#im still not over the fact they took the word of only 4 officers over the 17 people who said they saw her brake
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hatsalad · 9 months ago
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I actually kinda wish I could have personally seen the reactions of everyone who were so adamant that Titanic never split when her wreck was found not in one piece.
Give me a time machine to just present pictures of the wreck in the faces of the people who said she never broke like
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myimmortaltribute · 26 days ago
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EpIsOdE 2 SeAsOn 1
HIII!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IM SO excited to present to u the second episode of my series BLACK ROSE* Hope You EnJoY!4
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It was a week after what had happened and I was still shocked af. Luckily with the principal'sspell time and space went back to normal so it was as if nothing had happened so people weren't dead or injured or anything. I sighed a sigh of relief when I saw that my bff Trixy & Katya at school and that they were ok. They had no idea what happened (thank fuck). The principal took me into her office and made us a tea and took her dark glasses off, revealing her bright yellow eyes and began telling me a story.
Principal: Many years ago, Lilith and Dracula had a daughter. Lilith is a powerful hybrid: part human, part demon and part vampire. While Dracula is the supreme vampire, the most powerfull vampire of all. When the daugter was born, Viper, a demon that was Dracula's helper, became jelous of his power and decided to attack him and his family ans swore to find and kill his child to absorb all her powers and become the most powerful demon of all worlds. So Lilith and Dracula hypnotized a couple of humans to make them believe that the kid was their daughter and they escaped to save both her and themselves. Hoever,Viper was powerful so she found her so Dracula sent a boy to be her bodyguard and protect her. The boy's name is Damon Athame. The girl's name is Raven Morticia Lilith Blackrose, or maybe I should say… You are Dracula Blackrose's Daughter… After all, your third name is your mother's name…
I was too stunned to speak. I strugled to believe her words even after a week it all felt like a dream, but it wasn't, I had to acept the truth. The truth that it was all true. The fact that my parents werent realy my parents broke my heart at first but evenruallt it was easy for me to get over it (afte all I didnt resemble neither of them and nobody else in my family). After that story the principal explained other things to me like: Damon was a vampire & he was my dad's royal guard. Cory was a vampire with fire powers. Even Peter and Adam were vampires and Peter had ice powers and Adam had no powers. Most vampires get powers when they turn 16 but only pure vampires meaning vampires born from two vampire parents which Damon wasn't bc he was born a human and was turned.
I was doing research on vampires on my laptop when someone knocked on my room's door. (My room is very goth. Black walls, black bed and bedsheets and a black comforter with black pillows. I have black and purple lace curtains and a gothick desk. The walls have a bunch of posters on the walls of goth & metal bands like AC-DC Metallica & stuff & posters of vampires). Anway when they knocked i practically threw my pc away to prevent the people from seeing what I was looking at on my pc and pretended I was doing nothing. Luckily, it was my best friends.
Trixie: Hey Raven! Your mom let us in. How r u? Me: Hiii!! (hugs them) Im ok, what about you? Trixie & Katya: were good.
Trixy and Katya got inside and I closed the door before we set on my bed as always.
Trixie: So, I noticed some stuff… Me:…What do u mean? Trixie: You have a secret you still havent told ur bffs…
Trixie smiled maliciously and I went pale (even paler than i already was) thinking immediately I was caught and they found out my secret and my true identity.
Me: Se-se-secret??? I-I have no secret!!
I blurted out while sweating.
Katya: We saw u with Cory and the others! Trixi: Yea like, we dont care that u have other friends but when there the most popular guys in school, it would have AT LEAST been nice if u told us!! Me: Oh… U meant that… hehe…
I sighed a sigh of relief internally thanking god they didnt suspect anything. if they knew abt the existence of vampires and demons they would for sure be in big trouble and I didnt want to put there lifes at risk. (especially since they were my best friends since elementary school.)
Trixie: Now you gotta do something to make it up to us. Me: Uhm…what? Trixie: You introduce us to them, obv!
I sighed and laughed with them playfully rolling my eyes.
Me: Ok, ok… Ill call them and see if they wanna hang out since tomorrow is sunday and we dont have school. Trixie & Kayta: YAYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I called Cory and immediately decided to meet at the park. Trixie and Katya were dressed in pretty short dresses (still kinda goth but also a bit preppy) while I dressed how i always dress, black skirt with black fishnets and a black corset and a black top with black fingerless gloves and black boots + goth accessories + black make up. (I wasnt trying to show off its just my style). I was unconfortable bc it was clear they were using me to meet the guys but i loved my besties too much to say anything so i stayed quiet. When we arrived to the park they were already there. Damon said hi to me bedore every1 else and it made me feel buttefrlies in my stomach.
Trixie: Hi every one! We are Raven's friends! Peter: Its a pleasure to meet you madmoisel (he kisses her hand) Trixie: (a bit grossed out) Uh… hi.
Trixie turned twards Damon.
Trixy: HIIII u must be Damon. Raven ALWAYS tlks about u!!! (laughs)
I felt embarrassed. What was she saying??? Ofc I talked about him, bcause he was my crush, but I was doing that in private just like she would talk to me and Katya abt her crushes!! (Which were a different guy every week btw)
Damon: Ah… She talks about me? Really? (embarased) Adam: (interrupting them) And me? Does she talks abt me??? Trixie: ………………Idek who u are tbh. Adam: But…But…
The guys laughed and Cory started to talk abt something else to ease the tension and the general akwardness… While everyone was talking, after a while Damon got away from the group to come near me.
Damon: Raven… Me: Uhm…Yes…? Damon: I wanted to ask…How are you? Are you still shocked from what happened? Me: (stuttering and blushing) W-W-Well…NO! I-Im fine::!! Damon: I am your protector, you can tell me if you're not ok (MCR REFERENCE) (He takes her hand) Trixie: (interrupting) Heyyyyyyyyyyy what are u talking about? Come on share it with the group!
Damon turned around visibly irritated and let go of my hand b4 going towards the rest of the group
Trixie: U 2 are suspicious….. (goes tpards the rest pf the group)
At the end of the night Katya was cuddling with Peter and Trixie was cuddling with Adam on the bench while Sally was on her phone alone. I observed them and noticed immediately that there behavior was strange. When Trixie and Katya kissed thir new guys instead of closing there eyes, Katya looked towards Cory and Trixie looked at Damon, even tho the guys didn't even notice them in the slightest. At that point all was clear and obvious: they didnt just wanr to use me to meet the popular guys and become part of the popular friend group but they wanted to become popular by going out with Cory and Damon which every girl in school liked. I felt hurt and betrayed in my soul especially by Trixie bc she knew very well that I liked Damon but she was still trying to get w him, and then bc of their general behavior in that situation because they were leading on two guys who didn't do anything to them. In the end every1 went home. I threw myself on the bed HEARTBROKEN. I was about to go to sleep when I heard a notification on my phone. I opened it and blushed: It was Damon.
Damon: (text) Is your friend stupid or what? She stared at me the whole time while she was making out with Adam LOL And I think they were both too snobby and preppy. Idk who they thought they were impressing with those heels. You were definitely much prettier.
The text made me feel butterflies in my stomach again and it made me smile. We spent the night texting and fell asleep on facetime.
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reidgraygubler · 4 years ago
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skater boy (spencer reid)
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Title: skater boy
Request: no
Pairing: dad!spencer reid/child!fem!reader
Category: fluff
Content Warning: not much tbh, mentions of the following: broken bones; getting broken bones, possible hospital visits
Word Count: 3,453
Summary: Spencer wants to spend more time with his daughter. So she teaches him how to skateboard
A/N: im back with another dad!spencer one-shot. We don’t need to address where all these dad! one shots are coming from. im just realizing that this is my favorite trope and this makes me very soft. And it made me very happy to write. thank you all so much for the support! i really do appreciate it. check out my masterlist!
{***}{***}{***}
Spencer’s daughter had always been a dare-devil. Ever since she began walking, she would show-off. She would always give her parents heart attacks when she would show them a new trick she learned at school. Spencer vowed from the day she was born that he’d protect her like his life depended on it. But he didn’t know just how hard that would be.
While Spencer’s partner was gone on a business trip, he had to take on both parental roles. Usually it was no problem, he would get the help of the other members of the BAU team when he got stuck. But on the weekends, he was left on his own. He had no problem with that. His daughter was old enough to have her own forms of entertainment.
The list of hobbies she had was ever growing. Drawing was probably the safest one she had, but in her eyes it was the most boring. It was, however, Spencer’s favorite because he could keep an easy eye on her while he worked or made lunch/supper.
His daughter’s favorite hobby was skateboarding. Although she wasn’t very good at it, she loved the feeling of danger and risk it had. The majority of her friends at school also liked to skateboard. After all, she did pick it up from one of them. It didn’t take much convincing for her to jump on a skateboard.
When Spencer found out about his daughter’s new hobby, concern instantly took over. Concern for her wellbeing, her safety, and health. Skateboarding could be very dangerous if not wearing the correct protective gear. He didn’t want to take away his daughter’s new joy. But he also didn’t want her to get injured.
The day she came home with her friend’s old skateboard was very memorable for both her and Spencer. But for different reasons. His daughter was excited about her new hobby, and being able to show off cool tricks she was learning. As for Spencer…
She was in the middle of showing him a trick that a friend taught her. She was very confident in what she was doing, and told her father she could do it and that he just needed to stand off to the side. That was until she fell off the board and landed hard on the ground. Thankfully she didn’t hit her head, but the only reason for that was because she caught herself on her hand and broke her wrist.
This hobby was picked up only 3 months ago. Her wrist was still in it’s cast, though her determination to ride her skateboard never went away. Even though she knew her father was scarred for her safety, he didn’t stop her from riding. In fact, he got her the proper safety gear and a new skateboard. Of course Spencer only did that after he talked to the team, and got advice from them.
“Dad! Uncle Rossi’s here!” the teen shouted from the front door. David Rossi looked down at the girl, and the skateboard in hand. “I think he’s in his office.”
“I’ll head that way. Then the kitchen,” David nodded before entering the home more. Spencer’s daughter pulled the door shut before sprinting down the front yard to the sidewalk. She placed her skateboard on the ground before getting on and riding up and down the street.
Inside the Reid household, David was with Spencer. The father and daughter had decided to invite the team over for dinner since it was just the two of them, and it was the weekend. David was talking about the most recent case while Spencer read over some essays he needed to grade.
“Has she asked you to ride that thing yet?” David asked as he looked out the window. Spencer’s daughter was talking to one of the neighbor boys.
“Oh, uh, not yet, no. It’ll be the death of me the day she does ask,” Spencer laughed as he looked out the window. Spencer breathed out a laugh as he watched his daughter do a kickflip, landing it perfectly before looking back at the boys. Her hand was sticking out and a smirk grew across her lips. “I told her not to place bets.”
“Like father, like daughter?” David raised an eyebrow as he looked at Spencer.
“The least she could do is place bets with adults, not the kids next door.” Spencer looked back at David as he stood and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Would you ever ride that death trap?”
“Who says I haven’t already?”
“Of all the people I've asked, why do you surprise me the least?” Spencer laughed as he looked at his co-worker. David shrugged off the laugh and looked back at the young girl. The pair stayed silent as they watched the girl continue to show off to the boys.
A green mini van pulled to a stop across the street from the Reid’s house. Spencer’s daughter stopped skateboarding and looked at the van, watching 4 kids tumble out.
“Looks like the Simmons’ are here,” David spoke as he looked back at Spencer.
“It would appear that way. I’ll show you to the grill?” Spencer asked, raising an eyebrow as he looked at David. David nodded before gesturing towards the door to his office.
“Lead the way.”
Back outside, Spencer’s daughter was talking to Matt’s sons as they stared at her skateboard. Matt and Kristy exited the car and quickly pulled out the baby carrier holding Rosemary. The girl was quick to go up to see the baby, a smile growing on her lips.
“Hey there, Chickadee. How’s it going?” Matt asked as he raised a hand for a high five.
“It’s going,” she replied, giving him the high five before peering into the carrier.
“When’s the cast coming off?” Matt asked as he looked at the girl. She looked down at the aqua blue cast and shrugged.
“Soon I think. I can’t wait because dad’s being such a drill sergeant about it," she shrugged again before dropping her skateboard to the ground.
“He’s just trying to protect you, Chickadee,” Matt smiled as he watched her place her foot on the skateboard. “Just be careful.”
“I’m always careful, Mr. Simmons.” She looked up at him with a smile.
“It’s Matt…” he laughed and watched as she rode away. Kristy looked at Matt then watched as the younger Reid fell off her skateboard and into the grassy yard.
“Looks like she’s always careful,” Kristy laughed as she lifted up the baby carrier. Matt looked over at the girl lying on the grass and laughed.
“Well, you better wish she doesn’t start teaching our kids how to skateboard,” Matt replied with a laugh.
