#how he slowly build up the courage to speak on interviews and such | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sugarlove-01 · 2 years ago

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Into The Dark Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

The morning had come bright and sunny with clear skies all across town. As I walked down the street closer to my destination, my nerves began to build up with tension worrying about my interview. Popping a few pills to help the migraine and a can of energy boost began to soften whatever buzzed in my head. Bella dropped me off. Mom believed I was still at work. Dad doesn’t know anything. Doing this alone felt terrifying. I stood in front of the house holding the piece of paper I printed out this morning. The address was correct. In each direction, there was nothing but silence, dead silence. Perhaps this place was a charming friendly neighborhood in the past, but nothing but memories and ghosts lived here now. I proceeded up the steps suddenly jumping at the sound of barking coming from behind the gate. Something large growled and clawed at the gate. It was a dog. A mean dog, too. This person (man or woman) must not like company. Or visitors too much. Gulping, I raised my hand to the doorbell when the door suddenly swung open. I was face to face with a brunette woman, maybe in her 50s, shuffling past me pushing my shoulder, and fixing her handbag.

“Son of a bitch! Rot in hell. Drop dead. Rip your guts out,” she grumbled stomping to her car parked on the curb. She threw her bag in through the window, crawled in, slammed the door, and drove down the block. A rooster tail of exhaust and screaming tires trailed after her speedy departure. It didn’t help with my confidence too much. Mentally I asked myself what I was getting into. I looked back at the open door and peeked in.

“Hello?” I whispered, stepping inside.

It was dark. My nose crinkled. The room felt tight, close, and unaired. My hand reached for a light switch against the wall but it failed to turn on. Pushing back my hair, the back of my nape prickled, and maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. There was no response. Maybe they were upstairs? Feeling uneasy, I began to step back towards the doorway giving the final decision to go home.

“Who’s there…” came a hoarse voice. “I do not want to be preached by the word of God I don’t care how many years you were a nurse. I do not need a missionary! Leave here with your bible now!”

Gulping, catching my breath, I stutter,” H-Hello? I’m not a missionary. That woman just left.”

It caught me off guard. Halting in my tracks, I faced the darkness peering into it failing to locate the owner of the voice. My footfall created a creaking noise in the wooden floorboards as I stepped closer into the living room. The house looked old but still had impeccable charm. Wooden floorboards, white walls, a high ceiling, and a staircase leading up to the second floor. All the windows were covered up by bed sheets allowing a dim glow through the sheets. Cobwebs had completely taken over this man’s house and he was on the verge of becoming a hoarder. Newspapers, plastic bags, picture frames, light bulbs, mason jars, clothes, and suitcases were piled up against the wall. Not to mention a big, green, and mossy stain covered the corner of the living room due to a leak from the ceiling. It looked like the entire house needed some repairs. Something moved in the dark. I blink rapidly, my eyelids matching my heart rate as I see something tall, dark, big, and brooding in the darkest corner of the room. The owner of the home approaches and I can’t believe how big he is. My hand clutches my bag while the other pushes a lock of my hair behind my ear.

“Who are you?” he croaked.

Trying to find the courage to speak was beginning to become hard and to be honest, intimidating. His voice sounded so dry and uneven, like a piece of toast in the desert. The dark figure moved across the wall, slowly, until I could see the outline of a man. I stepped closer feeling the pull of gravity become stronger as I can sense him coming closer.

“M-My name… is Evey Williams. It’s nice to meet you.” I reach out my hand. He doesn’t reach out. I wait a moment longer. Feeling embarrassed I withdraw my hand.

His voice seems to be full of suspicion and judgment. Curious. But suspicious.

“What do you want…”

Quickly I pulled my papers out,” I saw your ad online. We scheduled an interview today about the caregiver position. …”

For a long time, he’s quiet until I can hear his footsteps go across the room in loud thumps. He steps forward and takes a seat in the living room chair and he pushes a chair out toward me.

“Take a seat…”

It’s more of an order than a courteous gesture. Little streams of light poke through the open slits of the curtains and bed sheets illuminating little galaxies of lint flying in the air. I take nearly 3 steps through those galaxies and then I see him in a better light. My jaw almost drops when I see him up close. Intense wasn’t the right word. It didn’t seem close to describing him. Intimidating, yes. He had salt and pepper hair with a beard shadowing his chin and jawline. His whole face was mussed, unruly, and longish. There was a raw ruggedness that attached to him like fire attached to heat.

“W-What do you want to know?” I whispered, looking at him through my lashes.

He exhales, croaking, “You sound young…”

Well isn’t that obvious?

I moved my eyebrows before nodding my head. He moves his head looking at the ground and then up at the ceiling before reaching his hand out across the table towards me, suddenly choosing to look at the wall again. His hands are huge. My eyes run down his fingers with wide strong palms that could squeeze a watermelon into chunks or rip phone books in half. I look at his arms under my lashes and I can’t stop staring.

“Your clearance card… copy of your ID... I need to make copies.”

Reaching for my bag, I do what he says. Everything is pushed forward. But for some reason, his hands reach across the table tapping his fingers everywhere before finding them. This is interesting because he touches each item with precise movements, investigating the thin plastic card in between his fingers. Maybe I should say something. Or would it be rude? Why would it be rude? My paper and card are completely authentic. My tongue runs across my teeth and before I could say something he gets up and walks into the other room (tracing his hand along the wall, I might add) and opens a drawer. In the dark, my eyes can see the silver glimmer of a cane firmly being held in his left hand. He’s limping too. A part of the puzzle pieces together. In heavy thumps, he reenters the room carrying a small book and a pair of keys.

“Write your name here, address, and written consent that you are under my employment of your own free will. The paperwork is very important. I need to know who will be working in my home.”

He pushed a pen toward me, looking at my shoulder, and I gave a face. He was certainly a very careful employer.

“I-I don’t understand,” looking at the papers. “You have my ID and fingerprint clearance card. They’re authentic I promise. You can read it. It’s in my handwriting I swear.”

He looks down to the ground, seemingly annoyed and most disgruntled, but he inhales a long breath regaining his patience, and looks at my shoulder again. The chair he sits in creaks as he crosses his legs.

“I wish I could believe you, but I have to be sure. I like to be %100 sure. I don’t like any loose ends. Have you ever done this kind of work before?” his head tilted to the side.

“Yes, I have. I used to live with my grandmother when I was 13 years old and she needed help around the house. She was diabetic and I helped her with medication and helped her shower. It was for one summer but I learned a lot. She passed away last year.”

“Here you’ll learn more from me. I’ll teach you. But, I hope my schedule won’t take too much time from your husband or children.”

“I don’t have children and I’m not married.”

“You sound young…”

“Yes, sir.”

“Oh? May I ask how old you are?”

“I’m 17 years old. I may be young… b-but I can work hard. I can do anything you want me to. If you need me to go shopping I can. I… can try and attempt to cook. If you need me to remind you about medications I can do that, too. I may be young but I’m a fast learner.”

“Ah…” he realizes something, nodding his head. “Good. You’re in high school and you only need this as a summer job?”

Shit.

“Y-Yes, sir. But I can work hard for as long as needed. I can push myself to be whatever you need.”

“Don’t panic. All I need is someone to come in for 2 months. Maybe 4 months. I won’t need help all year. All I need are basic things. Newspaper, household chores, feeding, and walking Shadow. Among other things. I need someone young and strong and stable. Reliable. I need someone to come in every day on time. I need you to show up and be here. Do you understand?”

“Of course.”

“I was recently released from the hospital and I am in recovery.” He knocks his cane on the floor. “That is why I have this. I am weak and in constant pain. My home was broken into and I was attacked.”

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. That must’ve been so scary.”

“I need you… to be completely available. It’s very important that you’re here with me. I will double your pay if you’re here with me after hours.”

The dark features on his face seemed frozen in half light and half dark, as if he was purposely trying to hide from me. The intensity of his expression doesn’t seem to falter while I squirmed in my chair, pulled my locks behind my ear, and looked down at the middle of the table. It was rude of him to stare for so long.

What’s wrong with this guy?

By now I can feel the pills and energy drink from this morning battle together in the pit of my gut for room making it hard for me not to sweat and squirm in my chair.

“Of course, sir. I can guarantee you’ll be happy.”

“You have an accent…” he noticed, turning his head in another direction. “You’re not from around, here are you?”

I knew he was laughing at me for being so ignorant. My fingers slide my red headband from my head, unraveling my hair down my shoulders and touching my back and the world is suddenly better with the cool air wafting against the back of my neck. It’s not so hot anymore.

I bit my lip,” No, sir.” I pause, for too long, drinking him in. “I live across town.”

Placing my headband back in place I try to remember that this is just a summer job and it’ll be over soon. My hair swoops and falls behind my back as he seems to be dissatisfied with my answer but he looks away and seems to enjoy the color of his living room wallpaper. Something catches his interest.

“Hmmm” he croaked looking at my breasts and I didn’t feel so invited anymore.

Pervert.

My arms twitch moving in sync as he seems to be studying something on my neck and then moving to my shoulder. With each tilt of the head or glance, he moves in a shark-like motion. I can’t quite put my finger on it. Suddenly he moves his upper body forward and it’s a chance to see his face closer. My heart rate flutters when he’s no longer in the shadows. He tilts his head to the side looking at the ceiling, smelling. His neck cranes down, slowly shutting his eyelids, turning his head to look at the floor, smelling, almost as if he’s trying to look for me. The lamplight illuminates his face in a soft yellow/gold hue. His ‘smelling’ chills me to the bone and my body stiffens, clenching my toes in an attempt to hold back my stifled breathing and give me away. It wasn’t too long when his nose caught something wafting in the air between us, stops, smells again, and unclenches his cane releasing the tension in his knuckles and I could’ve sworn I heard him breathe a soft,” Fuck.��

“Do we have a problem?” the words suddenly leave my mouth and I immediately regret saying anything when his head sharply turns to look directly at me. “Do you want me to leave?”

Then I understand.

His eyes.

Very slowly, he turns his head to the windows, smelling, curling his fingers around the head of his cane. His knuckles pop and turn white he’s clenching so tight. The air became more intense as I watch him use his other senses. The lamplight illuminates more of his face each time he turns his head. I’m breathless when I notice his eyes are two milky white pools. His left eye is scarred, almost burned with star-shaped scars, with a milky white scar across his brow and bridging into his iris reaching his cheekbone. The whole left side of his face is covered in scars reaching to his ear. The other side of his face is smooth and unharmed but the damage has cost him his sight completely. His entire facial feature almost seemed…undead. I had no idea. And that means I’ve been an asshole for the past 5 minutes into my interview.

“You will be working in a blind man’s home…” he croaks looking at the wall, turning his head slowly to the floor and he withdraws back into the shadows. “You’ll do.”

“I-I didn’t mean to-“

“No, you did not,” his voice seemed distant this time. “Here are the keys.”

On a single silver circle were 3 keys and a red label tag on each. Front door. Back door. Bedroom door. I pocketed the keys into my bag, unable to tear my gaze away from him sitting in the dark, fascinated and intimidated all at once.

“That’s it? I’m hired?” I asked.

“The one important…thing…” he croaked, coughing, covering his mouth, and regained himself. “You must do for me… is to never lie to me.”

I look at him out of the corner of my eye and shiver, moving my shoulders. He’s serious. Dead serious. Being in his presence burned something in me. Suddenly the atmosphere of the room shifted from being dreadful and dipped into a peaceful hush between him and me. His head tilted waiting for an answer.

“Of course,” I whispered.

He seems satisfied with my answer, leaning back, taking his cane, and pushing forward the little black book before leaving the room. He limps, turns his head in my direction, then leaves without another word. I look at the empty door frame, the book, and back to the door frame. I reached out and opened the book. It was a chores list of everything that needed to be done and completed in his home in a certain timeframe starting in the morning and ending precisely 12 hours later. My excitement is hard to contain! I finally achieved my summer job duties for the next couple of weeks! I scan through each page as fast as I can before realizing that it’s gorgeous. His handwriting (surprisingly) is very neat, thin, long curved, and beautiful, sitting perfectly on each double-spaced line perfectly. He may have lost his sight but he’s not as beastly as I thought. Before I know it he’s back in the room with me.

“I’ll be here early tomorrow morning. Thank you. I’ll do my best to make your home a happy one,” I smiled, looking into the empty doorframe. “Thank you Mr….”

My face goes red.

I don’t even know his name.

“You do not start tomorrow morning. There are some things that I need to prepare my home for before you arrive. I can’t risk another break-in. You start next week.”

I grab my bag and walk down the hallway and I can hear him thump around in the kitchen opening cabinets and shaking pots and pans, silverware, and silverware falling into the sink.

“Excuse me?”

“I need to prepare my basement before you arrive. There are some things I must do. Then you may begin.”

He turns on the faucet listening to the water splash over the porcelain bowls and heavy mugs clattering at the bottom of the sink. I watch him closely. He stares at the wall while both of his hands scan over every bowl, fork, mug, and knife and turns off the sink water before it reaches the rim. Lathering his hands in bubbles he grabs a rag and begins to rub and finger old coffee stains from a mug. I shrug tucking the book under my arm. He keeps his head perfectly balanced and straight, never once looking down or in any other direction. He’s completely in control.

“I don’t know your name…” I murmur, watching his hands look for a brush. “I’m Evey.”

For a moment he stops, and both his hands grasp the metallic edges of the sink, lowering his head down, listening this time. He turns towards me slowly as if he’s about to say something important. His knee twitches and he tries to hide it, but I can see he’s having a hard time standing on both legs. Limping and half-walking he steps closer to me until he’s standing nearly 3 feet away from me, breathing hard, looking at the ground and to my shoulder. This time I take a better look at his face and his milky white eyes and I’m completely entranced. Complete silence comes between us both and I’m not exactly sure what to do at this moment. My nose catches whiffs of wood (maybe cedar) and a certain musty smell mixed with fresh-cut grass and soap coming off of him. He may be a little older but he certainly doesn’t act or smell old at all. Not like other elderly people I’ve met, which I decided I liked about him. This man, this large intimidating man, uncurtained himself from the darkness and slowly devoured my name one morsel at a time.

“Evey…” he whispers, rolling my name around on his tongue.

He says my name slowly, taking time for him to fully appreciate the sharp and strong ‘E’ and ‘V’ that pronounces my whole name.

Even when he says my name it sounds delicious.

His eyes go to the window as he turns his head to the ground, tilting his head to the side, listening for my presence for as long as he can. In a second I see his hand reach out for mine and my gut suddenly ripples with butterflies looking at the scars across his knuckles and arms. This man has been through hell and high water and it shows. The scars completely covered his knuckles in little dashes and marks crisscrossing over each muscle with soft white tissue. His whole body was a canvas of scars and I wondered what kind of artist was responsible for it. Slowly my hand grasps his (the butterflies turn into sparkles of fire almost melting my insides) and we are finally introduced in a soft peaceful shake.

“Norman,” he murmurs, lifting his gaze to my forehead. His voice is gravelly when he speaks. “Norman Nordstrom…”

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letarasstuff · 4 years ago

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Minimal Loss - Maximal Stress

(A/N): This was requested by an anon and plays in the intern universe. It’s based on 4x3 “Mininal Loss”. I didn’t follow the exact plot, but the quint essence is there (you’ll see what I mean). I hope you enjoy it.

Summary: An intern goes along on a seemingly undangerous case with Emily and Spencer on a ranch under the lead of Benjamin Cyrus. What could go possibly wrong (well, everything ig)?

Warnings: Mentions of child abuse, guns, vomit, swear words, ususal Criminal Mind stuff

Wordcount: 2.9k

✨Masterlist✨ ________________________________

“Do you guys really think it’s a good idea to bring a child to an interview about child abuse?” Agent Lunde asks skeptically while steering the car towards the ranch, where the allegions originated from.

“(Y/N) is our intern and we thought she has to make some experience in the field and since this is the most peaceful case you can find within the BAU, it’s her opportunity”, Emily defends the team’s decision.

“Also, she is nearly the same age as the girls, so it’s easier for them to open up to her and she is incredibly bright, meaning she can help us deducing a profile”, Spencer adds. The teenager doesn’t acknowledge anything they say, too engrossed in listening to One Direction over her bluetooth earbuds.

Soon the quartet arrives at the Saptarian ranch. “I’m looking for Benjamin Cyrus.” “You found him”, answers the man, who sits in front of a chapel.

“He really is nicely placed. I feel like I looked like this in my math classes. I was like beautiful decoration, but had no use”, (Y/N) whispers to Emily. She in turn has a look of confusion on her face. “You aced math, you graduated with an A+ in it.” “Just because I have good grades doesn’t mean I’m not stupid. I mean, I’m educated, but stoopid.”

A little later she sits across from a blonde girl named Jessica, asking her questions about the 911 call. Her mother continuously steps into that conversation.

“Jessica, can you tell me, if anyone here were ever touched inappropriately?” “Is this really necessary? You are a child yourself, shouldn’t ask one of the other agents the questions?” Slowly the teenager’s patience is wearing down and Spencer can definitely see that from five meters away.

“Ma’am, with all due respect, but I’m perfectly capable of conducting this interview, if you stop interrupting me. I may be young, which doesn’t stand in my way of being an intern for CPS and still knowing my way around, so please step to me colleagues or something and let me do my job.” Hesitantly the mother gives the two girls their space.

As soon as she is out of earshot, Jessica begins to explain. “Nobody is touched in a way they shouldn’t be touched. Or is it wrong for a wife to share a bed with her husband.”

(Y/N) remembers Emily telling her to not judge anything anyone of the girls will say. But damn it, this girl is really hard not to judge.

“Wait wait wait. Let me get this straight: You are simping for that walking quote machine?” Okay, maybe she is judging. But just a little bit.

“If simping means deeply in love then yes, I am simping for Benjamin Cyrus, my husband.” At this point the other three agents get closer again. “Jessica, the state of Colorado demands parental consent. You aren’t married to him unles-'' The black haired woman cuts the young doctor off. “She did give consent.”

(Y/N) can barely contain the unsurprised “surprised” gasp leaving her mouth. But it would have been cut short nonetheless, since sudden gunfire erupted outside the school building.

Fairly quickly everybody is evacuated through the tunnels. As Cyrus tells the cult members to trust in god, the teenager turns to the agents. “This much to it’s safe for me here. Didn’t anybody check for weapons or something?” Flabbergasted because of the whole situation Spencer answers. “Yes, Garcia checked with the authorities and nothing was suspicious.”

Suddenly Lunde takes all the courage she has (maybe because a teenager she brought into this is in immediate danger like all the other kids) and goes up with the cult leader to speak to the shooting law enforcement officers. Shortly after the other three get the message of her death.

But they don’t have any time to think about her, since they all are shoved into the chapel.

While Cyrus holds a speech about trust in god in dangerous and trying times like this the BAU in Quantico learns about the shooting through the tv news report.

“HOTCH”, Morgan yells up to the Unit Chief’s office, probably giving everybody else a heart attack. Alarmed Aaron storms out into the bullpen followed by Rossi, who is attracted by the tumult. “Aren’t Prentiss and Reid on that ranch?” Derek asks, his eyebrows furrowing in worry.

Squinting at the screen, horror etches on the other agent’s face. “(Y/N) is also there”, he says, realizing that they sent a minor with zero field experience into a lava hot situation.

Suddenly the whole bullpen’s phones ring, which results in Hotch barking his first commands.

After a nightflight to Colorado the team sets up at the crime scene.

“Dave, I was appointed to determine the primary negotiator”, Aaron tells him after he pulls him to the side. “It makes sense. I trained most of the people here, if you want me I can give you a few recommendations.” But the Unit Chief shakes his head. “No, I want you to be the negotiator in this.”

Now it’s Rossi’s turn to shake his head. “Aaron, I can’t do it, I’m too emotionally involved.” “So are all of us and why should I take the student if I can have the teacher?” The older one sighs in resignation and accepts the offer. They don’t have the team nor reccourses for any mistakes in this.

As he goes to prepare for his task at hand, Hotch hears a man complaining loudly. “I demand to talk to know why I wasn't told that the FBI was sending undercover agents into the Saptarian ranch?” “The only thing you are in position to demand is a lawyer”, he says while stepping closer to the scene.

“Who the hell are you?” The man spits out into his direction. “I’m Aaron Hotchner, Unit Chief. I’m the guy who is gonna tell the Attorney General of the United States whether to charge you with obstructing a federal investigation or negligent homicide.” “You can’t talk to me like that”.

Upon closing the little bit of space between both of them, Aaron stares him down. “Get off my crime scene.” Just a few seconds of the intense and pissed Hotch Stare are enough to chase that man down to his car and go on his way to Coward Island.

Meanwhile the first contact is made, Emily and Spencer tell (Y/N) in hushed voices what the situation means. “There are three groups here. The leader, in this case Cyrus. The hard die hard believers, the goons of him, and the followers”, Spencer explains.

“In a case like this we go for minimal loss. We try to get as many of the followers out as possible, because the rest won’t give up as long as they can breathe. At first we go with one or two people, children mostly, then with smaller groups and in the end we get out as many of these people we can. Soon, there will be the first supply delivery from our team, but it’s gonna be bugged, which means we know they are listening. Understood?” Emily adds.

