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sit-down-and-shut-up · 4 years

Text

time- a. hotchner

SUMMARY: you get kidnapped lol

WARNINGS: kidnapping (duh), some injuries but everyone lives, aaron being m a d, and reader being a freaking baddie

WORDS: too many 6604

A/N: sorry that it’s been a hot minute since i posted, im lazy

Aaron glanced up as the workday finally drew to a close, watching you wave goodbye to the team and stroll towards the unit chief’s office, just in time to see JJ as she ascended the steps on her way to the room as well. You started to wave, but JJ murmured something you couldn’t make out and you stopped. Aaron’s blood ran cold, and he mentally cursed himself for being naive enough to believe that things would work out for once. He turned to look at Emily and Morgan through the blinds, who’d been talking near Emily’s desk, and saw their eyes trained on you and JJ. Emily swore under her breath, then headed to the conference room with Spencer and Derek not far behind.

+++++

Aaron sat down next to you in the conference room, meeting your eyes and giving you a halfhearted smile. You returned the gesture and went back to scanning the grisly photos before you. He zoned out as JJ spoke, giving the rundown on each of the girls that had been abducted, then murdered mere hours later. The murders seemed somewhat random, with the exception that the victims were all girls in their upper 20’s. In fact, they were all 29, just like you were.

Something clicked in your mind, but you didn’t want to jump to conclusions. You could feel Aaron’s steely gaze on you, and you wondered briefly if he could tell what you were thinking. You were lost in your thoughts, to the point where you didn’t hear Aaron’s deep “Wheels up in 30.” After everyone had left the conference room, Aaron turned back to see you still staring at the photos, searching for something you couldn’t quite name among the blood spatters and empty faces. He walked over to you and gently tapped your shoulder, causing your head to whip up to face him. Realization washed over your eyes, and you mumbled an apology.

Aaron shook his head in response, saying “I’m sorry. I was hoping we’d actually get to go out tonight.” You sighed, then replied.

“Who knows? Maybe the unsub will be caught by the time we get there and we can go get dinner or something.” You laughed as you said it, but your laughter was tinged with a resigned sadness Aaron despised, wishing he could take you somewhere you’d never be forced to feel this way again. Aaron watched you for a few seconds longer, as your face darkened and you grabbed your files and left the room, heading to his office, where both of your go-bags were. He wanted to tell you so much, but wasn’t sure how to start. He wanted to tell you that he’d been planning to propose this evening, that he wanted to be with you forever. But he couldn’t.

+++++

Aaron noticed you lost in your thoughts again on the plane ride while the rest of the team went over the case. The sheer amount of bodies was enough to give someone pause. In addition, the unsub took a girl each Thursday, but never kept them for more than a few hours. Why?

The plane ride felt fairly short. You were hit with a wave of nostalgia as the plane touched down in New York, where you’d gone to college years earlier, and worked before you were transferred to the Behavioral Analysis Unit and moved to Quantico. As you walked into the FBI field office with the rest of the BAU, you couldn’t stop your mind from remembering the last time you’d been in the building, when working a terrorism case alongside Agent Joyner four years earlier.

She’d been killed immediately by a bomb in your SUV, and metal had been lodged in your left leg, cutting the femoral artery and nearly causing you to bleed out. If not for your Aaron, you would’ve died there, on the cold pavement. When Aaron came to visit you while you recovered from surgery, you managed to slur out that you loved him. At the time, he blamed it on the drugs you were on, until he showed up at your hospital room again a few hours later, to drive you home. You’d suffered hearing loss as well, and coupled with your leg injury, you couldn’t go in the field or on the plane for a while. As he helped you up and handed you the crutches you’d be relying on for nearly a year, you met his eyes and said confidently, “I meant what I said earlier.”

He’d paused for a second, before his lips spread into a rare smile, and he said, “I love you too.” You’d always known the relationship wouldn’t be easy, considering his recent divorce and your unconventional jobs, but you were fine with it. Being with Aaron was good enough.

Present-day Aaron subtly placed a hand on the small of your back, a sign of encouragement he’d adopted over the years. You glanced up at him and nodded, silently letting him know you were okay. He dropped his hand, and held it out to the new director of the New York field office: Agent Milenka, an enthusiastic but imposing woman you’d met at the Academy when you were younger. You caught Morgan glaring at her for a second, reminding you that Morgan almost got that job. Still, you knew that Morgan loved you all too much to leave the BAU for a job directing the New York field office. The team was his rock, the weight that tethered him to reality when he was at his lowest. Aaron introduced Milenka to the rest of your team, until she cut him off when he got to you.

“I know her,” she declared loudly, “I was her firearms trainer at the Academy, but she had to show me up and be better with a gun than I am.” Spite dripped from her words, but the mischievous smile on her face told you she wasn’t really upset. Aaron nodded slightly, caught off-guard by her remark, then interjected to ask where his team could set up.

Agent Milenka led all of you to an empty conference room, with the case files already arranged neatly and a blank evidence board at the front of the room. She turned on her heel and stared firmly at the team. If you hadn’t known her for years, you’d assume she was going to attempt to assert control over the case, but instead she said, “My agents have come to see this office as a family, and probably won’t take too well to the fact that I’ve called you in. If any of them give you hell, tell me, and I’ll make the devil look like a cuddly teddy bear.” She pivoted on her heel to leave, then turned back around. “Agent L/N, my office.”

+++++

You were shocked, to be honest. This woman could bring grown men to their knees, and now she sat in front of you, spinning in a swivel chair, teasing you over your obvious infatuation with Aaron Hotchner.

“Really, Milenka, I gotta get back to the team,” you sighed, rubbing your temples.

“Fine”, she grunted, making a shooing motion with her hand. “But here’s what I meant to tell you. I’m guessing you and your team want to know why it took this many bodies for me to call you in. I mean, I’d be wondering that, too. The bodies were all dumped two days ago, even though they’d all been dead for various amounts of time, so I’m guessing the unsub wanted to make sure I had to call you guys. Keep that in mind. He knows how this works.” The humor and mischief was gone from the agent’s voice, and in that moment you knew how she’d risen through the ranks of the FBI so quickly. Something about her made you want to do everything you could to solve the case as quickly as possible. She wasn’t someone you could let down.

You grimaced, then nodded, unable to say anything, and left her office, getting coffee from the espresso machine for you and your teammates as you walked back to the conference room. As you passed around the cups, Aaron watched you expectantly, obviously waiting for you to relay whatever information Agent Milenka had told you, and so you did. The reactions among the team members were the same, set jaws and darkening eyes. You didn’t know where to start with the case, until you remembered the idea you’d gotten back in D.C. You leapt from the black desk chair you’d just sat down in and practically ran to the evidence board, grabbing a red dry-erase marker and organizing the victim’s pictures from the first to the last to be abducted. You circled the eyes on some of the pictures, the hair on others, the widow’s peaks on some, and other various defining features.

“He’s working up to someone specific,” Spencer muttered as you worked. You whipped around, pointing a finger at him and downing the last of your coffee.

“Yes! Okay, so, look at this: The first and last girl are wildly different, but when you look at the chronological order of the victims, each one gains another characteristic that the next one didn’t have, like he’s working up to getting one specific girl, and kept killing those that looked increasingly similar to his real target!” You blurted the words, and watched as your teammates looked on in a mix of awe and horror, at both the board and a piece of paper Spencer had messily written on. Aaron, who was usually so emotionless, looked especially horrified, and scared. You shot Spencer a questioning look, and he held up the paper he’d shown the rest of the team. He’d taken the first letter of each woman’s name, and when lined up, they spelled out a message.

Your name.

+++++

“You’re off the case.” Aaron said, crossing his arms over his chest as you paced around the empty office he’d practically dragged you to.

“What? If some psycho is after me, I want to be the one to catch him!” You spoke firmly, almost yelling but not quite.

“If some psycho is after you,” Aaron started, sounding much calmer than you had, “I want you to be safe. Sending you out to hunt him down isn’t keeping you safe.”

You scoffed, then yelled, “As long as he’s out there, I’m not safe! If you let me help, we’ll find him faster. I can’t- no, I won’t- just sit here doing nothing while this man kills women just because he’s got some sort of vendetta against me!”

Aaron’s resolve broke down. You could tell from the way his back slumped and he pulled you into his chest. You wrapped your arms around him, basking in the feeling of calm it brought. Your anger dissipated when he held you like that, and he knew it.

He murmured, “I can’t lose you,” into your ear, and your heart broke from the way his voice cracked from fear and sadness. Aaron pulled away far too soon, and gave you a look that you knew meant to stay put, and pulled out his phone to call Penelope Garcia.

A few moments later, Spencer walked in, hands in his pockets. He looked unsure of himself, and you couldn’t figure out why until he said, “Hotch wants me to drive you to the hotel.”

You stared at him silently for a second, then mumbled curses under your breath and stormed out of the room to find your bag. Spencer put an arm out to stop you, then said, “He said he’d bring it for you tonight.”

You glared at him for a moment, before averting your gaze to the suddenly interesting polished linoleum beneath you. “I’m sorry. This isn’t your fault. I shouldn’t be mad at you.”

Spencer gave you a small smile, and replied, “It’s okay. You’re stressed. We all are. Hotch just wants you to be safe.”

You nodded, and he led you from the building to the shiny, black SUV parked outside. Aaron jogged out of the building towards you, and grabbed the handle of the vehicle before you could. You met his eyes, and he murmured, “I know you’re mad at me, but I need you to stay in the hotel room, okay? Lock the door, and I’ll be there tonight with your go-bag.” You nodded, and he paused a second before saying, “I love you.”

Your pride got the best of you, and you simply muttered, “I know.”

+++++

You’d been sure that the SUV’s tires were full when you’d arrived in New York, but the flat passenger tire begged to differ. Spencer pulled into a nearby gas station to fill up the tire, something you were fairly sure he’d never done before. You couldn’t help but laugh when he called Morgan to ask what to do, who responded that it would be easier for him to come fill up the tire himself. You mouthed that you had to go to the bathroom, and Spencer nodded as Morgan’s laughter came through the phone. You stifled laughter as you walked into the gas station, grimacing at the smell of sweat and cheap hot dogs.

+++++

Aaron wasn’t sure if he’d ever been so mad. No, mad wasn’t the word. Was there a word that could encapsulate the unadulterated fury coursing through his veins? He paced the conference room like a caged lion, practically screaming at Spencer and Derek through the phone.

“What the hell happened?”

Spencer was crying, he could tell that much from the muffled sobs, and Aaron couldn’t help but think that he might never see you again. He slammed the phone onto the table with nearly enough force to break it, and looked up to see Emily, Rossi, and JJ already halfway out the conference room, before he’d told them what happened. The four of them slid into the two remaining SUVs. Aaron screeched out of the parking lot, gripping the wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. Rossi kept shooting him worried glances he pretended not to notice.

“We’ll find her,” Rossi said, “But you need to stay calm for us to do it.”

Aaron nodded. He didn’t trust his voice to work right now. If he tried to speak, he knew he’d probably cry. He pulled into the gas station just before Emily and JJ, and a voice in his head reminded him that this might be the last place you’d ever see. Rossi hopped out of the car, giving Aaron a sympathetic look as he did so.

+++++

The team had been at the gas station for almost three hours, interviewing customers, collecting evidence, and talking to workers. Multiple people reported seeing a woman similar to who Aaron described enter the bathroom, but no one saw her leave.There was a window in the girl’s bathroom that had been broken from the inside, with blood on both the window and the glass. The forensics team ran the blood, and it was all from the same person.

Aaron didn’t need to hear the results to know whose blood it was. Spencer tried to help, informing him that she hadn’t bled out because women had approximately 4.5 pints of blood and that was at most half a pint, but Aaron cut him off. He couldn’t hear it, couldn’t listen to everyone talking about his girlfriend, the love of his life, as though she was already dead. He knew the odds, knew that she was almost certainly going to be dead within the first 72 hours, considering how the unsub had killed the other women.

He was going to find you alive. He knew it.

Because he wasn’t sure what he’d do if he didn’t.

+++++

Everything was fuzzy and painful and oh my god what is that stuff coming out of your side and out of your hand and holy crap you can’t move you’re tied up what are you tied to what’s going on and-

“You’re even prettier than I remember.” The voice sounded familiar, but the only thing your brain could fully focus on at the moment was the excruciating pain. You felt a hand on your side, and then a searing pain that was somehow worse than the pain you’d already been feeling.

“You got a piece of glass in your side. I’m getting it out.”

You felt pressure on the spot, and forced your head to move so you could see what was going on.

He was wrapping your waist in some sort of bandage to staunch the bleeding. You forced yourself to look around the musty room you were in. You were seated in a chair, with your arms tied to the back of the chair by a coarse brown rope and a metal chain and heavy shackle attached to your left ankle. Your eyes followed the chain, to where it connected to a silver hook jutting from the wooden floor, which was coated in a layer of dirt.

Dirt.

You must be in a barn, or shed, or something. You definitely weren’t in New York City anymore.

You vaguely remembered what had happened in the gas station bathroom. There’d been a man waiting in the first stall, who jumped on you, shoving your head against the mirror hard enough to crack your skull. You figured that you’d blacked out, and he’d jumped the window with you in tow.

Then another memory washes over you like a tsunami, flooding you with regret.

Aaron said he loved you, and you didn’t say it back. Now, you might never get to tell him that you love him again.

+++++

Aaron removed himself from the case, leaving Rossi in charge. He knew he’d only slow everyone else down with the torrent of emotions dancing inside his skull. So now, he’s resorted to sitting in your hotel room alone, wishing he hadn’t told you to go to the hotel. He’d been crying for the first time in years.

Aaron had no clue what to do, and it gives him newfound respect for the families of abducted victims that he speaks to. He pulled the sparkling diamond ring he planned on giving you tonight out of his bag, staring at it and imagining it on your ring finger. It doesn’t make him happier, instead it just turns the steady stream of tears into a storm.

+++++

Morgan, Rossi, JJ, and Emily, seated at the silver table in the conference room, were going over every last piece of evidence they have, while Spencer made a map of the abduction sites as Agent Milenka told him the addresses. They already established that the victims were high-risk due to their above-average athleticism, and each victim was taken from a high-risk location. Spencer looked for any sense of a pattern in abduction sites, but couldn’t find one. Eventually, he sat down next to Morgan and Emily, defeated.