Over the next 30 minutes, the rest of the BAU family arrived at the Reid household. JJ brought her kids and Will to keep Spencer’s daughter more company. Once everyone arrived, David started cooking the food while everyone sat and talked, or played in the drive-way.
“Why don’t you give it a go, Spence?” JJ asked as she watched Spencer’s daughter zoom past the house. Spencer looked over at JJ and shook his head.
“Yeah, I’d pay to see that happen,” Luke chuckled as the girl rode past them again. She came to a screeching halt and looked at Luke.
“You’d pay to see dad skateboard?” She picked up her skateboard and held it by the wheels. Luke smiled as he looked over at Spencer. “How much are you talking? Because, I’d love to get money to see my dad skateboard.”
“Peanut,” Spencer spoke up as the girl kept talking about money and bets, and trying to get her father to ride her skateboard.
“Yeah, Dad?” she looked back at her father once she was done babbling about getting him to skateboard.
“Go play," he nodded towards Matt’s children as they were playing with her toys.
“B-but,” she stumbled over her words as she pointed towards Luke.
“Go play.” Spencer repeated, that time a little slower. His daughter let out a sigh before placing her skateboard back on the ground and skating away.
“You sure you don’t want to try, Reid?” Emily smiled as she looked back at her friend.
“No, no. I’ll leave the skateboarding and dare-devil activities to her,” Spencer laughed before taking a sip of his water. JJ raised an eyebrow before looking over at the kids. Her eldest son was talking to Spencer’s daughter, asking her if he could ride the skateboard.
“She’d probably love it if you did,” JJ looked back at Spencer.
“Not for $100 will I ride that death trap,” Spencer declared before taking a sip of his water.
“What about $150?” David asked before sipping his drink. Spencer nearly spat his water everywhere as he looked over at David.
“If you say that loud enough she’ll hear you… And then I’ll never hear the end of it,” he pleaded as he looked back at his daughter, who was helping Henry on the skateboard.
“Maybe we should say it louder,” Luke chuckled as he looked over at the girl.
“You go ride it then,” Spencer nodded at Luke then at the children and skateboard. Luke looked back at Spencer and the rest of the team before standing up. “Oh, I didn’t mean it.”
“Shouldn’t have said it then.” Luke smirked as he walked past Spencer and towards the group of kids.
Everyone watched in silence as Luke approached Spencer’s daughter. She cocked her hip and looked up at the man that stood in front of her. An evil smile grew across her lips as she undid the helmet on her head and held it up to Luke.
“Dad says you have to wear it if you’re going to ride the skateboard,” she explained as she kept the helmet between their bodies. Luke looked down at the girl, watching as she guarded the skateboard with her life.
“Fine, I’ll wear the helmet-”
“And the knee pads.” She smirked.
“And the knee pads.”
“And the wrist splints,” she quickly added as her smirk grew evil.
“I’ll wear the helmet,” he grumbled as he put the helmet on his head and clipped it on. The young girl smiled as she handed him the skateboard.
“Okay, well, don’t come cryin’ to me when dad tells you should’ve worn the knee pads and the wrist splints.” she stated a matter of faculty as he placed the skateboard down. Luke playfully glared at the girl before getting on the board. “Do you even know how to ride a skateboard, Uncle Luke?” “I was skateboarding before you were even born, Twerp.” Luke glared at the girl before taking off, only to fall off and into the yard beside him. The girl smiled before walking over to him, a smirk growing on her lips.
“You sure about that, Twerp?” she looked down at him. Luke sat up and looked at the girl. “Good thing you wore the helmet.”
“Yeah, yeah good thing I wore the helmet,” Luke rolled his eyes as he pushed himself up. The girl grabbed her skateboard and looked back at Luke. “When you teach your dad how to skateboard, make sure you get it on video.”
“Obviously,” she stated with a laugh. “That’ll get a bunch of views.”
“You’re terrible. You know that? Does your dad know you’re this mean?” Luke raised an eyebrow as he looked down at the young girl. He wondered how a man with book smart knowledge like Spencer Reid had such a street smart daughter. They were total opposites. Luke just blamed it on her other parent. And all of her unofficial aunt and uncles were cooler.
“Food’s done!” David shouted before the girl could answer. She looked up at Luke with a smirk.
“I’ll let you play with it while I eat. Since you’re still wearing the helmet and all. I’ll leave my knee pads and wrist splints on here for you.” She smiled as she pulled the gear off and placed it on the ground. The girl smiled at Luke one last time before skipping off to get dinner.
{***}{***}{***}
The following day, Spencer went to the store, and returned, before his daughter even woke up. He bought himself a skateboard, a new helmet, and all the correct paddings and splints he knew he would need. If he was going to let his daughter teach him how to skateboard, he was going to need the proper protection. He wasn’t going to risk any sort of injury. And, if nothing worked out for him in the end, at least his daughter would have a brand new skateboard.
Spencer waited until his daughter woke up before he started messing with something out of his comfort zone. He knew his daughter would be more than excited to teach him how to skateboard. It’s secretly all she wanted to do for the last 3 months. And if Spencer had to be honest, he wanted it too. Just a little bit.
Spencer could hear the sounds of feet hitting the hardwood floor. He sat up and placed his book on the side table beside him. The footsteps went down the stairs, and then entered the living room.
“Oh! Mornin’, Dad!” the young girl smiled at Spencer. Spencer looked at her and nodded in her direction.
“Good morning, Peanut,” Spencer smiled before taking a sip of his coffee. His daughter looked at him with squinted eyes and cocked head.
“What’s going on?” she asked as she rested her fists on her hips. Spencer’s eyebrows inched up his forehead before he shrugged.
“What do you mean? Nothing’s going on.” Spencer sat up more and looked at his daughter.
“But you’re… talking in that weird tone… And you definitely only do that when somethings up.” She lifted her hands from hips and crossed them over her chest.
The thought of her parents getting a divorce came across her mind. But she knew her parents loved each other too much for that to happen. She knew better than to think that either of her parents would be dying too. All she knew was something was definitely off.
“Nothing’s wrong.”
“Cross your heart?”
“Hope to die,” Spencer spoke as he lifted a hand to rest over his chest. “How about you go get breakfast and get ready for the day… Then I’ll tell you what’s going on, okay?”
“So something is happening! I knew it!” she shouted as she pointed at her father. “How am I supposed to eat and get ready for the day when I know that something is happening?!” she clapped her hands together. “Is it a good thing or bad thing?”
Spencer stared at his daughter for a moment, and then he realized she was definitely his. He was also getting a taste of his own medicine as she rapidly began shooting out her questions and thoughts or theories.
“Is Uncle Luke and Aunt Penelope finally getting married?”
“What? No! They’re not.”
“Aunt JJ having another baby?”
“Peanut, go eat and get ready. Then I’ll tell you. But I promise you that it’s a good thing. Okay?” Spencer asked as he tried to keep his tone calm and steady. The girl grumbled a little before walking away.
She tried being quick, wanting to know what Spencer was up to. It wasn’t like him to keep secrets from his daughter. He was up to something, and it was her job to figure it out.
Once she was finished getting ready for the day, and shoveling cereal into her mouth, she went back into the living room. There, she found Spencer, still sitting on the couch, reading a book. However the only thing that changed was that sitting on the coffee table was all the gear he had gotten this morning.
“No way! A new skateboard!?” she exclaimed as she ran to the coffee table and fell to her knees. She picked up the board and looked at it with wide eyes.
“Yes that would be a new board. But it’s not for you.”
“What? Who it for then?”
“Me.”
“You don’t even know how to skateboard.” She stood back up and looked at her dad. Spencer closed his book and placed it on the side table.
“Well, Peanut, I was hoping you could teach me how to skateboard.”
“You want me… To t-teach you how to skateboard?” she stared at him with wide eyes. She had to hold back her laughter as she started imagining Spencer on a skateboard and inevitably falling to the ground. Then she thought back to her conversation with Luke the night before. She wasn’t going to miss the chance of recording the epic fails of Spencer falling off the skateboard.
“Well you always seem so excited about it! I want to experience and understand why you get so excited. And, if anything, if I don’t do good, or I don’t like it, you can have my skateboard.”
“You mean it?!”
“If I didn’t mean it, I wouldn’t have said it, Peanut.” Spencer smiled as he watched his daughter pick up the new skateboard.
“Can we do it now? Please!”
“Did you do your chores?”
“I’ll do them after!” she exclaimed as she hugged the board to her chest. Spencer looked at her with a raised brow. “Promise!”
“Alright, alright. We can practice for an hour okay?” Spencer stood and grabbed the rest of the gear.
“Sweet! I’m gonna go grab my stuff!” She shoved the board into Spencer’s hands before running outside.
Spencer eventually met his daughter outside, on the driveway. She could sense his nervousness and terror as she helped him with his stance. “When you’re ready to move, just bring your foot to the ground and kick off. Then when you want to turn, just lean your body in the direction you want to turn,” she explained as she got on her own skateboard.
“That… that seems easy enough,” Spencer whispered, his voice trembling as he spoke. His daughter looked at him with a smile. She was trying to hold back her laughter when she realized that his hair was sticking out weirdly from under his helmet.
“It’s not that hard, Dad. I don’t know why you’re so scared about it.”
“Well for starters, Peanut, you did break your wrist while skateboarding.”
“Yeah, but… I could’ve broken my wrist by just falling. It’s fun! Come on! If you fall we can try again," she smiled as she started riding around him.
Spencer laughed nervously before kicking off and riding down the driveway. He was doing good, he thought. That was until he went over a rock, throwing him off the skateboard and on to the grass.
“Are you okay?” The girl asked as she walked up to him. He looked up at her and nodded.
“Yeah, just startled.”
Although they agreed on an hour, the father and daughter were outside for a lot longer. Spencer was determined to get it right on the first day. He thoroughly enjoyed the time he spent with his daughter. He could see that she was getting frustrated with his little mistakes, which would end in him falling, but she still remained calm and helped through it.
“Dad… I mean this in the nicest way possible… But you’re bad. You’re not even on the way to getting good... You’re just straight up bad.” She watched as Spencer fell off the skateboard and into the grass for what seemed like the 100th time. He looked up at her from his spot on the ground.
“Yeah, yeah I know,” Spencer sighed as he stood up, “I don’t think I’m built for skateboarding.” He picked up the skateboard and looked down at it. “I might just leave the skateboarding to you, Peanut.”
The girl looked up at him with wide eyes as he offered her the new, nicer skateboard. “You don’t want to keep trying?”
“I think for today I’ve had enough practice. We can do it again another day. But, in the meantime, you can use my skateboard.”
“Really?”
“Do your chores first then you can use it all you want.” Spencer smiled as he handed her the skateboard. She looked down at the new item in her hands with wide eyes. Her old skateboard was no longer a thought in her mind.
“Right! On it!” she exclaimed before running back into the house.
Once Spencer was sure his daughter was inside the house, behind closed doors, he flipped over her old skateboard and stepped on it before doing a successful kick flip and riding it up the driveway. He was just pretending to not know how to ride a skateboard.
After all it was just easy geometry and physics.
if you want to be a part of a taglst or have any comments about this one shot, let me know here
taglist: @thebluetint @muffin-cup @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto​ @spencersmagic @babebenhardy​ @spenciegoob​ @reidspoet​​ @ash19871962​ @flipperpenguins​
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drakenology · 4 years ago
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I Hate Everything About You - Dabi
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warnings: ANGST, smut, daddy kink, mentions of rape,violence, AND swearing (cause im a potty mouth)
author’s note: this lil story is inspired by my favorite song I Hate Everything About You by Three Days Grace. im a lil emo bitch ok? I recommend listening to the song to get a better perspective of how the emotions of the lyrics and the story goes hand in hand. the chorus goes like “I hate everything about you. why do i love you?” and I immediately thought of something angsty and raw to write. hope yall enjoy! this one might be a little long.
summary: You and Dabi have worked together as villians for as long as you can remember but you two don’t get along at all. is this truly hatred or is this repressed feelings coming to surface?
You hated heroism. You viewed it as weak and meaningless. When both of your parents were murdered by an anonymous killer and no one came to their rescue when they could very well have been saved, something dark took over your spirit. You snapped. At the tender age of 17, your parents did not receive justice for the act of violence committed against them. The police told you there “wasn’t enough evidence” and that the killer had most likely killed himself.
There were simply too many holes in the case for it to be solved. Obviously this infuriated you. So much in fact that you planned to blow up the entire police precinct.
And you did.