Aside from the knowledge that there is a great possibility that they won’t come out alive of this one, (Y/N) is pretty calm. “Honestly, it’s pretty extra here. I mean I can’t even, look at the walls and the whole pseudo decoration. Why would anybody choose this willingly? But yeah, I understand.” Seeing that these phrases are a kind of a coping mechanism, the two agents aren’t too concerned about her right now. I mean, of course they are pretty much on edge because they all are in a hostage situation, but since the teenager doesn’t seem to be on the verge of a breakdown she has to be fine.

“Is there anything you want to know?” The black haired woman asks, stroking the younger one’s hair out of her face. “No, not right now. This is anything but basic, but I’ll hit you up if something shoots into my mind.”

When Rossi comes in to hand make the first delivery, he looks beyond worried. It seems like he got years older in the span of the last 24 hours. As he glances through the rows of people, he subtly acknowledges their presence and well being.

“How do we know this will be nothing like Waco?” (Y/N) asks out of the blue as all the members get a cup of wine. Surprised Emily turns towards her. “You know about Waco?” “Duh? I told you, I’m educated. So, how do we kno-” “And together we drank the poison.” “Oh well, I guess we do now. It’s nearly iconic how bad his acting is.” Now both of the agents look confused at her.

“What? Didn’t I tell you that I was a theater kid? Also, his goons are writing the reactions down, so it’s just a test to know who to separate from the group and who not.” Even in a situation like this a girl in a red and black flannel over a white graphic tee - it is a Doctor Who Tardis - astounds them.

Not long after this, the three of them are shoved into a small room, which looks sort of like an office.

“Which one of you is it?” Cyrus asks. Confused Prentiss, Reid and the intern look at him. When nobody speaks up he pulls out his gun. “One of you is an FBI agent. So who is it?”

In the short silence he points his weapon at (Y/N). “Oof. Dude, what the fu-” “She is a child. The FBI doesn’t recruit children. But she is a good leverage. So, if neither of you reveals their identity, I will blow her brain out.” This is the final point for the teenager to slowly freak out.

“It’s me. I’m the FBI agent”, Emily confesses. Seeing the young girl with panic in her eyes sets something off in her. Roughly she is taken away by two big guys.

“No no no! This can’t be right. Nobody of us is from the feds. It’s not her, you stupid piece of boom-” With a swift motion of his gun Cyrus knocks her out.

“Damn, this is an annoying one. I don’t know how you can even take her seriously.”

(Y/N) wakes up half an hour later in the chapel draped over two stools with her head in Spencer’s lap. He strokes her hair while his mind is running non stop looking for a solution to this situation. A groan tells him that she is awake.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” The young doctor asks in a soft voice. “If good means your head feels like it’s dancing samba without me, then I’m good.”

He smiles. “We are going to get out here, soon. I convinced Cyrus that we are on his side. He also won’t hurt Emily any further. I saw her earlier, he held a speech. She is fine, just a bit roughen up.”

To lie to the girl like that feels wrong to Reid, but he can see signs of a concussion by her behavior and doesn’t want to worry her more than she already is.

Three o’clock rolls closer and closer, which makes both of them more nervous. Because of the lack of communication they don’t know the tactic the team will use to come in. They can only hope that they all come out alive and in one piece.

Since they are in the chapel, their attention is solely on the cult leader. They don’t even notice all the women and children leaving. As (Y/N) and Spencer spot Cyrus with the remote for detonating the explosives, she mumbles “Let’s get this bread”.

When the leader sees Spencer trying to convince one of the die hard believers that he has a choice to change his mind, he punches the young doctor so hard in the gut that even (Y/N), whose vision is slightly blurred, feels the pain he endures.

“Hey Cyrus”, she calls out, “TBH I think all the shit you are doing here didn’t pass my vibe check. Also, the whole system is pretty whack.”

“You are a child, you don’t know anything. If god doesn’t want me to do any of this, he would stop me.” As Cyrus cocks his gun towards Spencer, Derek runs in and shoots him in the chest twice.

(Y/N) crosses her arms over her chest, says “Ok, Boomer” and rolls her eyes.

“Are you ok, princess?” Morgan asks, going over to her and examining the wound on the side of her head. “Never felt better now that there are two Derek Morgans to protect me.” Concerned he goes to say something else, but is cut short by Spencer shouting “RUN!”.

A look behind them shows Jessica short circuiting upon her husband’s death and grabbing the remote.

When the explosion erupts, Emily looks terrified at the remains of the chapel.

“Morgan! Reid! (Y/N)!” She shouts, followed by the other members and their calls after the three. A certain fear captures every single one of them. If only one of them is- No. Nobody can go through this thought. They are going to be fine. They are alive and-

“Thank god”, JJ breathes as she spots three limping figures. They slowly approach the group of four. “EMILY!” The teenager shouts relieved, though a little loud for the proximity between them. “SPENCER WOULDN’T REALLY TELL ME HOW YOU ARE! YOU LOOK TERRIBLE! THANK HARRY STYLES YOU ARE FINE!” Yes, the explosion definitely messed all of their hearings up, since Morgan and Reid also speak with the same volume.

Emily hugs her. “I’m okay. But you need to get checked out.” But the teenager vehemently shakes her head as she hugs Aaron. “I DON’T NEED TO”, when she sees her teammate’s faces, she reduces her loudness. “I am ok. But Spencer, he got a good blow to his guts. I think the Queen in England even felt that vibe check.”

As Derek escorted the young doctor to one of the awaiting ambulances, JJ also gently stirs the girl in the same direction. “Just let a doctor look over your head, it looks like a nasty cut and believe me, you want to get this checked out, Honey.” “But Jayje-” She begins to complain, but gets cut off by bile rising up her throat. In the next moment (Y/N) kneels on the floor, letting out anything she got in her system over the course of the past few days.

“I think this is nothing your body should do, Bambi”, Rossi adds up. Unwillingly the intern goes with the blonde mother to the EMTs. They decide to have a doctor looking over her and getting her x-rays done at the hospital.

A few hours and uncountable complaints from (Y/N) later, the team is back on the jet on their way home. She thanked Emily in a heartfelt moment in the hospital shortly after she got pain killers, which made her loopy, for saving her life by putting her own on the line by exposing her identity. Even Prentiss had tears in her eyes as she saw the young and innocent girl so frayed by the just occured events.

Unusual for Rossi, he takes a seat on the sofa, petting his lap as (Y/N) sits beside him. With pleasure she lays her head onto it, cuddling closer into the fuzzy blanket she got from Morgan.

A few minutes into the flight, Rossi just got into describing the interviews he conducted with Ted Bundy, Aaron motions him to make space. David excuses himself with the reasoning of getting a cup of tea for her.

“I’m sorry”, Hotch says as he runs his hands through his youngest employee’s hair. He is careful to not mess with the bandage she has on the side of her head. Confused (Y/N) looks up to him. “What for?” “For sending you into a situation, where you got seriously hurt.”

This makes the girl sit up, though her world once again begins to spin. “Aaron Hotchner, I hope you don’t mean that. You nor anybody else knew that this was going to happen. You only wanted for me to get as much experience as possible while this internship lasts and I tell you, with that story I’ll go viral on TikTok. Just because I got a medium severe concussion and a wound, which hopefully will leave a badass scar, doesn’t mean you have to apologize. But you can do me one favor.” “Anything.” “When I fall asleep, please make sure I don’t choke on my own vomit. The doctor told me it could happen, that’s why I am not allowed to fall asleep unsupervised. But I haven’t slept in three days and I think I'm beginning to feel uncomfy because of that.”

Smiling softly Hotch nods and lets the teenager take her original place in his lap. Minutes later she is fast asleep. But one thing is certain: As soon as she wakes up and feels any better, she is going to tell everybody who wants to listen about the one time where she got blown up by a fifteen years old girl, who was married to a cult leader. And nobody is gonna believe her tea. Except for Penelope, who greets (Y/N) with a hug and the promise to never let her out of her eyesight.

All works:

@agentshortstacc

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl

Spencer Reid:

@calm-and-doctor

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x teen!reader #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x teen!reader #derek morgan x teen!reader #jennifer jareau x teen!reader #aaron hotch x teen!reader #david rossi x teen!reader #criminal minds fanfiction #Criminal Minds #x teen!reader #reader insert

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soramei · 3 years ago

Text

Intentional - Part 1

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader (she/her)

Summary: Landing your first real job at JYPE was something short of a miracle. You were prepared to face the new struggles of this elusive career whilst moving to a new country, however, nothing could have prepared you for him. Will stolen glances, secret touches, and hushed nights spent in the recording room ever be enough for the both of you?

Genre: idol!bang chan au, forbidden relationship, coworkers to eventual lovers, slow burn

Warnings: none right now, eventual smut,

Word Count: 7.3k

Masterlist

A/N: hey yall this is my first ff im posting on tumblr :D im kinda scared to post but i hope anybody who stumbles on lil ol’ me will join me along the way :) also important!!! i made oc/reader asian cus i am lol (and this whole thing is basically a glorified self insert) so plz keep this in mind when reading!! oh god i didnt realize how slow this first part was sry...

The cold silence of the room felt like stabs at your inside. You commanded your feet to stop bouncing up and down as you unconsciously started to bite off the dead skin of your bottom lip. The white corporate light from above reflected off your brand new lanyard hanging delicately from your neck. You felt the coarse blue fabric rub against your neck as you mindlessly fiddled with your lanyard; the newly printed photo of your face stared back at you with a smile.

The creak of the door to your left was what broke you from your nervous fidgets. Whipping your head up from your lanyard, you immediately stood up ready to bow to whoever came through that door.

It was a girl. She looked around the same age as you, if not older. Her attire was what gave her away. Her appearance essentially mirrored yours: hair tied back into a ponytail with a white blouse and black work pants. She also had the familiar blue ‘JYPE’ labeled strap hanging from her neck.

“Hello,” you spoke meekly, scared to disturb the cold silence that had a hold on the room you were in.

“Hello,” she replied. “My name is Choi Na-eun, I’m the new social media strategist intern and today is my first day.”

This is so relieving, you thought, another newbie to share the stress with me.

“This is my first day too,” you perked up, “I’ll be starting as the new junior Chinese marketing assistant.”

Getting the acceptance email from JYP Entertainment was definitely a high point in your life. The feeling of butterflies swarming your insides as you clicked the email open only to see your acceptance was immediately locked as a core memory. All the years of memorizing thousands of Korean and English vocabulary flashcards, the panic attacks before your finance exams, and the many, many late night coffee breaks were worth it the moment you received your first legitimate job offer, and from the esteemed JYP Entertainment company no less.

“Chinese marketing?” Na-eun asked. “So you aren’t from here, I take it.”

You shook your head. “I am from China. I completed my degree a while ago with a major in Language and a minor in Business. To be honest, I’ve done internships back home, but it’s been my dream to move to a new country.”

All of what you said was true. Up until now, your surroundings have never changed in all of your twenty-three years living. From the walk with your grandmother to daycare to the vast campus of your university, the view of your city has never changed. Your social circle stayed stagnant since you were able to talk and your love life was — for a lack of a better word — uneventful.

It wasn’t until the day you decided to start applying for careers outside your home country that you felt hopeful. Hopeful that you could find an escape from your inert lifestyle and escape the burnout and stress that has been building up over the years. And so, on a day when you were feeling unusually confident, you gathered up the courage and spent hours sending out applications to organizations all over Asia that pertained to your specific degree. The applications were mainly for small jobs at small companies, however, your strange spike of motivation gave you the confidence to apply to the everso esteemed JYP Entertainment located in Korea. Of course you knew about this company — you and your friends played songs by ‘Twice’ nonstop back in highschool — but you didn’t realize the full power that this company had on the entertainment market until you did your full research. To say that you thought you had no chance was an understatement. This application was so far of a reach that you purposefully forced your mind to erase all memory of even applying.

However, with your education, your work experience, and whatever tiny bit of luck you had, you somehow made it through the initial application process. Then the next. And the next. Then the interview. And now, you were nervously sitting in this white painted room with Na-eun, in a completely new country, waiting for your manager to come greet you.

“So you’re from China? You’ve got to teach me chinese sometime.” Na-eun smiled.

You giggled in return while nodding your head. You were relieved that you’ve met a potential friend so early in your career in this company. This was one of your big worries. With your social circle being so stagnant for the majority of your life back in China, you rarely had the opportunity to meet new people, much less make new friends.

You were about to inquire more into Na-eun’s life when the door to your left abruptly opened. In the blink of an eye, three new people strutted in — two women and one man. They seemed to be higher status than you and Na-eun judging by their attire. All three were styled in some type of blazer and dress pants and there was no lanyard to be found on any of them.

“Hello new employees,” the man greeted. Judging by his face, he looked to be in his late thirties at the least. His hair was styled back neatly and his lips slanted up, giving him a fox-like appearance. “I am Executive Manager Kim. Joined beside me on the left is Social Media Manager An and to my right is Marketing Manager Chen.”

Both you and Na-eun immediately stood up to bow and introduce yourselves.

“Hello. My name is Choi Na-eun, I’m the new social media strategist intern.” Na-eun said.

“Hello. My name is y/n, I’m the new junior Chinese marketing assistant.” You repeated after her, copying exactly what she said. You did not want to screw anything up on your first day, especially your first impression.

Manager Kim reached over to Na-eun, introducing himself and giving her a firm handshake. He then slowly moved over to you, and reached for your hand.

“Y/n,” he gave time for your name to settle on his tongue as he gave a sly smile. “You’re not from here, aren't you?”

You shook your head ‘no’. “No, sir. I’m from China where I studied language and business. I hope to do well here as the Chinese marketing assistant.” You replied, mentally cursing yourself for sounding so timid.

“I’m glad to hear,” Manager Kim chuckled, “I’m sure you’ll treat me and your other managers well.”

You felt an uncomfortable shiver pass through you as he brushed his thumb along your hand before letting go. This feeling was excused as nervousness, after all, this was your first day and your first time meeting your higher-ups.

You introduced yourself to Manager Chen, assuming that she would be the one you were to assist in your time here at JYPE. Judging by her last name, you presumed that she was Chinese as well.

“Forgive me for being so straight up Manager Chen, but are you Chinese?” You asked.

“That is alright, y/n,” she smiled, “I’m not. My Husband is, but I’ve lived in China for more than half my life. I don’t want to brag, but my mandarin has gotten proficient over the past decade or so.”

Proficient? It’s amazing. You thought. This first day was turning out better than you thought. Other than the weird feeling you received from Manager Kim, everything was turning out splendid. A potential friend and a manager that could speak your first language.

“Since it’s about noon right now,” Manager Kim took a look at his watch, “What do you all think about some lunch?”

The other managers nod their heads in agreement and gestures for you and Na-eun to follow them out of the waiting room you were in for so long.

The whole building seemed so clean. With every corner lit, by natural light or artificial light, you could clearly see that every room, every piece of furniture and decor had been purposefully placed. You couldn’t help but have a stupid look of awe plastered on your face as you mindlessly follow your superiors over to the cafeteria.

You turned your head over to Na-eun and gave her a tilt of the eyebrow, silently saying wow, this is where we work.

With the turn of a corner and several silent strides, your little group made it to the cafeteria.

The difference between your claustrophobic waiting room and this vast room was astonishing. With countless tables and romantic yellow lighting, this place almost resembled a five star restaurant. You’ve never seen a cafeteria as extravagant and clean as this before. However, to be fair, you’ve never had the experience of working with such a large corporation before.

The managers led you to the serving station where you grabbed yourself a tray and proceeded to spoon small portions of rice and side dishes onto your plate. This cuisine was different to what you were used to, but nonetheless looked delicious. You were prepared for the small cultural differences, especially with the food, but from everything you’ve witnessed so far, the culture shock would be easier to overcome than what you’ve anticipated.

“Have this soup y/n,” Manager Kim’s grating voice came from in front of you, interrupting your inner monologue. “It’s good for your complexion.”

As Manager Kim hands over the bowl of soup, you feel the sleeve of his blazer brush up against your shoulder, causing the pit of your stomach to drop.

First day nerves. That was what this feeling was. You thought.

You quietly thanked him with a small nod and walked briskly from the service line, trying to find where Na-eun went with the other two managers. Thankfully, they were just a step away and you quickly made your way over to the comfortable spot beside Na-eun. She gave you a small grin and you both followed your way to a table right in the middle of the room.

Soon, all five chairs of the table got filled and sounds of chopsticks tapping and scraping against plates and bowls filled your ears. An awkward silence dominates your table as you start to pick at your food.

“So,” Manager Chen cleared her throat, “after lunch I was thinking we should go to a meeting room and discuss Miss. Y/n’s role in our new project.”

“I was thinking the same for our new Intern Choi.” Manager An cut in, “What do you think, Manager Kim?”

“It all sounds good. I will be accompanying Manager Chen to her meeting room as I wish to also further discuss the preliminary steps for our project.” Manager Kim looked from Manager Chen over to you.

“Project?” You ask.

“We’ve had a very successful year with our idol groups and we wanted to ride this success and start marketing in China. Recently, we’ve noticed a very large and growing Chinese audience for this group. I’m sure you’re very curious now, however we can discuss further details once we are in the meeting room.” Manager Chen replies while taking a sip of the water in her glass.

Manager Chen appeared to be a very professional and respectable woman. With prominent collarbones and wide shoulders, she easily looked the part of a confident and adored manager. She needed minimal makeup to highlight her tall cheekbones, and even with a short heel on her feet she seemed to tower over you. However, her warm and comforting voice was what broke her intimidating demeanour. Just listening to her voice felt like you were back in your high school classroom with your favourite teacher explaining the motif of a sad love poem.

After some more awkward conversations mixed with a few work discussions, the five of you finished the delicious food on your trays.

“Please excuse me whilst I head to the restroom” Na-eun spoke up after your group finished clearing the table.

“Please excuse me as well.” You quickly followed, bowing as you both ventured off to the washrooms.

I should get her number so I’m not completely a loner in this place, you thought to yourself. And so, after a quick inner struggle to speak up, you finally decided to ask.

“Hey, should we exchange contacts? I don’t wanna look like the newbie eating in the cafeteria alone after today.” You chuckled.

“Totally!” Na-eun beamed. “I was actually thinking the same thing…”

And so, you both quickly exchanged each other's contact as you made your way to the restrooms.

The hall of the washrooms were narrow, hidden away from the main cafeteria. You walked in, deciding you only wanted to retouch your hair and makeup before your first official meeting. You carefully fix the loose hairs that somehow escaped the confines of your elastic and dab on a fresh layer of foundation before applying your lipstick which rubbed off while eating. Looking over at Na-eun, you see she’s quite in the zone redoing her mascara.

“Hey, I’ll just wait for you in the hall.” You said.

Na-eun gave you a disinterested nod back as she kept focusing on her mascara.

You walked to the end of the hall, leaned against the wall, and pulled out your phone. Smiling, you opened the virtual Tamagotchi app and saw your little friend staring back at you, bouncing up and down. The bundle of virtual pixels happily bounced as you fed and bathed it, making you happier in return. Playing this game, you were so entranced with your phone that the abrupt closing of the washroom doors broke you out of your hypnosis fast, causing you to flinch and drop your phone.

You looked up, only to see a brown haired man wearing a long sleeved black shirt. The hem of his sleeve fell, covering his hand as he bent down to pick up your phone. He stood back up, fully facing you now and you immediately recognized who he was. You weren’t a fool, of course you did all your research on the artists of JYPE before applying for the job. Looking down at you right now, holding your phone in his hand, was Bang Chan of Stray Kids.

The wispy tufts of his brown hair bounced over his forehead as he stepped over to you. He smiled, his dimple poking out of his cheek, and handed your phone back to you. “I think you dropped this.”

Blushing tomato red, you embarrassingly accepted the phone, trying not to make your shaking hands noticeable. It seemed like that failed, however, as you noticed him glance at your hands and dimple grow deeper.

“Thank you.” You meekly chirped and lowered your head, still in awe that you somehow bumped into a JYPE idol in the bathroom hallway of a cafeteria.

“It’s good that there’s no cracks.” Bang Chan said, looking in your eyes.

You looked back into his eyes. His smile never left his face, and you physically felt the warmth radiating off his body like rays from the sun. Some boring, objective part of your brain knew this interaction only lasted a fraction of a second, but you swore that time froze.

“Hyung!” A distant voice called.

Your trance was broken as Bang Chan looked over to the person calling his name. He turned back to you, politely bowed, and casually sauntered over to the man who called him.

What just happened? Your inner monologue ran, still trying to process the embarrassing interaction. The scent of his cologne lingered, swirling the atmosphere around your body.

Thankfully, you didn’t have too much time to dwell on this interaction as Na-eun finally opened the washroom doors and was making her way toward you.

You and Na-eun trailed behind the managers until you reached the set of elevators. It was there where you had to unfortunately separate from your comfort work buddy as she hopped in the elevator across from yours with Manager An. The other two managers led you to the elevator at the end and pressed the button for your destination floor. The ride in the elevator was silent. You stood there, fiddling with your nails.

Once the elevator gave the ding of arrival, the three of you headed down a hall where you presumed had the meeting room.

Manager Kim took a look at the watch on his wrist. “We are a minute late, everybody should be there already. Enter silently and respectfully.” He said in a stern voice.

You reached the frosted glass door of the meeting room and entered through the already opened door. The managers followed behind you with Manager Chen being the last one in and closing the door.