“So all we know is that he’s obsessed with Y/N, and that he wasn’t remorseful about the murders of the other women.” Derek sighed, leaning back in his chair.

“Well, if he was able to subdue her, he most likely had the element of surprise. So, he probably isn’t physically strong, and needed that advantage to knock her out.” Rossi added, and Derek nodded.

Spencer looked up from the crime scene photos. “There’s no ligature marks.”

Derek nodded. “Yeah, we went over that. So?”

“Why knock the women out and transport them if you’re just going to kill them immediately instead of holding them somewhere? Why not just kill them wherever they already are?”

Emily’s mouth fell open. “Practice. So that when he had Y/N, he knew exactly what was going to happen. But he didn’t want to ruin the rest of the fantasy by taking someone else where he’s planned to keep Y/N. He wants that to be special.”

“So we know he’s going to be holding her somewhere secluded, then,” Milenka chimed in.

After a few moments of silence, the phone rang in the center of the table, and the team members all stared at it for a few moments before Derek turned to the computer next to him, where Garcia was currently on a video call with the team.

“Can you trace this call, babygirl?”

Garcia nodded. “I don’t have a trap and trace set up yet, but I can get one, honey. Just gimme one second.”

Derek’s hand hovered over the button on the receiver to answer the call, and when Garcia affirmed that she was ready, Derek pressed the button. Instantly, a somewhat timid male voice filled the room.

“Where’s Agent Hotchner? I want to speak to him, not any of you.”

The team shared a perplexed look, and Emily asked, “How do you know who is here and who isn’t?”

“The window’s open.”

JJ ran to the window, then turned. “He’s there,” she said, pointing to a man directly underneath where the conference window was with a phone to his ear.

The rest of the team sprinted down the stairs and out of the field office, with JJ not far behind. By the time they got to where the man had been, he was long gone. No one near the area said they’d seen him, either.

Derek turned and punched the wall out of rage, while Emily cursed loudly. The rapid darkening of the sky didn’t help with trying to catch an unsub, either.

Dejectedly, the team returned to the conference room, where Garcia excitedly said, “Your man forgot to hang up for a few minutes! I don’t know entirely where he went, but I know the direction he was headed!”

“Where, Garcia?” Spencer asked, desperate for a lead.

“Straight west.”

Spencer looked to Emily, who said, “Let’s go.”

+++++

The team knew the unsub needed somewhere secluded to keep you, but couldn’t figure out where. He’d been on foot when they’d seen him, so it had to be somewhat close. Or maybe he’d had a car in a parking lot somewhere? There were too many variables. They needed Hotch.

+++++

“Drink.”

The man held a cup to your lips, but you kept them closed tight. After trying to force you for a while, he gave up. Sighing, the man ran a hand through your hair, forcing your head upright. For a serial killer, he was surprisingly gentle.

“You need your strength,” the man murmured, but you looked away when he picked up the cup again. He set it down, shaking his head, then pulled a knife out of the back pocket of his blue jeans. You knew better than to scream. It was likely that he craved your pain, so allowing him that satisfaction would coax him to continue. He walked behind you, to where you wouldn’t see him. You closed your eyes, praying for a quick death, praying Aaron would find you, praying you could see your team one last time.

But you didn’t need to.

The man cut through the rope binding your wrists, then left the room. He was rarely in the room with you, and you wondered what he was doing outside of it. For the first time, however, he came back within a few minutes of leaving. You could theoretically move if you wanted to now that the rope was gone considering how long the chain attached to your leg was, but you were weak and hurting. The last thing you saw before your vision went black yet again was the man standing above you with a syringe.

+++++

Aaron was with the rest of the team, visiting each abduction site for something, anything to help the profile, when the unsub called him.

“This is Hotchner.”

“I have her, Agent Hotchner, and I treat her better than you ever could. You think what she needs is a big strong man to control her,” he mocked, “But you don’t truly love her. No one could, except me.” Although the man’s words were confident, he sputtered out the words like an old truck engine. It sounded like he was reading a script, as though he’d had to plan out what he was going to say beforehand. As soon as the unsub finished speaking, the tell-tale click of the phone hanging up sounded.

Emily, who’d been walking next to him, stopped, pulling out her phone to contact Penelope.

“Can you get the rest of the team on the line? I think Morgan and Reid are at the Central Park crime scene, and JJ and Rossi are probably still by Times Square.”

Emily could practically hear Penelope’s smile as she responded, “Can do, gorgeous.”

A few keyboard clicks later, Penelope stated, “You’ve got me, Morgan, Rossi, Reid,and JJ.”

Emily took a shaky breath before saying, “We think Y/N knew the unsub.”

“What do you mean, knew?” Reid’s voice sounded.

“He claimed that he loves her more than Aaron ever could. He thinks he knows her better than us, so he probably knew her when she used to live in New York.”

“She went to college here, didn’t she?” JJ responded.

Penelope chimed in, exclaiming, “She went to John Jay College of Criminal Justice. Graduated top of her class.”

Morgan cleared his throat, then added: “Maybe the unsub didn’t know her, but thought he did. He could’ve been stalking her when she lived here, then kept tabs on her when she transferred to the BAU years ago.”

“He probably found out about Y/N’s relationship with Aaron recently, and that’s his stressor.” Rossi added.

Emily stared into the distance. There was something off about this. The theory made sense, but at the same time, it felt, well, wrong.

Agent Milenka, who’d been surveying the crime scene Emily and Aaron were at, sauntered over.

“I know who did this.”

Aaron met her firm gaze, confused and intrigued.

“Who?”

“There was this guy she met at John Jay, didn’t talk much, but he ended up applying to the FBI just because she did. He made it in a few months after her and got a job as a forensic analyst at our field office here. They worked together pretty often, and he was never too strange, but you got the feeling there was something off. He started acting weird after Y/N’s transfer to the BAU. I ordered another psych eval for him a few months ago, and he failed. I fired him, and I haven’t seen him since.”

Aaron and Emily shared a look, both hopeful and sad.

“What’s his name?”

“Ian Foster.”

Aaron nodded, murmuring a quick thank you, then turned back to Emily.

“Call Garcia. We need all the information we can find on Ian Foster.”

+++++

Your head hurt. You were somewhere different now; the dirty brown floor had been replaced with plush white carpet, and the chair you’d gotten used to was gone. Your left leg was still shackled, but this time it was attached to a shiny metal spike in the center of the room. You surveyed your surroundings, noting the vast difference between your current location and your past one. The chain attached to your ankle was long, probably meant to give you full access to the room you were in but keep you from leaving. The walls were white and spotless, along with the queen-sized bed behind you and the dresser and vanity along the far wall. You knew you must look out of place compared to the neatness of your surroundings, with your frizzy, dirty hair and torn, wrinkled, and stained clothes. You realized that you’d never checked your holster for your gun, and in doing so, found it empty.

Great.

Sun shone through the window on your right, and birds chirped happily, as if mocking you. They were telling you that they’re free, while you’re locked in this stupid white room.

Your captor walked in soon after you woke up, and you knew he must be watching you through a camera hidden somewhere.

“Drink.”

Your eyes searched his face, trying to understand who he was, now that you had enough light to see.

“Foster?” You managed to croak out through your parched throat.

Ian nodded, then grabbed your face with one calloused hand, forcing you to open your mouth so he could pour water in, which you promptly spat into his eyes. Instead of causing him to stumble, all it did was make him laugh.

“I see you’re still as fiery as ever.”

You clamped your mouth shut, pursing your lips and staring him in the eyes until he left. After he was gone, you tried to move your arms as much as possible. Your limbs felt heavy, like you were attached to weights, but moving was somewhat possible, a little bit at a time.

For now, that would be enough. You just had to pray that Aaron could find you.

+++++

Ian Foster’s paper trail was a series of dead ends, but Penelope Garcia, being the lovely omnipotent being she is, was able to find two properties owned by his dead uncle in upstate New York that he was likely using to hold you.

Aaron couldn’t describe the relief that wrapped itself around him, like a soft blanket, when Garcia chirped that she’d found where he was. He’d refused to allow himself to think that you might be dead, and the knowledge that now he had your location was sweeter than any candy could ever be.

He wiped a tear from his eye that threatened to fall, and cleared his throat, nodding at Emily and Agent Milenka, wordlessly signaling her to join him as he ran towards the SUV they’d been using. Emily followed, calling JJ and Rossi to give them the address as she ran. The first property, an old farmhouse, was about 40 minutes away from their current location, while the second one, a pretty two-story house, was about three hours away. Hotch, Emily, and Milenka, being farthest from both locations, were driving to the house, while the rest of the team would check out the farmhouse first then meet them there.

+++++

There was this feeling, blossoming in your chest, comforting you, whispering that Aaron was on his way. You’d learned over the years that your instincts rarely lied to you, and you hoped to whatever God there was or wasn't, that this wasn’t one of the times they misled you.

So you knew what you had to do.

You acted nice every time Ian came to visit, roughly every half hour.

Then, after five visits, you drank the water he offered willingly. Gently, Ian helped you up off the ground, a gesture that would’ve been comforting had he not been a serial killer. He moved his hands until they were lightly situated on your waist, and gazed into your eyes with the crazed fanaticism of a deranged man. He leaned in for a kiss, and the second he closed his eyes, you drove your right knee directly into his crotch.

Serves him right for being dumb enough not to fully restrain you. While he doubled over in pain, stepping back, you set up for a roundhouse kick that you placed to the back of his knee, knocking him onto the ground in an ungraceful heap. While he was on the ground, you punched him in the throat with enough force to knock the wind out of him, leaving him gasping for air on the ground like a fish out of water. Sending another kick to his temple for good measure, rendering him unconscious, you searched his pockets for anything that could remove the shackle from your leg. Eventually, you settled for a wire cutter that you used to cut off the attaching chain, but your clumsiness left an angry gash in your leg in the process. Limping from exhaustion, you ran from the room as fast as you could with the pain in your side from the glass that had been lodged there and the blood from the cut in your skull dripping down your face and neck. Your head felt fuzzy and faint, and you knew you were likely to pass out from blood loss any second. You repeated Aaron’s name in your head like a mantra, telling yourself that you needed to get back to him first, then you could pass out from pain. Every part of your body ached, screaming at you to give up as you stumbled down the creaky carpeted stairs, leaving a trail of blood in your wake.

As you neared the foyer, you heard the engine of a car, along with footsteps. The door flew open, with Aaron directly behind it, followed by Morgan, Emily, Spencer, Rossu, and a few agents from the New York office. Aaron’s eyes scanned the room before settling on you, bloodied and bruised, and he ran to you, gathering you in his arms while you whimpered like a child. He whispered things in your ear that you couldn’t make out as you let the blackness at the edge of your vision take over.

+++++

Lights. Murmuring voices. Were you still in that house?

You opened your eyes to see two people, one man and one woman, leaving the room you were in. There was a pressure on your hand that scared you, and slowly, you turned your head to see the source of the sensation, and you were greeted with what was quite possibly the best view you’d ever laid eyes on: Aaron Hotchner asleep at your side, desperately clutching your hand.

“Aaron?” You murmured. He was a light sleeper, so you knew the sound would most likely wake him up. When it didn’t, you squeezed his hand while murmuring his hand again. His head jerked up, and his tired eyes met yours.

“Y/N.” His voice was filled with so much anxiety, grief, and regret that your heart shattered, as he reached up to ever-so-gently caress your face, then kissed you softly.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.” His words took the broken pieces of your heart and smashed them again with a hammer, until you were sobbing against Aaron’s chest. He held you, and let you cry, becoming painfully aware of his inability to help in times like this. His specialty was catching criminals, not helping people through the trauma, and he entertained the thought of asking JJ to talk to you for a fleeting moment, before deciding that he couldn’t let you out of his sight for the time being.

After a few minutes, you sniffed and lifted your head to wipe away your tears, but Aaron did it before you could. You stared down at your side for a moment, watching the blood that seeped through the bandage every time you took a breath, while you gathered enough courage to speak without your voice wavering.

“I’m sorry. You told me you loved me, and I didn’t say it back, and that could’ve been the last-”

Aaron cut you off with a kiss, murmuring against your lips, “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

You sat in silence with him for a while, leaning your head against his shoulder as he stroked your hair. Eventually, Aaron broke the silence.

“I saw what you did to Ian.”

You choked out a laugh despite the pain that ripped through you while doing so. “Yeah, I left him in pretty bad shape, didn’t I?”

Aaron nodded, smiling. “I’m proud of you. Most people wouldn't be able to escape a serial killer.”

“Well, I’m not most people, Hotchner.”

“That’s for sure.”

+++++

The rest of the team left for D.C. the next morning, but Aaron stayed to drive you home once you were discharged from the hospital. First, however, he dropped you off at the FBI field office to talk with Agent Milenka while he called Jessica to ask if she’d mind watching Jack for a few more days, explaining what happened to you. She practically viewed you as a sister, and after recovering from the initial horror, was happy to agree.

“Hey, Y/N! You’re alive!” Agent MIlenka called brightly as you limped into her office, bumping your crutched on the doorframe.

You chuckled. “Sadly, I am. Aaron told me it was you who figured out Foster had taken me. How’d you know?”

Milenka shrugged. “I may not be a profiler, but I sure as hell can tell when someone’s not right. The guy went almost crazy when you left New York. It just made sense.”

“But if that was his stressor, he would’ve started murdering earlier.”

“We thought at first that finding out about you and Agent Hotchner might’ve been the stressor, but it was impossible to tell when he’d found out, so we switched gears. I fired Ian a few months ago because he’d just been getting worse and worse, and eventually was a liability on cases. The last straw was him failing his psych evaluation. Maybe he felt that losing his FBI job meant he lost his last chance to be with you if he’d been hoping to transfer to your unit someday.”

You nodded slowly. “That’s around the time the kidnappings started, isn’t it?”

Milenka nodded. The two of you stood in her office in comfortable silence for a bit, until she stood up from her desk, crossing the distance between you and engulfing you in a nervous hug. She pulled away fairly quickly, most likely out of fear of hurting you, and awkwardly patted you twice on the shoulder. “Take care, Agent.”

“You too, Milenka.”

You turned to go, but stopped when you heard Milenka call, “One more thing.”

“Yeah?”

“Hotchner’s a good guy. Don’t let that one get away.”

You merely offered her a smile, then strode out of her office as elegantly as one can with a limp.