Now being on the run at only 17 you fell into a life of crime, committing yourself to being a villain who killed police officers off duty earning yourself the villain name “Cop Killer” from the authorities. Not to mention your very dangerous quirk called “Leech”. You were able drain anyone you gazed at of their blood, the gaze having to be completely focused on the person’s eyes. Once concentrated enough it becomes hard for the person to look away from you. To trigger your quirk, you have to say the word “leech” in order to essentially stop the flow of someone’s blood to their heart; their blood being extracted from their veins to yours. The blood only made your quirk stronger as you can now manipulate it and use it in combat. You had enough control to where you could take a little or take it all. The stolen blood was also good for increasing your stamina and speed for a short period, manifesting a weapon with the blood you stole and of course leeching the person of their blood entirely, instantly killing them. The murders you committed granted you the number one spot of Japan’s wanted list. You were also the youngest assasin in Japan at the time so you had to move around a lot. You spent your teenage years living in abandoned buildings and sketchy motels; robbing, stealing and of course murdering for survival.
The day you met the League of Villains was your 23rd birthday. As a treat to yourself, you had cornered one of the dirtiest cops you had ever encountered. He was a known sex trafficker, a thief as well as a disgusting rapist. You had him right where you wanted him; wearing a disguise to hide your true visage in order to avoid being recognized. You had pretended to be a love interest to the cop, sitting in the seedy hotel room he rented to have a little “privacy” with you.
“Oh baby, you don’t know what you do to me. I wanna see that pretty little mouth of yours around my cock. Get on your knees for me.” The police man said, the sleazy bastard unbuckling his belt. You nod, secretly being disgusted by this man. But you had to keep your cool. You got down on your knees and took his hard cock into your hands and pumped, looking him directly in the eyes as you did so.
“Yeah, baby. You’re so hot.” He groaned, keeping his eyes locked on yours almost instinctively as sweat collected on his brow.
“Thanks.. but your time’s up, you sick fuck.” you say, standing up on your feet. You straddle him, watching the cop’s eyes become terrified as he finally realizes who you really are.
“Leech.” You say as you watched your quirk take effect. The reaction was instant as he starts to gasp and grab at his heart, clinging onto his last minutes of life as he died on the hotel bed. You moan as his blood is transferred into yours, creating a dagger out of his blood. You slice his neck, licking whatever was left off of his cold throat. You laugh, searching his dead body to take whatever he had on his person; money, personal possessions and his gun. Just as you’re about to get up and leave you get the feeling that you aren’t alone. You turn and see none other than the villain you had seen all over local news.
Shigaraki. 
He chuckles dryly, admiring your work at killing the cop underneath you.
“Well done, little girl.” He said, peering over your shoulder to get a good look at the mess you made of him. You go to ask how the hell he got into the room until you hear the sound of police sirens blaring outside. 
“We have the entire hotel surrounded. There are Heros on the way to assist us. Surrender now or face the consequences.” You hear the cops say on a megaphone.
“Shit.” You mumble, quickly grabbing your things; planning your escape in your head.
“Listen, I’ve admired your work since your attack on that police station, Cop Killer.” Shigaraki said. “We could use someone like you in the League of Villains. My friend Kurogiri here can get us both out of here in one piece. But only with your consent of course.”
You think for a moment. You’d rather make a smooth escape than risk being arrested. So you agree. 
“We’ll explain everything once we get back to base.” Kurogiri says, morphing himself through the cracks of the door. 
Kurogiri takes both you and Shigaraki and consumed you both into his portals, leading you to the secret hide-out of the League of Villains. You look around, your vision a little hazy from being in the dark portal. You see a few other people standing in the lobby. A guy with a weird mask on with two sides on it eagerly introduced himself as Twice. You see a cute girl that looked a little young to be in a place like this. 
“Toga Himiko. Nice to meet ya. Hey, you’re way prettier in person. The police drawing of you is really unflattering.” She says, waving at you. You smile meekly as you turn away to see this guy standing at the corner of the bar. He had burn scars all over his face and neck, dark hair and the most mysterious eyes you’ve ever seen. You met his gaze when you noticed him staring at you, sizing you up. You found his stare threatening and kind of alluring. You almost couldn’t look away. 
“Don’t stare at me for too long, Cop Killer. I know what those eyes can do.” He said sarcastically, not even caring to introduce himself. He felt familiar, like you’ve known him for a long time. You rolled your eyes and walked over to Shigaraki. 
“Look, if you think just because you got me out of a tight spot that I’m just gonna beg to work for you, you’re wrong. I work alone.” You said, adjusting the top of your outfit. 
“I know. But today that changes. You see, we’ve been watching you, Cop Kill-” He says, interrupted by your loud groan.
“My name is Y/N. Please just call me by my name. My mother didn’t name me Cop Killer.” You demand, folding your arms in protest. 
“But that’s what you are, Y/N. Don’t be ashamed.” Shigaraki says, inching closer to you. “Look, the services of the League of Villains aren’t free. We helped you. Now you help us. You understand don’t you, Y/N?” 
You sigh, wishing you had just leapt out of a nearby window back at the hotel instead of taking help from this creep. 
“Fine.” You say, looking down at your shoes. 
“Wonderful.” Shigaraki says, walking away from you. “Oh and one more thing. I hate back talkers.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A few months pass and you’re well acquainted with all the villains of the organization. You were all usually partnered up for missions; you always alternating between Toga and Dabi, who had finally told you his “name”. You grew to be pestered by Dabi. You’d much rather be paired up with Toga than Dabi any day since you and Dabi just could not get along, you both arguing like an old married couple at every mission. You couldn’t stand him. His cockiness, his elitist attitude, his aloofness. He hated you because of your attitude, you thinking you knew better than everyone else. He thought you were a spoiled brat who hasn’t done anything remarkable to even earn a spot in the League. To you, he was everything you despised about some men. 
One night you were all playing a friendly game of Blackjack; which seemed to be a ritual between the members. Shigaraki didn’t bother playing but Kurogiri always seemed to watch. 
“Ugh.. Fold. What do I have to do to get a decent fucking hand, huh?” Twice said, his two voices seeming to contrast in differing personality. You laugh, slamming down a perfect hand worth 21. 
“I stand, bitches.” You say, winning yet another round. 
“I’m bored.” Dabi says, standing up and leaving the table. 
“Oh don’t be like that, Dabi. Come back!” Toga says, throwing her cards down. She sighs and stands up from the table. “Well, I guess that’s it. I’m goin to bed. Nighty night, Y/N. Twice.” Everyone went their separate ways. You walk into your room and change into something more comfortable and walk outside to get some air. To your dismay, Dabi was already standing outside in the same spot you liked to chill and think. 
“Yo.” He says, referring to you. You roll your eyes and walk over to him. 
“What?” You say, annoyed to the point where you just want to turn around and go back inside. 
“Aw, what’s wrong, Cop Killer? Don’t like me?” He asks, inching closer to you to whisper in your ear. You stand still for a moment and lunge at him, grabbing his throat and pushing him against the wall. 
“Stop fucking testing me.” You say sternly, looking him deeply in the eyes with the intention to kill. 
“Careful, little girl. You might just turn me on.” He says, grabbing your arm and pushing you back. You freeze, stunned at the sudden harsh movement from the tall man in front of you. ”You’re 5′4′’, sweetheart. If I wanted to, I could end you without even using my quirk. You ‘oughta be nicer to me.” 
You get angrier by the second, yelling and screaming about how much you hate him all while trying to take jabs at him, throwing punches at his face. Dabi dodges every swing, smirking at your abilities. He was impressed, but he’d never tell you that. 
“Huh. Keep it up and you might actually hit me.” He teased, swinging back at you, landing right on your jaw. You stumble and collect yourself, charging towards him once more. You were certain you’d hit him, the blood from someone you’ve killed earlier that day increasing your speed. 
“Fuck you.” You hiss, taking another swing at him and connect, landing right on his cheek. He smirks, wiping blood from his mouth. You get cocky and go for another punch only for him to dodge you. He grabbed your arm and twisted it, pinning you against the brick wall in front of him with your back facing him. 
“When?” He asked in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You hated that he could so easily overpower you, making you despise him even more. He releases you from his grip and stands close to you; you feeling the warmth of his skin radiating from his body. 
“Listen. You hate me and quite frankly I can’t stand you either. But you don’t see me attacking you. Try it again and I won’t be so nice next time, little girl.” Dabi said, grabbing your face to daringly look into your poisonous eyes to mock your quirk. You focus, ready to end this asshole. Suddenly his lips crash into yours. At first, you’re disgusted and fucking pissed. But then you feel yourself start involuntarily melting into his kiss. So you kiss him back with no shame, all bitter feelings leaving your mind as the kiss gets more intense. You feel his hands groping and caressing your body, his hands exploring to stop at your neck; wrapping it around. You gasp, feeling yourself get hot. 
“The first time I saw you, I thought you were the hottest girl I’ve ever seen. And then you spoke. And I couldn’t stand you. But I couldn’t shake this feeling of wanting to bend you over and punish you for your slick mouth. You need a good hard dicking to keep your mouth shut and I’m the one to give it to you. That’s what you want too, isn’t it?” He asked, starting to kiss your neck harshly. You moan, embarrassed at his words. He was right. You found him attractive as soon as you saw him but his attitude rubbed you the wrong way. But right here and now, you realize that you might have been hiding your true feelings behind a façade of hatred. You wanted him too and you couldn’t stand it. 
“I’m talking to you, Y/N.” He persists, biting into your neck. You mewl, shocked at how good he was making you feel. You almost couldn’t believe you were in this situation. It was confusing but formalities could come later. You wanted him now. 
“Yes, Dabi. I wanted you to fuck me the first time I saw you.” You say quietly, feeling him reach under your shirt and bra to grab at your naked breast. You bit your lip, feeling slick pool between your legs as you fall victim to his touch. 
“Get inside and go in my room. I expect you to have nothing on when I get there. Understood?” He demands, pinching your nipple lightly. You gasp, nodding at his request. 
“Words. You’ve already made me angry with that stunt you pulled punching me in the face. I wouldn’t try me further.” He said, grabbing your hair and pulling it to expose more of your neck. You moan, unable to control yourself suddenly. It’s like he knew exactly what to do to turn you on. Fucking asshole.
“Y-Yes, daddy- I-I mean Dabi.” You flush. Damn. You couldn’t believe you let that slip. He laughs, kissing your lips once more as he lets you go. 
“Daddy works just fine.” Dabi says smirking, watching you stumble towards the door to go back inside. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You knew you should just go into your own room but, God you wanted to see what he’d do to you for almost punching him. You wondered how rough he’d be, your panties soaking at the thought as you gulp and open his room door. You sat on his bed and took off your clothes, leaving your underwear on to tease him. Suddenly his door opens and it’s him. He looked you up and down, loving what he saw. But to his dismay you had on too many clothes still. 
“I thought I told you to get naked, little girl.” Dabi said, pushing you onto his bed. He stood above you, running his fingers down your stomach and stopping at the waistband of your panties. You shudder at his cold fingers. 
“You never said naked.” You tease, looking back at him. He frowns, shaking his head. 
“Man, you just love pushing my buttons don’t you? You’re gonna regret teasing me so much.” He says, pulling your panties down roughly, holding them up to his face. He smirked at the wet spot he saw on them, throwing them onto the ground. “This is gonna be fun.”
You hiss as he slid one measly finger inside you while rubbing your bundle of nerves with his thumb, the single finger not being enough to satisfy your craving for that certain pleasurable stretch. Somehow though, Dabi was making you feel good with that one finger. You roll your hips for more friction only to have Dabi hold you down with his other hand. 
“Stop squirming so much. It makes you look desperate, doll.” He teased earning a whine from you. As if to be a little forgiving he adds another finger, watching your face twist up in pleasure. You were visually trying to hide your moans, Dabi not liking that at all. 
“Come on now. It’s no fun if you don’t scream for me. Let everyone here know how good I make you feel.” He said, halting his movements. You nod, moaning loudly as he adds a third finger. Any shame or embarrassment is gone as he worked you up to your first orgasm. You grab at his sheets, trying to move for more friction only to once more be overpowered by Dabi. 
“You don’t listen too well do you? I said stop squirming. You’ll have your fill but good girls wait to cum. Understand? I expect you to address me correctly this time.” He says, grabbing your face to make you look at him. Something about knowing you could kill him with your eyes turned him on, because he knew he could keep you from doing so. All he had to do was please you, knowing you won’t be able to focus on anything but screaming his name let alone his eyes. 
“Y-Yes daddy.” You mewl, your eyes rolling back as he pulled out one of your breasts, sucking on your nipple harshly. The sound of your moans was music to Dabi’s ears, the only thing he ever wanted to hear come out of your mouth. He cooed praises into your ear, telling you hot sexy you are and how et your pussy is just for him. He crawls on top of you, pulling his fingers out of you as you whine at the sudden loss. He kissed you, ripping your bra off. He sat up and stared at the gorgeous naked woman underneath him. 