Your eyes widened at whom you saw.

There was Bang Chan, who sat in all his glory, staring right into your eyes with his mouth ajar. His shocked expression didn't last long, however, as he quickly composed himself to fit with the professional atmosphere of this room.

But why was he here? You thought. He’s an artist, isn’t this a management meeting?

Your inner monologue was broken by Manager Kim’s stern voice. “Y/n, why don’t you sit with me for today?” He asked with a slight tilt of the lips. His hand was hovering above your back, almost guiding you to the seat just right of the head chair.

Your heart rate quickened. There was no way that you could handle sitting right beside a high position manager on your first day. You barely knew what your duties entailed, you definitely could not handle the pressure of this seat today. You whipped your head around to look for Manager Chen. She was already sitting in her seat, looking like she was right at home.

“Manager Kim, if you don’t mind, I would like to sit in this position for today, '' a voice spoke up, “I have a lot of new ideas I’d like to share that are written in my notes.”

Bang Chan.

He paused a brief second, eyes switching between you and Manager Kim, and raised his iPad to show the screen filled with words.

“I don’t mind at all, go ahead.” Manager Kim monotonously replied. He then made his way to the head chair.

You looked over at Bang Chan, trying to subtly send the most grateful facial expression over to him. He returned your look, slightly grinning as his fingers tapped on the screen of his iPad and sat down to the right of Manager Kim. You looked over to see Manager Chen gesturing you to sit in the chair beside her and swiftly made your way over. At your seat, she handed you a notepad and pen, both adorned with the JYPE logo.

“Now, as of 1:02 p.m., September first, the meeting will officially begin.” Manager Kim clasped his hands together on top of the table. “As most of you already know, we are in the preliminary stages of planning a Chinese debut for our artist group ‘Stray Kids’. All we have right now is the estimated timeline, which is four months. We have a basic grasp of the concept we are working towards, however, as you all know, trends are always changing and growing. While we are working to create a new and original concept for Stray Kids, we also want the concept to gather as much audience reception as possible.”

Wow. That was a lot to take in. Your hands struggled to keep up with writing down what Manager Kim was saying. You knew this relatively new group was really starting to explode in the past year, but a debut in another country? This group must work really hard to even have the company consider a step as risky as this. So this is why Bang Chan is also involved in this meeting.

You peaked your head up from your notepad. Bang Chan sat across from you, one hand on his chin and the other one holding the pen to his tablet.

Manager Kim then carefully discussed the duties that each group in the room would take. Many of the jobs were directly involved with developing the concept itself, such as producing music, concept art, and theme development. Your pen never took a break from gliding on the notepad as you hurriedly jotted down everything that Manager Kim said.

Eventually, Manager Kim’s delegations moved to Manager Chen. “Manager Chen, I’ll let you take over from here.”

“Thank you Manager Kim,” Manager Chen cleared her throat. “While my main job here was to market Korean comebacks towards the Chinese audience, this new project changes things up a bit. Now, not only will I be in charge of marketing to the Chinese audience, but I will also be directly in charge of the concept itself. I will be working carefully with our team in China to monitor the trends which we can incorporate into our debut.

“This is my new assistant, y/n,” She turned and gestured to you. You politely nodded your head. “She will be gathering information on useful trends and reporting back to me, as well as some translating. Please report any ideas that you deem useful to her by the end of every week for her to sort through and deliver to me.”

You almost want to call Manager Chen crazy for giving you so much power, after all, you were only starting out as her assistant. Despite this, however, you were determined to go above and beyond with the new responsibilities given to you, after all, you knew that choosing to work in an organization as big as JYPE would take blood, sweat, and tears.

After some clarifications given by Manager Chen and a few more questions directed at her, Manager Kim took the reins back in his hands.

“Now, as I’m sure you all know, this is Bang Chan: the leader of Stray Kids. Although our management team is in charge of this debut, we like to include the opinions of artists whenever possible. He will make an appearance whenever he can and act as a representative of Stray Kids, sharing their ideas and opinions.” Manager Kim explained.

Bang Chan politely introduced himself, and quickly went on to express some concerns of his members. He made sure that each concern was answered thoroughly by Manager Kim before moving on to the next.

“As for our concept ideas,” Bang Chan’s soft brown eyes met yours, “will I have to report to y/n?”

You felt your ears redden.

“You could, yes,” Manager Kim straightened his back, “but if you find the weekly deadlines too much of a problem, you may just report to me or at any subsequent meeting.”

“No worries sir,” Bang Chan’s eyes lingered on yours for a fraction of a second more before grinning at Manager Kim, “I’m always punctual.”

The rest of the meeting consisted of more introductions and preliminary plans. After about an hour, everybody seemed satisfied with the contents of the meeting and were starting to pack up all their clutter on the table. You looked over at Manager Chen, silently asking what should I do next?

Manager Chen smiled. “Let's head to my floor. I can give you a quick tour, you can get settled at your desk. I have some paperwork that I’m almost done with; I’m sure you’ll have no problem finishing it for me.” She already was standing up and straightening over the creases of her jacket.

You stood up as well and followed behind Manager Chen like a lost baby duckling. You both made your way over to Manager Kim to bid farewell. You politely thanked him, said your goodbyes, and were about to leave when he stopped the two of you.

“Manager Chen, let’s go out for drinks tonight.” Manager Kim took a look at the intricate watch on his wrist. “With our whole team, of course. It’ll be a welcoming night and we can get to know the people on our team better.”

“That’s a great idea, Manager Kim,” Manager Chen nodded at his idea in approval. She turned on her iPad to quickly get a glimpse at her schedule. “What do you think y/n? Can you make it tonight? I know this is very last moment, but I think it’ll be a great opportunity for you to get to know your coworkers better.”

“I should be able to make it.” You definitely could make it. You had no plans anyways.

“Am I invited to this top secret party you’re all having?” A now very distinguishable voice came from behind you. Bang Chan stared at Manager Kim with a very mischievous expression.

“Would your manager allow it?” Manager Kim questioned, knitting his eyebrows.

“I’m on a diet, so I can’t drink alcohol or eat anything,” Bang Chan’s nose scrunched up in annoyance, “but I want to be as involved as I can. Just because I’m an idol doesn’t mean I can’t help behind the scenes as well.”

“Very well,” Manager Kim nodded with a fixed expression, “Let’s all meet at that restaurant about a block away west. I’ll go tell the others.” And with that, Manager Kim left you, Manager Chen, and Bang Chan to stand in awkward silence.

“Well,” Bang Chan cleared his throat and clapped his hands together, “I’ll get going as well to do some work now, but it was nice meeting the both of you.”

“You as well.” Manager Chen replied for the both of you and Bang Chan left soon after.

Manager Chen then led you to the elevators again and you headed up yet another few floors to reach your destination. You nervously fiddled with your hair as you silently waited behind your boss, looking up at the smooth lines of her blazer every few seconds. The elevator doors dinged, letting you know of its arrival. The two of you swiftly headed out the elevators and walked to what you presumed was Manager Chen’s office area. You kept following behind Manager Chen in silence before you stopped in front of a set of doors that looked identical to the ones at the previous meeting room. Manager Chen opened the doors for you, and you headed in.

You paused a step in, looking wide-eyed at the interior. The office was clean. A big glass desk sat right in the middle of the vast room in front of a huge set of windows. There were a couple of soft looking chairs placed right before the desk with a huge rug right underneath it. Over to your left, you spotted a water dispenser with a kettle right beside it. You stared at the room a bit longer before realizing you must have looked very stupid with that astonished look on your face.

“Is this your office, Manager Chen?” You asked.

“Yes. It seems that you like it,” She chuckled. You felt the heat rise to your ears.

“Since you’ll be working so close to me, I’m sure you’ll be happy to come here more often.”

“Thanks.” You awkwardly laughed. You blamed your bad response on the fact that you still weren’t familiar with the language, not your blatant awkwardness.

Manager Chen made her way over to her desk, picking up a small stack of papers. “These are some letters I’ve received from several designer companies in China. Since we are still in the very preliminary stages of this project, we would like to keep our options open for the stylists here.” She picks an annotated letter from the pile. “I’ve translated and created a summary of the main points of this letter. There are a few more left which I believe I can trust you with. Just do as I did with this letter and add the sample pictures along with it.”

You quickly complied, taking the stack of papers from her hands.

“I’ll show you to your new work space.” She led you out of your office and over to a cubicle that wasn’t too far away. It was considerably smaller compared to Manager Chen’s office, but you thought it had a certain coziness to it. Plus, working close to your coworkers could also boost your motivation. “Here is your desk, it’s not the most exciting thing, but you may bring photos or whatnot to decorate it. Now, I’ll let you settle in and get started on your work. You can meet me at my office around six, I can double check your work before we leave.”

You thanked her before she left and immediately got started on your work. You diligently translated the whole of the letters before picking out the main points that matched with Manager Chen’s example. After this was done, you included the photos that came with each letter and slipped them into their own cozy folder. This work was monotonous, sure, but it was something you needed on your hectic first day here.

You were so captivated by your work that you completely forgot about the time. The sun was starting to set, and you only remembered to look at the time after you tucked your last letter neatly in its folder. You briefly panicked, praying that you weren’t making your manager wait. Thankfully, it was only a quarter until six. You took the next fifteen minutes double checking your work, making sure to also check the time every once in a while. At exactly six, you left your desk and scurried over to the big doors of Manager Chen’s office.

Knocking a couple times, you waited patiently to be let in.

“Come in.”

You let yourself in, handing the papers to your manager, then sat quietly in one of the chairs before her desk, crossing your fingers together. You fiddled with your thumbs, patiently waiting for Manager Chen to speak up.

“Not bad, this is some decent work.” Manager Chen announced as soon as she finished glossing over your work. “I’ve noted some places that you can either fix or improve. I’ll scan them and hand you a copy tomorrow.”

You let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding. A tidal wave of relief washed over you as you let yourself relax further into your chain. Not bad, this is some decent work. You proudly repeated this moment in your brain. Although you were disappointed with the mistakes that you let slip through, to get somewhat of a compliment on your first day meant a lot to you.

“Shall we get going now?” Manager Chen asked.

You grabbed your bag and stood up. “I’ll let you lead the way.”

_______

It seemed like all you were doing on your first day was following Manager Chen around like a lost puppy. The situation right now was no exception either, as you tried to copy her confident strides over to the restaurant a block down. You watched the busy rush hour streets and sidewalks fill with people, some people going home after a long day, some people going to party just like you.

Soon, after a few more minutes of walking, the both of you arrived at the small wooden doors of the restaurants. It seemed like the both of you were a bit late as Manager Kim was already waiting in front of the entrance with the rest of the team. Bang Chan was also there, head down looking at his phone.

“Sorry we’re late, have you been waiting for long?” Manager Chen somehow sounded confident despite making everybody wait on her.

Her voice seemed to have caught everybody’s attention. You watched as Bang Chan swiftly turned his head up from his phone, his eyes making contact with yours. You immediately focused your eyes somewhere else, trying to casually play off the fact that your eyes subconsciously drifted to him.

“We’ve only been waiting for a couple minutes.” Manager Kim gave a tight smile. “Let’s go in before you all get too cold.”

Your little group of around ten people slowly entered the doors, filling the restaurant. Manager Kim called over a waitress, signaling that you had ten people in your group, and let the waitress lead you all to a long wooden table.

The restaurant was nice, nothing too fancy, but that’s how you could tell the food was good. With dim lighting and tightly packed tables, it made you feel fuzzy and warm on the inside.

However, your thoughts on the restaurant were soon broken by a hand on your shoulder.

“Y/n, why don’t you sit with me?” Manager Kim’s lips curled up, “After all, this is a work gathering, how good of a boss would I be if I didn’t even treat my newest team member to a drink?”

Your brain was in shambles. You seriously didn’t feel comfortable sitting with him all night. However, the logical side of your brain was saying something different. He’s just being nice as a boss. You don’t know how people in this country act anyways, stop being paranoid.

It seemed like your inner turmoil was taking longer than necessary, as you heard another familiar voice speak up.

“Manager Kim-” Bang Chan called out.

“You don’t need to sit with me here, Bang Chan.” Manager Kim chuckled as he stared directly in Bang Chan’s eyes. “I’d rather not talk about work outside the office.”

You watched as Bang Chan’s eyebrows furrowed, looking back to you in reluctance. You smiled at him before turning your attention to Manager Kim. It was just one night, right? Plus, there’s no harm in establishing a good impression with your boss.

“I’ll sit with you, Manager Kim.” You smiled, “thanks for offering.”

And so, you took your seat next to Manager Kim at the table. Bang Chan, who was to your left, looked askance at Manager Kim for a brief second before his facial expression did a complete 180. His familiar, boy-ish smile was plastered on his face like it was the most natural thing.

When the menus came, everybody at the table — including you — started to order onslaughts of food and alcohol. After brief moments of casual chatter about topics such as the weather or how good the food was here, everything that was ordered arrived at your table.

You grabbed a can of beer and started sipping on it. You’ve drank before — of course — with your old friends at university, but it’s been at least a year since you last did. Better ease myself in. You thought.

However, your preconceived plans were ruined when a small glass of clear liquor got pushed in front of you.

“Y/n, surely you aren’t going to sip on that can all night.” The ends of Manager Kim’s lips curled up.

“Wasn’t planning to, sir.” You replied while tipping the glass up and into your mouth. The bitter liquid burned your throat as it went down. You took a moment to recollect your surroundings. Seems like your tolerance was higher than you thought.

“Bang Chan, do you not drink? Why not eat something then?” Manager Chen pointed to the food on the table.

“No can do ma’am, I’m on a strict diet. My manager would kill me.” Bang Chan pointed to his glass of water.

“In that case,” Manager Chen filled another glass, “Y/n, have another drink.” She slid the glass down the table in front of you.

You gladly accepted your second drink, downing the alcohol in one go. Your eyes instinctively squeezed together as you felt your throat burn. From the tips of your ears to the ends of your toes, your whole body felt warm and alive.

You lost track of the time. As your conversations got livelier, your head got fuzzier. You stopped counting your drinks after four, especially since so many people were eager to offer the new employee a drink. Although your vision was starting to blur, you could still think straight. I can still think, you thought to yourself, still — what a powerful buzz.

Your thoughts ran rampant in your mind as you stared at the lightbulb across the room. What a pretty light. So bright. Warm.

“Y/n.”

Was the light calling your name?

“Y/n!”

Your eyes focused again and snapped away from the lightbulb. Where was the voice coming from? You slowly turned your head. Bang Chan.

“Hi.” You smiled.

“Hi.” He smiled back. So bright. Warm. “It’s been hours and I haven’t even offered you a drink yet.”

You tried to focus your eyes on his face as he slid the glass over to you. One more drink wouldn’t hurt your buzz, right?

You gladly accepted, slowly moving your hand over to the glass to pick the clear liquid up. It went down in one go just like all the others.

Huh? Was this water?

You struggled to focus your eyes on the person who offered you the drink. “That was yummy.”

“I bet it was,” the talking blur chuckled, “How about another one?”

You nodded, then took the glass he slid towards you. It’s funny how water flows even when in a cup. Water. You needed to pee.

“Hey,” your words dragged out, “where’s uh, where’s the washroom?”

“Follow me. I’ll show you.” Manager Kim stood up and reached his hand out towards you. You didn’t want to take it, but it seemed like nobody was noticing his offer.

Reluctantly, you took his hand and stood up, only to stumble down again. Did your knees not want to listen?

“Whoa there, better hold on.” Manager Kim said.

“No, I can walk. I-I can walk.” You let go of Manager Kim and tried to focus all your brainpower on moving your feet in a straight line. This tactic only worked for a second, however, as your knees gave in and you stumbled down.

“It’s obvious that you can’t.” Manager Kim’s lips turned up. “It’s time for you to go home. I’ll take you back.”

What? No. You didn’t want Manager Kim to take you home, not after all the awkward events of today and the general vibe from him. You tried to express your thoughts, but nothing came out of your mouth.

“Manager Kim, you’ve been drinking!” Bang Chan’s voice came from some part of the room. “It’s not safe to drive, I’ll call a taxi for you.”

“What about Y/n here? I’ll get a taxi for us both.” Manager Kim said.

“I called my manager earlier to pick me up, we can drop her off along the way. It’s not a good idea to put two drunk people in a car. I’m completely sober right now, so let me do all the work.” Bang Chan grinned, patting Manager Kim on his shoulder.

“Is that what you want, Y/n?” Manager Kim glared.

You dizzily nodded.

“Alright. In that case, I can call my own taxi later.” Manager Kim grimaced.

“Stay safe, Manager Kim.” Bang Chan smiled. He turned to you. “My manager’s been waiting outside for a while now, do you want to leave now?”

You nodded. You tried to start walking again, but your damn knees just wouldn’t listen.

“Do you want to hold on to me?” Bang Chan knitted his brows together and held out an arm.

“I,” you slurred, “can walk.” You tried to start your feet again, only to end up stumbling down.

“I know you can,” Bang Chan said as he reached his hands out to stabilize you, “but — ah — I’m really tired after today. Can you hold on to my arm so I won’t fall out of exhaustion?”

You agreed to help him. Bang Chan waved to everybody still at the table before leading the two of you out to a black SUV. He allowed you to stumble your way in the back seats first before sliding in himself. He asked you for your address, which took many tries for you to accurately type it into his phone.

You leaned your head against the window, staring at passing blurred lights as Bang Chan’s manager started driving. Just being away from the loud and bright environment seemed to have cleared your head a little, but the pounding would not stop. You cursed yourself for being so irresponsible on your first day, especially because you were still alone in this new country.

“Hey,” you felt a gentle tap on your shoulder, “want some water?” You looked over to see Bang Chan holding out a plastic bottle with the lid screwed off.

You languidly reached your hand out for the bottle and gulped down as much water as you could in one breath before handing it back to him. The street lights started getting blurrier as you tried to fight exhaustion, the muscles in your eyelids starting to get more and more uncontrollable.

“Y/n.”

“Hmm?”

“Don’t fall asleep yet, we’re almost there. Ten more minutes.”

You couldn’t hear anything after that, however, as you felt your eyes give up on you and your body fall into a deep sleep.

“Y/n… Y/n.” A familiar voice called.

You fluttered your eyes open, your head pounding. Not knowing where you were, you surveyed your surroundings in a panic. It seemed as though you were in the back of a car… Parked outside of your apartment building?

“Hey, you’re finally awake.” Bang Chan’s voice entered your ear. It all came rushing back to you; the restaurant, the drinking, entering the SUV.

“How long have we been parked here?” Your groggy voice sounded inhuman. You had to clear your throat a couple times.

“It’s only been twenty or so minutes. I’m not allowed to leave the car, are you able to get home alone? I can ask my manager to go with you.” Bang Chan scratched the back of his neck.

“I should be fine.” You mumbled, a bit embarrassed to have fallen asleep in the car of a person you just met that day. This wasn’t even his car, it was his manager’s.

“Hey… can I put my number in your phone?” Bang Chan avoided your eyes. “Just so you can tell me when you get home.” He quickly added.

“Okay.” You awkwardly handed him your phone with your contacts already opened. He quickly typed his phone number in before handing it back to you.

“Text me when you get home. Remember to lock your door, okay?”

You thank both him and his manager before hurrying back to your apartment. Your head was still pounding unrelentlessly as you pressed the elevator button for your floor. The events of today were still unprocessed in your brain. You met a potential friend, which was a highlight. However, you also met two higher up managers and an actual idol, only to get hilariously drunk in the presence of. At least it’ll make a good story to tell my mom. You thought.

In no time, you made it in your apartment and locked the door behind you, remembering what Bang Chan told you in the car. You texted the new number in your phone.

Y/n: Hi. It’s y/n. I just entered my apartment.

Not even a minute later, your phone lit up, signaling a new text message.

Bang Chan: great!! remember to lock the doooor hahaha ( ◕ω◕✿ )

You subconsciously grin at your phone. Cute. Throwing your phone haphazardly on your bed, you begrudgingly began your night routine. After washing up and throwing on a random shirt from your closet, you fell on your bed ready to sleep. You were about to close your eyes when your phone lit up again with a ding. It was another text.

Bang Chan: Hey… Just so you know, if you ever feel unsafe around the office just tell me okay? I’ll always try to help you in whatever way I can.

#stray kids #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #stray kids fanfic #skz scenarios #skz imagines #bang chan #bang chan scenarios #bang chan imagines #bang chan fluff #bang chan angst #bang chan smut

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farfromharry · 4 years ago

Note

Hehe hello! Since that esquire interview came out with Tom I have a prompt. Since he mentioned he’s not ready to have kids, how about the reader was there watching him interview and heard everything while she was secretly pregnant and didn’t tell him yet? Starts off angsty since she heard him but ends out fluff;) I LOVE YOU!!!!❤️

summary: tom says something during an interview that worried you, but it all gets resolved in the end

tom holland x reader

w/c 0.6k

a/n - i just had to write this as soon as i saw this, i thought it was such a cute idea 🥺

you laughed along with the rest of the crew as tom told the nicki minaj story. the way he stupidly believed it himself even though there was no way it was real.