+++++

The ride home was nice, full of easy discussion, laughter, and a few guilty looks that Aaron snuck at your stitched-up side, wishing he’d listened to you.

You made a joke he didn’t hear, and leaned over in your seat so you could wave a hand in front of his face, calling his name in a sing-song voice.

“Aaron, you good?”

Aaron shook his head slightly, rubbed his eyes, then turned towards you. “Yes?”

“Is something wrong?”

“No, I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

You hummed in affirmation, then turned towards the window. The rest of the drive was spent in comfortable silence, until you arrived at Aaron’s house. You spent practically all of your time there. Honestly, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d stepped foot into your apartment. Aaron helped you into the house and to your shared bed, where you passed out immediately. You vaguely heard a soft whisper of “sleep well” before you were out cold.

Aaron watched you for what felt like hours, feeling pent-up stress and anger roll off of him in waves as he silently stroked your hair, grateful beyond words that you’d lived. You murmured something in your sleep that sounded suspiciously like “I love you,” before rolling over to curl against his chest, nuzzling your head against the crook of his neck. And for the first time in days, he allowed himself a smile. Aaron basked in the rare feeling of relaxation, thinking about how nice it would be to bottle up this feeling and keep it forever, until sleep finally pulled him into its soft clutches. And for once, with you safely nestled into him, he slept easily. He still hadn’t proposed, but that was okay. Now that you were safe, you two had all the time in the world.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #crimnal minds #criminal minds fluff #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner smut #Penelope Garcia #spencer reid #emily prentiss #derek morgan

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ren-therose · 3 years

Note

Greetings and salutations! I just woke from a sleep to send in this request. I was wondering if you could do something with the Criminal Minds crew along the lines of the reader being absolutely exhausted and stressed from a case that they stay late at the office and fall asleep in the bullpen. Im just wondering what everyone’s reactions would be when they all come into work the next day and find the reader like that?

Okay so I was literally about to finish this when all of my work got deleted and I am so freaking frustrated. I hope I can remember everything I wrote and include it. Also, I see the Heathers reference and if you are interested, I might be willing to do some JD or even Rrrrrrrrrronica one-shots.

The BAUs Reaction to Finding You Asleep (BAU!Team X Reader

Word Count: 979 words

Summary: This is how I’d imagine the members of the BAU would find you after you fall asleep in the bullpen.

You basically grew up in the BAU. From the high school seminars presented by former BAU agents, to when you were inducted into the academy, the BAU was another home to you. You were one of Rossi’s top students in his class he would put on for trainees. When you finally passed your training, it was no wonder that Rossi put in the request to have you transferred to the BAU. Unfortunately, as most members of the team would sooner or later encounter, you were targeted by an unsub. Though you ultimately killed him in a standoff, you were left distressed due to the lack of answers you would never get from the unsub.

After you return home, you stay a little later than expected at the office. By midnight, most of your coworkers trickled out. You however, fell asleep in the midst of the paperwork. This is how the team responded:

Hotch: In complete honesty, Hotch probably didn’t leave either. He saw you when he came out early in the morning, and sighed as he realized what he was about to do. He came down into the bullpen and gently woke you from your sleep, and helped you up into his office. He let you lay on his couch, drifting back to sleep, with his jacket wrapped around you. He even let you miss the briefing, and caught you up on the newest case in the jet.

Morgan and Garcia: When Morgan finds you there, he is...awkward to say the least. After a few minutes of watching your crumpled body keeled over on the desk, arms protecting your head like you were in trouble. He called Garcia, and once she told him that he needed to bring you “in his big, strong, chocolatey arms” down to her office, where she could take care of you. Needless to say, you were confused to wake up in the resident BAU hunks arm, which would prompt for a great story in years to come.

Rossi: He doesn’t have the name “Papa Rossi” for no reason. When he comes in, he gently wakes you up and brings you into his office. When he shuts the door and asks you whats wrong, you immediately break down on him, while he holds you in a large brace. When you begin to quiet down, he places you down on the couch to sit, while he makes you a classic italian espresso (after first offering a little whiskey, which you politely decline). You sit and talk until the rest of the team comes in to the facility. Ultimately, he invites you over for dinner to keep talking that night, which you happily accept, knowing how amazing his pasta was.

Emily: Em knows what it is like to not want to return home alone. That’s why when she sees you sleeping at your desk, she wakes you up, and tell you that you should take the day. When you protest and tell her that you didn’t want to go back to your place, she grabs you by both arms and tells you that she isn’t making you go home- you can stay with her until you were ready. You stay at her place for the day until she comes home, where you watch dateline, eat pizza, drink wine and talk about the good and the bad of your lives both in and out of work.

Spencer: Gosh, even though he was boy genius, he was also pretty smitten with you. Not that it was inherently romantic, but he was very protective of you. Slumped over on your desk, your hair crumpled and makeup just slightly smeared, he decided that he wouldn’t bother you. When you did wake up, he was sitting there next to you, flipping through your files and finishing up your paperwork. As you slowly came to your senses, the smell of sweet coffee infiltrated your nose, and you perked up to see him looking over at you, a lopsided smile across his lips. You smiled back, wiggling your eyebrows as you glanced down at the coffee. He pushed the cup towards you, and it was in fact doctored to your liking. He knows what kind of coffee you like.

JJ: JJ comes in and would definitely cover for you. She would stay with you until you woke up, or needed to be woken up. When you wake, she would ask if you have your go bag still, and would move you into a conference room so that you could change. She would even help do your hair and makeup to make sure that by the time the rest of the team got there, they wouldn’t even realize what had happened the night before.

BONUS

Luke: When he walks in and sees you there, he would go back out to his car and go back home. When he comes back, Roxy would be with him. Walking up to you, puppy in tow, Roxy would sit next to you and rest her head on your lap, nudging you with her big nose. When you stirred from your sleep, Roxy got excited and started licking your face. A smile came across your face as Alvez started laughing, happy to see that you were okay. He let Roxy stay with you until he had to take her back before the plane left. You subsequently became his dog sitter when he was out of town.

Gideon: He is not gonna do shit. Sorry. Dad Gideon might come by, drop a book and it startles you, but he won’t talk to you about it until later. When he does, he would apologize for being so abrupt, and would then comfort you because in truth, you can’t help but cry when talking to him. Your guard would completely come down with him and you would allow yourself to cry on him.

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cheshiresense · 5 years

Note

Ok so Im going to take this chance and go wild: GiottoxMukuro + Bad Vongola AU

UM. So, I sort of just sat on this last one cuz what even lmao. I checked AO3 and omg this ship exists??? but there’s like just two fics under it. But alright, here’s my stab at this very random pairing, it doesn’t even quite get all the way to a pairing, but I gave them both page time and at least you gave me something new to try XD Sorry it’s so late.

ALSO YAY I FINISHED ALL TEN

1. Ok so! First thing’s first - how do I stick these two into the same time period? Either full AU or time travel/reincarnation fuckery. Let’s go with reincarnation. Sort of. Where Neo Primo is literally Neo Primo ;)

Tsuna is dead. They’re in the future arc, he’s being forced to take the boss trial, and Hibari suffocates him just a little too long. So Tsuna dies at the feet of his ancestors, and Giotto is forced to witness the death of a fourteen-year-old boy who had never asked for any of this bloodshed but had also never backed down from it, never folded, even under the pressure of so many Vongola bosses. And Giotto is angry. He has spent centuries watching his beloved Vongola become mired in blood and sin, built on an empire of corpses and suffering. He is so sick of it, of not being able to do anything about it, but his latest descendant is dead, and his body is empty of a soul, and in that moment, more than anything else, all Giotto wants is a chance to act, to be something other than helpless, to fix even just a little of what his bloodline has broken.

Will and Flames and desperation are powerful things when combined.

Next thing Giotto knows, he’s opening his eyes to a cold-looking training room, the remains of a cage that killed a fourteen-year-old boy splintering around him, and it barely takes a thought for his Flames to surge up and out and slam the Cloud - Hibari Kyouya - into the far wall with a viciousness Giotto had spent the majority of his first life keeping under wraps. For a split second, he almost kills the Cloud for his gall. A Guardian who could murder his own Sky - however well-intentioned or unknowingly - is no Guardian at all, but then, out of all of the Tenth Generation, as far as Giotto can tell, not a single one of them had had a real bond with Tsuna. The one who’d come closest had been the Mist, but after ten years and the weight of Vongola’s sins on his shoulders, even that connection had dissolved.

If Giotto is honest, the person Tsuna had become ten years later under the crushing pressure of that Sun Arcobaleno and the Vongola had been near unrecognizable compared to the boy Giotto had so admired. But that man is dead, at least for now, dragged under by too many enemies and too many bad decisions, and all that’s left is this younger version, dragged to the future against his will and forced to fight a war of someone else’s making.

Not even that anymore obviously, and all that’s left is Giotto, a bloody legacy to his name and too many regrets to pay for. All he can do is live out Tsuna’s life now and hopefully undo some of the damage Vongola has wrought. Tsuna wouldn’t want him killing this Cloud though, and so Giotto lets him go in the end. Hibari gets to his feet, something bloodthirsty and thrilled gleaming in his eyes, completely ignorant of the fact that he’d killed his Sky, and all Giotto can think as he recalls the way Tsuna had always had to bribe this man for him to even consider helping is how Alaude must be rolling in his grave.

“I’m done,” He says instead, slicing a cool look around the room, and then he walks out, back to his room. Nobody stops him, but Giotto wouldn’t have stopped him either, with the shadow of his Flames licking across the concrete floor.

2. Giotto does his duty. Ten years in the future is far too late to really change anything significant, so the faster he takes care of business here, the sooner they can all go home. In the meantime, it amuses him - in a funny world-burning sort of way - how none of Tsuna’s friends seems to realize anything is wrong, that the boy they profess their loyalty to is gone, and his body has been usurped by an interloper. Giotto considers himself a decent enough actor, but for a bunch of Flame-actives with Vongola rings on their fingers and Guardian titles to their names, they’re a rather oblivious lot.

(All of Tsuna’s past and present and future sits in his memories now though, and Giotto can’t say he’s terribly surprised. The person these children wanted to follow was never actually the boy Tsuna had been, not entirely. They pay attention to the parts of him that they like, and ignore the rest like they don’t exist. It infuriates Giotto, because Tsuna deserved better, but Tsuna is dead, and even if Giotto has every intention of at the very least demoting them from their Guardian positions once they’re finished here, he cannot truly harm these children Tsuna had called friends.)

So he does his duty, fights the battles people want him to fight, and smiles blandly back in the face of Reborn’s suspicious glances. That hitman at least can sense something is off, if only because his student no longer cringes or screams, but no one save the Vongola bosses knows the details of what happens in the Vongola Trial, and it’s easy enough to balance Reborn’s misgivings with that.

It’s fun though, messing with the pseudo-baby. The last time Reborn tried to shoot him awake in the morning, Giotto had set the entire room on fire and ended up singeing off Reborn’s sideburns. The resulting training session had been grueling, but it had been worth finally getting back at the man first responsible for more or less browbeating Tsuna into obedience.

Pettiness aside, Giotto does put effort into training. Tsuna’s body is in decent shape, but it could be even better, so Giotto does his best to make it so. The weapons of the future are something of a marvel too, and he smiles indulgently at the full-grown wing-adorned flame-pelted Leone di Cieli that gracefully leaps out to greet him, but in the privacy of his rooms, he lets his Flames swirl free and summons the phoenix that had been his constant companion in his first life, the soul of his Flames, his will made sentient.

“Natsu,” He names the lion, after Tsuna, and welcomes Persephone home as she does a sweep of his bedroom before landing light and delicate on his shoulder, the way she’d always done in battle.

The looks on everyone’s faces when they see her with him is enough to make Giotto smile for the next week.

3. It becomes clear soon enough that they’re going to need all hands on deck for the final confrontation against Millefiore, but even before that, Giotto begins asking some pointed questions that Tsuna had thought but hadn’t quite been brave enough to ask.

“When are we getting my Mist out of Vendicare?” He enquires one night over dinner, and smiles pleasantly as everyone freezes. “We require all the aid we can get, yes? And Mukuro has always been strong.”

“Jyuudaime!” Hayato is the first to burst out, chair skidding back with how emphatically he stands up. “We don’t need that bastard!” Giotto looks at him, not a twitch in his expression, impenetrable as ice even as he keeps his features soft, and Hayato falters. “Or- Or even if we do, he can just possess Dokuro! He can’t be trusted if we let him out!”

Giotto stirs more sugar into his coffee - rich and sweet, gave G a minor aneurysm every time he saw it - just the way he likes it. “So we make him serve, and offer nothing in return?”

Giotto waits out the confused spluttering around him. Reborn is drilling holes into the side of his head but he pays the baby no mind.

“He has been imprisoned for ten years,” Giotto continues in mild tones. “And has remained loyal all this time, si?” He glances briefly at Chrome, the younger one, who stares back, meek and mute. She is loyal to Mukuro above all others, and it would’ve been so very easy for him to influence her into betraying Vongola - betraying Tsuna - anytime.

That he hadn’t, in all this time, is… something. It’s something. The lingering threads of a frayed potential bond. The stubborn refusal to give up something he’d once perhaps considered his. A promise once given - keep my people safe and you will have my allegiance - and never broken, not by Mukuro.

People have often remarked on how similar the First and Tenth Generations are. Personally, Giotto has never seen two sets of people so different.

“I wish to free him,” He says at last, over the voices of those trying to convince him otherwise. “Loyalty deserves loyalty returned. Whatever else he used to be, he has bled in my service for ten years. Surely that is enough to justify his release?”

It is not a question, and everyone knows it. Reborn is all but glaring now. He doesn’t like this new Tsuna who does not cower even in the face of his bullets.

Giotto is spiteful enough to enjoy every moment of it.

It is Takeshi who relents first. “Okay,” He says, all easy agreement and assessing eyes, and maybe this one at least is not so far removed from Ugetsu’s blood after all. “But how are we gonna do that? Vendicare’s hard to break into, right?”

Hayato - the only mafia-raised of the lot - looks positively horrified. “It’s not hard, Baseball Freak, it’s impossible!”

“But Mukuro already broke out twice, didn’t he?”

“Yes,” Giotto interjects, smiling at Takeshi, who preens a little under the attention and is in some ways possibly the most insane of them all. Giotto does have a fondness for those who consider laws as guidelines at best. “So, I suppose we need a Mist.” He takes a gulp of his coffee. “The Varia has a new one these days, don’t they?”