“You’re so hot when you’re not talking shit.” He says, playing with your boobs. He was unsure of where to start. He wanted to please every inch of your lovely curves, his eyes drinking in your hips up to your beautiful breasts. He nearly drooled at the sight of them, your nipples seeming to perk up when he looked at them. You stare back at the man on top of you, his scars almost complimenting his skin as you watched him take off his shirt. You bit your lip as you feel a nice sized bulge grind up against your dripping core. You didn’t even notice that his pants were off, drooling at the sight of his body overpowering yours. He grinded up against you, leaning in close to your ear. 
“Ready to get fucked, sweetheart?” He asked, nibbling on your ear lobe. 
“Yes, god, yes!” You gasp, feeling him take off his boxers. He positioned his dick at your entrance, tapping it against you to tease you. You moan, going to grab his cock and shove it inside you but you think twice, already in trouble with him. Dabi smirks, excited to break you as he shoved himself inside you and started to rut his hips into you. You moan sinfully at the sudden stretch, loving how he filled you. You feel him speed up, not even fully adjusted to his length as you clawed at his back for dear life. 
“You’re takin me so well, doll.” He said, grabbing your neck to lightly choke you. Your eyes roll back as you reveal a sinful ahegao face while he pounds you senseless. You’re moaning his name and telling him how good he feels inside you, cussing and screaming into the air as you feel yourself coming close to cumming.
“C-Can I-?” You ask, unable to finish your sentence as you feel yourself clenching around him. Dabi is relentlessly prodding at your g-spot, causing you to see stars as he notices he’s hitting that special spot. He smirks and angles himself so that he’s repeatedly hitting that spot, watching you cover your mouth as you scream. He snatched your hand away from your mouth and pinned it above your head. 
“Tell me you’re sorry for punching me, kitten.” He demands, harshly pinching your nipples. You shake your head no to tease him. “No? Must need more convincing, huh brat?” He pulls out of you, you letting out a pathetic sob at the loss. He roughly flips you on your stomach and plants a hard smack on your ass. You yelp, your pussy aggravated as it throbs at the feeling of pleasure. He yanks you towards him and shoves himself back inside you, you laying flat on your stomach. You kick and scream under him, feeling him so deep it blinds you. 
“Oh my god, daddy!” You whine, shoving your face into your pillow as he assaults your g-spot. 
“Say it.” He demands, landing another hard smack on your ass this one sure to leave a mark. 
“I-I’m sorry! Fuck, I’m sorry!” You scream, desperate for release. 
“Good girl.” He hisses. Dabi grabs your hair and lifts your head off the pillow wanting to hear the last moans you can give before you cum. 
“Go ‘head and cum for me. You’ve earned it.” He says. And just like that you clench around him hard, your orgasm washing over your body as you cum all over his dick. He rides out your orgasm, only to continue pounding you earning a sharp yelp from you as you throw your head into the pillow again.
“You didn’t think it was over did you? That’s cute.” He said, taking you further. At this point you’re overstimulated, the pleasure almost painful as he worked you to another orgasm. 
“God, I love you!” You scream to his delight as you cum quicker than your mind can keep up. 
“I love you too. Even though you’re fucking annoying.” He hisses, unable to hold himself back anymore. He cums hot inside you, grunting as he slaps your ass one last time before pulling himself out. You moan softly, breathing heavily as he cleaned you up. He kissed up your body, you unable to move from being completely fucked out of your mind. 
“When you socked me, I knew you were a keeper.” He laughed. 
“Shut up.” You say, smiling into your pillow. 
“HEY, YOU TWO DONE IN THERE? YOU COULD HAVE WOKEN UP THE ENITRE CITY WITH ALL THAT RACKET!” Twice shouted through the walls, turning your face red with shame. 
“SHUT UP AND MIND YOUR FUCKING BUSINESS!” Dabi yelled back, rubbing soft circles on your ass to soothe his harsh marks on both cheeks. 
bitch i.. i’m sick. 
453 notes · View notes
kojinnie · 4 years ago
Text
Something About Pain | Reiner Braun
Pairing: Reiner Braun x Reader (she/her pronoun)
Summary: You ran away from home and your boyfriend Reiner Braun is desperate to bring you home. When the two of you meet, you share a conversation about how pain inflicts the two of you differently.
Tags & Warning: Angst, (eventual) fluff, (mild) hurt/comfort, slow burn, major miscommunication problem, past trauma, abandonment issue, mention of anxiety, Reiner is a grumpy, hurt individual yet delicate inside | SFW
Word Count: 4.5K
A/N: Based on the request by @okubean for Twisted Match-Up! I hope you like it, boo! (More A/N at the end of the fic)
.::My Masterlist::.
Twisted Match-Up (x Reader): Zeke | Hange | Jean 
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There was a vivid look of worry on the face of Reiner Braun as he drove through the empty neighborhood streets. His right hand on the steering wheel, the other one tapping anxiously on the phone, dialing the same number over and over again to no avail.
All of his calls had gone straight to your mailbox, and his text messages were no longer delivered. Reiner came to realize that you've blocked him. "Idiot," he muttered to himself, cursing this whole modern affinity to accommodate people running from their problems easier. Reiner thought the feature was the stupidest thing ever created by humankind, he was pissed, but more annoyed. He realized how tired he was, and if he could, he'd rather be in bed right now. Not roaming your friend's neighborhood at ungodly hour.
"Where... the fuck... are you..." he was pissed, evident from the grunt as he tried one final desperate attempt to call you. It went straight to your mailbox. Your cheery voice didn't make him feel any better, if any, Reiner wished he could tell the mailbox-you to shut the hell up.
Reiner finally hit the brake, sighing annoyed. His black SUV stopped underneath the streetlamp, at a random neighborhood he could only vaguely remember. He had been here before, when he picked you up from your bestfriend's house after one of your "night out" with your friends from college, but he could barely remember which one of these identical suburban houses did she live.
He rested his forehead on the steering wheel, racking his brain trying to remember the house number. Is this even the correct cul-de-sac? There are tens others. Who the fuck came up with the concept of suburban housing? Strips and strips of uniformed houses. And even worse, who the fuck thought that it was such a great idea to live in one? Like some Stepford Wives nightmare. Reiner couldn't believe some people would save up money for all their lives to pay off their mortgage to live in complete conformity, like a communist utopia with capitalist credit system. Were these people right in the head or had their brains fucked over by the boring 9 to 5 jobs they've had for decades?
That's beside the point. Reiner sighed. He ranted a lot when frustrated.
He knew you'd be there, in one of these houses, curled up crying in your bestfriend's bed, perhaps pouring your heart out on how much of a bad boyfriend Reiner was. He knew because you've passed the micro-aggression millionth times, muttering under your breath, saying that you'd be fine if Reiner kicks you out because your bestfriend would take you. What kind of fuckery was all that? Why would he ever kick you out? Reiner thought. He was clueless. Why were you so adamant that he would leave you eventually? Reiner could feel his annoyance grew while reminiscing your antics. He began to think, maybe he had never understood you to begin with.
But Reiner was wrong, because he was right about a lot of things about you. You were exactly in your bestfriend's house, curled up in her bed, ranting how hard it was being with Reiner. Although the tears had dried since hours ago. You were in your PJs and drinking the hot coco your friend had made you, comfortable in the bliss of obliviousness upon the fact that your boyfriend of one year was now driving aimlessly trying to locate your position. You were adamant that he was going to leave you anyway, you thought he wouldn't exert an ounce of energy trying to plea you home.
It was 4 AM in the morning and you hadn't come home. The trace of you had gone completely from Reiner's apartment since early morning. Reiner knew that this was bound to happen, had he done anything differently - would you stay? He thought of you and the state that the two of you had been tangled in. All the unresolved tension, or the persistent insinuations coming from you that you always shrugged off in the end, saying "Nothing." as if it did not matter, each time Reiner shot them with, "What did you say?"
You sipped your hot coco and let a troubled whimper as you told your bestfriend what was happening. It's the culmination of small things, your feeling of inadequacy and the anxiety of waking up every morning, being convinced that each day would be the day that Reiner finally leaves you. Every day you’d be mentally preparing yourself for the ultimate fate until Reiner returns home with his big, warm hug until your anxiety caves in. And that the anxiety would appear again in the next morning.
The idea of him leaving became incessant and you could never bug it off. You wondered why, maybe because you believed that you were inherently flawed. Maybe it's the way Reiner made that small "Tsk," when he came home to see the garbage piled up, "Babe, didn't I tell you to put out the garbage?"; or the deep, annoyed and condescending sighs he made when he missed his favorite show because you forgot to pay the cable bills while he was out at the office.
Maybe it's the way you couldn't match his sharp memory and reliability with you constantly forgetting things and your seeming inattentiveness despite the abundant reminders, notes and alarms you've made to keep yourself alerted. At times, your mind just wandered, and you needed him to rope you back in, but he never got the gist.
So, you were adamant that you had grown to be nothing but inconvenience for him, hence when he spent the night over at his office due to what he called "Shit load of work" over the phone, you were certain he wouldn't come back at all. You knew that the pain of being abandoned would haunt you to myriad of miseries, so you'd rather leave first. You knew it would be the end you both needed, because you knew Reiner did not care about you enough to tolerate your shit any longer. He was always quiet, there was hardly ever any expression on his face, God knows what he was thinking underneath. Each of your "Reiner, I'm sorry." would only be met by a singular hum or a quick, "It's okay." that left you wondering, did he ever mean it at all?
So that morning you left. While he was still at the office, because you knew there was no feelings strong enough for Reiner to keep him from leaving you eventually. You left first.
Your bestfriend nodded in reassurance, "You gotta do what you gotta do." she said pulling you into a warmly hug, but your attention was suddenly caught by the pile of plastics and packages from your take-outs at the corner of your friend's room. It just bothered your mind, and you got up to take it out. A small token of atonement to what you wish you had done to Reiner.
Your bestfriend immediately scrambled and took the garbage away from you. Insisting for you to stay in bed and let her take care of it. You nodded and retreated to the pillow fortress. You felt bad for her because the temperature was dropping, and there was no necessity to take the garbage out right now, but your impulse was often hard to subside, and your friend had grown to acknowledge and take sympathy over that. Unlike Reiner, you thought.
Maybe it's because Reiner never shown anyone openly about what he felt, but what you did not know, sometimes he wish he had. Sometimes he wished he'd opened up about how hard it is for him to breathe when unfortunate things occur that he did not have the answer to. Sometime he wished he could share his fear, worry, anger and disappointment, but he was always thought that a man got to suck it up, and perseverance was the only way he knew how to survive.
Sometimes he wished he had told somebody that the constant worrying about his loved ones consumed him too, to the point it became hard for him to let his guard down even when things are okay. He was always on alert, and sometimes it got exhausting too for him. He wished he had told all that, so in times like these he did not have to assume the heartbreak alone while trying to find the solution to it. Sometimes he wished people knew that he cared too, he loved too, he knew too when someone he loved was struggling, but he never learned how to show it. Reiner knew your mind often raced hundreds of miles per hour, Reiner knew your state of agitation, but he never had anyone to teach him how affection should look like, other than be of service, which he tried his best at being. It was no wonder that Reiner was left clueless when you chose to leave without warning.
He was pissed because he knew how daft he was, yet none of it was ever intentional. He cursed himself for not knowing what went wrong, for not being more observant, for not being open with his feelings, for not telling you how much he had grown to love you and how much his apartment immediately grew cold at your absence. But mostly, at this moment, he cursed himself because he wasn't attentive enough to know you friend's house number.
The air was crisp when your bestfriend stepped out of her porch. She made quick steps to the garbage can when she saw bright headlights coming in from the end of the street. She grunted, wondering what was her neighbor doing, cruising around with dramatically low speed. It seemed odd.
She put her fingers above her eyes, trying to recognize the plate number or the driver, but the black SUV lights were dispersing her sight.
She closed the garbage can and tried to immediately return inside but the car cruised closer and pulled over in front of her. The window rolled open.
"Hey," There was an immediate look of surprise from the person that Reiner barely recognized. But he was sure enough that it was her, judging from her body language; all tensed and alerted, "This is Reiner."
For a moment, there was an awkward silence between Reiner and your bestfriend. She was considering carefully on what to say next.
"Uhm yeah, I know." Your bestfriend finally spoke, her voice creaked, caught by surprise. "What do you want?"
Reiner spoke your name, "I want to meet my girlfriend." Reiner could hear the desperation in his own voice, but your friend jeered in response.
"My girlfriend." she passingly mocked the way Reiner spoke, she came to dislike what she thought was possessiveness in Reiner's nature of speaking, "She's not available. I suggest you to scram. Before my neighbors complain."
Reiner furrowed his brows in dismay, couldn't seem to understand the hostility presented by your friend, "I need to talk to her."
She stood unyielding. Reiner opened the door and climbed off of the car, sighing as he walked closer, propelling your friend to keep her distance away even further. "Please, let me talk to her."