“so, that was a big relief for me,” he said, the ghost of a smile on his lips when he locked eyes with you, your laughter making him feel all warm inside. that all came crashing down though with his next sentence.

tom had looked back to the camera, shifting in his seat. “cause i’m not ready to have kids.”

your smile dropped, your heart sinking in your stomach as the plan to tell tom fell apart.

no one knew of course, no one but you and his mum, the person you’d asked to buy you a test when you started getting suspicious.

nikki was excited for you, she’d told you so as soon as the two lines appeared on the stick that would change your life forever.

she had convinced you through your doubts that tom would be so happy, and that he’d been an amazing father; not that you had any doubts about that part.

you were almost three months along when you’d finally built up the courage to tell him, to tell him today that was.

your hand subconsciously drifted to your stomach, rubbing small circles over the top of your clothes. you felt the lump in your throat and knew if you took one more look at tom you’d completely lose your composure.

jumping up from your seat you very politely asked someone where the bathroom was, just to give you an excuse to get out of there.

unfortunately for you, tom’s interview couldn’t last forever, so he did eventually come looking for you.

he found you sitting on the floor in one of the halls of the building, tears slowly sliding down your cheeks.

“y/n?” he asked. your eyes fluttered open, looking over to him with a sad smile. “what’s wrong?”

he crouched down in front of you, his eyes scanning your face and your body nervously, checking for any injuries before concluding you were physically fine.

“you’re going to hate me,” you cried, hands covering your tear stained face. tom was worried more than anything, he hated that you were so suddenly feeling like this.

“what happened?” he asked, in arguably the softest voice you’d ever heard him speak in.

“please don’t be mad.” he shook his head, running his thumb over your knuckles.

he placed a soft kiss on your hand. “could never be mad at you.”

you sniffled, taking deep breaths to try and control your rapid breathing. you looked up at your boyfriend, seeing the obvious worry written on his face.

“tom, i’m pregnant.” he was a little taken back by your bluntness, but once he’d had time to process the words you’d just said to him, he wasn’t much better.

after, who knows how long, of uncomfortable silence you spoke up, asking the question you really didn’t want to ask.

“about what you said in there, is it true?” he didn’t respond. in all honesty he was still in shock, he wasn’t expecting to receive this kind of news, but as he thought about it, the more things started to make sense. the being sick in the mornings, the weird cravings, the increase in mood swings, it all pieced together.

“it was then, b-but that was before,” he said.

you weren’t sure things had ever been this uncomfortable with tom, and you hated it so much. you didn’t know how long you’d been in that hallway, but your hope was slowly deteriorating.

“i thought you’d be happy,” you whispered. tom felt his heart break thinking he’d disappointed you. part of his was happy, but the other, larger, part of his was terrified.

“i am happy,” he promised, slipping his hand down to hold your stomach. he saw a faint twinkle in your eye, the one that you always got when you were truly excited.

“forget what i said in there.” he sent you a reassuring smile. “i’m ready to do this.”

tom holland taglist - @seutarose @lmaotshollandd @photoshopart15 @hopelessly-harry @bvttercupbby @call-me-baby-gir1 @fallinfortom @geminiparkers @siriuslyslyslytherin @musicalkeys @itstaskeen @icyhollands @tpwk-grande @zspideyy @chrisosterfield @givebuckyhisplumsnow @lowkey-holland @hollandcrush @wizkiddx @sannie-san-shine @sonnydoesrandomshit @hopeless-romantic-baby @dummiesshort @itsbieberxholland @lillucyandthejets @piscesparker @mymilliefrommarketing @spideyspeaches @kujokura @l0velyevans @jess-holland23

#tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland imagine #tom holland imagines #tom holland oneshot

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kaistarus · 4 years ago

Text

The Key to Love is Timing

Pairings: Hinata X Reader

Words: 3.5K

Summary: If the first confession fails... Just bottle it up for a few years and hope for the best? Hinata messed up the first time, but he's not one for quitting.

Notes: This has lots of manga spoilies. I just love time-skip Hinata and he deserves more content 🥰

Masterlist // Ko-Fi

Karasuno high school loomed in front of you. The place that served as a sanctuary for so many years, helping you build lasting friendships and memories in classrooms that would soon be filled with new freshmen to take your place. It was bittersweet knowing your locker would soon belong to someone else, but you could only hope it would serve them as well as it had you.

Almost everyone had left the school grounds since it was nearing sundown, but you needed a while longer to say goodbye. You trailed your hand down the granite pillar that held the small canopied entrance. You were never good with goodbyes, and it would be hard to leave your friends behind. You’d made your plans to keep in touch and although you were the realistic type you still held had hope it could work out.

There was only one person you had avoided talking to...

“(Y/N)!”

You inhaled slowly before glancing over your shoulder at the boastful voice coming from across the courtyard. Hinata. You were hoping you’d run into him, whether you’d let yourself admit it or not. You noticed his sleeves were rolled up his forearms and that the schoolbag hung casually over his shoulder contained his uniform jacket-the sleeve hanging out loosely-as he pushed his bike toward you.

“Hey, yourself,” you tightened the grip on your own bag and languidly came to meet him at the front of the entrance. He was slightly out of breath when he reached out, taking large gulps of air to gather himself before speaking.

“I was hoping you would be here. I lost track of time and was worried I missed you.” He gave a crooked grin that made your heart skip.

“Well, I figured it would take you forever to say good-bye to Kageyama.”

He tilted his head in confusion before his face lit up. “You were waiting for me?”

Your eyes widened at your mistake. “No. I mean, I didn’t not want to see you, like, if we bumped into each other that would’ve been cool, but I wasn’t purposely trying to waste time...”

Smooth.

You found yourself unable to meet Hinata’s eyes until you heard a lighthearted laugh. His genuine smile was framed with unruly autumn hair that contrasted the cherry blossoms of spring that were flying through the air. You broke your Hinata induced trance when you realized he had swiped your bag from your grip.

“Um, excuse me?”

Instead of responding he took to placing your bag on the opposite handlebar from his own bag and pushing his bike ahead of you. You blinked, confused, before catching up to the boy.

“Since when do you carry bags?” You raised an eyebrow while gesturing to the bike. “Usually you whine about how it’s abuse I’m making you push your own bike.”

“I don’t know. I just feel like it,” he shrugged and turned away from you which only raised your suspicion that he was up to something. If he tried to steal your bag or pull some last day of school prank on you… you were so not in the mood.

“Wait, where are we going?” You realized you’d just been following the familiar backroad without thought. “Are you walking me home?”

“Yes.”

“Then why aren’t we going to the halfway point? My house is completely out of the way.” You crossed your arms and narrowed your eyes at Hinata’s scrunched up face. “You’re acting really weird. Should I be concerned?”

“You ask a lot of questions.”

“Thanks. I’m thinking about doing it professionally.” You stuck your tongue out at his deadpan glare and ignored the grumbling that followed. You focused on the warmth in your chest as you teased him and not the lurking dread that dweld with every step closer to your house.

“When do you leave for University?” Hinata’s question made your stomach twist.

“April,” you shrugged. “I leave for Tokyo a few weeks before classes start.” The silence that followed was unbearable. “When… do you leave?”

“Two days.”

You nearly gave yourself whiplash with how quickly you turned to him. You had figured he would be leaving quickly, but you always envisioned a month or two at least. Your time had been wasted and you didn’t even realize.

“That’s…”

“Soon.” He finished. You nodded slowly. “I wanted to start training as soon as possible. I need to learn everything I can about beach volleyball so I can be the best player possible.”

“I’m so happy for you, Hinata.”

And you were. Even if the smile on your face felt a bit forced you knew that you truly meant those words. So you ignored the ache in your heart because it came from a selfish part of you that was scared to lose someone you cared too deeply for. Someone who had the courage to chase their passions to new continents. You shoved down the pain and focused on your admiration at his continuous drive for self-discovery and improvement.

There was no time to pity yourself.

“We’ve both got adventures ahead of us,” Hinata said with an ear to ear grin on his face. You could only nod in agreement because Tokyo was nothing like Brazil, but you had your own sense of self-discovery you supposed. Slowly, Hinata’s face dropped into something more weary and his eyes drifted to his feet. “But…”

“But?”

“It’ll be weird not seeing you all the time,” he started, lifting his head to the sky. You followed his gaze, but found nothing of interest beside the cloudless sky slowly fading to peach hues as the sun set. “I mean, you won’t be coming to my games or bullying me at school.”

“I don’t bully you.” You deadpanned.

He waved you off. “You won’t be able to come over and help me teach Natsu volleyball when she complains I’m not a good enough teacher either.”

“Well, not everyone understands your ‘wam’ and ‘zoom’ into a ‘fwump’!” You said while moving your arms into random receives and spikes to match the sounds.

“Nishinoya did,” he narrowed his eyes. “Whatever, the point is you’ll be gone and… I’m going to miss you.” He glanced over quickly. “More than the average person.”

“I’ll miss you too.” You nudged his shoulder. “Lighten up. You’re acting so weird today.”

“I’m not acting weird…”

“You are!” A gust of wind sent cherry blossoms floating toward you from the trees that perched along your path. You held out your hand and let a few settle into your palm before smirking at the boy beside you. “Cherry blossoms, carrying my bag, talking all mushy. If you were anyone else I’d think this was some poor attempt at a love confession.”

Hinata stumbled over his steps before pausing all together and you furrowed your brow at him before realization struck you. His face had blossomed red in a furious blush and his eyes were set on you determinedly in a way that had your heart racing.

Your mouth went dry. “Hinata-”

“I’m not good with words.” He took a shuddering breath and his fists clenched. “Going to Brazil is my dream, but when I think about you not being there I kinda feel like I’m gonna throw up or something. And when I’m not thinking about volleyball I’m usually thinking about when I get to see you next so…” He glanced up at you more confidently and you started to panic. You’d wanted this for so long but… “I don’t know a lot of things, but I know that I love volleyball. So, it would only make sense that I also lo-”

“Stop.” You put your hand up between you both. “You can’t…”

“What are you talking about?” He tilted his head confused. “I’m pretty sure I can. I mean I’ve been debating it for at least a year now so-”

“A year?” Your eyes widen before you shake it off. “Nevermind, I meant not now. Not when you’re about to leave and I’m about to start university and…” You clench the material of your pleated skirt. “It wouldn’t be fair to either of us.”

He furrowed his brow at you and his eyes scanned your face. “How wouldn’t it be fair?”

You took a few shaky breaths to calm yourself and to hold back the unshed tears that burn in the back of your eyes. “I don’t want to be a burden to your training in-”

“You would never be a-”

“But it’d feel that way.”

His tongue stuck out the side of his mouth while he was deep in thought. You always found that a cute quirk, but now you were just desperate to know what possibly was going on in his head. He scratched the back of his head and glanced toward the sky once again, but like before you saw nothing of interest there.

“Okay,” he said, meeting your eyes once more. “Next time then.”

You blinked. “Next… time?”

He gave you a crooked grin. “Yep, it’s not like I’ll be gone forever.”

It seemed like such a silly thing to cry over such a naive promise, like he would actually still have feelings for you when or if he ever decided to come back to Japan. The realistic part of you knew it was a childish fantasy, but let him believe his bold words like you knew only Hinata could. However, the hopeful part of you, the one that leaked tears the moment Hinata’s smiling face was out of view, clung to the idea of his dramatic return and your tragic love story.

But days turned to months, and months turned to years, and you were no longer a child. You had come to terms that the world wasn't made for fairy tale endings.

~*~*~*~

Nearly four years had passed since that day and for the most part you had moved on from it. You take a deep breath before flashing your laminated badge to the security guard that would allow you to enter the massive gymnasium. No matter how many times you come to these venues it still gives you a thrill being around the chaotic environment. The crowd’s chants, scuffling of athletes shoes, coaches encouraging shouts and rushed commands all created a cacophony unmatched by anything you’d ever heard. It was a no brainer that you were addicted to the atmosphere, eventually building yourself a career that allowed you to become a part of it all.

You had plenty of time before the match started to conduct the interview you’d been assigned for that day. You glanced at the scoreboard and a nervous ball hit the pit of your stomach at seeing MSBY Black Jackals vs Schweiden Adlers. You attributed it to the number of people in the audience, rather than the person you’d been lucky enough to be assigned to interview.

Nope. This definitely had nothing to do with Hinata Shoyo.

As you unnecessarily prepared your notes, pen, and recorder for the fifteenth time since you’d arrived at the arena you glanced into the audience. Your eyes landed on Yamaguchi and Yachi waving wildly to you from the stands and you waved back, taking note of the empty seat Yachi was pointing to beside her. Looks like you’d be staying for the match after all.

You stretched your arms above your head and let out a sigh, adjusting your blazer before glancing over your shoulder to where MSBY had now filtered onto the sidelines. Your eyes were immediately drawn to the tufts of orange hair bouncing between the team and you hadn’t even noticed your soft smile until Bokuto was pointing in your direction. Hinata’s head whipped toward you and you felt yourself freeze. If you were back in high school you’d probably describe this moment of staring into his amber eyes as magical in some way, but you just felt embarrassed you couldn’t remain composed while on the job.

He sends you a crooked grin and with a light shove from Atsumu he’s jogging over in your direction. You take a deep breath to center yourself before he’s way too close in your personal bubble.

“Hey.” He smirked at you. It was a familiar look, but he carried it differently. He radiated a newfound confidence that he didn’t have last time you’d seen him. Had he also gotten taller?

“Hi.” You breathed out. Internally cursing yourself for allowing him to have such an effect on you after so many years.

“You, uh, look really nice” He said, amber eyes bright and genuine. They were still so open, like shameless windows to his every emotion. At least that hadn’t changed.

“You look pretty good too.” You said quickly switching your focus to your notes. “How’s being back?”

“Trying to give me a pre-interview?” He smirked, raising a teasing eyebrow. “Don’t think I agreed to that one.”

“Just trying to get a better feel for the client,” you shrugged. “Not required, I suppose.”

“Client?” He pouted.

“This is a paid interaction.”

“Well, let’s keep it PG cause I’m really only good at volleyball for now,” he smirked, raising his eyebrows suggestively. Your face dusted light pink at the suggestion. Yeah, he’d definitely matured over the last four years.

“Here’s the questions I’ll be asking,” you decided to ignore him, along with the cute pout he gave at being ignored, and get straight to business. “I’m going to be recording our conversation for my writing, so don’t worry about stumbling or speed or anything. Just relax and take your time.” Hinata’s eyes were soft when you looked back up to make sure he was paying attention. “What?”

“You’re just so cool.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek to calm your nerves. “It’s not that special. I’m just doing my job.”

“But you’re so good at it. You look badass.”

You shrugged. “I’m going to start the recording now,” you said and the moment he nodded in acknowledgement you pressed record. “Hinata Shoyo. MSBY player 21.” You said, marking the interview for yourself to which he just raised an eyebrow. “So, this is your first interview, right?”

“I had small ones in Brazil, but this is my first one as a professional player in Japan.” He smiled widely. “I made sure you were the first interview I had.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I got a few offers, but they didn’t matter to me if it wasn’t you doing them.”

You blinked at the confession, and found yourself lagging as you looked for the next question. “Um-okay, well, this is your first professional game this season on the starting line-up. What made you choose MSBY?”

“They were the best team at the time having try-outs!” Hinata crossed his arms and nodded. “I have to beat Kageyama after all.”

“It had nothing to do with Bokuto?” You tilted your head. You honestly thought he picked based on friendship.

“Nope, but that was an awesome coincidence!” He leaned closer to you and you looked around awkwardly. “So, what made you choose to be a sports journalist for volleyball? Anyone important in your life?”

Your heart began beating rapidly in your chest and you pushed Hinata’s face back with your notepad. “I’m sorry. I thought I was conducting the interview.”

“Well, as the client I feel I would be most comfortable answering my questions in a back-and-forth style.” He smiled innocently and you deadpanned. “Also, this is my first time, remember? I’m still learning.”

You rolled your eyes before deciding to just humor him. “I knew a kid in high school. Pretty obsessed with volleyball, so I spent a lot of time around it.”

“He sounds pretty awesome.”

“Yeah, it really depends on the day.” You said, making Hinata pout and grumble under his breath. “So, you went to Brazil for your career. How was it different there?”

“Beach volleyball is so different. It's an entirely new game compared to here. Less hands, more feet. There’s the wind and then the sand. It was really hard getting used to.”

“Will you be using some of that technique tonight?” You asked.

“On the court or...?” He smirked slyly with mirth dancing in his eyes. You glared at him and he sighed. “I mean, yeah. You’re staying for the game, right?”

“Um--I...yeah.” You answered awkwardly, looking between Hinata and the notes. He raised an eyebrow at your weird response.

“Are you dating someone?” He asked bluntly.

“What?” Your ears shot to your shoulders at his question, but he just looked at you calmly. “I-What does that-Why?”

“Cause you’re acting weird.”

You furrowed your brow and glared at the courts flooring beneath you. ““How do you think Brazil has impacted your playstyle?”

“You’re avoiding my question,” he said as you continued to avoid the question. He let out a groan before continuing. “You’ll definitely see it through my receives and blocking. I think it’ll really surprise people in my first match back.” Hinata answered smoothly. “So, are you single or…?”

You raised a brow. “Does it matter?”

“Duh,” he scoffed, dragging a hand down his face.

You sighed dramatically. “No, I’m not dating someone currently.”

“Currently!?”

“Oh my god, we’re like 22. Yes, I dated someone for a while just...” You pinched the bridge of your nose. “I heard you were called Ninja Shoyo in Brazil. Do you know where that came from?”

“I don’t know, probably because I’m Japanese.” He waved it off and you furrowed your brow grumpily at his lazy response.

“Hinata you have to at least try to-”

“Do you still love me?”

You choke on your breath and nearly let the recorder slide out of your hands, but Hinata manages to grab it with quick reflexes. He holds it between you, tilting his head with an inquisitive stare.

“I don’t know what you-”

“Because I still love you.” He declared, refusing to break eye-contact as he finally confessed what he’d held on to for so long. “Have for over four years. I kept waiting for the right time, and I’m finally back now for good so… I feel like this is it.”

You stood there in disbelief and tightened your grip around your notebook in an attempt to ground yourself. This was not part of your plan. You had given up on this long ago. “There’s no way you still-”

“It never faded. There were a few times I wished it would,” he looked away almost shamefully. “Only when it hurt a lot, like, when I felt really alone. But even when I tried I just couldn’t. I’d read your articles and everything would come back, ya know?”

You nodded slowly. You remember how it felt when Yachi sent you the article about ‘Ninja Shoyo’. The way your heart had leapt just from seeing his picture. You had stayed up the entire night rereading the poorly translated article and telling yourself you just missed an old friend, nothing more.

You dumping your boyfriend a week later had absolutely nothing to do with it…

“It’s complicated.” You settled on. There were too many factors now.

“Then we can figure it out,” his wide smile nearly sent a thrum through your heart you’d been unknowingly yearning for. “No need to overthink. We have plenty of time.”

Your heart swelled at the words and their implications. “I guess… there is.”

“You said you’re staying for the game?” He asked, which you confirmed with a nod. “Awesome. We can eat and catch up or something.” His eyes widened as he waved his hands between you. “Doesn’t need to be a date. We can just hang out like old times.”

“But what if... I want to call it a date?” You asked nearly above a whisper, twisting the ball of your foot into the ground.

Hinata paused before breaking out into a crooked smile. “Then I’d be fucking thrilled, but no pressure. Okay?”

A whistle sounded and you both turned to see the MSBY’s coach waving to Hinata as the rest of his team took the court for warm-ups. You frowned at the sheet in your hands. “We barely made through the questions…”

“There’s tons of material on here,” Hinata winked as he pressed your recorder into your palm. “You can interrogate me with whatever after the game too.”

You smiled affectionately at him as another warning whistle came from his coach. He apologized to you quickly before running off toward the court. Your cheeks warmed when Bokuto ruffled Hinata’s hair and Atsumu gave a few suggestive looks in your direction while whispering in Hinata’s ear. But when he gave Atsumu a shove, his face a flaming red, you knew you hadn’t been kidding anyone.

The lights dimmed in the arena and you made your way to where Yachi had been seated in the stands. You kept glancing toward the sunshine boy who managed to light up your life the second he returned. Someone with that strong of a magnitude couldn’t help but attract everyone around him.

As he bounced around the court, laughing boastfully with Bokuto, the only thought in your head was that it should have been obvious. Of course you had never stopped loving him.

How could anyone stop loving someone like him.

#haikyū!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#hinata #shoyo hinata #hinata shouyou #hinata shoyo #hinata x reader #love hiimmmmm #this got so long #i don't even know #more self indulgence #manga spoilers #hinata shoyo x reader #hinata shouyo x reader

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chilly-me-softly · 4 years ago

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Every Little Thing’s Gonna Be Alright • Chapter 9

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8

Evelyn sighs locked in her room, the phone in her hands that has already turned off something like three times. Ben has a phone interview and she doesn't want to disturb him by walking around the house so it seemed like the right time. The contact has already been set up, she just doesn't have the courage to press on it a second time to start the call.

She has not heard from her mother for weeks now. Weeks in which she switches between moments of understanding and moments of total anger. Days in which every noise coming from the phone makes her think the time has come, but in the end only makes her feel bad.

She doesn't know what to do, on the one hand she would like to give her time to let her anger or whatever she feels towards her at the moment dissipate. But on the other she feels that the more time she lets pass the harder it will be to recover their relationship.