Three conferences, five one-sided shouting matches, and a hefty sum of money transferred over to the Varia accounts later, Giotto has secured Xanxus’ partly baffled, mostly irritated agreement for Fran’s services. Fran turns out to be a rather… precocious young man, but he has Mist Flames and skills that almost rival Mukuro’s, and Giotto is relatively content to leave the breakout to him.

His confidence is not misplaced. Days and half a dozen more battles later, with Byakuran grandstanding across from him, Giotto’s entire ill-fitted, misfit Family is gathered, and the First Generation appears at Giotto’s silent command to unseal the Vongola rings.

(All of them know what he is, the soul peering out from behind Tsuna’s eyes. But in this one moment, not even Daemon gives him away, and Giotto is free to finally unleash his carefully controlled wrath on the Family that had decimated his.)

Millefiore doesn’t stand a chance.

4. “You are not Sawada Tsunayoshi,” Mukuro - the older one - says in deceptively light tones as he joins Giotto on the balcony. It’s late, the night before they would all finally return to the past, and the two of them are probably the only ones still awake.

“No,” Giotto confirms, because there’s no hiding it from this man. “I’m afraid Sawada Tsunayoshi perished in Kyouya’s Box Weapon when he and Reborn attempted to force a Vongola Trial.”

Mukuro, staring out at the sprawling woods before them, does not visibly react, does not even move. For a moment, it doesn’t even seem like he’s breathing, and that’s what gives him away.

Giotto does not say he is sorry. He is, for this, and for too many other things to list, but whatever connection had formed between Tsuna and his Mist had been lost a long time ago, and sorry only sounds trite in the face of such a travesty. The only reason Mukuro had never drifted away, Giotto suspects, was because the Mist had refused to let go. Mukuro himself would never admit it, perhaps never even acknowledge it to himself, but if there was one thing Giotto had always envied Tsuna for, it was his ability to earn a Mist’s devotion so completely.

(And so it had hurt all the more to watch the years go by as Tsuna allowed Vongola to convince him to leave Mukuro in Vendicare. Hurt most of all to realize, one day, that Tsuna no longer cared so long as Mukuro continued reporting in and doing as he was told.)

“What will you do with my younger self?” Mukuro eventually asks, carefully void of every emotion save for the thinnest veneer of detached interest.

“Free him,” Giotto replies promptly, seeing no need for word games here. Reborn had tried to interrogate him about his Vongola Trial, and Giotto had given him every answer but a straight one. It had been highly entertaining. “If he wishes, he will have a place in my Famiglia. If he does not, then I will ensure he is able to start a new life elsewhere with his people, without Vongola dogging their every step.” He pauses, absently considering his hands, more solid than they’ve been in four hundred years. “Even Tsunayoshi’s fear of Reborn was not enough to stop him from asking repeatedly after you. This is the least I can do for your younger self when Tsunayoshi worried about him so often.”

Mukuro scoffs, a hollow puff of air that fades to nothing. “Had he a few more years in him, you would’ve had nothing to concern yourself with.”

Giotto inclines his head in acknowledgement but says nothing more. There is probably no one who knew Tsuna - who fought him and lost to him and understood him - more than Mukuro. The Mist doesn’t need Giotto expounding on the rise and fall of one of the brightest and most short-lived Skies the world would ever see.

“You will not tell the others about me?” Giotto asks instead, more curious than any kind of anxious about it.

Mukuro tips a mocking facsimile of a smile in his direction, looking him straight-on for the first time since his arrival. “What business is it of mine, if Vongola wishes to destroy itself?”

Giotto half-smiles, half-grimaces. He supposes this is hardly a surprise either; it was never Vongola that Mukuro swore unspoken fealty to.

So instead, he reaches out, gently catching one of Mukuro’s hands in his own and knowing he can only because Mukuro allows it. Mismatched eyes watch him like a hawk, a derisive curl on his lips that freezes when Giotto presses the flickering heat of a piece of Sky Flame into his palm.

Then he steps back, once, twice, enough room to sketch an esoteric bow, too formal for this age but recognizable enough here and now if Mukuro’s sharp intake of breath is anything to go by.

Gratitude. Apology. And a dissolution of debt and duty between Guardian and Sky.

If Mukuro so wishes, even after Giotto is gone, the shard of Sky will ensure a clean break from Vongola, and not even Sawada Tsunayoshi will be able to track his former Guardian down. It is all Giotto can offer him.

He straightens, glancing at the piece of Sky now settled into the shimmering form of a phoenix feather. A new life, if Mukuro wants it.

He meets the Mist’s gaze. Mukuro is the first to look away, fingers curling around the feather, eyes on the horizon, and he doesn’t speak again.

Giotto nods, takes his leave, and he does not see the Mist again, not this version at least. Once time straightens itself out, the adult Tsuna of this universe will return, and while Millefiore is no longer a threat, Vongola - and its Decimo - will still be the same stagnant bloodstained mess.

There is nothing Giotto can do about that, but at the back of his mind, he wonders if it wouldn’t have been better after all to have let Millefiore wipe Vongola out.

5. Later, much later, after a jailbreak and Daemon and a broken curse, Giotto and his Guardians - still no bonds, but he can’t seem to find a good time to get rid of them, so maybe instead of that, he can educate them to be better - sit down for a Family dinner at the most upscale banquet hall Namimori has to offer, with the Ninth and his men, the CEDEF and even Varia. They’re in public so everyone has their law-abiding citizen face on, but (a redo of) the Inheritance Ceremony is imminent, and Timoteo smiles, sly and pleased that all the pieces have finally fallen into place. He waves Giotto into the seat on his immediate right and doesn’t even question how very little Giotto resembles Tsuna these days, ascribing the changes to Reborn’s training and recent battles and growing up, and looking no further than that.

The food is good, Italian but cooked by the best chefs on Vongola payroll. Giotto stares Kyouya into grudging silence over the fare, and then he focuses on chatting amicably with Timoteo, weaving smooth flattery into casual but attentive conversation the way he’d learned to do a lifetime ago.

Giotto watched Timoteo grow up. There is no skeleton in his closet that Giotto did not witness him stashing away. But he is old and past his prime and he will soon learn that his successor is not as easy to control as he’d hoped, as he thinks, so Giotto can smile back now and give him his momentary triumph, smile and sip his wine and not let his eyes linger on every bite of food Timoteo takes.

During a lull in the conversation, he turns and catches Mukuro’s eye. His Mist is seated beside his female counterpart, all the way at the end of the line, farthest from his Sky to any outsider’s eye. But Mukuro smirks back from behind his cloth napkin, and as the Nono’s dessert is carried in, the faint twist of Mist Flames - unnoticed by all except two - darts into the panna cotta.

Timoteo eats his fill, compliments the chef, beams at Giotto’s gently filial fussing again like the kindly grandfather he excels at pretending to be, and nobody thinks to question how masterfully Giotto draws all attention to himself and his rowdier Guardians, never letting the generally jovial mood falter, his Sky Flames a subtle pulsing encouragement beneath it all to distract them from the knife at their backs.

The whole affair is a success. At the very least, nobody threw any food, no fights broke out, and no one lost their tempers. It almost feels like a miracle.

They part ways in groups, and to their credit, Hayato and Kyouya only try to kill each other after the elder Vongola party is gone. It doesn’t take long for Ryouhei to join in, and at a glance from Mukuro, Chrome scoops Lambo up and picks up her pace to catch up to a laughing Takeshi.

Mukuro falls into step beside Giotto. Giotto had asked, after the Arcobaleno business was finally over, if Mukuro would stay. Mukuro had asked what Giotto would offer if he did.

“A place in my Family, for you and yours,” Giotto had sworn. “And a hand in toppling the Vongola Empire once and for all.”

Mukuro had smiled, ten years’ worth of another world’s memories behind it, and six lives’ worth of suffering driving his answer.

“Tsunayoshi would never have chosen this method,” Mukuro says now, voice pitched low but as idly as if he were commenting on the weather.

Giotto smiles, grim and long past the point of any return.

Tsuna was his favourite. He reminded Giotto of the man he used to be, when Vongola was still a goal wrapped in optimism and determination, before they’d become embroiled in the mafia and Giotto had spent the next four hundred years after his death watching his life’s work build itself a throne of corpses.

Tsuna was his favourite, but he was also an ideal Giotto won’t ever be again, and cannot be if he truly wants to see this iteration of Vongola dead in his second lifetime. Tsuna would’ve been eaten alive by Vongola - Giotto had seen an entire future’s worth of proof of that.

“I am not Tsunayoshi,” Giotto says, and it is another regret he will have to carry, but their world is neither kind nor fair, and Tsuna as he was would never have survived it.

Mukuro studies him, a thoughtful tilt to his head, and something like fascination glitters in his eyes. “No, you are not,” He agrees. “But that isn’t necessarily a bad thing.”

Giotto glances at him, then ahead, at children who had almost killed and been almost killed mere days ago, now roughhousing amongst themselves. “The world could do with more Tsunayoshis.”

“The world needs more of you,” Mukuro retorts just as swiftly, a sardonic sort of amusement in his smirk. “In that other future, Tsunayoshi proved beyond a doubt that everything he promised, he couldn’t keep, didn’t he? And yet here you are, Vongola Primo, poisoning your enemies over dinner, and just yesterday you had me hide you while you met with Gesso and Simon and Giglio Nero in private. You certainly don’t waste any time.” His smirk widens. “If Vongola isn’t careful, you’ll turn half of Europe against the older generation before they realize it.”

Giotto hums and doesn’t deny any of it. “You would be willing to aid me though?”

Mukuro arches an eyebrow, and his right eye flickers briefly with Mist Flames. “Have I not been doing so already?”

Giotto nods. “Yes, and I am grateful. But lending a hand now is not the same as devoting at least the next ten years of your life to a goal most would consider impossible. And I am not Tsunayoshi.”

Mukuro’s steps slow, then stop entirely. Giotto blinks and halts as well, half-turning.

“Does that matter so much to you?” Mukuro asks, peering at him with surprisingly genuine puzzlement. “Do you think it matters so much to me? That you are not Tsunayoshi?”

Giotto half-shrugs, and Mukuro shakes his head. “Tsunayoshi had a heart that I will never fully understand,” He says, blunt in a way he almost never is. “He was naive and foolish, hopeful and soft, and it made him as weak as it made him strong. I could trust him to never turn on Chrome or Ken or Chikusa, even if they or I tested his tolerance, but by that same logic, I could never have trusted him to stand firm against Vongola’s ideals, no matter what he proclaimed. And I was right, wasn’t I? In the end, Vongola destroyed him, and he became one of them.”

He pauses, his gaze sliding away, hands coming together to twist one of the rings on his fingers. Then he looks back at Giotto, and his next smirk is equal parts challenge and approval. “You though. You have witnessed the results of letting your previous Mist Guardian walk free, and spent years watching your descendants commit atrocities in the name of strengthening your organization. If I were to promise you my loyalty, and then betray you sometime down the road, you would slit my throat yourself. But at the same time, at least I know - you are both ruthless enough and determined enough to see your objectives through to the end, with a conviction that’s centuries in the making. The current Vongola would have to kill you to stop you.” His right eye flares indigo again. “So I suppose that is where I come in.”

Up ahead, the others turn a corner, still bickering. Giotto thinks Takeshi has probably noticed that he and Mukuro have fallen behind, and of course Chrome knows, but neither of them stops to wait either.

Mukuro steps back, once, twice, and Giotto’s eyes widen as the Mist lifts a hand to brush over the earring he hasn’t stopped wearing since he got it. And then… well.

The Mukuro from the future must’ve known how because this Mukuro doesn’t even look awkward as he drops to one knee and bows his head, just a dip, slow enough to look deliberate, proud enough to meet Giotto’s gaze again afterwards.

“You asked for ten years, Neo Primo,” Mukuro announces. “So, very well, I will pledge you ten years of my life, for you to use as you see fit, so long as you keep your word. We can revisit this in a decade, but for the next ten years, I will make you untouchable to your enemies and sow discord amongst them in your name.” He smiles and it’s a mad and bloodthirsty thing, the same furious hateful beast he’d aimed at Daemon Spade when he’d sought to rip Chrome from Mukuro’s side. “And should the worst come to pass and I go the way of my predecessor, may my life be forfeit at your hands.”

He reaches up, catches Giotto’s hand in his own, and his red eye glows as orange and indigo burst into existence between their fingers, a blaze of light under the night sky as they twine together, fierce and unyielding and true.

They both gasp from the surge of power that rushes through them as the Guardian bond snaps into place, the first one Giotto will ever have in this body, the first one in over four hundred years, a core of Flame that promises a home, something Daemon had never been able to give him, and Giotto doesn’t even think before he’s yanking Mukuro to his feet and reeling him close.

Tsuna had been short for his age so Giotto isn’t quite eye-level with his new Mist, but it hardly matters when he curls a near-bruising grip along Mukuro’s jaw and sees the same hunger and possessiveness he feels reflected in the illusionist’s eyes.

“A Guardian bond is not something I take lightly,” Giotto murmurs, and he knows even without a mirror that his own Flames are burning in his eyes. “You are mine now, and I do not share. In ten years, you will pledge another ten, and another ten after that, and any who dare to try and take you from me, I would run rivers red with their lifeblood.”

(These oaths are old, old and binding and near-forgotten, bastardized ten ways to Sunday but still echoing of power, and even in Giotto’s time, only G and Ugetsu had sworn them. That his new reign would begin with one, when as far as Giotto knows, none have spoken them in centuries - perhaps it speaks of the dawn of a new age.)

Mukuro inhales shakily, not at all prepared for the sheer depth and intensity of a true Flame bond. But the grip he has on Giotto’s wrist is just as tight as Giotto’s, and it only takes him another breath to regain his bearings.

“As you Will it, Giotto,” Mukuro murmurs, and it crackles over Giotto’s skin. No one has spoken his name since his resurrection.

The bond settles between them, calm now but no less potent. Giotto lets go, tickling a tongue of Sun-tinted Sky Flame along Mukuro’s skin to soothe the sting left behind. Mukuro only huffs a breath of laughter, gaze still unwavering on Giotto’s face.

“Well then,” The Mist - Giotto’s Mist - smiles, quieter, more serene, like a glass-spun secret cloaked in shadow, but exultantly bright all the same. “Long live the new King. May your reign be long and prosperous.”

