I like working with Bea, who's very by-the-book and likes to direct every aspect of my deliverables.

17 - Do you work in a job where your appearance is important, or do you have to dress practically instead? Appearance is for sure a factor. We’re constantly handling events and managing clients, so we definitely have to make it look like it’s a ~glamorous job, at least on the outside.

18 - Have you ever had a big argument with a co-worker? What happened? No, and I’m very non-confrontational so I hope to never have to deal with this situation. Luckily we’re all very close-knit and able to maturely deal with mistakes and disagreements.

19 - Have you ever had a romantic relationship with someone you met through work? Did things work out in the long run? No. I’m not sure I’d want to entertain something like this, since it could be awkward if we broke up; I’m also worried it would affect not just my work, but also the dynamic and the vibe in the workplace.

20 - If you could do any job in the world (assuming you'd earn a decent living from it), what would you do and why? Probably a writer in the lifestyle beat where I get to try out all the fancy hotels to stay at and all the best steaks to eat for free, lol. I have media contacts who do exactly this and I loooove following their lives. I’d also be a lawyer, if only I wasn’t such a crybaby in arguments.

21 - If you won the lottery (assuming you won enough to live off comfortably), would you give up work? Most likely.

22 - Have you ever walked out of a job without giving notice? What were the circumstances surrounding it? Never. Again, too afraid of confrontation or consequences lol. I’d most likely do this if there was a group walkout, though.

23 - Have you ever been formally disciplined at work for any reason? What happened? Nope.

24 - Have you ever been sacked from a job before? I haven’t.

25 - What are the best workplace benefits you've ever had in a job? Do you have any in your current workplace? In my orientation I was told that the company has annual outings abroad, which I found fucking sweeeeeeeet?! Most, if not all, companies just do out-of-towns, so the fact that there’s enough budget to go to countries like Japan sounds super fun.

Not necessarily a ~workplace benefit~ but I also appreciate how my employer gives a big emphasis on mental health and self-care. It’s nice not to be treated like a cog or a robot.

26 - Do you work in the same location everyday, or do you find yourself travelling around a lot? I work at home, so... but based on what I’ve picked up from my co-workers’ conversations, they did regularly have to travel to our clients’ headquarters or offices pre-pandemic to hold meetings and present decks and stuff.

27 - Have you ever turned up to work drunk or high? Did you get caught or did you end up in trouble? Nah. I wouldn’t dare to do so either.

28 - Are you currently working towards any kind of promotion or payrise? Do you think you'll have any luck? I mean, that is obviously the goal; but I have a long way to go.

29 - Have you ever had a boss that you felt was incompetent or poor at their job? Did you ever tell them how you felt? Mmm no, not so far. I did recently get a new manager since Bea got promoted, but I think she’s been competent so far.

30 - Do you earn an annual salary or are you paid hourly? Not sure how to answer this because math HAHA but I get paid every two weeks.