Evelyn turns the phone over in her hands again before taking a deep breath and unlocking it. A moment later the screen shows the call is on, but she doesn't have time to bring the device to her ear before the call drops.

She frowns and presses on her mother's contact a second time, this time it rings. Evelyn can feel her heart pounding in her chest as she waits for someone on the other end to answer. Then the seconds start ticking away on the screen even though no one is speaking.

"Mum, it's Evelyn" she murmurs with a shaky voice, but still no answer.

"Mum" the signal of the ended call reaches her ears a few seconds later. Her vision blurs as she grits her teeth to prevent herself from crying, her hands shaking slightly. She tries to call back another time, but it goes straight to the voice mail now. The phone falls with a sharp thud as she tries to put it down on the bedside table next to the bed, while tears start to roll down her cheeks and she hides her face in her hands, allowing all her sadness to come out.

This is how Ben finds her when he enters her room, his carefree smile disappearing as he focuses on the view in front of him. He reaches out immediately, holding her in his arms, and Evelyn sobs loudly with her head buried in his chest.

His heart clenches but it was inevitable, he thinks as he silently holds her close. She always tends to downplay things and handle things herself. And no matter how hard he tried to get her to vent during those weeks, ever since she knocked on his door, whatever was inside her never really came out. The trigger had always been there, slowly burning out, and now it had simply come to an end by triggering the bomb.

"You need to calm down though now" Ben leaves a kiss in her hair before bringing a hand to her stomach and stroking it gently. He can clearly feel under his palm the strong kicks the little one is throwing, they must hurt pretty bad.

"Lyn, breathe. Follow me" he lifts her face slightly to make her look into his eyes and starts breathing as slowly and rhythmically as he can, never breaking eye contact and trying not to let on how much the situation is freaking him out.

"It hurts" she croaks, a flurry of emotions inside her. Her head is heavy with crying, spinning at times; an overwhelming sensation in her chest making her feel like she can't breathe; but what worries her the most is her baby. She wants to calm down for her, but she cannot. She doesn't know how.

"Ben" Evelyn says his name frightened, exhausted, a sort of cry for help. And he doesn't know how to help her concretely, the only thing he can do is to help her get up, put her in the car and run to the hospital.

His hands tremble slightly as he sits there on one of the chairs in the waiting room, waiting for someone to come up and give him some news. No one pays any attention to him, all with their own problems on their minds. He didn't take anything except his house keys before leaving so he's on his own. Even if he had memorised a few phone numbers, he doubts he would have been able to remember them under the circumstances. And it's the longest thirty minutes of his life from their arrival at the emergency room to when someone finally brings him to her.

Relief floods through his entire body as soon as he enters the room and sees her awake, alert, and most importantly her belly is still there.

"Oh Lyn" he holds her as tightly as he can, breathing in her scent and enjoying the feeling of her arms around him.

"I'm sorry"

"Hey no, don't say that. What matters is that you're okay. Both of you" he takes her face in his hands reassuring her, leaving a kiss on her forehead when she nods confirming that they're okay.

The doctor gives her the green light to go home, but reminds her to try to stay as far away from stress as possible. At this point in the pregnancy it's necessary to be more careful than usual.

In the car they don't talk, Ben turns to her every now and then as if to make sure she's still there. And she has her eyes closed, her head resting against the window, lost in her mind as always.

"Hey where have you guys been?" Deb asks curiously to the two of them as soon as they set foot in the house, innocently believing Ben has taken his sister for a ride or something.

"Just a little trip to the ER, nothing to worry about though" she reassures her, Ben's eyes could kill her for how badly he's watching her. Deb's eyes go wide, clearly not expecting such a response, getting no further explanation as Evelyn decides to retreat to her room, marked by the last few hours and just wanting to be alone and try to get some rest, while Ben walks over to a stool and lets himself down on it.

"Are you okay?" the girl walks over to her boyfriend, positioning herself between his legs. His hands immediately go around her waist.

"Yeah, just a scary moment. So much stress and nothing more lately" she pulls him close to her at that point, absentmindedly leaving a kiss on his shoulder as he hides his head in her neck. And he feels those little salty drops coming silently as she simply tightens her grip around him. The look on his sister's face, the panic, the waiting, the worry, the sense of worthlessness at her call for help, the relief at knowing it was nothing serious. Everything still spinning in his head.

"Hey, it's okay. It's okay"

"Sorry, I'm just... blowing off some steam I guess"

"No need to apologize to me knucklehead" she wipes his cheeks as he chuckles, closing his eyes then leaning into her hand enjoying her touch and staying that way for a few seconds.

"I was really scared something might happen to both of them. God you should have seen her face"

"I'm so sorry. What happened?"

Ben shrugged, "I found her crying in her room, I was going to wait until she calmed down to ask her then... it all happened so fast"

"That's okay, we can deal with it tomorrow. Come on, let's go lie down for a bit too" Deb stood up on her toes leaving a kiss on his lips before intertwining one of their hands and leading him towards the bedroom.

"Wait" he stops her in front of Evelyn's closed bedroom door. He opens it slowly without making a noise and approaches slowly seeing the girl lying on the bed on her side. She has her eyes closed but her phone still in her hands so he carefully takes it out of her hand to place it on the bedside table, but when he picks it up he almost subconsciously remembers the noise he heard before opening the door that afternoon.

He knows it's not right, if someone dug through his phone like that he'd be furious even though he has nothing to be worry about on it. A matter of principle. But there's no password or any kind of screen lock, it's too easy to take a quick look, and he doesn't think twice. He presses a button and a row of pages she's used recently come up next to each other. There's Instagram, Twitter, Google, WhatsApp, a few games and the phone record.

With the game out of the way, the phone record is the first on the list so he starts with that. Anger begins to build inside him as he starts to put the pieces together. Hurriedly he puts the phone down on the bedside table and walks out of the room, Deb looking at him confused.

"Ben? What's going on?" she asks, following the boy who has regained possession of his abandoned phone on the kitchen table and ignoring all the notifications that have come in the last few hours, he searches for the number that triggered all that.

----

Tag: @alexajanecollins @emwritesfootball

Chapter 10

#every little thing's gonna be alright #my writing #original #football imagine #football imagines #jack grealish #jack grealish imagine #jack grealish imagines #ben chilwell #ben chilwell imagine #ben chilwell imagines

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tothestarsandbackmoved · 4 years ago

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Rant about interstellar

i have before but ill do it again!

interstellar touches me for many many reasons.

first off, the entire premise and setting and the world building in it. the dust storms, the failing crops. the protagonist does say at one point- "humanity was born on earth. they were never meant to stay here" and that just,,, hits me you know? presently we've seen the emergence of no human exploration besides the probes and the ISS. there are plans but the same curiosity just seems dead. interstellar stretches that and shows us what would happen when human curiosity and the desire to explore would die. we'd kill everyone on the planet and soon starve ourselves. the blights- the illnesses- the dead medicare- that's a very bleak future, but a very real one. the movie does both its part about scaring the viewer about it- as well as giving us hope about wormholes and quantum data and singularities and how we'd save ourselves. you can see that the old generation is talking about their days and how better or worse it would be. in the end, on the cooper satellites, you see the interviews being played- and it really breaks me. that was a generation that thought it was the end. the end of human life. the final descent and that was it. and then they see the five dimensions and getting lifted and their lives are essentially turned around. this isn't just the older people though. we see that the gen z then, like cooper's son have also mostly been brought up to *live*. we see that he tries to get into school and actually get into uni and find a job in one of the remaining sectors of the world which still offer something other than farm corn- raise family. You see that the teachers also say this? they teach them to fight blights and sustain crops because they’re losing more and more to disease each year. Humanity’s slowly being packed up and demolished and they aren’t seeing it coming. at all.

then there’s the quote which is recurring throughout the movie:

“do not go gentle into the good night”

the professor says this all the time. as they’re leaving- his last few dying words- as they’re preparing. and you know what? i’ll say it. this is where the next important theme comes in. Desperation. When he initially sends them out- he hasn’t solved gravity yet, and he knows he never will. Not without the quantum data from a black hole- something again, he can never get. Which is why he implies that there’s a Plan B and cooper can see murphy again (this is also very important- scroll down for this). He breaks all their trust- and he knows he’ll die before seeing the end of the mission- and you can’t die with guilt, not really. He knows that he can’t be held accountable because he’s dead. He’s well aware that his plan is a hail mary- and it wouldn’t have worked anyways. He’s counting on Plan B, and that’s all there is to it. He uses the quote as a reminder to himself- because he’s torn too. He isn’t inherently evil, at all. He’s the precarious thread the entire mission dangles by- but he’s willing to risk that too. He’ll be long, long dead before humanity dies- or moves- and this is his last try.

Now for the second part of this quote. As I talked about before- the quote feels more like a reminder to himself- and not actually something that inspires hope in the crewmates. But ironically, it ends up becoming what guides murph. As the professor is dying, she tells him “you’ve been doing this with both your arms tied behind your back”- that’s actually when she finds out about his whole plan. This is the failure of the professor- but at the same time, it becomes the moment he passes the torch to murph. The professor died, knowingly sending his own daughter into the reaches of space. He prioritized his need to save humanity over the love for his own daughter. But, murph isn’t like that. When she finds out about this, she remembers the promise her dad made to her.

“I’ll be back when you’re the age I am now”

and now, she knows he’s lied. But he hasn’t done it on purpose. and she understands that. She makes it HER goal that they don’t go gentle into the good night. She knows that this is probably futile, but she’s going to try. and she’s not going to try thinking that she’ll probably fail- like the professor did (in resignation for plan B)- she’s going to try to bring cooper back.

Third, coming back to desperation. A bold, bold act of desperation is what dr mann did. (I have some qualms about the actor playing estranged astronauts- anyways). Him sending out that sensor- knowing that it will bring humans back to him, while simultaneously jeopardizing the entire mission, and possibly the fate of humanity. He knows what he has done- but he has gone insane alone- and he’d betray his entire cause to see a human face again. This movie really says something about what humans are willing to do. On one hand, you have a woman who singlehandedly saves them all- for human love, and on the other, a man who is willing to commit genocide (that’s what i think it is, dont ask) to see someone else. He messes up everything, deliberately, and goes from “the greatest and bravest man to walk the earth” to a “cold and desperate villain”. This theme has a lot to do with what is happening right now too. Forgive the activism, but we do have people who knowingly exploit and burn and ravage the earth, for their own good- and they’re insane to the point that they genuinely can’t see right from wrong. Sure, you could argue that he was motivated by the need to preserve your own life. But if you give his cause *any* context, you see how wrong he is. This is flailing human desperation, pure and simple.

Now, approaching the themes that actually make it as good as it is. Dr Brand is easily my favourite character in the movie. We get to see her as a brilliant scientist initially, and her arc- is perfect, honestly. For example, take the wormhole handshake- as their going through interdimensional space- where time isn’t linear and your brain gets fried if you try to comprehend it- she recognizes a *being* in that space. If you recall that scene, she reaches out, and meets *them*- someone she knows is otherworldly and entirely above humans (we later learn it is Cooper in the matrix- and i have things to say about that too) and makes contact. She suggests, as both a human- and a scientist- that it may be love that transcends dimensions. She makes first contact with beings that may be their salvation- or destruction- and i think that is definitely the peak of human existence.

She argues that love may be what connected the crew to higher dimensions, and I'll dare to say that she’s right. Love is what made Cooper try to contact murph. Love is what made them dare to save humans. Love was what got her there. She tells them to go to Edmund's planet- not just because she loves him, but because she also makes relevant points AND her gut. It might be stretching it to say that was why she was right- but it is worth introspection. Dr Brand represents the best of humanity and she does carry it, doesn’t she? She settles on the planet for ‘the long nap’ in the end. She tries to save everyone- like on the mountain planet- and she loves. She hopes and she trusts and is unwaveringly honest and courageous. This could become a Dr Brand stan blog for all I care.

Moving on

We have the ‘them’. These are the mysterious threads that tie all parts of the movie together. A black hole to a little girl’s bookshelf. Worlds galaxies apart. A very important thing to note here is that the characters recognize that this is humanity, just very, very far out. And most importantly, wise. This is a civilization who has surpassed the ordinary dimensions, and *mortal* time. They could’ve easily saved all of humanity and given them the planet they were looking for. But their entire ineffable plan, and only putting things where they were needed- was what made them greater than just someone who helps others. Only being able to get binary signals through an intergalactic wormhole, building bookshelves that become a huge metaphor for humanity trying to claw at knowledge- and actually slowly pushing the books forward. The ‘them’ weren’t ordinary humans at all. They definitely hinted and gave me a brief, fickle glance beyond what humans could be- raw possibilities.

Then, we have cooper. This makes it hard to write for him- and do his character justice- but I will try. His character, essentially, is brought down to selflessness, love, a brutal, brutal sense of humour- and the courage- the heavy, heavy courage to sacrifice himself. He’s also the polar opposite of what Dr mann stands for.

His first important point- in my opinion- is when the movie is starting. I didn’t walk in expecting this from him, not really. You see a dying earth- and this man is (alone in his fight, NASA doesn’t count yet) fighting the system alone. He fights for his son, tries for his father in law, and then the most important relationship- his daughter. He’s seeing an earth where not even *children* are curious, or willing, or interested in anything greater. He sees this in his daughter, though. Hence, the bookshelf- the gravity, and the plain curiosity.

I’ll dare to say that at this point, humanity’s a dying, dying flame. And what he sees in his daughter, what we see in his daughter, is a rebirth of potential. She has the human spark, so to speak. He sees that, and he makes promises, and is willing to bring the world to its knees to protect her. And he knows he might not be there when Murph burns strong, and bright, and becomes the saviour of humanity- but he hopes. An important element is the promise, which I mentioned earlier, but it defines their relationship. The promise that he’ll be back when they’re the same age. They both know that it’s not true. They can see the lie, but that promise also empowers them to do what they did when their paths diverge.

Cooper goes to Mann's planet with the vague hope that he’ll be back in time. Murph does most of what she does because she thinks that it’ll bring her father back. Even towards the end, when Cooper willingly jumps into gargantua, a supermassive black hole- which is the literal heart of darkness, he does it in the attempt to save his daughter, and hopes she can get the quantum data at the cost of his life.

About Murph, we mostly see her through the eyes of Cooper in the beginning. A curious and lovable and stubborn tween who just wants to grow up with her dad and do their science experiments. Her perseverance is phenomenal- she loses her dad despite her warnings and asking- and realizes that her loss is something undefinable, but there. In a way, she grows to understand both her responsibility and her part to play, and why her father did what he did. The ‘ghost’ is another plot device- a mysterious figure who messes with the gravity and knocks her books down. And she sees a message there. She tells him about ‘don’t go’ and i can’t begin to describe how beautifully poetic and heartbreaking it is that they realize the significance of that at the same time, and how it ties together. It is hard for me to fathom that scene really- cooper is in an interdimensional matrix, inside a supermassive black hole, and he tries to tell his daughter two things. (a) trying to stop himself from going out and on the mission, which he knows is deemed to fail and (b) sending the quantum data, because that is what mattered in the end, anyways. The ghost comes full circle- and also says what he had to say, when it was most important. And for those who’ve seen the movie, i just really have to put this quote out there:

‘It was you. It was always you. You were my ghost, dad’

And in that, the movie completes itself. It talks about unfailing love, the peak and fall of humanity, and the potential of curiosity.

In this essay I will...

#nasa #interstellar #christopher nolan #did i spend an hour writing this and loved every second of it? yes #nanowrimo #i think it does count as an entry its over 2000 words #thanks for the ask #tw rant #mango pickle

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themovieblogonline · 2 months ago

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Berlin Review: A Slow-Burn Spy Thriller That Keeps You Guessing

When it comes to spy thrillers, the new film on ZEE5 Global, Berlin, offers a unique take. The movie, directed by Atul Sabharwal, is set in the politically charged atmosphere of 1990s New Delhi. It brings together Aparshakti Khurana, playing Pushkin Verma, a sign language interpreter, and Ishwak Singh, portraying Ashok Kumar, a deaf suspect accused of espionage. With a plot that focuses heavily on interrogation, the film cleverly unravels through layers of suspense, drawing viewers into a world where silence speaks louder than words. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PxOtO3rN6h0&t=8s The Plot: An Unlikely Hero Khurana’s character, Pushkin, isn’t your typical action star. He’s a sign language expert caught in a tangled web of deception and political gamesmanship. Brought in to interpret for Ashok, he quickly finds himself navigating a much more complex situation than he anticipated. Ashok is suspected of being a spy, but this isn’t a flashy James Bond-style film. The tension builds slowly, mostly taking place within a single interrogation room, with just a few diversions into the outside world. Despite the film's quiet, slow-burn nature, it does an excellent job of keeping you on edge. Berlin is more cerebral than most spy thrillers, focusing on the subtlety of communication and the vulnerability of those caught in the middle. The deliberate pacing mirrors the suspenseful build-up, where every gesture and word takes on a greater significance. The Performances: Standout Roles Aparshakti Khurana shines in a role that is worlds apart from his usual comedic characters. As Pushkin, he adds an element of tension and subtlety, reflecting the anxiety of someone out of their depth but forced to adapt. Meanwhile, Ishwak Singh’s portrayal of Ashok adds layers to the film, especially with his ability to communicate despite being deaf, making for an intriguing dynamic between the two characters. The performances are bolstered by a supporting cast that includes heavy hitters like Rahul Bose and Kabir Bedi, bringing gravitas to the otherwise quiet, minimalist plot. Khurana, in particular, steps outside his comfort zone, as noted in interviews. The role required him to convey a mix of vulnerability and newfound courage as Pushkin slowly realizes just how deep the deception runs. Strengths and Weaknesses: The Pace Could Use a Kick While the movie succeeds in creating a tense atmosphere, the slow pace might not appeal to everyone. If you're hoping for fast-paced action, Berlin may leave you wanting more. Sure, there are moments of intrigue—especially when Pushkin gets caught up in the espionage, or when Ashok’s past starts to unravel—but the film sometimes gets bogged down in dialogue-heavy scenes. There are even moments when the mystery feels a bit too drawn out, especially as new characters and plotlines are introduced. Still, the film’s strong performances and subtle storytelling manage to hold your attention, even when the action lags. The soundtrack, dominated by soft piano melodies, works perfectly to set the mood, enhancing the espionage vibes without ever overwhelming the scenes. The Espionage Element: Deaf, But Far From Blind One of the most interesting aspects of Berlin is how it uses Ashok’s deafness as an advantage. He’s not just an observer, but someone who can pick up on details that others miss. This adds an extra layer of suspense, as viewers start to question what Ashok has seen and heard—or, more accurately, what he has perceived. Even though he's unable to hear, his sharp observational skills make him a formidable spy. The café setting in Berlin, used as a meeting point for various government agencies, adds a unique twist to the spy genre. The idea that deaf people frequent the café to prevent eavesdropping is an interesting plot device, and it serves as a reminder that espionage isn’t always about guns and car chases. Sometimes, it's about who you can trust—or, more often, who you can't. Final Verdict: A Spy Thriller for the Patient Viewer Berlin may not be everyone’s cup of tea. It lacks the action-packed sequences of Hollywood blockbusters and instead opts for a more intellectual, character-driven narrative. But for those who appreciate a slow-burn thriller filled with suspense, it’s a rewarding watch. Aparshakti Khurana and Ishwak Singh deliver standout performances, and the film’s plot—while a bit meandering at times—provides enough intrigue to keep you hooked. This isn’t your average spy flick. Instead, Berlin asks viewers to pay attention to the quiet moments, where the real story unfolds. It’s a fresh take on the genre, and while it could use a bit more speed at times, the end result is worth the wait. Read the full article

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justasparkwritings · 4 years ago

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Illicit Affairs: Beautiful Rooms Pt. 4

Previous: Beautiful Rooms Pt. 3

Pairings: Namjoon & Reader (Barely), Jungkook & Reader (diff reader)

Genre: Angst, Slice of Life

Ratings: PG15

Word Count: 2.3K

Warnings: Therapy and Swearing, Discussion of past Trauma

Summary: Under the guidance of Dr. Aarons, OT7 spends a few days rebuilding their slowly cracking bond.

Listen: illicit affairs by Taylor Swift

Shout out to @the-rambling-maiden for reminding me about JK’s fear of sleeping alone and for always reading & commenting on everything!!!

Penultimate Chapter

Setting up the small conference room, Dr. Aarons looks around and wonders if this is a mistake. Not the seven men, well, yes the seven men, but the space. More corporate than cozy, it’s lack of plush furniture and soft textiles is evident. The snacks on the table only adding to the sense that this space was never meant for actual group therapy, because it isn’t, but it offers the least access points, less visibility than any other room in the complex, and has its own bathroom. Perfect for secrecy. Perfect for hiding Bangtan.

She places name cards at various points around the table, her careful consideration for personality types and friendship bonds allowing her to place them strategically.

Jimin, Namjoon, Hoseok, Jungkook, Seokjin, Taehyung, Yoongi.

She had worked it over many times, moving and shifting, but ultimately decided to place

Jungkook in the center, the person to his left and right someone who gives him great comfort and security, similarly for Namjoon. Though Jungkook’s mental safety was more important in the set up than Joon’s.