#khr #headcanon meme: answered #giotto #rokudo mukuro #G69 #vongola famiglia #headcanon #there we go g69 wow i didn't think i could do it #lmfao they're both prob way ooc #but that's how it came out

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kpoptrashibnida · 5 years

Text

Enough Pt. 10

A/N: What is up my peeps! Here is part 10, I hope you guys enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed/wanted! Happy Reading!

WARNINGS: 18+, SMUT

Chanyeol knew that what he was doing was borderline insane. He didn’t understand it himself, really. It was as if something possessed his body and took over his normally cool and collected self. He felt powerless to his impulse, the need to know the information he wanted overpowered his sense of what’s right and what’s wrong. But then again, he felt like he didn’t know how to properly differentiate from the two. He often knew what was right but didn’t always do it.

‘It’s okay to look. It’s for research purposes. I just want to see what she is up to. There’s nothing wrong with that…’ Chanyeol thought as he willed himself to open up his Instagram app and type your name in the search box. He groaned in frustration as thousands of pages popped up with similar names to yours. When you two were hooking up he never added you in any of his social media accounts. He figured that it would make things less complicated if you weren’t there to see all the posts he would like and comment on or get tagged in. He didn’t want anything messy or complicated and that’s why he used to be fine with not having you on his social media.

After weeks of not hearing from you or being able to get into contact with you, he finally decided to hit rock bottom and look you up online. The only problem is that it seemed like everyone and their mother had the same name as you. Trying to find your profile was going to be a wild goose chase, so he went on Suho’s instagram to look up Mina and from there to look for you. Thankfully that plan worked perfectly because he was able to find you right away in Mina’s followers list. He was very relieved when he saw that your page was public, giving him access to your photos without having to follow you. If your account had been private, he knew he was not going to add you because he was too prideful.

Your instagram feed was pretty safe; it consisted of photos of food, landscapes, photos of you and Mina and a few cute selfies. There was a photo that caught his attention. At first sight it only looked like a photo of a coffee cup at a cafe, but once he clicked on the photo and zoomed in, he could see the corner of a face that appeared to be of a man. There was no indication on the caption that you were with anyone in particular and no one was tagged. The caption read ‘it’s always coffee o’clock’. Which meant nothing because you were obsessed with coffee. The person in the photo could be a guy but it could also be a girl with a short hair style. Or it could be a coworker and nothing else.

‘No need to freak out.’ Chanyeol thought, ‘it’s probably nothing. She is probably too busy to date anyway.’

He couldn’t help himself and clicked on the comments to see what people wrote. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary… until he saw the one comment.

Itsminakim: drink water hoe ;p

Itssuhokim: im surprised you don’t have kidney failure by now

Gldnboiijk: noona! I miss getting you coffee! Plz come back to seoul. I miss you >.<

Jjh_2019: i’m glad i met the person that loves coffee as much as i do :D

The last comment rubbed Chanyeol the wrong way even though it wasn’t necessarily a flirty or incriminating comment. Something about it just bothered Chanyeol and he couldn’t understand why. He clicked on the profile and was annoyed at the fact that this person’s profile was private. All he could see what that his name is Jung Jaehyun and that he works for Friends Corp as well. He clearly is one of your coworkers, and hopefully nothing else. Chanyeol finally sighed and put his phone away, deciding that he did enough digging for one day. You seemed to be having a good time in New York and he should be happy for you. And he was, he just hoped he could talk to you. He had been busy at work producing music for a multitude of artists, his songs actually being very successful. He was elated at the fact that he had an actual career now doing something that he loved and it was going well for him now.

He finally felt like he was getting his life together and he wanted to keep improving as a person. He wanted to be someone that you would be proud of and would be willing to give him a second chance. You were almost halfway through your year-long project contract and he was really hoping he could get in touch with you by the time you got back. Suho was still being a hardass and not budging on giving him any more information about you. It sucked that even his close friend didn’t believe that he could change and be more serious about his relationships.

“Mr. Park.” Jihyo said as she knocked on his office door.

“Yes, come in.” He said, putting his phone away in his drawer.

“Ms. Kim is here with her manager. They’re in the conference room and they’re ready to start on the new single.” Jihyo informed, holding the door open for Chanyeol.

“Thank you Jihyo.” He followed her out the door and to the conference room.

‘No time to focus on those things. It’s time to focus on work and grind.’ He thought, putting on a smile on his face as he walked into the conference room, ready to tackle a new project.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

After a long week of work you were glad to finally be able to relax and enjoy your time off. The pop-up project was halfway completed and it was crunch time. You were busy setting up meetings with local newspapers, magazines, tv stations and online blogs. You had endless conference calls and meetings. What helped you stay sane was working with your three favorite boys, endless cups of coffee and the foot massages Jaehyun would give you after long days of meetings and presentations.

You filled up your bath with lavender salts and turned on some relaxing music. You started to undress and you slowly sat down on the tub, letting out a low groan at the feeling of the hot water relaxing your muscles.

“I brought that wine. Still want it?” Jaehyn asked as he walked into your bathroom with two glasses of wine.

“Yes please.” You sat up and excitedly grabbed the wine glass form Jaehyun.

He sat down on a stool you had in your bathroom and sipped on his wine with a smile on his face as he watched you relax as you drink your wine. He eyes the wet skin of your chest and looks away before his thoughts get too carried away. Ever since you two took your relationship to the next level, it was something you did almost on a daily basis. Jaehyun basically moved into your apartment because he mostly stayed at your place now. You’d go to work together, go home together, ate dinner together and fall asleep in each others arms after some passionate lovemaking. He already had some clothes at your place, occupying a small part of your closet. Your bathroom vanity also had his hair products, toothbrush and other personal items. Jaehyun was very excited about the way your relationship was going and he hoped it kept getting better.

“So are you just going to sit there and stare off into space or are you going to join me?” You asked, amused at Jaehyun’s spaced out expression. You figured he was also very tired from the long work week and you thought he might need to relax as well.

“You want me to join you? I don’t want to interfere with your relaxing bath.” He said, taking your empty glass away and putting it on the sink.

“You won’t. Come in and relax with me.” You said with a sly smile, moving your hand in the water and making waves.

“Well if you insist.” He said with a chuckle. He quickly undressed and he was in his naked glory before you knew it. You gulped and looked away as he walked towards the tub. You don’t know why you got so shy all of a sudden. You have seen him naked multiple times but you couldn’t help the way your body reacts to him. You didn’t want to push him to anything because you were both tired, but you were insatiable when it came to Jaehyun.

He got in behind you and tried to adjust himself in the small space. You tried to wiggle your body away from him so he had more space to get comfortable in but you were stopped by his hands on your hips.

“Babe, unless you want me to have a problem, I’m going to need you to stop moving.” He bit out, trying to keep his growing erection away from your body.

“Sorry.” You said sheepishly, relaxing your body against his and placing your hands on top of his as they rested on your waist.

You hum in contentment as your body started to relax, enjoying the warmth of the water and the heat that was radiating off Jaehyun’s body. He was enjoying having you in his arms but the way the water moved around him and your soft body on full display for him was making his body react in a carnal manner. He was trying hard not to focus on it, but his body had a mind of his own. You felt his erection press against your lower back and you tried to hold back the smile that was trying to escape. Jaehyun has very high stamina and you honestly are not complaining about it. It was so cute how he made no move to relieve himself of his needs and it warms your heart just how considerate he is of you and your needs. However, when it came to Jaehyun, you were very insatiable. He could take you over and over, day after day and you would not get tired of it. Deciding to put an end to both of your misery you turn around as best as you could in the cramped space of the tub, facing Jaehyun with a sly smile on your face.

“What are you doing?” He asked with an amused smile on his face.

“I wanna kiss you.” You tried to hover above him and he adjusted himself so you could slip your thighs around him easier.

You leaned in to kiss him, your chest pressed up against him sensually with the way the water caressed both your bodies. Jaehyun kissed you back with fervor, allowing his hands to roam your hips and thighs, eventually making it to your ass and squeezing slightly. His actions made you moan into his mouth which fueled the need in him. His erection was pressing against your thigh and you couldn’t take it anymore. You were already soaking wet and you just needed Jaehyun in you. Breaking the kiss, you widen your stance even further and move up Jaehyun’s body, aligning your center with his hard cock. He guides your hips as you sink down on him, groans leaving both your mouths as you feel yourself being stretched out by his thick cock.

“You feel so good.” You pant against his neck, the stimulation of the water and his dick was overwhelming.

“I can’t get enough of you baby.” Jaehyun grunted, snapping his hips upward as he pounded into you.

You moaned at the feeling, not really worried at the fact that water was splashing everywhere and making a mess. You were more occupied with what was going on between your thighs.

“Fuck baby, I think I’m going to cum.” Jaehyun panted, throwing his head back with a low moan as you moved yourself up and down on his cock, squeezing your walls around him.

After a few more thrusts you felt yourself come undone, a low moan escaping your lips and you shuddered on top of Jaehyun. Your pussy clenching around him is what finally brought him to his climax, both of you panting and holding each other in the blissful aftermath. You pulled away slightly to look at Jaehyun and you couldn’t help but smile at him, leaning in to kiss him with ernest. The kiss was electrifying and soon the kiss became more intense and urgent.

You laid on your bed face down with nothing on but your fluffy bathrobe. Your mind and body were exhausted and all you wanted to do was sleep even though your stomach was rumbling loudly. After your session in the bathtub with Jaehyun, he gave you one more orgasm in the bathtub and another one in the shower. By the time you were out of the shower you were clean and exhausted. Jaehyun had to help you into your robe and carry you to the bed because your legs felt like jelly and they weren’t functioning properly. Once he left you on the bed, he got dressed and left to the kitchen. You were finally dozing off when you heard the bedroom door open, making you open one eye to see Jaehyun come in with a pizza box in hand.

“Hey babe, I have dinner. You should eat something before you sleep, you had a rough day.” He said, slyly putting emphasis on the word rough.

You rolled your eyes and sat up to sit at the head of the bed, happily accepting the plate that Jaehyun hands over. He also brought you some ginger ale and set it down on the night stand beside you. He turned on the tv to put on your favorite tv show while you ate. You felt blissfully happy like this, next to Jaehyun and in your home. Once you were done eating and brushed your teeth, you fell asleep almost instantly wrapped in Jaehyun’s arms.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

It was Sunday night and you were folding laundry while watching TV; Jahyun had gone to get some Chinese food and you were getting everything ready for your work week. You were in the middle of hanging some skirts when your phone went off. You saw that it was Mina and instantly went to pick it up, happy to hear from your best friend.

“Mina! How are you?” You answered excitedly, making her chuckle.

“Dang girl, you’re that happy to hear from me?” She said, amused at your tone.

“I’m always happy to hear from you silly.” You said as you walked to the laundry room, placing the last clean load into the dryer.

“You’re so cute! Well I am calling you because I have some news…” Mina trailed off, making you curious and slightly nervous.

“Are you okay?” You asked instantly, worried that there was something wrong.

“Yes, I’m fine. Better than fine actually, I’m great. I wanted to call and tell you the news… I’m pregnant!” She said excitedly, a surprised gasp leaving your mouth.

“Oh my god? Really? How far along are you?” You asked, feeling the tears well up in your eyes. You were going to be an aunt!

“I am 4 weeks along. We wanted to wait until the first trimester was over before we told the news to anyone. But now that the doctor gave us the all clear and everything looks good, we decided to break out the good news!” Mina sounded so excited as she explained the situation.

You were so immersed in your conversation you didn’t even notice Jaehyun walk in to the apartment. He heard your excited chatter and figured you were on the phone with Mina. You only ever got that animated talking to her. He placed the bags of food on the counter and sat on the stool, patiently waiting for your call to end.

“I am so beyond happy for you and Suho. As if you guys couldn’t be the most perfect couple, now you’re going to be the most perfect parents. Please send me as many updates! Link my calendar with yours so I know when you have your doctors appointments.” You said sternly, making Mina laugh.

“Oh my god and I thought Suho was bad, you’re worse! But of course I am going to keep you updated on everything. You’ll get sick of me.” She giggled playfully, making you roll your eyes at her antics.

“I could never get sick of you. I wish I could be there with you.” You whispered the last part, not trusting your voice at that moment. Tears threatened to escape but you willed them back, not wanting to make her worry.

But of course, Mina wasn’t your best friend just in title, she knows you better than you know yourself.

“Don’t cry bitch, you’re going to make me cry.” She chastised, voice sounding wobbly as well.

Before you could say anything else, you heard a distant and muffled ‘hey!’, before Mina could continue.

“Right! Sorry babe! Suho wants me to stop cursing. He says that the baby can hear and he wants me to not say bad words around the baby once it’s born. It’s so hard though!” She whined, making you laugh.

“He’s got a point.” You agreed, making her whine at you because you are her best friend and you should be on her side, not her husbands.

“Alright babe, I have to get going. I just wanted to call you to let you know of the newest member of the Kim family. I have to call my mom and my sister before it gets too late.” She rambled, speaking faster than normal. Those pregnancy hormones are no joke.

“You haven’t told your sister or your mom?” You asked in disbelief.

“Of course not. I called you first.” She said in a nonchalant voice.

“Aww you do love me!” You teased, knowing how much Mina hates when you do that.

“Okay, I’m hanging up now. Love you.” She says, blowing a kiss into the receiver.

“Love you too.” You reply, hanging up the call.

“Everything okay?” You jumped when you heard Jaehyun’s voice behind you.

“You startled me!” You said in a breathless laugh, your hand on your chest as if to stop the erratic beating of your heart.

“Sorry babe, you were really into your conversation and I didn’t want to interrupt.” He said as he made his way towards you, snaking his arms around your waist to bring you close to him and press a soft kiss on your forehead.

“It’s okay.” You said, standing on your toes to give him a small peck on the lips.

“So what was your call about?” He inquired as you both made your way to the kitchen, where the forgotten food was.

“Mina called me to tell me she is pregnant.” You said with a smile, taking your food boxes out of the bag.

“That’s amazing! But how come you look a little down?” He asked, noticing that you didn’t seem as excited as you were earlier when you were talking to Mina.

“Well, it’s just that I always thought I’d be there with Mina during her pregnancy. To go with her to her doctor’s appointments, to help her set up the nursery, go shopping for baby clothes… and I’m going to miss out on a lot of that.” You explained, sniffling away the tears that threatened to come out again.