"Not a chance." She turned around and scurried back into the house. Reiner was quick to yell, to her expected dismissal. Without thinking further, Reiner got back to behind the wheel and moved his car forward on to the curb, proceeding to close off the exit way for her small city car in the driveway.
Reiner jumped off the car as your besfriend realized what he had done, "I'm not moving the car until she comes down."
She let out a restraint shrieked, "What the fuck?! I got a dentist appointment tomorrow morning!"
"Then please, tell her to come down and talk to me," Reiner said, sounding almost apologetic. He threw a glance at a lonely swing set in the small park across the street, "there."
The occurrence happening before your eyes was unexpected to say the least. You closed the small slit from your bestfriend's window fold, trying to manage your heartbeat that had become almost deafening. At the same time your bestfriend appeared from the door, face red with flustered, "I think he really wants to see you."
Thousands of thoughts made a commotion in your head. It did not make any sense. You made it easier for Reiner by walking away with clean slate, you were sure this was what he had hoped secretly.
Your friend shuffled inside and shot you a deep stare, she sighed heavily and told you that whether you liked it or not, you had to face him. Reiner looked genuinely worried, she said, twisting your guts even further.
You sat in her bed for a moment, trying to relive every waking moment with Reiner. Sure there were moments when your own thoughts chased you into a deep corner and you wished Reiner had seen it. Sometimes you wished he’d hold you tight, kiss you with reassurance and told you how meaningful you were to him. Sure, sometimes being with Reiner could feel lonely, but he had never treated you back nor was he ever intentionally mean to you. What do I want? The question hung heavy in your mind.
I want him to say that he wants me, the voice within the nook of your brain said, I want him to say that he loves me.
You nodded, finally ceasing from running away further.
             Reiner never thought that at his 20-something he would sit miserably on a random swing-set at a random neighborhood just an hour before the dusk cracked. Reiner was a big man, but even with his figure and the aid of his tailored suit and shirt, wrinkled after gruesome hours at work trying to keep his company afloat on the thin ice of his personal relationship with you – Reiner was tired, and miserable, and desperate. Even more, he was cold as the temperature continued to drop down.
He hung his head low, trying to fight the shivers. It was quiet, too quiet, only the faint sound of the wind and the creaking sound of the swing-set holding off to its dear life under Reiner’s massive weight. The man sighed, never he thought that the sight of you coming out of someone’s house in the dead of a  night would be a spectacle he looked forward to the most.
He closed his eyes, shutting himself off from any sound and thought. Thinking that maybe in the bleakness of his sense, the time would pass faster and your heart would soften.
In the nothingness Reiner could feel a sudden warmth crept from the tips of his fingers, he opened his eyes to see you standing before his eyes, towering him who was sitting like a pathetic boy on the swing. You were wrapped in a fluffy bathrobe, hiding your PJs underneath. In your hands were two cups of scalding tea, you shoved one into his hand, “You came.” You stated.
Reiner let out a deep sigh of relief as he saw you safe and sound. He felt warmth travelled across his body, he did not know whether it was the tea in his hand or simply the sight of you that made him felt so. His eyes latched on to you as you sat on the swing next to him, “Hey. What are you doing?” Reiner asked.
“Running away.”
“Why?”
Reiner looked at you intently, and the guilt started to consume you. You gazed afar, softly shook your head, “Dunno.”
“I see.”
Yet another silence ensued.
“How’s work?”
Reiner sighed again; the heavy breath seemed to be the only way the two of you communicated. Just two troubled minds pouring their burden at each other, “Bertholdt abruptly resigned—fuck, it’s been a nightmare, but—” Reiner pressured his thumb over his brows, trying to ease his sharp migraine that suddenly came, “—that doesn’t matter now. Will you come home?”
He looked at you again, you were still gazing to god-knows-what, everything other than his eyes. Reiner grew antsy on his seat, the swing creaked again. Please look at me. Please look at me. The words resonated incessantly in Reiner’s head but nothing came out of his mouth. Just a stoic, to-the-point question.
Don’t you wanna know the problem, Reiner? Is that all? I said I don’t know and you didn’t even try to dig in deeper? You came all the way here and you just straight up asking me to go home with you? Your mind was nowhere better. It’s in uproar but there was only silence coming out of your mouth. But he came, he didn’t leave. Contradiction danced inside your mind like an unwanted guest.
The silence grew heavier. You saw the lights from your bestfriend’s bedroom lit off, she had got to be tired eventually. Suddenly, you felt so alone. Just the two of you in this odd morning.
“It’s hard, right?” Reiner broke the silence, he looked at you again, this time he was desperate for you to look into his eyes. Little did he know, you were refusing to do so because you could feel your fragility forming in your eyes. You swore not to cry.
“What?” Just a depthless answer you uttered.
“Growing up.” Reiner muttered. The man sounded almost contemplative in his defeat. He sighed again and shook his head, “I thought I’d be someone better by this time in my life.”
The answer surprised you. You thought he would say something like ‘Relationship is hard’ or some jargons he picked up from one of the movies he watched without you. You felt bad for undermining him just because you were upset with him. Does it really mirror your true perception of him? Maybe you really hadn’t known him that well.
You had no resolve to his statement, so you just nodded, allowing him to pour out his thoughts.
“I thought I’d be better with my job, with myself, and most importantly,” he shifted to lurch towards you on his seat, the wire strings of the swing twisted to your direction, “with the people I love. But obviously, I still… suck.”
“And here I am. 4 AM. A fucking adult on a fucking neighborhood swing-set.”
You could feel the air suctioned out of your lungs, as you felt guilt loomed bigger inside you. He came and he felt bad – what more could I ask for? But then you remembered the nights of loneliness despite having Reiner sleeping next to you. You had a bad day, but you were too prideful to come clean. You wanted him to be intuitive, but he never did. Being with Reiner, you had mastered the art of crying in silence while sharing the bed with him. It’s exhausting. Yeah, Rei, maybe you’re bad at this.
Despite that, you stayed silent.
“Will you hate me if I say I don’t know what’s wrong?” Reiner knew how daft he sounded, “God. I’m pushing my luck coming clean at you.”
You were at loss for words. You had so many things to say, but too few of a courage.
Reiner called your name. He reached over and tried to tangle one of your fingers with his. From your periphery sight, you could see him forcing a smile, “I—”
He sighed again. Reiner’s chest was filled with words and all he wanted was to vomit it out, but he never knew how to properly addressed the feelings he had—he couldn’t even describe what he felt. All he knew was one thing: he wanted you home, back in his arms, “I am a stupid man. I really don’t know what’s happening between us. You.. just.. gone. Please, just tell me what’s wrong. I’m not smart enough for all these..”
There was almost a childish plea in Reiner’s words, and you couldn’t help but to threw a faint smile. You chuckled, “What did you say? You’re—what?”
He scoffed at himself, “I am stupid.”
You finally caved in because you realized there was an undeniable genuineness in the way he spoke. And the sentiment was mutual, you felt stupid as well for you had not realized how completely, utterly, truly clueless Reiner was.
Eventually, you looked at him. His hardened face quickly turned wary to finally see how puffy your eyes were from crying earlier, you forced a smile, but it was clear you were pretending, “You make me feel so lonely sometimes.”
The words came out of your mouth like a canonball that had been stuck in your chest for too long. You felt relief, but on the other side, Reiner could feel his heart broke. A pain from a man realizing too late of the damage he had caused.
You thought of everything that had made you feel so. The way Reiner rolled over in bed away from you, drowsy and unaware, when you called him in the dead night as your anxiety kicked in; when his hand let you go as you tried to hold his hands in public; the complete non-existing mention of you in his social media; the take-outs that he mindlessly brought home when you had cooked dinner; his easiness in dropping a problem after he said sorry without checking up with you further.
It was the absent of his intuition that made you felt invisible – but you realized too late that maybe he was truly oblivious, evident as he said, “But how?”
“You really don’t know?”
“Babe,” he further tangled your fingers into his grasp. Your hand and his, they hung in the middle of the two swing seats, “I swear on my mother’s grave.”
“I’ve always thought you wanted to leave me but never got the right moment to it. The affection—I hardly ever got it from you. Not the affirming words, not the reassurance. Hell, maybe I want that public kiss and hugs that you thought was stupid, Rei. Just—”
You could feel the tears forming, choking you mercilessly, “—just to feel loved. To feel wanted. For once.”
You finally let your tears dropped. And Reiner was slapped with realities that both of you were in. He let go of your hand and stared down at the pavement, “I’m sorry. I never knew.”
“You never asked.”
“But I never knew. How am I supposed to know that I should ask when I didn’t know I should ask on the first place? I’ve always thought you wanted to be left alone when all your crazy thoughts come in—but you—”
“—you—"
Reiner groaned, obviously frustrated. He rested the blabber, “Maybe we’re just not good at this.”
Like a train, you could feel the ending coming to hit you. This is it. This is it. You thought to yourself, picturing how Reiner would finally leave you. You secretly wished Reiner wouldn’t give in, you wish he’d put up more fight, so at least you’d know that you carried a weight in his heart. But you knew this was bound to happen, so why were you so upset?
“Maybe.” You wiped your tears dry, “That’s okay, Reiner. I know that’s what I am.”
“What?”
“I’m just an embarkation point, right? Everyone will leave me eventually. That’s why I left, because I know eventually, we’ll be talking about this. So I’d better leave first.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Reiner grew even more frustrated with the way you danced around your words.
“It’s okay if you want to leave me. That’s what all people do to me.”
“You left because you think I was planning to leave you all along?” Reiner asked, sounding painfully offended as he finally got to gather what you were insinuating, “So that is the problem?”
“Yeah, so I better leave first, right? Before I get hurt again? Before you leave me like other people and—”
“Fuck other people!” Reiner raised his voice, which he immediately regretted. He ran his fingers over his hair irritated, turning it into a complete blond mess, “Are you trying to avenge your revenge for other people—those exes you’ve had—on me?”
Tears welled up again in your eyes, as you looked away from him. But he called on your name again, this time there was a deep sternness in his call that you couldn’t help but to face him. Reiner was glad that you finally gained courage to speak the truth, when he had not, “So you want reassurance, yeah? How about the times I told you how beautiful, how smart, how great you are – only for you to tell yourself the opposite immediately.”
Reiner looked directly into your eyes, “I can’t make you something you’re not. What you are is who you think you are.”
“You can never matter – if you don’t think you do.”
An expressionless, soundless tear fell onto your cheek. A heart broke to your dismay. Reiner finally said the truth and there was no way you could delude yourself into thinking that he was wrong, “Then… why don’t you just leave me, Rei? Why don’t you get rid of me a long time ago?”
“Because I’m giving you something that I never received in my entire life, ever. I’m staying for you.” There was a palpable pain in the way Reiner spoke. He landed his finger on to your heart and you could feel it pierced through your skin with heavy realization, “I’m staying. Like no one ever did in my life. Not my ex-girlfriends, not my friends, and certainly not my father. That’s what makes us different. I have more faith in you than you have in me.”
Reiner was a man with heavy heart. He had been through a lot of things in his life, learned how to fend on for himself since very young, and dreamed of the day when he could finally put his hair down with someone he cared for. And what you hadn’t realize, was how essentially similar you were to him. How both of you longed for someone to let go of your inhibitions and fear? Just two broken people finding refuge in each other’s longing for the same thing. And that’s what you failed to see. He understood you, just in a way you didn’t understand.
And that’s the thing about pain, they are inherently personal. No matter how much you have shared yourself to others.
The two of you went dead silent for a moment. In the horizon, the sun rays were starting to emerge, the morning had arrived.  Your tears cascaded painfully slow; Reiner was looking at his feet trying to sip his tea that had gone cold. His hands were trembling with both sadness and anger that were beginning to secede.
Reiner finally called your name, this time it was delicate, “I’m sorry, alright?”
You looked at him with tears in your eyes as you nodded, “Alright.”
“Will you come home, now?”
“Yes,” you muttered, “I think I will.”
The two of you got up and Reiner immediately drew you into his chest, holding you the tightest you had ever been held, reconnecting all the broken pieces scattered inside you. You buried your face into his strong chest as you sobbed once more, while he kissed the top of your head with affection more vivid than thousands of words of affirmations.
“What do we do with these hearts, Rei?” You asked as you felt your chest throbbing with pain and love.
The man loosened his embrace and smiled, “Persevere.”
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A/N:
First of all thank you so much to @okubean for giving me a hellish prompt! This one really made me faced my own abandonment issue and poured it into a writing. I tried to touch about the absent-mindedness as the implication of ADHD but I’m really worried that it doesn’t really do it justice. So hereby my sincere apologies! 😭🙏
Nonetheless, I really hope that you may enjoy this piece and I’m so sorry if it comes off as boring!
I literally drafted this on the metro, and got really carried away with it!