The raucous laughter of seven men alerts her to their arrival, and stepping back from the door, she’s greeted by Jungkook’s enlarged orbs, smiling brightly at her.

“Good morning,” He says, bowing.

“Good morning Jungkook,” She replies. “Welcome, gentleman,”

The men shuffle through, taking stock of the room before finding their seats.

“Thank you all for being here, it takes a lot of courage and respect for one another to want to go through this process together. We don’t have a lot of time, so let’s dive in. Do you have any questions for me before we start?” Dr. Aarons greets them.

“Has this been, successful?” Yoongi asks.

“Can you be more specific?”

“Working with Namjoon and Jungkook, has it been productive?” Yoongi clarifies.

“Namjoon, Jungkook,” She says, turning the question back to them.

“It’s been really great, for me personally and I think for all of us,” Jungkook answers. “I’ve learned a lot, and unlearned a lot too,”

“Will things be different, when we’re back in Seoul?” Taehyung inquires.

“Different how?” Dr. Aarons questions.

“Will we still be, Bangtan?”

“That’s up for the seven of you to decide. You’ve had a major moment, a huge shift in your group, dynamics haven’t changed, but perhaps your purpose or your interactions with each other have. Why don’t we get to work, and we’ll see where we’re at?” Dr. Aarons opens her notebook, a new marble covered, hard bound book. She’s filled the front half with notes and observations, and as the week with the men progresses, she’ll continue to add more.

A little after lunch on their second day, Dr. Aarons stares at the men, taking in their posture, the way their eyes glance sideways, the jokes lingering on their lips, the words they are waiting to say remaining tight within them.

“I wanted to ask you all if you have a memory of your first days together, specifically your thoughts and impressions of Jungkook? Namjoon, can you share what you told me?”

“Sure. I told Dr. Aarons and Jungkook my first impressions of JK. How innocent he was, how unsure and unsteady, that he took pieces of our personalities to build his before finally breaking the mold. I remember how curious he was, how willing to learn, how pliable, but also very scared. It took a lot for him to stay,” Namjoon does his cursory glance at all six men while he speaks, years of interviews making this gesture as easy as walking a press line.

Dr. Aarons writes down the members reactions before speaking. “Thank you, Namjoon. Who would like to start?”

“Do you remember when Jungkook first moved to the dorms?” Yoongi starts, eyes moving from Dr. Aarons to the other men.

“What specifically?” Hoseok asks.

“He couldn’t sleep alone, you remember?” Yoongi replies.

“We shouldn’t have given him the single room,” Seokjin says.

“He earned it, fair and square,” Namjoon says.

“He was so scared that first year, of the dark, of being alone, of everything,” Yoongi reminds them.

“I wasn’t that scared!” Jungkook counters softly, his hyungs glancing at him.

“Oh, don’t lie,” Seokjin chuckles.

“You remember our compromise?” Namjoon asks.

The seven nod but it’s Taehyung who speaks first. “We promised to leave our doors open a crack, so that when he was scared or couldn’t sleep, he could crawl into bed with us.”

“He abused that privilege,” Yoongi laughs.

“It was almost every night, Dr. A,” Namjoon says. “He almost had a rotation,”

“He had the biggest room, a single to himself, but he spent months sleeping in our beds,” Hoseok reminisces on those nights, nights when he’d be nearly asleep only to have a quiet Jungkook crawling under his blanket to join him.

“He eventually got over it,” Seokjin reminds them.

“He was so little, so small,” Yoongi says. “He wasn’t taller than me, yet.”

“Physically and emotionally,” Hoseok responds. “He was just a kid, barely a teenager.”

“It was so hard, watching him leave his family for us. We weren’t anything yet, and here he was, believing we would become something,” Yoongi speaks.

“He’s only two years younger, but he just reminded me of my little brother,” Taehyung says. “So delicate,”

“Most of you are younger siblings, correct?” Dr. Aarons asks.

Four of the men nod.

“It makes sense why you all felt responsible for Jungkook, even as younger siblings yourself, six of you stepped into the role of an older sibling, despite never having been the oldest before,” Dr. Aarons analyzes. “He became your responsibility, in a very earnest way.”

“I didn’t feel responsible for him, not as much as Seokjin-hyung and Yoongi-Hyung and Namjoon-hyung felt,” Jimin says.

“Me either,” Taehyung agrees.

“Same,” Hoseok adds. “Maybe that’s why I’m his favorite.”

A chorus of Oh’s and no ways and don’ts leave the men’s lips, laughter in their voices as Hoseok beams at Jungkook.

“Well, the three of you needed more guidance,” Namjoon says glancing at Hoseok, Jimin and Taehyung who happen to be sitting together. “You were the greenest out of all of us.”

“Remember when you got asked what your three chances at life were?” Jimin turns to look at Namjoon. “Remember what you said?”

“Jungkook was the second,” Namjoon answers.

“Was that true?” Taehyung inquires.

“Yes,”

“But then you abused him and lied to him, and the rest of us for years,” Jimin’s sentence reads like a statement, but the lilt in his voice, the upturn of notes in the final syllables alerts everyone that it is in fact a question.

“Remember that one performance, it wasn’t Fire, but Jungkook had an exam the next day?” Taehyung asks. “He was so mad we were performing that night, he looked pissed.”

“He was just, we had good times, you know?” Seokjin starts. “Taking him to school, managing his schoolwork,”

“That’s how you two became so close?” Dr. Aarons asks him.

Seokjin nods. “Mm, we all had our moments with each other, but for us, that was it,”

“When you heard what had been going on, how did you feel?” Dr. Aarons looks to the men, all in a row according to age. She notices the shifts in everyone’s demeanor, the anger coating their eyes, the jaws locking, the cracking of knuckles. She knew this would come, war.

“Can I go first?” Jimin asks.

“Of course,” She responds.

“I was, disgusted, and confused, and hurt. Jungkook and I have gone through a lot of similar things, with our bodies and our attitudes towards them. We’ve been through a lot, and I felt so betrayed and scared that maybe what I had gone through was more calculated than I thought it was.” Jimin’s voice is strong, determined. He’s unafraid.

“I wondered that too,” Taehyung adds. “I was scared, we talked a lot, after the fight, about what had been going on and if it had been happening to us, too.”

“I just, I still can’t believe it,” Hoseok tells the room.

“You still can’t?” Dr. Aarons asks him.

“No, it’s all so, scary? So manipulative and planned. I just get so upset when I think about it.”

“I don’t understand how you did it,” Yoongi doesn’t look at Namjoon, he doesn’t look at anyone, dark eyes pointed directly at the floor.

“Me either, or why? I know why, you told us, but still,” Seokjin says.

“While these traumas were occurring, five of you were comforting Jungkook, consoling him, supporting him, correct?”

“Yes,” Jimin answers.

“Did you have any sense that all the things happening were just, too much?”

“What do you mean?” Hoseok questions.

“Did we wonder if something bigger was at play? Like all of it was planned,” Yoongi explains.

“No,” they respond.

“How do you feel now? Months have passed, you’ve gone through some therapy, individually, how do you feel now?” Dr. Aarons is curious, had her recommendations worked?

“I still don’t know why,” Yoongi starts, “I don’t understand what was so important that Namjoon allowed this to happen to Jungkook. I don’t get why Bang and Sejin and everyone else thought abuse was the way to go, we were all suffering just fine without them.”

“Suffering how?”

“Do you want us to go down the line?” Yoongi’s sarcasm is met with a terse glare from Dr. Aarons, followed by a nod.

“Seokjin, you start,” She says.

“I was extreme dieting, eating only plain chicken breast to slim down, dancing long hours, trying to get in shape,”

“How long did that continue?”

“A while… then it stopped, and started again, and stopped again,” Seokjin says.

“Yoongi?”

“I hurt my shoulder in a car wreck and still haven’t gotten it fixed.”

Dr. Aarons already knows the answer. “How long have you been in pain?”

“A few years,”

“Do you have plans to get it fixed?”

“Yeah, I’m nearing the point where I either fix it and recover or just slowly lose mobility,” The fear in his voice is almost undetected, but Hoseok hears it and pats him gently on the back.

“Mm, Hoseok?”

“I just, don’t stop,” Hoseok’s eyes leave Yoongi, meeting Dr. Aarons.

“Meaning?”

“I keep going, I push myself, I don’t slow down.”

“Is it a compulsion?” She writes, Hoseok’s therapist, Dr. Lee, had mentioned this in their debrief a few days ago. It was a compulsion, OCD mixed with anxiety.

“Maybe,”

“Jimin?”

“I had an eating disorder,” Jimin reveals.

“Taehyung?”

“I had insomnia, still do sometimes,” Taehyung shrugs.

“During these years, from training until now, the seven of you have endured psychological and physical trauma. You nearly disbanded in 2018, and just barely signed a new contract which Namjoon got amended. Why are you still together?” Dr. Aarons sips her now cold coffee, gently setting back on the marble coaster.

The men look at each other, unsure of an answer.

“No one knows me the way they do. Without them, I’m lost.” Jimin speaks first.

“They mean the world to me,” Taehyung answers. “They are the most precious, most important people,”

“Have you ever wondered why Bang let you all suffer so long?”

“He tried to help us,” Hoseok says.

“But, enough?” Dr. Aarons wonders. “You have collective trauma, it makes sense to me why you protected Jungkook, and why you’ve banded together. No one understands what you’ve been through, except the seven of you.”

“Doesn’t that make the betrayal that much worse?” Jimin ponders.

“We know each other by our breath or our smell, and here’s Namjoon, ruining Jungkook right in front of us.”

“Have you ever worried how much of yourself worth is tied to your success?” Dr. Aarons asks. “Not to dismiss the betrayal, but the root of this conundrum is success, it’s wealth, it’s fame and recognition. You’re viewing yourself through your accomplishments, no matter how you feel about yourself, how much you love yourself, you are so focused on being loved by the world that you will ruin each other to get there.”

“Some of that comes with youth, though,” Seokjin says.

“I feel like we’ve made progress, personal growth,” Yoongi agrees.

“We’ve matured, but we still want the praise,” Jimin adds. “We still want a Grammy someday; we still want to chart and perform in the biggest venues. We want a lot.”

“If you don’t achieve those things, does your work still hold value?”

“If ARMY thinks it matters, then it matters,” Taehyung answers.

“What if ARMY doesn’t think it matters?” Dr. Aarons presses.

“Then what was all the suffering for?” Jungkook whispers.

“I don’t know,” Jimin says.

Yoongi sighs, “It’s been worth it, though,”

“I agree,” Seokjin nods.

“Was Jungkook?” Dr. Aarons knows the outcome of this question, she knows the impact of the words she’s about to speak. Sipping her coffee, she inhales slowly. “Was it worth Namjoon being bribed and manipulated? Was it worth Jungkook being starved, worked to exhaustion, conditioned to think he’s weak or inferior? The disordered eating each of you endures to this day, the diets, the excessive exercise, the self-doubt, has it been worth that? The racism, xenophobia, the hiding of sexualities and being forbidden to express love towards another, your creative license being stripped from you album after album, has it been worth that too? Or is the fame, the prestige, the accolades, worth all the trauma you have inflicted upon each other, and yourselves. Has all of that been worth it?”

The seven men sit silently, their breaths the only sound, uneven as tears fall, shoulders shake, hands cover mouths to mute the sound. Dr. Aarons stares at each of them, crumbling one by one, because in this room, in this safe space, they’re finally able to understand the gravity of the horrors they’ve endured. They’re able to recognize that what has happened is not acceptable, it’s not okay. Though they don’t understand Namjoon or forgive him for his place in the abuse of Jungkook, they can rectify that it wasn’t of his volition. Forgiveness is earned, and in this beautiful room, sun soaked and welcoming, Bangtan is beginning to heal.

Next: Stolen Stares

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fortheloveoffanfic · 5 years ago

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Put Me In a Movie

Keanu Reeves x Reader. Requested (A/n- I know huge age gaps aren’t for everyone, but alas, it is the bases of this series. Warnings will be included on a chapter by chapter basis. This is sort of a half chapter to set the tone between the two, next week, things are bumped up a few notches. For more info, you can heck out the series summary here)

Prologue

“Stop doing that,” Walter warned as he sank down next to her on the plush grey sofa in the private waiting room. They were in Los Angeles, at a popular studio; Y/n had recently gotten a part in an action film, where she’d play a nurse who had found a rogue C.I.A operative bleeding out near her apartment. It was seemingly your run of the mill; young girl getting caught up with an older guy, damsel in distress, high action movie, but her agent; Walter thought it would be a good way to transition onto the big screen as the television show that she starred in came to a close after six seasons.

Y/n’s head snapped up, turning to face him, her eyes wide, “Doing what? I’m not doing anything!” She frowned, though she knew exactly what he was talking about; Y/n hand been wringing her fingers since they were in the car, on the way to the studio. Walter had been her manager since she started her career at sixteen and knew her almost as well as her own father; he could tell when she was doing one of her nervous ticks, even the subtle ones.

The graying man chuckled, offering her one of the disposable cups filled with coffee, which might not have been the best choice of beverage when one was already vibrating with nervous anticipation, “Here, drink this. And try not to spill anything on that top; Grace,” her stylist, “Will kill us both if you do.”

“I won’t,” Y/n grumbled, “I’m not a kid, you know,” she rolled her eyes, bringing the scalding hot latte to her lips.

“Relax,” Walter went on, “I know,” he sighed, drinking from his own coffee before he continued, “I guess I’m nervous too, my wife says that I micro-manage when I’m nervous.”

At that, Y/n chuckled and slowly, the knot in her stomach starting to loosen, “She’s right. The last time we were here you kept asking me if I was sure I wasn’t cold.”

“It was raining and the A.C was on,” he defended, “What the hell is taking them so long?” Walter grumbled lowly after a couple minutes.

“We’re early,” Y/n reminded, “There’s still,” she glanced at her phone in her lap, “Fifteen minutes.”

Sighing again, Walter didn’t respond, opting to deal with a few emails on his own phone; getting back to other clients and organizing her appearances for the week.

Keanu stood, near his car, smoking a cigarette while browsing through the excerpt of the script that they were using that morning. He had already read it through a couple times earlier that week but wanted to be sure that he had everything right. The scene was supposed to be the one where his character would meet his co-star’s; Y/n Y/l/n.

Prior to that day, Keanu had heard of the young girl and had seen her on television interviews in passing. Up until then, she had starred in drama series called Behind Lipstick which chronicled the life of a young model combating struggles with addiction, her mental health issues and the pressure of fame in the superficial world she lived in. Keanu himself had never watched the series but his sisters loved it and Y/n had even won a few Emmy's and Golden Globes for her performance.

The film was supposed to be her introduction to the ‘movie’ side of things and while Keanu was excited and honored to star alongside her what was to be a milestone in her career, finding out that she was also supposed to be his love interest in the movie was still something that he was having trouble getting used to. She was just so young; twenty-two seemed so far away from fifty-five. “Hollywood has a daddy kink,” is what his agent had said when Keanu had first found out and while he could certainly see the appeal, he wasn’t sure if working with a woman that young was his wisest move.

“Keanu!” Someone called from behind him, and he shook off his thoughts as the familiar female voice grew closer, “They’re almost ready to start.”

It was his agent Eleanor, a woman just about his age, who Keanu had worked with for most of his career, “Yeah, okay,” Keanu pushed off the side of his black Porsche, tossing the stub of his smoke to the ground stomping it out with the toe of his worn boot. At an unhurried pace, Keanu shoved his phone into his pocket, joining Eleanor as she headed back towards the large building in the near distance.

“Are you ready?” Walter asked quietly, close to Y/n’s ear as they took their seats at the long, varnished table. The conference room that the director had instructed them to meet at was a large one, with floor to ceiling windows that let the bright L.A sunshine in, the hint of warmth mellowing out the air-conditioning. It was a huge contrast from the window-less, flat-toned minimalist room that Y/n had auditioned in a few months prior.

“Of course,” Y/n nodded, shifting in the cushions of the leather chair. Laid out in the center table were several varieties of refreshments; hot water and over turned cups for tea and coffee, and a selection of finger foods. Though everything looked inviting, Y/n wouldn’t say it out loud, but she was far to nervous to eat and was certain that any more coffee would have her bouncing off the walls.

Closer to the edges of the table, nearer to the seats; were copies of the script along with pencils. Not too long after Y/n and Walter had taken their place, an older woman in a well-fitting pale pink skirt suit, her heels clicking softly of the black tiles, entered. Close behind her, a taller man with dark hair falling just past his ears walked in, looking like every sin in a movie where the girl next door falls in love with the older man who just moved in; wearing a sport coat over the plain black t-shirt and dark jeans. Keanu fucking Reeves. He was still wearing his sunglasses, though the minute he walked in, he removed them, hooking the Prada shades on the ‘v’ of his t-shirt.

For some reason, though Y/n knew that they’d be in the movie together, she was still a little in awe of his presence at their scheduled table read. ‘Awe’ that Walter would argue was vastly misplaced; she had earned her place in Hollywood and through she hadn’t been in the business for as long as Keanu had , certainly her status should have granted her some immunity to being star-struck. If only that were true.

Quietly, greetings were exchanged and to her surprise, Keanu took the seat directly to her left, shifting awkwardly to offer his hand, “Keanu,” he said briskly.

I know were the words she almost stuttered, but thankfully, she was able to sum up enough courage and push away her initial ‘breathless wonder’ and coolly return, “Y/n, it’s nice to meet you,” she smiled politely. Keanu’s hand was large, easily swallowing hers up and was rougher than she expected, though the little embrace was still warm, welcoming and seemed genuine.

At that, Keanu returned her smile with a faint one of his own, “The pleasure is mine,” he assured her. So he really was as humble as they said.

The end of their introduction was met with a bout of awkward silence; Y/n was too shy to initiate a conversation and Keanu couldn’t think of a thing that he’d have to talk about with a girl her age. When the director; Jackson Gardener, a known name in the genre, walked in, they both straightened in their seats and quickly, another round of introductions were exchanged.

Sinking into his seat, Jackson glanced between the two, pushing up his black-framed glassed up onto the bridge of his nose with the joint of his thumb. Jackson’s whitish-grey hair stuck out widely on all sides, looking severely wind tousled and his beard seemed to be overgrown. “I see you two have met,” he said, gruff and absent, shoving up the sleeves of his charcoal sweater, “Good,” he nodded, “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get into this.”

Y/n’s lips quivered; was he really just going to get started, no setting the scene, no background on their roles and not even a hint of what he was expecting from them? She was about to speak up, ask a question or two, when, surprisingly, Keanu put a tentative palm on her jean clad thigh, his eyes barely meeting hers as if to say, ‘its not worth it.’

Sucking in a nervous breath, Y/n nodded slightly in understanding, grateful that Keanu had possibly just saved her skin. Even after he moved his hand, the warmth of it lingered on Y/n’s leg and she had to fight the feeling that came with the thought of Keanu’s hands on her. Y/n wondered if every other woman who had come in contact with him felt like that. Trying to ignore the whole thing, she picked up the script and tried to immerse herself in the role, hoping that her flustered feelings weren’t seeping through.

Thankfully, the table read was over in just under and hour and while Jackson’s praises were limited and were delivered with his same stoic tone and un-meeting eyes, he had been kind enough to let everyone go shortly after it was over, with promises that they’d all meet in the near future on location.

Y/n was a few paces behind Walter in the parking lot when someone jogged up beside her, his long legs easily bringing him into pace with her steps; Keanu. “Hey,” he said, an she nearly jumped.

For the briefest second, Walter slowed down to turn round and look at them, though, quickly dismissing his concern when he saw it was Keanu. “Hey,” Y/n tried to smile, combating the reappearance of her nerves, “Uh....what’s up?” She couldn’t believe that he was speaking to her. Why was he speaking to her?

Keanu’s hands were in his pockets and his sunglasses blocked out the sun from his eyes, not mention adding to his cool, suave appearance. How could one man be afforded the opportunity to look that good in his fifties?

He towered over her, though Y/n supposed it was because she had opted to pair her light-washed ripped jeans and stylish button up with flat pumps, not aiding her small stature. Maybe it was because she was so nervous, or maybe it was just a part his nature that didn’t translate through the camera during interviews, but Keanu seemed more confident that she’d thought he’d be, seemingly not noticing what a nervous mess he was making of her.

Removing one hand from his pocket to rake his nails through his short beard, Keanu thought on his words for a moment, before he eventually spoke again, “I just wanted to let you know; working with Jackson is gonna be a little tough; he can be kind of an asshole sometimes,” that was something she had quickly caught on to, “But don’t let him spook you, he’s really just one of those ‘crazed artist types’; lots of talk, loads of talent, but sometimes his head is so far up his ass that he forgets that he’s working with actual people,” at that, Keanu chuckled quietly, “The point is; don’t let him get to you. And if you wanna talk, I’d be happy to listen.”

They were approaching a black SUV and Walter was already waiting at the back door for Y/n, though, she knew that he’d give her the space that she needed. “Sure,” Y/n blushed despite herself, “Thanks.”

“No problem, why don’t you take my number, and I’ll take yours?” Keanu had already gotten his phone out and Y/n took a minute to do the same. Briefly, they exchanged devices and by extension; contacts. “Alright,” Keanu determined, reclaiming his cell, “Well, I've gotta get going, but I’ll see you around Y/n,” he quickly patted her shoulder and was already turning to walk off before she could muster up a dumbfounded goodbye.