Jaehyun came over to your side and wrapped his arms around you in a comforting hug, rubbing slow circles on your back.

“I understand that you are upset. But the project will be over before she’s due. You’ll be able to see her then.” He said with a soft smile, hoping his words will cheer you up.

“You’re right babe.” You replied, feeling a little better about the whole situation.

Later that night as you lay in bed, you were feeling anxious again. This time it wasn’t about Mina’s pregnancy, but about the end of this year long project. Once it was over, you were going to go back to Seoul. You couldn’t move to the states and you didn’t even know what was going to happen to Jaehyun once the project was over. Your guess is that he is staying in New York because he was already stationed here before the project started. You did not want to think about what would happen to your relationship, but it was hard to ignore the reality of it all. Jaehyun truly was the best guy you have ever been with and you did not want that to end. You didn’t even know what Jaehyun was going to want to do; maybe long distance is not something he is into. You tossed and turned that night with a heavy feeling in your chest and a cold empty spot next to you in bed.

“Damn noona, you okay?” Mark asked as you walked into your office, he handed you a coffee cup and you sat down and powered on your computer.

“I feel like hell.” You said, sipping your coffee and closing your eyes contentedly.

“No offense noona but you look like hell too.” He giggled at your glare and sat down on the chair in front of you.

“Thanks. Glad to know the ten minutes I spent this morning trying to look decent was a complete waste of time.” You said sarcastically.

“I’m just messing with you. By the way, the meeting is in fifteen minutes.” He reminded you, making you groan out in misery. You did not feel like going to this meeting. You just wanted to be holed up in your office and not interact with anyone. Well, maybe just interact with one person.

“Okay, I’ll be there shortly. Do you have the revised briefing packets?” You asked, mentally preparing yourself for your day.

“Yes! I made all the copies and they’re ready to go.” He informs, standing up to leave your office.

“Thanks, I’ll see you in ten.” You said, waving goodbye and focusing on your computer screen.

You brought up your calendar and email, ready to see your work load for the day. A knock caught your attention and you growled lowly before telling the person to enter.

“Hey babe, just wanted to say hello this morning.” Jaehyun said as he walked in your office.

“Oh, hi honey. I didn’t know it was you.” You said as you got up from your desk and made your way to him.

“Are you okay? You look a bit tired.” He said with concern, eyes scanning your face.

You frowned at him, giving him your best pouty face. “I couldn’t sleep last night.” You informed, draping your arms around his shoulders.

“Aww you couldn’t sleep without me there?” He teased, giving your nose a peck. You didn’t say anything, you just lay your head on his shoulder and hug him silently. This made Jaehyun a little worried since you weren’t normally like this.

“Hey, are you sure you’re okay? Wanna talk about it?” He whispered, hugging you tighter to him.

You hummed against his shoulder and turned your face to place a small kiss on his neck. He tilted his head towards you to give you a peck on your cheek, but you moved your head at that time and connected your lips with his. He kissed you slowly and sweetly but you deepen the kiss, pulling him closer to you. Jaehyun is a bit surprised, since you usually try to not get too physical at work. However he doesn’t pull away or try to slow you down. He wraps his arms around your waist and brings you closer to him, the kiss getting deeper.

“Ahem, sorry to interrupt but the meeting is starting in five…” Johnny said from tour doorway, you and Jaehyun jumping away from each other the second Johnny cleared his throat.

“Thank you Jon.” Jaehyun said, clearing his throat a couple times.

“Welcome. Oh! And just a tip, close the door next time.” He rolled his eyes and he walked towards the conference room.

“Okay, well after that humiliating bit, we should get going to the conference room.” He said, gently wiping your lips with his thumb.

“At least it was him and not one of the receptionists.” You said with a shudder, making Jaehyun laugh as he grabbed your hand and dragged you over to the conference room.

Everyone got settled into their assigned seats, waiting for the head project manager to arrive. Mark has already placed a copy of the briefing packet in front of every seat and was happily seated in the back row, ready to take as many notes as needed.

The room quieted down when Park Jeongsu, the project manager, entered the room and took his spot at the head of the room. He is a man in his late thirties and is incredibly handsome and youthful for a man his age. He is well respected by his coworkers and he does an exceptional job as a project manager. Everyone is happy working under his wing and he is part of the reason why the project is ahead of schedule.

“Good morning everyone, thank you for being here this morning, ready to tackle today’s meeting.” He started, smiling at everyone in attendance. “I see that the marketing team has handed out their packets, so let’s start with that.” He sat down and let you take over with your proposal.

You went over the details of all the promotions the marketing team is doing to spread awareness of the new popup shop and the website. You went into detail about all the influential people your team was going to invite to make an appearance at the opening gala, as well as naming all the benefactors that will be invited as well. You sat down after your short presentation, everyone in the room murmuring in approval and excitement.

“Thank you very much, excellent job as always.” Mr. Park said, getting back up from his seat. “Now for the opening gala, there are a few details left. Miss Lee, would you please update us on the status of those details.” He said, giving Wendy the floor to speak.

“Thank you. We were finally able to find a new vendor that can provide the linens needed for the gala. They are willing to special make the linens in the colors that we need for the event, so the orders are already in for that and they should be getting delivered here within the next two weeks. The final detail we need to complete the project is choosing our musical guest appearance. We want to best represent Korea with some of its best artists and producers. We have gotten in contact with some of the artists and we are waiting for a reply from their managers or agencies.” Wendy reported expertly. She’s not the head of event planning for nothing.

“That’s wonderful news. Is it possible to know who you have in mind?” Mr. Park asked

“Yes of course. We want to have a diversity of groups and decided it would be good to have a male group, a girl group and some solo artists. For the male group we decided to reach out to GOT7, for the girl group we decided to reach out to AOA. The solo artists we have contacted are Eric Nam and Hwasa. We also thought it would be a good idea and a great promotional opportunity if we also work with up-and-coming artists. There’s actually a brilliant rookie composer who has been working with rookie artists and every song he has produced has been a complete hit. I believe it would be a great opportunity for us if we reach out to him in order to mutually benefit from each other.” Wendy explained, an excited buzz going around the room at the possibility of having these amazing musical appearances.

“Very impressive and excellent choice of artists. What is the name of this rookie producer?” Mr. Park asked, intrigued at the fact that a new producer is already making a splash in the music industry.

“He goes by the name of Loey. I can email everyone some of the songs he has produced so we can all get acquainted with his style. He is very unique in the sense that he only likes to work with rookie artists.” Wendy explained, fast fingers already sending out the mass email with Loey’s playlist.

“Perfect. Well, I am thoroughly impressed by everyone’s hard work and contribution to this project. That is all for today's meeting, thank you all for your time and have a great day.” Mr. Park concluded, bowing slightly before exiting the room. Everyone got up and left to their respective positions.

“How cool is it going to be to have those musical appearances?” Mark asked excitedly, practically vibrating as he walked next to you in the direction of your office.

“If we actually get them, it will be amazing.” You smiled, actually excited for the musical guests as well.

You entered your office and opened up your email so you could check out Loey’s playlist that Wendy sent out. The email had a link to a youtube playlist and you played it on the background as you read the rest of your emails.

“Wow, is that Loey?” Mark asked as he entered your office, coffee and notes in hand.

“Well it's the songs he produced, he’s not the one singing them.” You replied, gracefully taking the coffee and notes from Mark.

“He is good!” Mark said, really enjoying the song being played. “Good lyrics and musical progression.”

“Mark, I'm impressed you know so much about music.” You teased.

“It’s the second thing I love the most. The first being working with you, of course.” He replied cheekily, laughing at your eye roll.

“Okay, go work Mark, since you love it so much.” You said, dismissing him with a wave of your hand.

“Anything for you noona.” He winked and left your office, closing the door behind him.

You liked the songs you heard so far from the playlist and hoped that this producer would agree to work with you guys. You closed the browser for youtube and went back to your email, getting ready to do some work.

You were barely a few sentences into replying to your first email when your office phone rang. You saw that it was Wendy and answered immediately, confused as to why she would be emailing you.

“Hey Wendy, what’s up?”

“Hey! So I have some news.” She started, excitement in her voice.

“Oh yeah? What is it?” You asked, your curiosity peaked.

“So I actually just got a call back from Loey’s team and they said he is willing to work with us!” She exclaimed excitedly, hurting your ear with the volume of her excitement.

“That’s great!” You said, truly happy for her but still confused as to what this had to do with you. “Have you told Mr. Park yet?”

“Yes, of course. I also needed to tell you though because Loey’s manager said that he is actually going to be in New York next weekend working on a project here. They said it would be a great opportunity to meet with reps of the company. And they said that Loey was very insistent on meeting the marketing director as well.” She explained, although you thought it was a bit odd.

“Why though? That seems a bit odd.” You said.

“I agree but they said he wants to be involved in how he and his artists will be promoted in the event.” She explained simply.

“Okay, well that makes sense I guess. Just email me when we are meeting him so I can make sure I clear my day.” You said, mentally going over your scheduled appointments for next week.

“Sounds great! Thanks!” Wendy said and you both hung up.

“Well okay then.” You muttered to yourself. Ignoring the weird feeling in your gut and diving back into your work.

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#jaehyun #jung jaehyun #jaehyun smut #jaehyun boyfriend #park chanyeol #kpop smut #enough series #exo #nct #nct127 #chanyeol #chanyeol x you #chanyeol x reader #jaehyun and you #jaehyun x you #nct smut

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vennilavee · 5 years

Note

so um donald trump closed the borders so no one from europe can come to the u.s. and no one from the u.s. can go to europe. im freaking out because i work at a lawfirm and all the partners are in europe (and china) and i'm the head of global strategy and i dont know what to do. also my compony grounded us. i had a big conference in germany so thats cancelled anyway. THIS FUCKING VIRUS I KILLING ME I SWEAR

So the ban is specifically for “foreign nationals” coming from Europe to the US- I don’t think there has been anything said about going to Europe from the US. I’m not sure where you live, I don’t want to assume...And “permanent residents” of the US are not bound by this rule, and neither is the U.K. i think US citizens can come and go freely. I say this in quotes bc it makes no sense to me- as if the virus is gonna pick and choose who to latch on to? And why is the UK exempt? And also I think this is too little too late. The virus is already here and proliferating rapidly. The US is way behind the ball on this- with testing kits not being available.

That being said- I do think it’s a bad idea to travel to and from Europe, or really anywhere right now. Just cause things haven’t been contained properly yet. As for your law firm- I would suggest making all meetings virtual via Skype or whatever system you use. Especially if the meetings are for non critical things. Keep in contact with your team, check in periodically. From a business continuity perspective, I’d say come up with a plan for the things you need face to face interactions for (decision making and things like that) If you’re based in the US, I’d advise not traveling to Europe because of the lack of containment and risk of spreading. It sounds like a lotta companies have been grounded and people are working from home. Though not everyone has that luxury to do so. I think this has just shown how poor emergency responses are set up to be. Not everyone can take days off from work, not everyone can work from home, not every student can just go back home easily. Emergency prep as a nation is severely lacking here in the US. All these snap decisions have been made without ANY guidance for the present or the future.

When it comes to virus prevention- check the CDC and the WHO website for some tips. Though the US thoroughly messed up handling this crisis, the CDC gov does have some helpful tips. Stay hydrated, wash your hands often. I’m more worried about my parents more than me, because my dad goes into nyc a few times a week and the number of cases is just exponentially increasing.

I know it seems bleak right now but I really think the only way through this is together. We have to come together as a society to ensure survival and I think that’s where we are lacking

#asks #i-have-arrived-bitch #public health should be a priority #too bad tr*mp cut cdc funding

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jeannereames · 5 years

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Hello, Dr. Reames! I love your work (and am very excited to read your novels very soon!). I am thinking of doing a phd (not history or classics, but maybe sort of related to Alexander) but I'm scared that I'm not going to have the motivation to go through with the whole thing... Do you ever lose motivation and get discouraged when researching/writing and how do you deal with it? I know that this is completely unrelated to Alexander/ancient history so feel free to ignore it☺

Hi, there! This reply is going to be in 3 parts. First, about my own motivation…

I think everybody (even Alexander!) has periods of feeling discouraged. It’s part of being human. This is especially true when something you put days, weeks, or sometimes *years* of effort into doesn’t work out, or isn’t well-received, or comes back with “revise and resubmit.” Ha.

So, real life recent example: About a year and a half ago, I finished an article that took me (literally) 5 years to research and write, because it combined research into two different areas, only one of which is my research area. It took a huge amount of reading, and I’d even presented it at a couple of conferences, where I received good feedback. It was supposed to be published in conference proceedings, but that fell through (not my part of it, the entire publication didn’t happen because the editor quit). So I had to shop it around to journals. It went out to three readers, and all three returned it with “Revise (substantially) and resubmit,” + large *additional* bibliography (mostly not in English) in the area not my field. Two of the readers thought my chief point was valid, but needed more support. (The third just flat disagreed with me, but it’s academia; that happens.) But that was after it had been presented 3xs already, and revised after each.

OTOH, I was pretty discouraged. But OTOH, the suggestions and reading lists were helpful. These are blind reviews, so it wasn’t personal. And the entire point of peer review is to help a book or article improve. Lord knows, nobody wants to put out something that will get you laughed at. But after all the time I’d already spent on it, it was still really discouraging as I’d thought it in pretty good shape.

Almost everybody in academia is going to have an article or three turned down, or a book refused, etc. And after a while, it can be really hard to keep trying. And it’s not just in academia.

Do you know how long it took me to sell Dancing with the Lion? 15 years! I got my first serious query from an agent in 1996. (The first words of the novel were written in December of 1988–that’s how old it is.) That agent eventually decided it wasn’t for her. I’ve had a couple others since…same thing. I’ve sent out probably around 500 queries to agents or publishers. In fact, I’d put the book AWAY and started a completely different trilogy (which I’m in the middle of now), because I figured it would only sell later.

Then I happened to read comments about Madeline Miller’s A Song for Achilles written by an English professor and new acquisitions editor at Riptide. She liked it, but there were a couple of things she really didn’t like. And they were the very ways (I thought) my novel was different. So I emailed her. She asked for sample chapters, then the whole thing, and finally, Riptide offered me a contract. They’re not a major press, they’re a Romance publisher primarily, but they were willing to take a chance on my coming-of-age historical, so I grabbed the opportunity. Now the book is out (well, the first half is), and it’s getting pretty decent reviews.