Did I enjoy it? (Yes)
Did this turn out longer than I expected? (Yes)
Am I worried this will bore people? (Yes)
231 notes · View notes
andromedasstarship · 4 years ago
Text
in the stars - chapter 3
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photo credit - unknown 
pairing - aaron hotchner x reader
warnings - canon-typical criminal minds violence, stalking, depictions of murder/violence, angst, verbal fighting, drinking, unhealthy coping mechanisms, smoking (cigarettes) 
summary -  “If you’re upset over how I ended our relationship, that is completely separate from the dealings of the case and I expect you to be able to conduct yourself appropriately.” Aaron said and you thought this was what ‘seeing red’ meant
a/n - hi besties! im so sorry this update took so long! i really wanted to make it perfect and was struggling with putting this together. to make it up this chapter is a whopping 5.9k words so uh enjoy lol!
masterlist // series masterlist // read it on ao3
chapter 2 // chapter 4
-----
You had to physically stop yourself- gripping the desk chair beside you so hard your knuckles turned white- from following Aaron out the office door and demanding he make sense of the whole good cop- ha!- bad cop show he’d been putting on since the two of you had been horribly reunited outside of the police station. 
This had been the second instance of him implying or accusing you of somehow worsening the case. And he hadn’t even been in LA for over 24hrs. It wasn’t fair, you thought, angrily grumbling to yourself about all the different ways you’d love to give him a piece of your mind. If he’d been a regular man, that you’d never met before, you probably wouldn’t consider his current behavior to be so- out of pocket? disgraceful? insulting?- offensive. You knew he had a reputation for being...,a hardass on the job, but that didn’t mean he had to go overboard in his treatment towards you. Maybe he wasn’t going overboard, maybe this was just how he treated every- you weren’t sure exactly how to define yourself in the case- witness? Maybe this is just what his team expected in terms of his behavior towards people he didn’t know.
But he did know you, he knew you quite well. He knew you well enough to know you’d never purposely attempt to slow the case down. Even without his fancy profiler skills, you were certain Aaron Hotchner knew every little thing about you. Or at least he used to. 
And while Aaron may know everything there was to know about you, you were beginning to doubt if you actually knew anything about him. As expected, over the past two months the case had been taking an extreme toll on you; constantly looking over your shoulder and worrying that someone was lurking behind every corner. What made it worse, was that it was yet another situation that required you to keep a secret. You ‘had’ the officers at the station and your agent, but besides them you were dealing with this completely on your own. Making the situation about yourself felt wrong, but you couldn’t even begin to explain how hurt you felt at Aaron's accusations that you were somehow more part of the problem than you were a victim. Yes, you hadn’t gone up to him and explicitly told him how badly you were hurting, but it’s not like it took a genius- or a profiler- to reach that conclusion themselves. 
It hurt, to have someone whose validation you had once- still did- crave so much, suddenly act as if you were a ‘bad guy’. Maybe you were being dramatic, you thought. Maybe you were overreacting and reading far too deep into such short interactions. On the other hand, you reasoned that it was perfectly acceptable to have feelings. Before you could delve deeper into that mental tirade, a sharp knock on the doorframe grabbed your attention. Looking up, you saw JJ leaning halfway into the room. 
“Sorry,” you said, awkwardly letting go of the chair, “I uh, got caught up with uh, just you know, thoughts about the case!” Smooth. You tried to put a cheery tone in your voice. You tried to subtly study her reaction as you walked over to her and it was clear she wasn’t exactly buying into your sudden happy attitude. She didn’t press you though, something you were grateful for. Instead she just moved out of the doorframe, letting you join her in the hallway. 
“The rest of the team has split up already, would you like to start in the basement?” JJ asked. You had only spoken to her a couple times, briefly at that, but you already found great comfort in her presence; you could see why she held the position, her ability to comfort and connect with others was unbeatable. Definitely need to send JJ a case of wine as a gift. 
You nodded dumbly, joining her in the hallway and taking her down towards your basement. Internally, you guessed the little ‘tour’ would only take an hour tops, considering all the little spiels you’d have to give about each room. 
You felt a bit like when you went through airport security or when a police car was on a road you were driving on. That sinking feeling that somehow you were going to get in trouble even though you knew you didn’t have anything to hide. Damn Aaron. His apparent lowly opinion of you was definitely messing with your head. Oh well. 
As you lead JJ towards the basement, you could vaguely hear the other agents throughout the house. A door opening here or the sound of papers rustling over there. You hadn’t exactly asked how they would be able to tell if something was missing or out of place. But honestly? You didn’t really care what the team did in your house, as long as they figured out how the unsub had gotten in there. 
You’d already come to terms with the fact that the unsub had managed to steal your clothes and jewelry, but you just couldn’t shake the fact that he had gotten into your house. Part of you secretly wished he had pick-pocketed you on a busy street or was stealing stuff off a film set instead. It would’ve been equally as bad and creepy and horrifying, but it would’ve been worth still feeling safe in your own house. 
Smacking the lightswitch on the wall behind you, the entire basement became illuminated. “So,” you started, really drawing out the word, “this is the basement. It’s technically one big open floor, but well,” you gestured lazily with your hand, “you can see it’s kinda still split up. There’s a movie room behind those doors right there.” 
JJ stepped ahead of you, walking towards the high windows in the basement. You watched as she ran her fingers along the window edges, carefully going over each one. “Do these open?” She asked, turning back to look at you. 
You quickly shook your head. “They’re mostly just for, like, decoration purposes.” You responded, giving a slight shrug. “I um, I’m not down here much unless I’m having people over. And those stairs we came down are the only way to get in here.” You added, thinking that’d probably be helpful. 
JJ gave you that nice smile again and started towards the movie room. “I’m just gonna look in here real quick and then we can go back upstairs, okay?” 
You stood awkwardly at the bottom of the stairs, rolling back and forth from your heels to your tippy toes, awkwardly playing with your hands in front of yourself. You knew her movie room scan wouldn’t take wrong, there were zero windows in there and no other point of entry besides the door she had walked through. 
Just as you expected, JJ came back out no longer than five minutes later. Once she got closer to you, you turned slowly on your heel and started back up the stairs. “We can start upstairs and then meet the rest of your team on the main level?” You offered.
“Lead the way.” 
“There’s um, two ways to get upstairs. There’s that main staircase you saw in the foyer and also there’s a ‘servants stair’ in the back,” you said, making air quotes with your fingers at the ‘servants stair’ part, “I have people that work in the house sometimes, but it’s not an actual designated staircase for anyone.” You explained, unsure of why you were feeling so anxious. 
“Why don’t we go up using the second set of stairs? Since I’ve already seen the main set.” JJ said. 
You nodded dumbly again, and walked in the direction of the back stairs. Once upstairs, you gave the same room spiel to JJ about six times. This is ‘x’ room, yep those windows can open, nope no one regularly comes into this room, yes the balcony doors do lock from the inside. 
Just as you thought earlier, the little tour took just a couple minutes under an hour. You and JJ were standing in your kitchen, both of you leaning against opposite countertops. According to JJ the whole team had agreed to meet up in your kitchen once they were done with their scans, so it seemed that you two were the first to finish. Also expected. 
You were lucky you hadn’t run into Aaron the entire time. At times you could vaguely hear his voice coming from another room and all that did was pull on your heartstrings and remind you of when the two of you were together. Aside from the sadness factor, you still weren’t sure you could trust yourself to not yell at him as soon as you saw him again. 
“That’s funny.” JJ said amusedly-more to herself than to you-, pulling you out of your thoughts. 
“What is?” You asked. She had moved from her spot by the countertops, to standing in front of your liquor wall, staring up at a bottle you couldn’t quite recognize from your position. 
“Oh, just Agent Hotchner? Out there,” she said, gesturing broadly out to where the rest of the team might be, “he loves this brand of scotch. We joke sometimes that he’d pick it over us if he was given the choice. But apparently it’s super difficult to get. He started getting lucky a few years ago and found a way to buy it, but recently I guess that luck ran out and he hasn’t been able to find it anymore.” 
Your eyes went wide at that. Yes. That scotch was super difficult to get and it was ridiculously expensive. And yes, Aaron loved the stuff. The two of you used to constantly argue over money. He hated that you were always the one paying for everything and had created a ‘rule’ that you weren’t allowed to buy him any gifts. Of course, you managed to find a way around that rule and found that this specific scotch was his gift achilles heel. So, you used to send him a steady supply while also keeping a bottle at your place for the rare occasions he was over. 
“Oh?” You squeaked. 
“Yeah, it’s super rare or something. They only make so many batches a year don’t they?” JJ asked, turning back to look at you. 
You quickly pulled your emotions in when she turned towards you, just giving her your third dumb nod of the day. “Yep, super hard to get. Super super hard. I uh, got as a gift once, I don’t even like the stuff.” 
“You should tell Hotch. I bet he’d pay pretty well for it.” She said with a laugh, shaking her head. Definitely will not be doing that. 
----
Upstairs, Rossi and Hotch were looking through your upstairs office. While your downstairs office was more work based- you stored scripts and had meetings down there, etc.-, your upstairs office was used for your more ‘personal’ work tasks. 
“If the unsub is taking her clothes, we might have better success scoping out her closet. See the potential entry and exit points from her room that the unsub must be taking.” Rossi proposed. 
Hotch nodded at that, putting down the stack of fan mail he’d been flipping through, trying to find any repeats or ‘creepy’ letters. He made a mental note to have Reid come and read through the piles of other mail you had neatly stacked around the room.
Your attention to fanmail had been one of the things that had quickened the process of him falling in love with you. He had had his doubts in the beginning of you relationship- he had stereotyped you for sure-, your age and status giving him somewhat valid concerns that you’d be insanely disconnected from the normal world. You’d proved him wrong in many ways since the beginning, but one of those ways had been the many days you’d call him from this room, reading through every single letter you were sent and always making sure to send a small note back. 
“Good idea, let’s go.” Hotch said. He walked out of office and didn’t think twice, his body automatically walking towards the room a few doors down from your bedroom. You didn’t keep your closet in your bedroom, you had actually put a little couch and sitting room in your bedroom closet space. Instead you’d taken an entire guest room and converted it into a full dressing room/closet that was a better fit for your needs. 
As Hotch went straight into the room, he missed the narrow look Rossi was giving him from the doorframe. It only took a couple minutes, but eventually Hotch looked up, cocking an eyebrow at Rossi. “Are you going to come in?” He questioned. 
“You knew her closet wasn’t in her room.” Rossi noted, amusement clear in his voice. 
Hotch’s face paled, before he steeled his emotions back over. “I saw the clothes while walking past earlier and made the deduction.” 
“She’s pretty, isn’t she Aaron?” Rossi teased, clearly finding a lot of enjoyment in this conversation. 
“Dave,” Hotch groaned, running a hand over his face, “just, not now okay?” He asked, the desperation clear in his voice. 
Rossi certainly didn’t have the entire story figured out, but he wasn’t dumb either, he could piece things together. As much as he’d love to keep busting Hotch over this, there was something about how gentle he had been with you in the conference room and his current clear discomfort that persuaded Rossi otherwise. Rossi grinned at Hotch and raised his hands in mock surrender. 
“So, we know the unsub doesn’t have to necessarily be quiet, her room is at least what, 3-”
“Four and across the hall.” Hotch huffed out, not looking up to meet Rossi’s eyes.
“Four and across the hall away. So he doesn’t need to sneak past her if he’s coming in at night...” 
----
Back in the kitchen, you turned your head at the sound of the back patio doors opening, showing Morgan and Spencer. Guess they’d be the second pair done with their house tour. 
Just as you were about to open your mouth and offer the two of them something to drink, you noticed the rather grim expressions on both their faces. Upon better inspection, you saw Spencer was tightly gripping on to a dirty journal. 
“What’s that?” You asked curiously, trying to get a better look at it. 
“I found this uh, journal out by the edge of your property line. I think it may belong to the unsub.” Reid responded, giving you a tight lipped look. 
It was terribly cliche, but you couldn’t help but gasp at that. Your eyes going wide and your mouth hanging open. 
“I flipped through it, there’s nothing that clearly identifies him, but it seems like he was keeping track of your comings and goings. As well as keeping a list of the things he took from your house, we can cross check that list with-” 
“Can I look at it?” You interjected, a morbid curiosity consuming your mind. 
Reid gave an unsure glance at the two other agents in the room. “I think it’d be better for the rest of the team and I to look through the journal first, and make sure there’s nothing uh...upsetting in it.” 
----
With the new revelations that the unsub had managed to break into your home multiple times, the team decided it would be best for at least one of them to be with you at the house at all times; during the day they would assign a plainclothes officer to discreetly sit watch. It was comical, the way they decided on the watch and then promptly assigned Aaron the first shift of the night. 