She had just traded numbers with the Keanu Reeves.

It was about to be an eventful three months.

******

Tagging- @fickensteinn @harrisongslimited @babygirltaina @fanficsrusz @paanchu786

#Keanu reeves #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves x you #keanu reeves fanfic #john wick #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick fanfic #put me in a movie #ff #fanfiction #fanfic #fulff #angst #keanu reeves series #keanu reeves fanfiction

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lunnanunna · 4 years ago

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One of Those Days

SF9 Extra Member AU

Summary: Miyoung is just having one of those days.

A/N: Hope you enjoy!

Requests are open! Let me know what you think.

When Miyoung woke up, she knew that it was going to be one of those days. She never knew how to describe it, but this feeling would settle in the pit of her stomach, then a series of things would go wrong during the day.

What started it off today, was a migraine. It was small and dull, but there, and Miyoung had had enough of these to know that it would evolve to a much stronger one through the day. Then she realized that she had actually overslept and no one had come to wake her up. She had just enough time to throw on some skinny jeans, a hoodie, and sneakers. No breakfast.

Now she was piled in the van sitting in between Sanghyuk and Seokwoo who for some unexplainable reason were arguing about which grape was better. Green or red? Miyoung was going to shove both kinds down their throats if they didn’t lower their voices soon.

“Mimi? You okay?” Miyoung, who had been staring at a grass stain on her white Stan Smiths, looked up and smiled tiredly at Jaeyoon.

“I’m good, Oppa. Just tired,” she answered. There was no point in her telling him about her headache. She’d still have to do the radio show and then go back to the company to practice. A migraine isn’t that big a deal that she couldn’t handle it.

“Did you not sleep well?” Youngbin asked, when he heard Miyoung answer.

She shrugged, “I’m pretty sure I did. I mean, I don’t remember waking up a lot.”

“What time did you go to bed?” Seokwoo asked, finally ending his debate about the fruit.

Miyoung thought for a bit. They had made it home around one seeing as they had a late practice. After getting ready and reading a bit, she had probably fallen asleep around half past three. “A little after three, I think.”

“So, it’s not the latest you’ve gone to sleep,” Youngbin said.

Miyoung felt a warmth feeling on her forehead, and turned to her left to see Sanghyuk checking her temperature. “She feels fine.”

“That’s because I am,” Miyoung said as she straightened herself up. She pushed the older’s hand away, and rolled her eyes at the rest of the boys who kept on staring at her. “Seriously. I’m fine. Just a bit tired, is all.”

“Keep an eye on her. She’d never tell us if she was sick,” Youngbin said, squinting at her. Miyoung squirmed under his gaze. An arm was placed around her, and she jumped a bit, until she saw that it was Seokwoo.

“Jesus, you’re jumpy today,” he chuckled, pulling her towards him. Miyoung sighed as she rested her head against his chest. “Just sleep a bit. You have some time.” The girl nodded, closing her eyes and soon falling asleep.

When Miyoung woke up, it was to Seokwoo shaking her shoulder gently. “We’re here,” he spoke softly. Blinking a few times, Miyoung saw that everyone had already left the van, leaving just Seokwoo and her.

“Thanks,” she mumbled as she rose to her feet and followed him out.

“How’s the headache?” he asked her, pausing at the door, looking back at her.

Miyoung froze, slowly looking up at him. “How’d you know?” she asked him. She was pretty sure that she hadn’t mentioned it earlier.

“Oh, come on. You think we don’t know when you’re having one of your many migraines,” he chuckled, then handed her a water bottle and a painkiller.

“Oh,” was all she said, her face heating up.

“It’s fine,” he chuckled as he stepped out of the van. “Just don’t try to hide it next time,” he said a bit more seriously. Miyoung nodded. She took the tablet then followed him out of the van. Once outside, she squinted at the harsh sunlight.

Her hood was pulled over her head, and when she looked up she saw Chanhee looking down at her, unimpressed. “You have really bad bed hair. Didn’t have time to run a comb through it?” he asked her. Miyoung shook her head, tugging the front of her hood down lower unto her face. She didn’t want the fans to see how unkempt she looked.

Speaking of fans, there were a lot of them today. More than usual when they come to do radio interviews. Miyoung tensed at the sight. She hated crowds. She loved their fans, but her anxiety always picked up in crowds bigger than ten or so people.

Juho moved over to stand next to Miyoung, and wrapped an arm around her as he guided her towards the building. She relaxed a bit at the safety that she now felt, but there was still a light buzz of nerves going through her.

She smiled and waved a bit to the fans as she and Juho followed the rest into the building. Once inside, he loosened his grip on her, but didn’t let go until she gave him the okay. Miyoung was grateful that her boys knew her so well and that she never really had to say much seeing as they could read her so well.

“Thank you,” she smiled at the older who smiled back.

Miyoung then excused herself to go to the bathroom. They still had some time before they had to start the show, so Miyoung could quickly go and put some makeup on. She didn’t have to put too much on, seeing as it was just a radio show, but some foundation, concealer, mascara, and lip tint should be enough.

Once she finished up, and threw her hair in a top knot, she made her way out of the bathroom and walked down the hallway to where the boys were. She hummed to herself, a tune that she had her Juho working on, and smiled absently.

“Excuse me, Miss. But you can’t be back here.” Miyoung stopped walking and looked at the man who seemed to be a staff here.

“Pardon?” she quietly asked.

“Come this way. Fan’s aren’t supposed to be here. I have no idea how you even got this far. I swear you guys keep on getting smarter. Almost evolving,” the man chuckled to himself as he began to lead Miyoung in the opposite direction of where she was supposed to go. The man seemed nice enough that Miyoung could’ve been able to tell him that he was mistaken, but she hated confrontation.

Miyoung pulled her phone out and saw that she had only a few minutes before the show started. Chewing on her lip, she built the courage to speak up. “Excuse me, Sir,” Miyoung began. Her voice was soft, it was a miracle that he had even heard her. She hated how easily she was intimidated.

“Yes?” the man smiled as he kept walking.

“I’m not actually a fan. I’m a guest,” she said, looking at her shoes.

“Nice try. It’s a boy group today, not a girl group,” he stated. A common mistake that Miyoung has had to live with ever since debuting.

“Yeah, I know, but my group, SF9, actually had a female member. Me,” Miyoung said, straightening up a bit towards the end. He’d never believe she was an idol with how timid she was.

The man paused for a bit, then looked at her, seemingly trying to figure out if she was telling the truth. She looked at him, playing with the strings of her hoodie.

“Noona?” Said girl turned towards the voice that came from the end of the hall. Taeyang jogged towards them, looking at the two confusedly.

“Do you know her?” the man asked Taeyang. He nodded, and gently grabbed Miyoung’s wrist pulling her towards him.

“She’s my Noona, and a member of my group, SF9,” he answered politely. It wasn't the first time Miyoung was mistaken for a fan, but she really did wish it’d be the last. This was getting embarrassing.

The man looked at the two, then quickly bowed at Miyoung, “I’m sorry. I hadn’t realized.”

Miyoung waved at him, awkwardly. “It’s fine. It literally happens all the time. And you were really kind. It’s good to know that that’s how you’d treat a fan even if they had gone to an unauthorized area,” Miyoung told the man who smiled sheepishly.

“I probably should have done a bit of research on who the guests were today, huh?” he scratched his head.

Miyoung smiled at him. “Really, it’s fine.”

“We have to get going now,” Taeyang said, bowing quickly at the man. Miyoung did the same, waving as they walked away.

The two walked down the hall, Taeyang looping his arm with hers. “He was nice,” Miyoung spoke up.

Taeyang chuckled, “He was. Probably one of the nicer ones that have found you wandering around.”

“I wasn’t wandering. I was coming from the bathroom,” Miyoung pouted as she was led into the room where the rest of the group was.

“She was mistaken for a fan again,” Taeyang said, going over to sit next to Youngkyun.

“Fourth time this month,” Sanghyuk shook his head chuckling. Miyoung glared at him.

“That’s it. Buddy system for now on. And if you have to go to the bathroom, they’ll wait outside like a guard, okay?” Youngbin folded his arms over his chest.

“Yes, Sir,” Miyoung said, shoulders sagging. She walked over to Seokwoo who patted his lap. Smiling, she sat in it, his arms wrapping around her waist.

“How’s your head?” he asked for the second time that day.

“I dropped from a six to a four. So, better,” she answered honestly. She closed her eyes resting a bit until it was time.

Miyoung prayed to God to go easy on her today. She had such a rough day and it was only ten.

Miyuoung’s Masterlist

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iggy-licious · 4 years ago

Text

One Shot: Hotline Connection

Here’s my next Iggy story… Iggy has picked up an interesting gig while he’s between record label deals. It’s veeery explicit, lots of colorful language. Just seemed right for the Ig.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hello, this is Jim… To whom am I speaking, and how can I make you come today?” He chuckles with a deep, throaty laugh.

Toni is elated and more aroused than she’d expected to be. She has finally connected with Jim, the phone sex operator.

Toni's best friend Wendy told her about the hotline. Wendy had flirted with Jim and brought herself to climax at the sound of his voice and his explicit instructions. She swore that it was just as good as her best face-to-face experiences with her lovers. Wendy's glowing review has Toni dying to experience Jim for herself.

Toni has called the hotline over the past few days and has hung up whenever another man answered. She had been getting frustrated, always calling when Jim wasn’t available. Finally hearing his voice is the best news she’s received all week.

“I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m so happy that I've finally connected with you! I'm Toni.”

Wendy is convinced that Jim is actually Iggy Pop, and that has made Toni more curious. If Jim's voice were to sound anything like Iggy's sinfully testosterone-drenched baritone, Toni knew she'd be in trouble. And, Iggy or not, from the few words Jim has spoken so far, she feels headed toward a scorching interaction.

“I love your voice, Toni. What are you in need of to get off?"

She giggles. She had not been prepared for Jim to be so direct. But it does fit for Iggy, she realizes. It’s still in the realm of possibility that it's him.

“I love your voice, too. It's so deep and masculine… What a turn-on… Um, why don’t you tell me what you look like and what you’re wearing?” She downs a second shot of tequila.

Toni hadn't ever called one of these services before she started her quest to speak with Jim. She feels foolish for asking such sleazy questions, but the liquor in her system convinces her that it’s the right thing to do. And, she rationalizes, it's necessary to have a good vision of Jim to get the most out of the fantasy. Besides, Toni needs to know if her friend’s suspicion about Jim's identity is true.

Toni thinks it's exciting to be intimate with a seductive stranger, sight unseen. She waits for Jim's response and realizes she's holding her breath. His description could make or break the interaction.

“Well, I am a little small in the old height department. Some people think I look kind of weird, but there are plenty of girls and guys who have disagreed with that assessment over the years…" He chuckles. "Athletic build, but kinda sleek, like a ballet dancer. Some asshole once said my dancing looked like Nureyev on bad acid." He drops his voice conspiratorially. "I also like to be nude a lot. It just feels right. I’m inside my house and not wearing anything right now." His devilish chuckle returns.

Iggy or not, Toni feels light-headed as she imagines Jim's lean, bare body. Somehow she ekes out an unfazed "Mmm hmm…"

He continues. "I've dyed my hair black. Big, blue eyes. Some people think they're my best feature. And I know you're probably wondering… My winkie is pretty fucking big. Other people think that's my best feature..."

Toni’s heart skips, and her sex jumps for joy. She’s thinking it just might be him. Iggy. The irrepressible Midwestern accent sounds like his and, by his interviews, she knows that Iggy willingly calls his cock a winkie. There are very few grown men who would do that.

"Now, what about you? What do you look like? It's no fun for you to have more information than I do." He complains in a teasing way that makes it easy to envision him pouting in his home.

"I'm African American, a nice golden brown color, shoulder-length hair, brown eyes. Average height. Curves in all the right places…"

“Mmmm… You sound real hot!” he proclaims. “And I've always loved brown girls. Dated and mated with lots of them. So, now that we’ve gotten the preliminaries out of the way, are you ready to play with me?”

“Yes!” Toni responds quickly. “But there’s one thing I need to know…”

“What’s that, doll?”

“Well, ah, this is going to sound stupid, but are you…, uh… Well… My friend chatted with you, and she thinks you’re--”

“--That crazy guy from The Stooges who liked to stage dive and pull his cock out all the time? Guilty.” He drags out the last word and lust surges through Toni’s body.

“Really?”

“Really.” It's another word that wafts slowly from his lips like the smolder of a fresh fire. It’s underscored by a deep, breathy purr, like a big, grizzled lion has been awakened from its slumber with a desperate need to feed.

“A friend suggested that this would be a great way for me to earn money and have a little fun. The music isn't progressing as smoothly as I'd hoped right now, so I thought, why the fuck not, you know?"

“Oh, my goodness! It's a pleasure to talk to you. I'm a big fan.” Toni is freaking out, but she’s also silently thanking her friend for telling her about the hotline and this very special operator. Toni is standing in her bedroom while she talks, but with this news, she has to lie down on the bed.

"I don't tell people unless they ask, and I'd rather be making music, but I couldn't resist when they offered to set me up at home," Iggy explains. "I mean, you're a fan, can you see moi, sitting in some small, fucking cubicle like a good little employee to make some extra bread?" He laughs, and Toni does, too.

"I was hooked with the first call that came in. I won’t say that it makes me feel powerful or anything, you know, but it does feel real good to know there’s still magic in my voice, even when the label execs are being pussies about getting my music out there. And, of course, flirting with horny callers is not a bad time…"

Toni never thought she’d be seduced by a disembodied voice, but that’s what’s happening. Iggy’s baritone resonates in her body like a good concert sound system and stokes need inside of her in the most pleasing way. She gives kudos to herself for her persistence in finding Iggy, and her courage in confirming it’s him.

“How long have you been doing this?” Toni asks.

“It’s been a few months now. I think I might stick with it, even after the tide turns for my music again. I can work from home, talk to all kinds of people, and get them off with my voice. It's like a private concert with each one of you. It fucking rocks! And, like I said, the dress code… Or lack of one… Perfect for me."

Iggy pauses, and in the handful of quiet seconds a series of sensual scenes and sweaty coupling positions flash through Toni’s mind.

“Is there anything else you want to know?” he asks.

"Do you ever get off when you’re doing this?" Toni blames the liquor and her growing wantonness for this question.

"While I'm on the clock?" He feigns offense before he lowers his voice. "A gentleman never reveals his secrets… But since no one would ever dream of calling me a fucking gentleman, why don't you give me your best shot and see what happens, babe?"

Fuck, Toni says to herself. She’d lose her mind if Iggy would interact with her in a real, primal way. She pauses and imagines a wild alpha of a man, urging her to a heated jumbling of bodies. Her breath catches and her body throbs uncontrollably.

"You still there, horny girl? Come out and play…" He sing-songs his comment, and Toni snaps back to the present. She knows the reality will be much better than fantasy, even if the reality is limited to Iggy’s words and the sound of his voice.

"I'm here."

"Good, Toni. It would be a shame if you were to leave without getting what you need from me… Any more questions, doll?"

“Not really,” Toni replies.

“All right…Can I lead a little for our time together? That OK?"

"Very OK."

"Perfect. You know what I want?”

“What’s that?”

“I’m not as hard as I'd like to be for you. I need to kiss you,” he purrs. “My hands are on your face, pulling you closer to me… Mmm… Your lips are real soft, just like I like ‘em… Can I put my tongue between your lips?”

“Please…” Toni sighs and makes herself comfortable on her bed after having another tequila shot. The floral pattern of the bedroom’s wallpaper begins to recede from her view as her lust leads her to tunnel vision--it's just her body, the phone, and the sexy musician on the other end of the line.

“That’s it… You’re so willing… So welcoming… Do you like how it feels?”

“Oh, yes… Oh, Ig… Jim… uh…”

“You can call me Iggy if it’s more fun that way. Whatever works for you, no big deal. Now, do you like how my tongue feels in your mouth?”

“Yes, Iggy… Mmm…”

“I should let you know that it's pretty fucking long, too. I'm very comfortable using it. Anywhere you want."

"Anywhere?"

"Any-fucking-where," he rumbles.

This proclamation causes Toni’s body to tingle. It's only just begun, and she wonders if she can last until the end.

"Let's talk about your lovely tits… I bet your nipples are real hard right now. Am I right?" He breaks Toni out of her lusty thoughts. "Feel ‘em for me.”

Toni takes off her shirt and bra, and brushes her fingers over her nipples. “Yes, Iggy. So hard. And, um…” She places a hand down her leggings. “I’m very wet, too. I just checked.”

“Fuck, you read my mind… Now, tell me, do you like touching yourself in that way?”

She pulls off her leggings. Her skin feels cool against the comforter as she writhes to the scene that Iggy is creating. She needs release and begins to take care of herself.

“It’s so good, Iggy… I'm thinking of you, and…" Her thought is interrupted by an irrepressible moan.

“Mmm… I can’t wait to get to your pussy… You'll get your chance to imagine me doing it, but right now I want to kiss you some more.”

“Are you a good kisser, Iggy?”

“I’ve been told so, yeah… It's something I enjoy. It can be almost as good as sex with the right girl. Almost.”

Toni’s feeling flushed as she imagines her mouth locked with Iggy’s, imagines clutching the back of his head through the sheaf of his soft hair, imagines the pleasurable recklessness of his tongue. Iggy seems to never do anything half-heartedly, so she knows it would be a sublime experience.

“Oh! Naughty, naughty… Your tongue is chasing mine. Fuck, such a great kisser… I'm going to keep doing this for a while, while I let my hands do whatever they want to you… ”

"Yes," Toni barely breathes out.

"Your skin is so soft… Mmmmm… Fuck, what a hot body you have… You're a real sexy girl…"

"You're so hot yourself, Iggy… You have such a beautiful, strong body... I'm touching you everywhere now…" Toni thinks about the muscular terrain of his torso, and she throbs inside more and more insistently. She answers her body’s call with an expert hand in her wetness.

"Mmmmm… Let's lie down on my bed… I’m on top of you, licking those hard nipples. My, my, my, your moans, doll… I know it feels fucking good to you…"

"So good, Iggy… I'm kissing your neck… Oh! I have to clutch your back. I'm holding on, but I'm going to need you soon, need you inside of me…"

“Mmmmm… I'm afraid I'm going to make you wait a little longer… I'm nice and hard now, but I still need to explore your pussy, you know? Speaking of, I've got a couple of fingers inside of you… Fuck, you are really wet… Now I'm working your clit over… Oh… Need to taste your pussy, dear Toni… I can't help it…"

Iggy's breath comes shallow and rapidly. A soft growl escapes his lips.

"Iggy, are you…"

"Yesss… He hisses through his teeth. "I feel so connected to you. I can't stop thinking of you and what I would do if I was really there..."

The admission is music to Toni’s ears. She imagines him stroking his large shaft and getting into a groove with one hand on his cock and the other on the phone. She continues to pleasure herself, reveling in the intensity of sensation but wishing he was really face-down at her entrance.

"I'm so glad you're joining me, Mr. Pop. We'll have so much fun together…"

"Uhhhh… I think so, too, Toni… You smell real good, and your pussy tastes so fucking good, too… Fuck… So wet..."

"Keep going, Iggy… I'm holding you there… I'm grinding into your face…"

"I'm lapping at your clit… Sucking on it. And I don't have to ask, I know by your moans that you like it."

"Yes, Iggy!" Toni’s fingers dance across her wet, sensitive skin and settle on stoking electric fire through her clit. Her hips buck at her ministrations.

"I wanted to make you come from eating you out, but I can't wait… Maybe some other time?"

"I'd love that. I know I'll be calling back again." Toni’s chuckle is husky with lust.

"Mmmmm… I'm glad to hear it. It's a date, then…" He inhales sharply and a tortured exhale staggers out of his mouth.” Then his voice drops to a murmur. "I need to stick my cock deep inside of you. OK, if I do that now?"

"Yes! Fuck, yes, I need it!"

"Uh…" Iggy exhales another ragged breath. "Do you feel it?"

"Yes! Shit! You’re huge…" Toni knows that Iggy has exposed himself at many performances over the years, and she has heard about how shockingly endowed he is. She’s fantasized about him entering her before, and she can't believe she’s one step closer to that, even if it's a fantasy.

"In that case, let me take it slow. I’ve got nothing but time. Mmmmm, such a tight pussy, Toni… I could stay here for hours."

Toni wails at the thought of him settling in for a marathon of fucking. "That's fine by me, Iggy…" She imagines he has relentless stamina, being as fit as he is. And she imagines he would know how to keep her wet in any way that would keep the sex going, probably in ways that would be new to her. Iggy is a machine onstage, and she’s convinced that he's also a machine in bed.

“I’m grinding into you… Nice grip you have on my ass, doll.”

“I can’t help myself, Iggy… I need every last inch of you.”

“Trust me, that's not a complaint…” His breathing gets more ragged. “Mmmmm… Fuck a phone date, I wish you were here right now… I’m in NYC. Would you come see me sometime if I sent you a ticket?” He utters a long, guttural moan.

“Do you say that to all the callers, Iggy?”

“Only the callers that make me feel this fucking good, and it’s a short list, doll. Just you. And that’s the truth.”