So persistence can pay off.

That said, if someone else had told me that story 10 years ago, I’d have snorted and said (in my mind), “Maybe it did for you. Maybe I’m just a bad writer and I’ll never succeed.” I’d also just been through a divorce and was having trouble selling my house in the housing bust, etc., etc. So a lot of things in my life were pear-shaped at the time, and that can make it really hard to keep trudging.

The “Dark Night of the Soul” is a real thing, and we all go through it.

The only way I get through it, myself, is to remember things in the past that went well, times I succeeded. Plus, I’m just a really stubborn SOB. Ha.

But discouragement is normal, and there will be points in everybody’s life where not just one or two things are going wrong, but it seems as if EVERYthing is going wrong and you’re just a total failure. You have to believe it’ll get better.

Now, part #2, about motivation to complete a degree. It’s a bit like the AA motto: one day at a time. Or really, one semester at a time. One hurdle at a time. When I first got to Penn State, the long, long road ahead made me freak out a little, but Gene Borza (my advisor) told me to take it in bites. And to remember that other people had made it through; I could, as well.

Also, don’t let yourself get thrown by “Imposter’s Syndrome.” This is the feeling that you don’t belong somewhere: in grad school, in a PhD program, in a department (or really, ANY arena). You’re not as good as the others. Minorities, women, and first-generation college students are those most likely to suffer imposter’s syndrome, but it can hit others too, such as the children of academics (I’ll never measure up to mom/dad), etc.

Last, part #3, and this may seem an odd coda to all the above rah-rah cheerleading. But as a (now former) graduate program chair, I would be terribly remiss if I didn’t put out a warning.

Not only is the field of humanities in trouble right now, in the US and Canada, and elsewhere, too, but the entire university system is changing. This latter is especially true in the US, but I hear rumblings from other places. Partly, this owes to the rise of online education. But even more, it’s what I call the “Wal-martization” of the university, where tenure-track lines are being replaced by a bunch of part-time instructors who have to teach 6 classes just to make enough to EAT. “Adjunct” professors, even those with PhDs, are paid a pittance. It’s absolutely immoral and ridiculous.

Universities are turning into profit more than education, with a degree seen as “job training” instead of learning to think critically and exploring Big Questions, which are increasingly viewed as a waste of time. Administration levels are increasingly bloated with deans, assistant deans, supervisory boards, etc. They’re (mostly) not teaching, but their paycheques are high. Tenured faculty positions are being eliminated. Colleges and unis realized that they could turn over a lot of (especially intro and survey) courses to part-time instructors for a *fraction* of what they paid tenured and tenure-track faculty, but still reap high tuition.

When I was finishing up in the ‘90s, I was teaching as an adjunct while writing my dissertation, then for a bit after, as was expected for “teaching experience” before being hired. The phenomenon of the “Visiting Assistant Professor” (or VAP) was *starting* to gain traction, but was still usually just a year or two until these people would find a tenure-track position (VAP is not tenure-track). But now, I know people who’ve been VAPping for YEARS. And some just give up. Also, adjuncting like what I was doing has gone from “teaching experience for a real job” into “the only lane for employment” for a lot of PhD (and some MA) graduates. Especially women PhDs get caught in that trap.

These are the realities of where we are right now.

And THE MOST USELESS DEGREE ON THE PLANET is a PhD in the humanities. I say that as one who holds it. With a few exceptions, a humanities PhD prepares you for pretty much one job: being a professor. And those jobs are winking out of existence with frightening speed. This is a change that has accelerated over the last 10 years, and especially over the last 5. We’re turning out PhDs with no available positions. Museum studies, Classics, archaeology, philosophy are in even worse shape. SOME history PhDs are more popular. This year, H-Net has a bunch of Latin American positions open, for instance.

An MA in history (or related) is still useful. There are certain jobs that like them, ranging from state jobs like the Park Service to the FBI and CIA.

But a PhD? Think loooooong and hard before investing that time and money. This is not a matter of *you* not being able to do the work to get one. It’s a matter of the university system as we’ve known it crumbling away under our very feet. I have no idea what the American university will look like in 10 years. And once you have a PhD, it educates you out of most other jobs.

So that’s the unfortunate bad news. And I’d be a very irresponsible advisor if I didn’t tell you the truth. IME, people who really want a PhD will ignore me and go after it anyway. But at least you’ll go in with your eyes open.

#encouragement #dealing with discouragement #imposter's syndrome #academia #PhD track #Adjunct Hell #Think twice (and then a third time) about getting a PhD these days #Humanities tenure track jobs are drying up #asks

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pepprs · 5 years

Text

i have been extraordinarily anxious all day and frankly it’s a wonder i haven’t passed out yet

#ive barely packed.. i have most of my clothes and thsts it. i have like 3738397428748 emails and texts and notifications everywhere and i #havent replied to angthing. its my dads birthday and no one got him a present and i havent even made him a card i am such a piece of shit #ive spent most of today just like. frozen and starijg @ nothing and then when i get too anxious from sitting still i have 2 play piano to #wring it out of me but thats so unproductive and i have so much left to do and im so horrible!!!!!! and god. i am so excited for this #conference but travel makes me freak the fuck out. SPEAKING OF WHICH i havent even rehearsed my presentation yet AUGGFHDDHGGGHDHDHSGGD #purrs #conference tag

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daysswithyou · 6 years

Text

V. Sungjin - Bet

Characters: Sungjin x You

Genre: enemies to lovers!6

Warning: some cursing and swearing

Credits: @7abshy and @parkjaeins; for helping me figure out how annoying teachers can be

Words: 5k

Description: There is always more than meets the eye

Author’s note: This wraps up the enemies to lovers!6 series :) I hope you’ve enjoyed all 5 of them!

-----

I’m late, I’m late, I’m late, shit!

You repeatedly mouthed the words to yourself under your breath as you squeezed past the throng of people crowding the hallways, occasionally throwing an apology across your shoulder if you bumped into someone. Opting to not take the front entrance into the lecture hall, you ran up flights of stairs to reach the back entrance. By the time you reached the top, you were gasping for breath, your thighs were burning and you could feel the first beads of sweat roll down your back. Slipping through the crack of the heavy wooden door, you settled into the closest empty seat, trying to steady your breathing as your pants became too loud within the enclosed space.

Deep breaths Y/N, deep breaths...

You internally heaved a sigh of relief when you saw the empty podium in front, glad that your professor for this class will not have a bad impression of you.

But your relief was short-lived as the booming voice right next to you soon commanded for attention.

“Alright let’s get started, now that the last student is here.”

As he walks down the flight of stairs to reach the podium, it gives you enough time to observe the authoritative figure. His black leather jacket and ripped black jeans made him look exceptionally tough, and you swore you saw some male students flinch when he walked past them. His hair, which was the colour of warm chocolate, was too long and brushed against his eyelids.

He looks like a model that has just stepped out of a Harley Davidson advertisement.

But you mentally berated yourself for the inappropriate thought, and proceeded to haul it out of the window.

When he stepped onto the podium, he surveyed the whole room before starting again.

“Good morning. My name is Park Sungjin and I’ll be your TA for this semester and for this class.”

Ah, so this was the legendary Park Sungjin that you had heard so much about during your first semester. He was famous for being the top student of the graduating batch, with an impeccable portfolio to match. Apparently, he’s so good to the point that many companies and graduate schools have offered him a place amongst them. But, he is also notorious for being a tough TA and everyone’s advice was to just stay away from his bad side if you ever had the fortune (or misfortune) of being in his classes.

All you wanted was to pass this class peacefully so you made it your goal to not cross the line.

However, when he opens his mouth to give the next set of instructions, you knew that you were already on the wrong side of the line.

“So now, if you’re ready Ms Y/N, I’ll begin with the introduction on the topic.” Giving you one last hard glance, he turned to face the screen. Everyone else was furiously copying down notes, but not you.

He said my name, he knows who I am. I’ve been singled out.

It felt like someone had just passed you the death sentence.

A week passed by uneventfully and you tried your best to not attract attention to yourself in class. You were on time, and you were attentive in class. You never gave Sungjin trouble – or Mr Park, as you know him by now. Yet, such tactics did not work on him. You knew that you had his full attention when he stares at you from the front as he is giving lectures, even if you’re sitting in a last row. He’ll always linger a little longer behind you as write answers to the mini quizzes in class. You made the mistake of looking up at him once, and you nearly combusted under his hard gaze. What’s worse is that you can’t decide if he approves or disapproves of your work. Perhaps that was the most agonising part.

Today was no different. After handing up your papers for the quiz to the front, you attempted to slip away with the crowd but you just couldn’t slip past Park Sungjin’s attention.

“Y/N, could I have a word with you?”

You halted in your steps, his monotone voice sending chills down your spine.

Why me…

Squeezing your eyes shut and taking in a shaky breath, you turned around to face him before walking in his direction. Your steps were a little too hesitant and you were obviously clutching onto your bag too tightly because this was the first thing that Sungjin said when you finally stood in front of him.

“You can loosen your grip on your bag strap, your knuckles are turning white.”

“O-o-oh. It’s a habit, sorry.”

“What time do your lessons end today, Y/N?”

“6pm. My last lesson is Introduction to Psychology.”

“Good. Meet me at Conference Room 2 of the Social Sciences block, 6.30pm sharp.”

“Yes. Anything else…?”

“That’s all. You may go now.”

Giving Sungjin a curt bow, you scurried out of the lecture hall as fast as you could, dreading the time when you had to see him again.

6.30pm came too early for your liking, and you soon found yourself face to face with Sungjin once more. A thick stack of papers were sitting by the corner of the table beside him and you knew immediately.

“I’m here to grade papers?”

“More or less; I’ll be giving the final grade and you can help me critique.”

You simply nodded before assuming the seat in front of him.

The next time you looked up, your neck popped up with a loud crack and the clock read 12am. Sungjin kept you thoroughly occupied for the past few hours, papers being presented to you in a systematic manner. You’ve said more words to him a few hours than you’ve said to all your professors combined last semester. While disguised as ‘extra exposure’ for you, deep down you knew that this was Sungjin’s special torture method – and you finally understood what others meant by getting on his bad side.

But the torture didn’t end there.

“Y/N, don’t forget that we have an assignment due the next day. Oh, and don’t be late. See you tomorrow.”

Everything sounds really innocent but you knew what Sungjin really meant was “Don’t mess up tomorrow Y/N.”

You wanted to let out a sigh of frustration but instead you swallowed it and merely replied with a spritely “Yes” before leaving the office.

And this went on for months. Every single time Sungjin gave your class a quiz, you would find yourself in the conference room with him grading papers; sometimes at the expense of your own work. It gradually extended to grading papers from his other classes, but never once did you complain. You knew better than to argue with teachers, much less Sungjin. Every time he looks at you, your words die in your throat; how on earth were you supposed to hold an argument with him? But, of course, when you were back in the comfort of your dorm, which was when you were cursing and swearing at him. At one point in time, your roommate almost called an exorcist, thoroughly freaked out by the way you were flaying your limbs in the air as you continued screaming in frustration.

Needless to say, the late nights left with less sleep, and little energy to pay attention. You were up till 4am last night (or should you say morning), rushing out assignments due today for 2 different classes. You had burst into Sungjin’s lecture hall a good 20 minutes late but in your state, you didn’t care anymore. As usual, you settled into the closest seat you could find, one hand combing through the tangles in your hair, the other rummaging through your bag for your lesson materials. But you were so thoroughly exhausted that you fell asleep 10 minutes later, you pen stopping midway across your paper.

The next time you regain consciousness was when Sungjin’s voice calling your name rang through the speakers.

“So, Ms Y/N, what do you think of the question I just raised?”

You awoke with a start and you scattered your stationary across the floor in the process. You could hear the whole hall snickering at your blunder; save for the few kids sitting around you that helped you pick up your stray pens.

What was the question even? That was the most urgent question for you to answer. You shot a hard look at Sungjin, one that said, “How dare you call me when I’m in this state because of YOU.”

You were sure that he understood your gaze, but he merely raised an eyebrow, as he always did. It was the one that you recognised as “Go on, I’m waiting for your answer.” You knew that there was no way out of this except to answer his question. Panicking, you stared at the last word you wrote in your notebook before rattling off.

“The most famous poem from the Old English period, widely recognised by most is Beowulf. And for – ”

“Oh Ms Y/N, I didn’t know that Scandinavians spoke Old English in the late 10th century. Clearly, someone needs to keep her eyes and ears open. Also, I asked for your opinion, not of those from the 10th century.”

From beneath his long locks, Sungjin gave you a mischievous glint and smirked at you as the entire hall erupted into raucous laughter. Everyone was laughing, except you. Everyone found this funny, except you. Everyone was in a good mood, but you were livid.

How.fucking.dare.you.Park.fucking.Sungjin. I’m suffering in class now because of all your stupid “extra exposure” work after school. Yet you purposely picked on me to answer your question, knowing full well that I can’t. Why do you like picking on me so much? Why do you like embarrassing me in class so much? WHY PARK SUNGJIN!!!

You might have felt better if you actually said it out loud, but you didn’t. You just kept repeating this thought to yourself like a mantra until the end of the lesson.

It’s ok Y/N, just another 30mins of sitting in this hall and looking at his face. Afterwards you can leave and get yourself some ice cream to make yourself feel better. Yes, that’s right… everything is going to be ok Y/N...

But that day, things were not ok and you left the hall in a foul mood. For the final project of the year, you were paired up with Song Jihyo, the girl in class that was notorious for not doing her work.

Its official, Park Sungjin hates me and wants me to burn in Hell. That day, your whole body ached at the thought of more late nights and instead of eating your ice cream, you remembered hurling it at an innocent, nearby tree.

Everything that you thought would happen did happen. It’s as the saying goes, “Everything that can go wrong will go wrong.” And in this case, you were helpless against its happening. The only time that you talked to Jihyo was deciding on the thesis and after that, she was virtually uncontactable. You eventually gave up trying to arrange a time to meet to do up the thesis; you merely assigned her parts – which, to be fair, she did do. But they were of such poor quality you ended up deleting most of it and redoing it yourself. But no matter how hard you tried, nothing seemed fresh and you decided to bite the bullet and ask for help.

Lucky for you, Mr Kim was in class today and you immediately ran to him for help.

“Good morning Mr Kim. I have some questions about the final project thesis, is it alright if I ask a few questions?”