You wondered why he agreed to it, knowing he could’ve easily pulled a seniority boss card and taken himself out of any and all future watch shifts as well. He probably didn’t want you to get closer with any of his agents, should you accidentally say something a bit too personal. He also probably assumed that with the late hour of the night, you’d immediately be going to bed or at least locking yourself away in your room for the rest of the night. 
The team had stayed hours after their first walkthroughs of the house, the new list and notes from the unsub giving you all a better idea of what to look for. You had gone through the list of clothes and jewelry in front of the team, giving them a base description of what you assumed the unsub had meant, whether or not you had considered it missing and where you thought you’d last seen it in the house.
Unfortunately, whatever Aaron had been banking on wouldn’t be happening. You hadn’t been able to shake the sinking feeling that your house was no longer a home anymore. It was painfully cheesy, but you knew that trying to sleep would be futile. Nor did you really feel like being ‘alone’ in your room. That didn’t mean you were going to strike up a conversation with Aaron or ask him to play a board game or something, but you wouldn’t be shutting away from the rest of the night. 
After the team left, you had gone upstairs and changed into a more comfortable outfit for the evening; just your trusty sleep shorts and an oversized t-shirt. You were now walking back down the stairs and towards your kitchen; you grasped a lighter and your emergency cigarette pack in one hand. As you made your way into the kitchen, you could feel Aarons eyes on you from wherever he was seated in the living room. You pointedly ignored him, instead setting the pack and lighter down, freeing your hands so you could mix yourself your favorite drink. 
Once your drink was prepped, you balanced all your things in your hands and made your way back through the living room and out the grand French doors that lead to your backyard. You walked over to one of your lounge chairs that overlooked the pool and had a beautiful view of the sky and bright lights of the city. You turned on one of your favorite playlists and made yourself comfy in the chair, lighting up one of the cigarettes. 
With the first inhale, you felt your body relax. It was a horrible habit- you knew that-, but if there was ever a time to stress smoke, you reasoned it was probably now. Over the sound of your music, you faintly heard one of the doors open again, but you didn’t bother turning around. 
“I thought you quit.” Aaron said, quite literally coming out of the shadows. Even though you didn’t turn to look at him, you could perfectly imagine him in your mind; probably leaning up against one of the legs of the cabana, arms tightly crossed and a deep scowl on his face. 
“I did.” You replied plainly, blowing a steady stream of smoke out of your mouth. Using your free hand you picked your glass back off the chair side table, twirling it slowly. As you took a long sip, you could hear Aaron walk closer, not quite coming into view yet. 
“Drinking and abusing substances in response to a traumatic situation is widely frowned upon. 
“Thank you Surgeon General,” you said, rolling your eyes before adding, “no offense Agent, but right now, I don’t really think it matters.” You didn’t even bother attempting to argue that you were on your first drink and first smoke. 
“It matters, when my team will be counting on you tomorrow. The expectation is that you’ll be a useful and legitimate resource.” Aaron said, voice tight. 
“Do you really think I’m dumb enough to actually believe, that you believe that a single drink is going to render me useless?” You asked, finally turning your head so you could give him a pointed look. When he didn’t answer you rolled your eyes again, turning back away from him. “It doesn’t matter, Agent, I’m unavailable to be a resource tomorrow.” 
“What do you mean, unavailable?” Aaron asked. He finally walked into view, sitting down on the chair next to you. He positioned his legs over the edge facing you, resting his elbows off his knees. 
“What do you mean unavailable?” You said mockingly- the alcohol in your system and stress of the day emboldening your behavior. You paused for a moment to take another drag from your cigarette; Aaron didn’t miss the way you turned your head further from him during your exhale. “You have your job Agent, I have mine.” 
“There is a dangerous free man out there with a special interest in you. He’s not only managed to break into your house but is also murdering surrogate women in place of you,” he said, voice growing louder as he went, “and you think you should go to a film set? How immature and irresponsible are-” 
“Stop doing that!” You cut him off, snapping your head to face him. For a brief moment, you were taken aback by how close he’d been sitting. “Stop painting me to be some dumb self centered girl. This is the fourth time today.” You said, staring him hard in the face, neither of your breaking eye contact. He always looked so good with a beard- stop that. 
“I’m trying to do my job and protect you,” he paused, eyes scanning your face, “I couldn’t handle anything happening to you.” In that moment, his voice was so painfully honest and it almost made you want to agree to do whatever dumb rules he had for you. 
Almost.
Instead, you swung your legs to the side of the chair opposite to him, standing up in a quick blur of motion. “Stop doing that too!” You exclaimed, running your free hand over your face. You took a long drag from your cigarette, placing one hand on your hip. Aaron was giving you a genuinely confused look and you just wanted to wipe it off in one big swipe. “Stop doing some weird little bait and switch between acting like I’m a diva and then trying to end it with some vaguely little sweet comment.” 
“You actually think I don’t care about your safety?” Aaron asked, the faintest bit of hurt in his voice. He stood up as well before continuing. “You think this isn’t a difficult case for me?” 
“You do not get to do that!” You said angrily, pointing a free finger out at him. “You are not allowed to try and make yourself a victim in this story while you simultaneously make me part of the problem. How the hell can you see yourself as even remotely ‘good’ when you left the way you did?” There it was. Maybe it was immature, dragging the breakup into the argument, but the days’ tension- not to mention the months of bottled up emotions- was finally snapping inside of you. 
“If you’re upset over how I ended our relationship, that is completely separate from the dealings of the case and I expect you to be able to conduct yourself appropriately.” Aaron said and you thought that this must be what ‘seeing red’ meant. 
“Do you treat all your witnesses like this?” You were full on yelling now, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. “Is this your version of appropriate conduct, Agent Hotchner? You’ve proven to be nothing but incompetent! You can’t even see two inches past your own fucking face to consider this from my perspective!” 
Your words had their intended effect. Aaron’s face fell for the briefs of moments before years of bottling his own emotions took back over. You had to give him some credit for keeping it, outwardly, more together than you were. “I won't fight with you over something as trivial as this. You’ll report to the station in the morning with the rest of the team.” He ordered, voice dangerously low. 
“I have to work!” You exclaimed, putting heavy emphasis on each word. 
“Going to work isn’t safe. Do you understand that? Your stalker is well acquainted with your schedule, you need to step away from what’s expected of you. It’s dangerous-”
“Oh my god,” you groaned, shaking your head, “are you even listening to yourself? Your job is dangerous every single day, hell you didn’t even step away when the job was dangerous specifically to you! How am I supposed to take advice you can’t even follow?” At the end of your sentence, you angrily stubbed out your cigarette in the ashtray, leaving the butt in the tray. 
“This isn’t about me.” Aaron snapped, voice loudest it’d been all night. “I’m trying to keep you safe. What part of that don’t you understand?” He asked, giving you a tough look. You found yourself at a loss for words and he took your silence as an opening to continue. “I can’t stand to see you get hurt.”
“Are you finally understanding how exhausting it was to love you!” You blurted out, the words catching even you by surprise. You forcibly blinked back the tears forming your eyes. “That this, is how I felt each time you were called away on a case?” 
Aaron was equally as shocked, his mouth opening in vain a few times as he searched for the proper response. “I made sure you were properly aware of the risks and demands of my job before we started our relationship.” Bad answer.
“And I never complained,” you replied, a defeated tone creeping into your voice, “not once, did I?”
“If you’re going to accuse me of hypocrisy, you should recognize it in yourself. You were equally if not more in demand than I was.” 
“I thought you liked that I was so ‘in demand’!” You said, the frustration growing again. “What was it you always said? You liked not having to worry about me alone at home, waiting up for you.” 
“You’re coming to the station tomorrow Y/N. Final order.” Aaron repeated, completely ignoring your last statement. 
“You know what,” you said, the fight in your voice gone, “I don’t have to put up with this and your lame attempts at trying to be a good guy. I’m not having this conversation anymore.” You quickly leaned over to swipe your cigarette pack and glass of the little table. 
“Are you actually going to run away from this?” He asked, almost as if he was trying to bait you back into the argument.
You scoffed loudly, staring him dead in the eyes. “You did.” 
You angrily walked around him, nearly stomping the entire way to the door. As you were halfway into the house you paused for a moment, not even slightly turning your head back towards him. “Blankets are still in the same spot in the living room.” You said, slamming the door behind you as soon the sentence left your lips. 
-----
The next morning, promptly at 8am, an email from your agent was sent to Aaron. It was incredibly petty and inherently personal, but to an outsider it was nothing out of the ordinary for someone of your status. Aaron was near furious, as expected, but even in his stubbornness he could see you had the high ground. Long story short, the email plainly stated vaguely threatened that if your work schedule were to become an issue for the team, you could easily send a ‘spokesperson’ from your team to deal with any and all future communications. Y/N 2, Aaron Hotchner 0.
Back at your house, you were having a lovely morning. The victory tasted sweet in your mouth as you got yourself ready for the long day. Sometime around 4:00AM Reid had switched out with Aaron and the two of you were currently in your kitchen; Reid sitting at one of your countertop stools while you stood over the stove. After being angrily informed by Aaron that you wouldn’t be required to come into the station with Reid, you decided to make a simple breakfast for the two of you. Reid had wanted to leave sooner, but he was also under orders to not leave you alone until you were safely in your own car and on your way.
You weren’t sure how he felt, but you thought you and Reid got along quite well. He was the closest in age to you and even though he didn’t really seem to understand any of the little jokes or references you made, there was still some level of mutual understanding there. It didn’t hurt that he was quite easy on the eyes as well, of course he wasn’t Aaron by any means- stop that! 
Over breakfast, you spent the entire time answering Reid’s many questions about various actors and actresses he was a fan of. Lucky boy, you thought; as all the people he mentioned were quite nice even when the camera was off. What was it that people said about never meeting your hero? 
He graciously offered to do all the clean up, as you had cooked, which gave you a bit of extra time to make sure you were ready to go. When you both were ready and Reid had confirmed the plainclothes officer was positioned on your street, he helped you to your car. 
With one hand on the top of your car, just as you were about to sit down, you stopped and turned to Reid. “I enjoyed breakfast, would you please tell Agent Hotchner how sorry I am that my schedule’s gotten in the way?” You asked, giving him your sweetest smile. It was another petty move and Aaron was sure to see right through it; the team had amazing skills at reading people, you knew that, but you were an equally talented actress. “I’ll make sure to let you guys know when I’ll be back at home tonight.” You added, before sliding into your car. Reid closed the door gently behind you, waving from the outside of your garage as you pulled out and drove off. 
-----
Case wise, the next two days were quiet. You had won the ‘going to work battle’ by a longshot and happily went about your scheduled days. Aaron hadn’t taken another watch shift since the argument, something you were grateful for. It wasn’t until the fourth day, that the case started to pick up again.
“Agent Hotchner?” A young officer stepped into the conference room, holding out a thick manila envelope. “This was just dropped off at the front desk, addressed to you.” That certainly captured the entire team’s attention; every head turning, as if off on a swivel, to face the officer. 
“Who dropped it off?” Hotch demanded. ‘Who dropped it off?” He repeated, an added aggression in his voice. 
“Some kid! Some kid dropped it at the front and left before anyone could get a word out!” The officer said hurriedly, raising one of his hands up in a meek surrender. 
Hotch stepped up to the officer, easily snatching the envelope out of his hands. “Assure that my technical analyst has access to your entire security feed. Now.” He ordered, not giving the officer as a second glance. “Morgan, call Garcia and make sure she accesses those tapes and identifies the kid immediately.” 
Hotch went back to standing in front of the long table in the middle of the room, setting the envelope down in front of him. “Gloves, I need-” A pair were placed in his outstretched hand by Reid before he could finish. “I don’t want anyone touching anything that comes out of here without gloves, understood?” He said, not looking at anyone in particular. His focus, completely drawn to the angry penmanship that spelled out his name. After quickly pulling his gloves all the way on, Hotch grabbed the envelope again, internally shoving down his emotions before ripping off the top edge in one clean pull. Nothing could have prepared him for the way the envelope was overflowing with hundreds of photos of you. He tilted the envelope and they all came falling out, covering the table in front of him. Reid mentally estimated there were over five hundred photos of you- some seemed to be cut, some looked to have writing and designs on them- and there were even a few slips of paper thrown in the mix. 
“Hotch, Garcia managed to grab the plate from what the kid drove off in. She's running it-” Morgan said, his sentence running off as he took in the table full of photos. “Holy shit.” He said quietly, making his way closer to the table as well. 
Hotch reached down, picking up the closest photo to him. There you were, standing on a boardwalk with your hand blocking the sun from your eyes. You looked beautiful- stop that. As Hotch further studied the photo, he picked up a second one, taking another good look. It struck Hotch and the team then, the majority of the photos were grossly intimate; as if the unsub had taken them by himself. Hotch’s stomach twisted when his eyes fell on a photo that looked like you were posing for it, throwing a big smile and peace sign up at the camera. 