“It would be my pleasure.”

“Yours and mine both, Toni. That’s a guarantee.”

With that, Toni’s fantasy becomes more real, as real as it can be until they’re skin to skin. She inserts a couple of fingers inside of herself. She knows it isn't anywhere close to how Iggy would feel, but it will have to do.

“Jim! Yes! Shit!” It feels right to use his real name, now that this is becoming something more than a simple transaction.

Toni fucks herself a little more quickly. She’s soaked at her core, and so sensitive there. Seconds from paradise. She can feel it. She needs it. She can’t stop now.

“Toni. Toni. Toni…” His breathy worship sounds like an incantation of a fearsome, powerful spell. “I’m so close… So fucking close…” He moans in a way that’s no simulation for a pay-by-the-minute interaction.

“Me too, Jim." She imagines him, eyes wide, mouth agape, his hair plastered to his face and neck from his sweat as his thrusts become punishing. The image, and his shallow breathing on the other end of the phone are all she needs. An overwhelming climax wracks her body and soaks her sheets as her satisfied wail fills her room.

"Mmmm… I’m glad you had a good time. What a beautiful sound, Toni… I'm imagining you flushed, on your back, legs still spread, maybe shaking a little… Your tits moving up and down with your breath… Ohhhhh…"

"You made me feel so good, Jim. Are you ready to come?"

"Yessss… Almost… Fuuuuck…"

"Are you ready?"

"Yes! Oh… Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!!! Jim shouts the last interjection before he exhales an exhilarated groan.

He is silent for a moment, except for the sound of his breathing gradually becoming more gentle. "That was a hell of a nut, Toni. Fuck! Fuck, Toni!" He laughs in disbelief.

"You made me feel the exact same way, Jim… My friend Wendy was right, you are the best."

"Ah! Thank you, babe. It's sexy girls like you who make this gig all worthwhile. Listen… I know you'll be hanging up soon… That wasn't a cheap line earlier, OK? Let's exchange numbers. I wasn't being a flirty rock asshole when I said I wanted to see you. I mean it. You got a pen handy?"

Jim and Toni exchange numbers and some more pleasantries while they gather their composure and make plans to meet.

"Well, OK, doll, the lights are flashing wildly on my batphone… Other callers coming in. Call me anytime before you hop on that plane in a few weeks. But do yourself a favor? Make it that private number I gave you. I need another date with you. No more waiting in line with the common callers."

"Sounds good, Jim. I’ll call again soon. I can't wait until we chat again. Bye!"

"Bye, Toni."

Toni hangs up before Iggy does. She takes one more shot of tequila and prepares to get on the phone again, to tell Wendy about her unbelievable call.

#iggy pop #the stooges #classic rock #punk #punk rock #garage rock #protopunk #one shot #fanfic #fan fiction #short story #short fiction

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dreamingabouttaron · 4 years ago

Text

The Assistant Part 5

Weeks past and you didn’t hear a single thing from Taron. You feel hurt and confused. You try to distract yourself with work, replying to emails, organising interviews for clients, reviewing scripts for clients but your mind was constantly brought back to Taron. You had never felt so humiliated, had you got the wrong end of the stick? Was he scared? Did you do something wrong? Your mind span with question after question. For the past week, you had found it near impossible to not check Taron’s social media. But nothing. Not a single post or like. You started to worry. It was only a couple of days before you were supposed to be going with Taron to assist him with the filming of Robin Hood.

As you sat at your desk at work, surrounded with piles of approved and unapproved scripts for clients; your eye was caught when you noticed your boss walk back into the office after her lunch meeting followed by a certain someone. You quickly snap your head to look down at your desk, you feel your heart pounding in your chest. Try to look busy. You thought. You picked up the nearest script and opened it at a random page. You hear Lindy’s office door shut and you slam the script shut, sit back in your chair and release a sigh of relief. Did he look at me? Did he even notice me?

“What the heck was that about?”

You jump at the sound of James voice. You turn to look at him and blush. “Oh nothing, just thought I read something in here…” You voice trails off knowing how unconvincing you sound.

“Sure…” He looks smug, “How about we go and make ourselves some tea?” He stands up and holds his hand out to you. You giggle and take his hand and follow him into the office kitchen. The kitchen itself was small but sweet, perfect for part time use at work. It was a space that allowed the colleagues to catch up and socialise during their breaks.

“Right, spill it!” James demand as he starts to boil the kettle.

“It’s a long story. Just promise me you won’t tell anyone. I can’t be dealing with everyone knowing my business.” You get two mugs out of the cupboard and place a tea bag in each. You see James nod which encourages you to continue. You gently wrap your hands around the cold ceramic material of one of the cups, perhaps this was to ground yourself and give yourself something to focus on.

***

Once you had explained everything to James you took the last sip of your tea and placed the cup back down on the coffee table in front of you. You look at him waiting for a sign. You scan this face but his expression was hard to read.

“Please say something” You begged.

James places a warm hand on your leg and smiles. “Everything is going to be okay, I promise. I’m sure he’s got a lot going on at the moment and just needs some time to think.”

You nod in agreement. You had hoped that was the case. “I hope so. Thank you for letting me vent, it’s been a strange few weeks.”

“I’m here whenever you need me. Now don’t you dare keep me out the loop with everything that happens over filming!” You both giggle, relived to have got everything off your chest. You knew that James was going to be a good friend, “I mean it! I’m here for this, I can see you both together!”

You once again thank James and you both get back to your desks; just as you were getting comfortable in your office chair you watch Taron and Lindy leave her office. You felt a lot better after talking to James, you didn’t feel as though you had to hide from him this time. You raise your eye line when you see Taron slowly glide his way over to your desk. His hands tucked into his jacket pockets just like that had been the last time you saw him. You can feel James eyes glued into your side watching every move.

“Good afternoon Taron.” You smile as you contain several emotions racing through your body.

“Good afternoon Megan.” His eyes looked lost, you wanted to reach out and hold him.

“How can I help you?” You tried to remain as emotionless as possible. You could see in his eyes that he wanted to say something but couldn’t.

He cleared his throat, “Can you contact the studio about the bow and arrow please? I have it from rehearsals but the studio need to pick it up to fly it out before Thursday.”

You put your professional hat on and nodded and smiled politely. “Of course, anything else?”

He took his time, you watched his eyes scan your face until he finally shook his head, “No. I’ll see you on Thursday.” And with that he was gone.

You watch him float out of the office, you bit the inside your mouth wishing you had said something. Why was he so blunt? You look over at James and you both shrug.

“Don’t think about it. You’re fine!” He calls over to you as you feel a lump form in your throat. I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine You repeat to yourself as you get onto the studio as requested.

***

A few days later you are stirred from your sleep by the sound of your alarm. You groan and reach over to turn your alarm off. 5:00am. Fantastic. You lay in bed and consider if you had enough time to stay there for another few moments. You felt too safe and comfortable wrapped in your duvet. You knew that from the moment you unwrapped yourself, that safe feeling wouldn’t be returning. Not until you figured out what was going on with Taron. You run your hands over your sleepy face hoping to make you feel more awake. You could feel that you were on the verge of falling back to sleep when your second alarm started. Right, here we go. You thought and resistantly pulled the covers off your body. The cold air shocked your body encouraging you to jump straight in the shower to wake you up.

***

You thanked your Uber driver as he assists you with your luggage. You hadn’t packed much, you’d tried to pack as efficiently as possible. You wheeled your case into the terminal at Gatwick Airport. You looked around the fairly calm airport, no sign of Taron. You got your phone out of your pocket and sent Taron a text alerting him that you had arrived at the airport. After not receiving a reply, you decided to stand in line to check in. The line was pretty short and you had checked in and sent your luggage off in no time. You checked the time and started to panic. You had one job Megan! Why didn’t you contact him earlier? Maybe he slept in? Maybe he’s stuck in traffic? Or, maybe he’s just ignoring your messages. If so, this wasn’t going to be a fun trip.

You decide the best thing to do was to call Taron. You hovered over his name and number on your phone, you knew you had too but it still feel intimidating, especially after not speaking for weeks. You build up the courage and pressed hard and fast on his name. You raise the phone to your ear and listen to the dial tone over and over. Just as you were about to hang up, he picks up.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me. I’m at the airport. Where are you?”

“I’ll be there in a moment, I’m just getting my bags out the car. Could you come and help me?”

“Of course, I’ll come out the front now. See you in a sec.” You smile at yourself feeling proud. See that wasn’t too bad. You thought as you placed your phone back into your pocket and confidently stride out to the front of the terminal. You instantly spot Taron with all his bags. You chuckle to yourself watching him struggle. He had bags all over the pavement and a bag flung over his shoulder which swung from side to side hitting the side of his body as he pulled another case out of the trunk of the car.

“Someone’s packed lightly.” You tease, receiving an exasperated look in return. “Let me help.” You help Taron and the driver unload the car. He thanks the driver and turns to look at you.

“Good morning, I’m so sorry I’m late. It’s been one hell of a morning already.” He apologises and uses his eyes to win you over. How could they not?

“It’s fine you don’t need….” You are sharply interrupted.

“T! I finally found one.”

You look to your right to see a stunning tall brunette stride over to you with a luggage trolly. Your eyes looked her up and down, you couldn’t stop looking at her legs. Fuck.

You snap your head in Taron’s direction, the look on your face must have been priceless.

“You must be Megan, I’ve heard so much about you.” The tall brunette smiles and goes to shake your hand.

“Megan, this is Emily. My girlfriend.”

Fuck.

#taron x reader #taron egerton #taron fanfiction #Taron Fanfic #taron egerton fanfic #taron egerton imagine #fanfiction

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paodequeijofeliz-blog · 4 years ago

Text

Let me tell you a good story

Bloodbound Fanfiction (characters and main story belongs to Pixelberry Studios).

Pairing: Kamilah Sayeed and MC (Annie)

Information: this takes place after Bloodbound 3, here I’m recreating how Kamilah and MC would meet if she had never gone to Raines Corporation right away.

Summary: Thirty years after meeting Annie for the first time, Kamilah is now a wife and a mother. During a regular family dinner, she decides to tell her daughter and their new son-in-law the story of how she fell in love with Annie after an unusual meeting through the hallways of NYU.

Warnings: none

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

Let me tell you a good story - Part 3

March 2nd, 2048 “No way!” Drake leaned back on the chair, laughing his heart out. “You didn’t realize that Ms. K. Sayeed was her??”

“No!!” Anna whined behind her hands. “I found out later.”

“A month later, might we add.” Kamilah was shaking her head judgementally. “You cannot imagine how much fun I had listening to her complaining about the boss, ‘Ms. Sayeed’, right in my office.”

“FOR ONE MONTH?” Drake’s chin fell.

“I… I… Uh, come on! It’s not my fault. She signed her works with ‘K. Sayeed’. How the hell would I know? I don’t google every author I read.”

“But, ma’am, she told you her name was Kamilah right before joining a conference which had for main lecturer a ‘K. Sayeed’.”

“Wait, let me defend her now.” Lysia put a hand on Drake’s arm, suddenly monopolizing his attention. The diamond ring on her finger sparkled against the light. “In Brazil, Kamilah is a quite common name, but not with a ‘K’. It’s always with a ‘C’. She had never met a ‘Kamilah’ with a ‘K’ before. Therefore, she couldn’t link my mom’s name with ‘K. Sayeed’. It’s like someone telling you her name is ‘Kate’ right before going to a conference held by, I don’t know, ‘C. Hudson’. Would you automatically think this could be a ‘Cate’ with a ‘C’?”

Kamilah gave her daughter a proud smile. There was her little genius lawyer showing up. Every time Lysia put on that tone on her voice, so delicate yet firm and confident, the vampire queen would feel the urge to applaud and hug her tight. She grew up so fast. When did my little fairy princess-ninja become a beautiful woman?

“Ok, ok. Now I get it.” Drake gave in, melted by the argument as much as by Lysia’s touch. “Go on. When did you find out? What happened?”

Annie took a deep breath, her face already back to its natural colour. “So, after I basically criticized and called her thesis’s conclusion to be stupid… And laughed at Adrian’s thesis as well… Kamilah just fell in love.”

The woman beside her almost choke on wine. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, please. You got horny cause I had the audacity to criticize your work. No one had done it before.”

“MOM!” Lysia twitched her nose. “Please, do not say horny. That’s not a picture I want in my head.”

“Alright. Your mother felt very… Blissful. She spent an entire week thinking about my gorgeous audacity, until she finally took the courage to invite me out on a date. Actually, to command her assistant to do it.” Anna shot an accusing glare. “Couldn’t do it yourself, huh? Coward.”

Kamilah crossed her legs, avoiding that look. “We could say, if you insist, that I was only being careful to let someone more… Social… Handling the situation. And it wasn’t a real date.”

Annie laughed. “Right. I know you just wanted to see me again.”

August 22nd, 2018

Days were getting a bit too cold for Anna’s taste. She had grown in such a hot city that anything under 25ºC (77ºF) was already considered freezing. Hence why she was wearing heavy pajamas and socks that afternoon, all covered in blankets while eating cookies. It was her day off and Princess Bride was on TV. She had seen it a hundred times, for it was her favourite movie, yet still laughed at the same jokes. One day, months later, Annie would watch it again with her girlfriend. Three years from now, with her wife. In ten years, with her five-year-old child between her legs. But tonight, all she was aware of was a warm feeling on her chest, the urge to see someone she didn’t know how to find.

“Stop it”. She stared at the cookies, scowling. “It was just a random woman. You don’t even know anything about her. She could be a boring ass businessperson.”

“Ahem.” Kamilah interrupted the story, an icy glare coming down at Annie. “I don’t understand why being a businessperson sounds like a flaw in your mouth.”

“Not the point. Hush.”

The movie was about to end when a high sound made Anna jump on the couch.

“Phone! Ok, where is it…” She went looking around the mess of books and papers, until finally finding it hidden inside a pencil case. “Yes, hello. Hi.”

“…Am I speaking to Ms. Anna Mali?”

“Yup, that’s me. Who is this?”

“Ms. Mali, my name is Jacob Lee, I’m… Kamilah’s assistant. She wished to know if you’re available to have dinner tonight, at seven o’clock.”

“Oh.” Annie sank on a chair, confused. “Are you asking me out on a date? I mean, Kamilah. Through you.”

“I’m… Not sure if she would like me to answer that. I was specifically told to call you and set dinner to either tonight or Saturday night. Whatever suits your schedule.”

“Right. Can you put her on the phone, please?”

“She is at a meeting now.”

“Of course.” Annie sighed, disappointed. “Ok. Tonight’s perfect. Where should I meet her?”

“I’ll text you the address. Thank you for your time, Ms. Mali.”

Something was off. Anna stared at her phone, trying to understand what just happened when Lily’s voice appeared from the steamy bathroom. “So, I think now we’ve officially ran out of hot water. What ya doing, girl? Let’s put another movie on.”

“I... Think I might have a date. In two hours.”

“WHAT? Is it the hot woman you met that day? Was it her on the phone?” Lily grew impatient by the silence. “Come on! Give me something here!”

“Yes, I… Lil, okay, listen, this is super important. Help. Me. Look. Gorgeous.”

She took the mission seriously. Without much time to think about it, Lily fetched a nice fancy dress, combed her hair into a loose bun, put on a provocative shade of red lipstick and, finally, struggled against the decision of which coat letting her use. Normally, Anna would wear something warm and heavy. It was 20ºC (68ºF) outside, and for her that was enough reason to burry herself in clothes. But Kamilah would definitely judge it.

“Ok, blood. You better boil in there and keep my friend warm because we’re doing this.” Lily handed her a light and elegant lace coat.

“Is my accent too strong?” she bounced at the doorway, still unsure.

“Yes, and for the hundredth time, don’t let this bother you so much. You speak four languages, for fuck’s sake. If anyone around here mocks your accent again, I’ll kick his ass. Stop worrying and go. Text me if you need rescuing, alright?”

It was 06:45 when she left the apartment. Ten minutes later, her cab stopped at the destination.

“Have a good date, miss!” said the driver.

“Thank you! But… Wait, is this correct?”

“Yes, miss. It’s the address you gave me.”

They were parked outside a huge and beautiful business building. Not the kind of place for dates. Anna walked in with a confused look on her face. A sign on the wall said “Ahmanet Financial”. That’s oddly familiar. The moment she approached the balcony, a young man came to greet her. His voice sounded familiar the minute he started speaking.

“Good evening, Ms. Mali. Kamilah must be down in a minute. Could you kindly wait at the lobby?”

“Hm, Jacob… Right? Jacob Lee.”

“Yes, that would be me.”

“I’ll wait, no problem. She can take her time.”

“No need.” Kamilah’s voice made them jump. She had just stepped out of the elevator. “You can go back upstairs, Jacob. Thank you.”

“Yes, Ms. S… I mean, Kamilah. Boss. I’m going.” The assistant seemed troubled, walking hesitantly away from them.

Anna opened her mouth to ask what the hell happened to him, but she shut it when her eyes noticed the look on the other woman’s face. Kamilah’s stare started on her shoes, slowly climbing the legs covered by pantyhose, passing through the black flowered dress, lingering a while at the neckline and finally reaching the red lips. The Brazilian felt so deeply analysed a shiver went through her spine. Kamilah’s critical eyes weren’t giving away her thoughts. She could be either enjoying or hating the view, there was no clue.

“Good evening.” Anna spoke, both hypnotized and insecure. “Uhm… You… You look gorgeous. Well. Fancy. You look fancy. Let’s go with that.”

Kamilah arched an eyebrow, slightly surprised. “Thank you. May we go?”

“Sim. May. We may.” Annie sighed. “Sorry, sometimes I still struggle against the language.”

“Don’t worry. I am familiar with the feeling.” Kamilah walked back to the elevator without even checking if the girl was following.

“So, you’re not American?” she tried to catch up her fast pace.

“No. I’m Egyptian. But I came here a long time ago.”

Annie kept her silence, well-aware that the woman was staring at her again. Maybe that wasn’t a date at all, but a job interview. Maybe she was being considered to fit a position. No… It doesn’t make sense. My work has nothing to do with all of this. When the elevator doors opened, it was to the entrance of a highly fancy restaurant. A tall hostess came to greet them while another one guided both to an empty table by a huge window.

“Red or white?”

“What?” Anna looked away from the view. “Oh, the whine. White, please. Sauvignon Blanc.”

Kamilah kept her posture, not even glancing at the whine menu. Even though her expression was unreadable, the tone on her voice seemed a little impressed. “You heard the lady, Mr. Kendall. Bring us the best Sauvignon Blanc you have.”

“Right away, miss.”

Anna watched as the waiter left them, suddenly noticing they were the only two clients there.

“How was the other professor’s article?”

“Who?” The Brazilian woman looked down, momentarily searching her memory. There went the fingers entangling again. “Oh. You mean Faith? From that night? It was good. There were a few improvements to do, though.”

“I see.”

Anna smiled as the waiter poured the wine for them. Her hands seemed to hesitate, waiting for Kamilah to drink it first, only then taking a sip herself. After that, her body began to relax, black eyes sparkling as analysing the Egyptian’s features. “How was the lecture? Did you enjoy it?”

“It was pleasant. Some of the speakers were quite good.”

“I actually googled Ms. Sayeed works afterwards, while I was waiting for Faith.”

Kamilah’s lips opened a small smile, her voice showing a hint of curiosity. “And?”

“She has some articles about history I wasn’t aware of. She can be really interesting when is not talking about economics.” Anna taped her fingers together, trying to speak slower so she wouldn’t miss the pronunciation. “I read four of them. Two about history itself. Loved these. She gets the job of the historian in a way only a few do… It’s almost like she can feel the passing of time, our history, differently than the rest of us.”

Kamilah crossed her legs, still amused. “What about the other two?”

“It’s hard for me to criticize it, they were about Egyptian history. I don’t know much of this subject. It was well-written, that’s for sure.” Anna narrowed her eyes, like something was finally connecting. “Wait.”

Egyptian history. Egyptian woman. Ahmanet Financial.

“This place…” She inclined her head, confused. “Is this place hers? Ahmanet Financial?”

“Yes, it is.”

“And you… Are you like… Her partner or something? Do you work for her?”

Kamilah sighed. I cannot believe this. “Well, yes. I suppose we can say that.”

Anna was still blushing. A beautiful tone of pink matching the red lips. “I knew the name of this building was familiar. Why didn’t you tell me? I wouldn’t have said all these things if I knew she was your boss.”

“I appreciated the honesty.” Kamilah seemed to become more serious, her smile replaced by a solid face. “Ms. Sayeed… People don’t often say such straightforward thoughts about her work. Although I do disagree with you in many aspects, your opinions were truthful and valuable.”

Annie closed her eyes of embarrassment. Since she was already feeling exposed, why not rip the band-aid off? “Kamilah, is this a date or a professional meeting?”

The woman in front of her laughed for a second. “Oh, dear. You couldn’t possibly handle me on a date. Now… Let’s get down to business.”

#kamilah sayeed #kamilah x mc #choices kamilah #bb kamilah #choices: stories you play #choices: bb #yes for me 20ºC (68ºF) is freakin freezing #but that's cause I grew up in the 40ºC (104ºF) city #also accents are cute but ughhhhh I do struggle against mine

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