“Ah Y/N aren’t you? I’ve heard so much about you from Sungjin! I’ll be glad to help, let me take a look.”

Eagerly, you showed him what you had done so far and when he smiled, you felt a small smile creep onto your face, silently happy that you had gained his approval. But soon, the smile was wiped off your face.

“First of all, an excellent thesis choice, I must say. I remember Sungjin doing something similar for my class 3 years ago, why don’t you ask him for help? He is in a better position to help than I am.”

“Yes sir, I’ll ask Sung- I mean, Mr Park. Yes, I’ll ask Mr Park for advice. Thank you.”

With a light pat on your shoulder, he left you alone and when you turned, you found Park Sungjin standing right in front of you.

“I heard you need help?”

“Yes...” You hated it; you hated having to admit that you needed help from Park Sungjin.

“Hand it over.”

Reluctantly, you passed him your phone and turned to the side, not wanting to see his face further.

When he finally passed back the phone to you, you didn’t feel any more enlightened.

“You can do better than this.”

“What do you mean? That isn’t helpful!”

“That’s all I have to say. You know what to do, so do it.”

“I don’t! I don’t know what to do, which is why I’m asking for help!”

“Then sit down and figure it out.”

So that’s how it’s going to be – you won’t give me a consultation when I need it the most. Fine.

But that was not what you said. You said this instead, “Ok, I’ll figure it out.”

From then onwards, without help from anyone, you trudged through the group thesis yourself. This was on top of the individual thesis that each of you had to prepare for. You were literally typing so much (or rather, punching) your keyboard so hard that one of the keys fell out and you had to send your laptop for repairs. Not only was school draining your sanity, it was also draining your money. Due to the delay in repairing your laptop, you were left with a week to finish half of your thesis.

The outcome: later nights and heavier eye bags. By now, you were too tired to curse and swear at Sungjin for the terrible grouping since it was already taking insane willpower from you to even show up in class. You merely bottled up your indignation, and kept working to avoid thinking about it. After placing the stack of papers in Sungjin’s letter tray, you went back to your dorm and crashed for 12 hours straight.

This signalled the start of your 1 week break, and one week of not seeing Park Sungjin.

Thank goodness.

The next time you saw Park Sungjin, you were glad that it was the last time that you would have to see him. After all the torture he had put you through for the past semester, you were glad that you’ll be done with him now.

Yet, as always, Park Sungjin manages to make your life a living hell till the end.

Group Thesis: C

Individual Thesis: E

Overall: D

Comments for Individual Thesis: Clear presentation of key ideas and mostly factually correct. Choice of thesis could be better.

Signed: Park Sungjin

Choice of thesis could be better. Park Sungjin failed me, just because he didn’t like my topic.

You were brought out from your shock by a large shove from behind. Whipping around, you found a smiley Jihyo in front of you and her next words made you want to punch her in her perfect little teeth.

“Thank you for helping me pass the class Y/N! How much did you get?”

Without your consent, she ripped your papers from your hands before handing them back to you with a frown.

“That’s odd; we had the same choice of individual thesis, why did you do worse?” But Jihyo had no time to contemplate on the answer to her question when she was dragged away by her friends to celebrate their good grades.

I can tolerate everything that Park Sungjin has put me through, but not this.

Running up to Sungjin, you stopped him from leaving before asking to see him.

“Do you have time now?”

“Yes. What is this about?”

“This is about my thesis, can we talk somewhere else?”

“Conference Room 2 of the Social Sciences building in 10 minutes, I need to talk to Mr Kim first.”

“Ok.”

You were going to clear this once and for all.

“So, what is it about your thesis, Y/N?”

“You failed me just because you didn’t like my topic, didn’t you?”

You’ve rehearsed this part many times in your head and this wasn’t how it was supposed to sound like. It was supposed to sound polite and less accusatory, but fuck that. You wanted answers, and if you had to demand it from him, you will.

“Yes, I did. What’s the issue with it?”

“It’s not fair.”

“Nothing is fair in this world Y/N; I thought you’d know that by now.”

“Yes, I do know that. But what you’re doing is not only unfair, but also downright discriminatory.”

“How so?”

“Jihyo told me that we both had the same choice of thesis, and I got and E and she got a B. My grades are clearly a personal attack against my character. You never liked me from the start, I get it. But it’s wrong to simply disregard my entire thesis because you didn’t like the topic! What is wrong with this topic? It’s within the list of topics that you’ve given us, I met the word count, I met deadlines. I did everything!”

“And I’m supposed to give you a A for that?”

"I’m not saying you have to give me an A for it. I'm just trying to prove the fact that – " "A fact is already a fact, you don't have to prove it." "God damn it Sungjin! Would you just lay off me for a second? Would it kill for you to not correct my grammar for once? Would it kill you to not pick on me for one second?" "It's Mr Park, for you. It still is. And no, I won't lay off your grammar – you are an English language major that has taken my class, there is no way that I'm allowing you to continue to speak with bad grammar." "I hate you." "That can technically count as swearing at a teacher. Are you testing my patience?" "No. I'm just saying that it's not fair for you to give me a bad grade just because you did not like my choice of thesis. That's just being biased." "I'm not changing your grade." "I can't fail this module Sungjin! I need to pass this module to go for the Advanced English module. Yes, it's not a perfect thesis but I don't deserve to fail for this!" "Welcome to the real world Y/N." "I hate you Sungjin. I really fucking do." You pick up your bag and slam the door on your way out. That night, for the first time, you cried. And you hated the fact that you were crying over stupid Park Sungjin.

The next day, you awoke with puffy eyes but nonetheless, you showed up for lessons. You nearly bumped into Sungjin on your way to Psychology but you immediately detoured. You couldn’t get close to him – you might just punch him and be charged for assaulting a teacher.

That evening, you had just ended lessons when your phone buzzed and Sungjin’s name lit up on your screen.

Mr Park: You have another chance to redo your thesis and not fail the class. Deadline is January 20th, 2 weeks from now. Papers in my tray at 6pm sharp; don’t be late for the submission.

You swiped his notification away quickly, but you remembered the words and that night, you began sourcing for more ideas for your individual thesis.

For the next 3 days, Sungjin just wouldn’t leave you alone. Your phone buzzed with his name every now and then, and he was so distracting that you nearly wanted to block his number.

Mr Park: Are you going to resubmit your thesis?

Mr Park: Have you chosen a thesis yet?

Mr Park: What is your choice of thesis? How many words in?

Mr Park: Do you need help? Just drop me a message; I can help you check your thesis.

Help me with my thesis? Is he playing saint now? As if I’m going to accept help from him.

As you turned your attention back to your screen, you found that a shadow has fallen in front of your laptop. You found yourself staring at a pair of familiar, battered, black Converse and looking up only confirmed your suspicions. The man was here in person – Park Sungjin.

“Why aren’t you replying my messages?”

Why must I hold myself accountable to you? Buzz off.

You continued typing, completely ignoring Sungjin. You heard him sigh before inviting himself to sit in front of you.

“Y/N, what is your thesis? Hey, answer me. I came all the way down here to find you.”

“You came here voluntarily, I didn’t ask for your help. You can leave.”

“You’re still angry at me?”

Of course I am, you asshole. You’re just asking the obvious.

With each thought, you punched the keys on your keyboard harder.

“Stop typing so hard, you’ll spoil your keyboard. Working in spite is not going to produce quality work Y/N.”

Without your consent, he lifted your laptop into the air and onto his lap and scrolled through your entire document for 15 minutes. Passing it back to you with a smile, you stared at him in shock for 5 minutes.

Park Sungjin never smiles; did he just smile at me?

“You did it.”

“What did I do?”

“You figured it out. This was the choice of thesis I wanted you to choose in the very first place. Furthermore, you’ve chosen the correct area to focus on.”

“Thank you… I thought…”

“What did you think about?”

“I thought I might not be on the right track. But your words makes me feel a little more reassured now.”

“Well, I’ll leave you alone now.”

Park Sungjin then took his leave, but he was lying when he said he’ll leave you alone. He never did. Till the submission deadline, he visited you every alternate day.

As expected, you got an A for your individual thesis.

When you got an email from Mr Kim saying that he wanted to meet you, you thought you were doomed; most likely a disciplinary case on your head after what you said to Sungjin. But turns out, it was an interview for the Advanced English course, and they passed you immediately. When you walked out of the room still stunned that that you had entered the course of your choice, you found Sungjin waiting outside for you, almost like he knew you were going to be there.

“They passed you didn’t they?”

“Huh?”

Hearing his voice reminded you of what Mr.Kim said to you just now:

“We’ve received high commendations of you, Ms Y/N. All the professors pushed for your recommendation into the course, and Sungjin, especially. He was the first one to mention offering you a place in the course. He spoke of your remarkable working attitude.”

“May I ask something?”

“Yes, anything at all.”

“What exactly did Mr Park say about me?”

“He mentioned that you work well even under immense stress and long hours, catching up really fast even if you fell behind. But, most importantly, he spoke of your willingness to try again after failure. That is the most important quality that we are looking out for: tenacity. We have no doubt that you’ll be a suitable candidate to enter this demanding course. We would love to offer you a place, should you choose to accept.”

“I would love to, thank you. Thank you to the faculty and professors for having me.”

Sungjin hates me, why would be recommend me for the course?

“Follow me.”

Taking him by the wrist, you dragged Sungjin all the way to the bridge in the school park before letting him go.

“What’s with the rush, Y/N?”

Hands on your hips, you turned to face Sungjin with wide eyes, your lips set firmly in a thin line.

“I don’t understand you Sungjin. First, you torture me in lessons by making me so many extra work and now you’re putting in good words for me and recommending me for my dream course? Did you suddenly decide that you like me more now overnight?”

“Ah, so they told you everything I said. Mr Kim promised to not tell, I should have known he wouldn’t keep to it.”

“You’re still not answering my questions.”

“I’m getting there. First of all, that extra work was not torture, they were a test. I loaded you with many things to see how much you can handle before you snapped but thankfully and luckily for me, you never did.”

“I did silently curse and swear at you.”

“That is a given. But you didn’t say it out loud, so it doesn’t count. You’ve proven to – ”

“To be able to work well under immense pressure and long hours.”

“Yes. That is an important quality for taking any Advanced courses. I took the same course with the same professors that you’ll be having so I know how intense it was. I had to put you under pressure to see if my bet was correct.”

“I was your bet?”

“Yes, I was betting on you all along. You have great potential.”

“Thank you.”

“Oh? I thought someone hated me before.”

“Like you said, that was before. I don’t anymore. What you put me through was tough, but they did teach me more about myself and my limits. So, thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now that I’ve managed to help you get a place in your course, I think it’s time to return the favour?”

“What’s your proposal?”

“Come to my graduation ceremony next spring. It’s in April.”

“Ok. That’s all?”

“That’s all for now.”

But when a soft smile lights up Sungjin’s face, you knew there was more in store for the both of you in time to come.

April 20th

You had come early to get front row seats and as you watch Sungjin give a speech representing the graduating batch, your heart swells with pride. You’ve seen him work very hard for the past one semester and to see him being handed his graduation certificate made you feel like all his efforts paid off.

You were the last to greet Sungjin because there was simply too many people crowding around him. You watch from afar and you giggle when you see Sungjin frantically asking Kang Younghyun if he’s seen you around. He does this thing where his eyes grow big like saucers, so big that you thought they were going to pop out of their sockets. You could also hear the fear in his voice – he speaks a little faster and slips into the Busan dialect. So when you greet him by gently tapping him on the shoulder, he whips around so fast the wind nearly knocked you over. But when you see his facial expression melt from one of worry into one of happiness, you nearly melt into a puddle there and then. You’d given anything to see those sparkly eyes and sweet smile.

“Ah finally you’re here Y/N! I saw you in the front row just now but then afterwards I didn’t so I was worried that you left but I haven’t got a photo with you yet. I was so sad because I haven’t asked you my question yet – ”

“Calm down Sungjin! I’m here now right? Also, happy graduation! I got this for you.”

Proudly, you hold up the bear plushie you had custom made for him, decked out in the exact same graduation gown that he had on right now.

“It looks like you, right? I named him Bang!”

“Why Bang?”

“Because you always say goodbye in a very cute manner and Bang seems like a cute name to capture that cuteness. Also, I gave him eyelashes! When you observe the details, he really looks like you right?”

When Sungjin finally notices the eyelashes, he bursts out laughing and you swore your heart nearly stopped. When he finally stopped laughing and took over the bear from you, he finally remembered the question he wanted to ask you.

“Y/N- ah…”

“Yes?”

“If I ask you out…will you say yes?”

Just to tease him a little, you decided to look up at the sky, and contemplate your answer for a little while.

“I don’t know…maybe?”

“You can’t do this to me! I waited so long to ask you this question!”

“Why did you wait so long then?”

“I had to wait till I graduated. It wouldn’t be right for a teacher to ask his student out right?”

“That’s true…but I still don’t know if I’d go out with you. How about we make a bet?”

“With what?”

“With a coin. You flip a coin and I’ll decide. Which side are you confident of getting?”

“Heads, I always flip a head.”

“Ok, go ahead then. Heads for I’ll go out with Park Sungjin and tails for…”

With utmost concentration, Sungjin flips the coin and slams his palm over it when it lands. Opening his palm, his face immediately becomes crestfallen: staring back at him was a tail.

But you haven’t finished your sentence yet.

“Tails for…I’ll still go out with you anyways!” you said, as you gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

“Really? You would?”

“Ask any more questions and I’ll reconsider.”

“Ok, ok I won’t ask any more questions! What do you want to eat?”

“Fried chicken!”

“Oh, I was betting that you’ll say fried chicken!”

“Betting on fried chicken is great Park Sungjin, but I'm betting on something else now.”

Sungjin turns to look at you and he says, "So, what are you betting on now?"

"I'm betting that you'll give me a kiss."

"Really? How are you so sure?"

"I know you Park Sungjin, I know you'll do it. So, am I getting a kiss or not?"

Without another word, Sungjin closes the space between the both of you, so close that if either moved, your lips would touch. You closed your eyes and waited for the impact, but instead you felt something soft press into your forehead and you immediately smiled.

"Not where I was expecting, but ok Sungjin."

"I'm saving the best for the last."

"I'm holding you accountable for that statement."

"You can bet your life on it that I'll fulfill it."

Not only was he your best bet, he was your favourite bet too.

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