“Did Garcia get any hits on any scorned lovers?” Emily asked, holding up a photo of you and a man. The face and body of the man had been aggressively scratched over and cut up, but Aaron had a sinking feeling it was of him. 
“Yea, I got another potential ex photo right here.” Reid said, holding up another picture. In this one you had clearly been looking up at someone, but the photo had been crudely cut up to exclude whoever it was. 
Morgan held up one of the slips of papers, giving it a confused look. “You lost Aaron?” He said, reading off the paper. “What’s the reasoning for singling out Hotch rather than someone closer to her age like Reid” He questioned, not expecting anyone to answer. 
“I got one of Hotch’s face scribbled over. He must’ve gotten the photo online.” Emily added, holding up a professional headshot of Hotch. “Is anyone seeing photos of the rest of us? The unsub could see all of us as interfering with his connection to Y/N.” 
Hotch’s stomach was twisted in all different directions. He knew the moment of truth was coming and was internally cursing himself for not coming clean sooner. But that paled in comparison to the sickness he felt over the unsub clearly being someone who had such personal access to you. He was certain that some of these photos dates back years. The idea that whoever was doing this had been so close to you, for so long, could’ve brought him to his knees. 
“Hotch…” JJ said, her voice accusatory. She looked up at him, face a mix of confusion and a hint of betrayal. She held up another photo and the entire team went quiet. This photo was clearly taken at a distance, but there you were looking lovingly up at a man who was certainly Hotch. 
Hotch had one hand clenched tightly on the edge of the table, taking a deep breath before he looked up at his agents staring expectantly at him.  
“I haven’t been completely honest with you all,” Hotch started, running his free hand over his face, “I met Y/N five years ago and we were together for three, until I ended things.” He was sure someone had audibly gasped at that. “I know you all may have various concerns over my proximity to the case and are valid in any anger you may feel towards me. But right now, I need to go call Y/N and make sure she’s safe.” 
Hotch didn’t give anyone a chance to reply, instead whipping out his phone and near running out the door. Leaving a team of confused and shocked agents in his wake.
-----
a/n - of course, thank you all for reading. it means the world to me! also just the quickest of shoutouts to @kylorendrip and @ssahoodrathotchner who both constantly put up with my writing complaints and all the random ideas i bounce around their dms on the daily. 
taglist - @mac99martin @iwaizumiee @kylorendrip @hqtchner @lieswithoutfairytales @ssahoodrathotchner @midsummernightdream @weasleylovers @evans-dejong @itsmytimetoodream @yoshigguk @28cnn @cuddlyklaus @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @yallgotkik @sunflowersandotherthings @alexrodriguez1269
no permission is given to copy or republish my writing on any other platform or account. if you see this story outside of my blog or my ao3 it is stolen work. i do not own nor claim to own criminal minds or any of the character involved in it.
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hold-our-destiny · 4 years ago
Text
5 times tony comforted Peter and the one time Peter comforted Tony
This is for @bluesweatshirt for the friendly neighborhood exchange!
(also i’m really sorry i couldn’t add in a cut off on mobile)
________________
1.
Peter wasn't a sad person.
He wasn't too sad when his parents didn't come home from their business trip. Yeah, he was sad when Ben died- he died in front of him for god’s sake- but he didn’t show it, he sucked it up and helped May with the new struggles with money.
Peter wasn't sad, no. He was tired though.
God, he was so tired.
It had been two weeks since homecoming night and Peter was catering between not being able to sleep at all and waking up every night from nightmares.
This night was different, though.
Because for some reason… Mr Stark was in his nightmare.
It was never anyone but peter. Always Peter stuck under rubble, falling from a plane, stuck in the fire. Never anyone else so why now would it be Mr Stark?
That wasn’t exactly the first thought on his mind when he woke up.
___________
Peter woke up with a start, breath stuck in his chest, tears already escaping his eyes.
He threw the covers off him, needing to be free from the confines, before reaching for his phone.
He’s hurt, mr stark’s hurt and he can't help him- oh god he can't save him-
“Hello?” Mr Stark’s groggy voice shook him out of his thoughts.
“Mr Stark?” Peter asked, almost scared for any reply.
“Pete? You okay?” His mentor’s voice took on a new tone. Worry mixed with… something.
“Yeah, sorry, i just- I’m sorry for waking you- I’ll hang up now-”
“Peter. Are you okay?” The question made him want to cry, made him want to curl up and let it all out with how safe it made Peter feel.
“Yeah I’m-” he took a breath, “I’m fine,”
He could tell the billionaire knew he wasn’t, “Okay, well you might as well help me anyway,”
“Help you?”
“Yeah, i've been up for hours trying to figure this problem out,” He lied.
“O-okay”
The mechanic explained the problem to him, Peter letting the words wash over him, breathing through the explanation. He pretended not to notice when Mr Stark didn't ask for his thoughts, when he reminded him to breathe every now and then, just letting his words soothe the kid from the evident panic attack he’d just gone through.
God, he was so out of his element.
Maybe this was a good thing- maybe it was good for him to comfort this kid- this kid who he barely knew. Just for tonight, only tonight.
2. 
Tony was tired. No, scratch that- he was fucking exhausted.
He was pretty much ready to drop on that wednesday, ready to curl up in his king size bed and sleep for 16 hours straight.
And yeah, maybe he forgot it was lab day.
Peter walked- more like stumbled- through the lab doors, somehow racing and also shuffling to his seat, dropping his bag with a thud and sitting in his chair in almost the same manner.
Peter’s hair was messy, curls more unruly than usual, and Tony would bet that if he could see the kid’s eyes, they wouldn’t look healthy. 
“Hey kid,”
No answer.
“You okay?”
A delay, then a slight nod. Peter still hadn’t put anything in front of him, just simply sitting at the desk.
“You wanna skip lab day today?” 
Peter’s head shot up, eyes wide and concerned. And yeah, Tony was right, he had dark bags under his eyes.
“What? Is something wrong? Do you need me to leave?” Tony raised a hand to stop him.
“No- no- I mean more like…” He didn’t know how he was going to say this, “I’m pretty tired right now, do you wanna just order a pizza and chill out on the couch?”
Peter looked at him suspiciously, before nodding, already getting up and heading to the other room.
Yeah, tony thought to himself, you’re doing okay
.
______--
Peter was passed out on the couch within 5 minutes, remote laying in his limp hand and head lolled to the side awkwardly.
Tony brought the pizza in, setting the boxes down on the coffee table and gently shook Peter awake.
“Hey, kid,” He whispered as Peter woke up, matching the tone to the dark room, “You wanna have something to eat? Or at least get into more of a comfortable position,”
Peter nodded groggily, sitting up so Tony could sit next to him, legs touching as Peter moved closer. Tony raised his arm up and around the back of the couch, resting on the teenager’s shoulders and allowing him to relax into the billionaire.
Tony put a random star wars film on the tv, letting it drift into background noise as the kid fell asleep next to him.
For years, Tony had been scared of fucking a future kid up, becoming his father and eventually pushing everyone away. Somehow, now, his fears have receded, his mind reassuring him repeatedly.
He trusts you. You’re doing okay.
3.
Peter woke up under rubble.
No, no, this wasn’t a nightmare. The air was too thick, dust invading his airways. He choked on it as he took a breath. It was too dark, way too dark, the rocks were crushing him, piercing his skin in multiple places. He groaned with the weight, reaching for his watch instinctively. 
He pressed the side button three times, letting red light illuminate his surroundings and trying to breathe with the rubble pushing down on his chest.
His watch lit up blue, and Tony’s voice started speaking through it. 
“Peter? Pete- you there?”
“Y-yeah I’m here” He choked out, a waver in his voice.
“Okay, how are you feeling, kid?” 
“I- The rubble- it’s crushing me- i can’t-” His breath started to speed up at the reminder, panic invading his senses.
“Kid- kid! You gotta calm down, okay? We’re getting you out now, i promise- we’re gunna get you out real soon- but you gotta calm down for us to do that, okay?”
Peter made an affirmative noise, closing his eyes and trying to even out his breaths. His memories were resurfacing much quicker than he could cope with and Tony’s voice was only helping slightly. Peter didn’t know what he was saying, letting the noises meld together in his mind as he calmed himself.
After a few minutes- or hours, he didn’t know- he’d calmed down somewhat, finally able to focus on the voice coming out of his watch. 
“We’re getting you out of there now, kid. You’re doing so good for me, Pete- just keep breathing for me, okay?”
With the panic receding now, Peter was much more aware of his surroundings. He was also aware of the fact that his brain was slowing down, unable to process things as quickly as he normally could. There was a reason for that in the back of his mind but he couldn’t reach it. 
There was something wet underneath him, soaking up into his clothes, he didn’t like that. He wanted to move away from it but only made it hurt worse when he tried- he cried out in pain.
“T-tony!” 
There was a scuffle on the other end of the line- “Yeah, pete? You okay?- what’s happening?”
“T’ny- t- tony! T’y please- g’t me out- please- please- i- i can’t-” 
“Peter- what’s happening?”
“H’rts- my- my chest- there’s- it’s-” The panic was back now, confusing him even more than before, “S’mthing- und’r- something wet- under me- t’ny please-”
“Shit- Peter- Pete- breathe, okay kid? Breathe for me. We’re gunna help you,”
Peter took a breath, then another, and another, steadying his heart before whimpering when the rubble shifted, “Kid, we’ve almost got you. I need you to stay awake, okay? We’re gonna get to you soon but you gotta stay awake so you can tell us if we move the wrong thing, okay?”
Peter made an affirmative noise again, wanting nothing more than to move away from the pain, but listening to Tony.
Tony talked again a while later, surprising Peter when he did. 
“Pete? You still awake for me, bud?”
“Y-yeah im- im here,” 
He heard Tony breathe out slowly, “That’s good, Pete. We’re only a few feet away from you, but the next thing we’re going to move is gunna shift some stuff, okay? Tell us if it hurts you, okay, kid?”
“Okay- I’ll tell y’u”
He waited a few seconds, hearing some movement to his side, before the rubble shifted and his legs screamed in pain. He only let out a grunt, not wanting to stop the team’s efforts, and only a moment passed before he saw his father figure knelt down beside his head, cradling it with one hand. He smiled up at him.
“T-tony-” He sobbed.
Tony nodded, “Yeah, yeah, kid, i’m here now. Sorry we couldn’t get to you sooner but I got you now, i promise. You did so good for me, bud,”
“Good?” Peter’s eyes were closing now, relishing in the relief of pain after hours of panic.
“So good, kid. I’m so proud of you for staying calm. You can sleep now, okay? Let us do the rest.”
He smiled up at his mentor again, letting his eyes close and his body relaxed as his mind gave in to the not-so-distant pull of sleep.
4. 
Tony woke up that morning to a call from midtown tech.
Of course, he was confused as to why Peter’s school would call him at midday on a random tuesday.
“Is this Tony Stark?” The caller sounded dubious- doubtful.
“Yes, it is,”
“This is Julia calling from midtown tech. Are you the emergency contact for Peter Parker?”
“One of them, yes,”
“Would you be able to pick Peter up soon?” Tony was already getting some more presentable clothes on, worried as hell.
“Yes, of course. Can I ask why?”
“To be completely honest with you, Mr Stark, I don't even know. There’s a police officer in there with him right now, and that’s all i know.”
Tony froze. A police officer could only mean two things, and Tony didn’t like either option.
“I’ll be there in 10 minutes,” And with that, he hung up.
Peter practically fell into his arms when he walked into the office. Tony instinctively went to cradle the back of his head as he processed everything that was happening. One of those things being that Peter was crying.
Peter was crying.
He wrapped his arms around the teenager more firmly as the police officer stepped toward them.
“Mr Stark, I’m officer Langford,” Tony nodded curtly towards him, waiting for an explanation.
“You may want to sit down for this,” 
It took some time for Tony to maneuver Peter into a more comfortable position on the couch in the corner, the kid not wanting his mentor to see his face- in fear?- but they got there in the end.
The officer sat down in a chair opposite them, “I’m sorry to tell you this but this morning May Parker was involved in a car accident, she was rushed to the hospital but unfortunately, she was pronounced dead on arrival-” Peter held him slightly tighter, “We called you here because you were Peter’s second emergency contact, and in situations like these, we need a temporary home for him. If you agree, you can take him home now, and if not we can move him to a separate-” Tony held a hand up to cut him off.
He moved the hand back down to rub across Peter’s back, meant to be a soothing gesture but somehow made him more tense. 
“I’ll take him now, and i can sort out the paperwork for a… longer arrangement soon,” Officer Langford nodded before wishing them well and leaving, but Tony didn’t pay any notice, his mind too caught up in what just happened.
It wasn’t caught up in May’s death, somehow in the back of his mind, he knew, he knew that police officers didn’t just show up at a kid’s school for no reason. He wouldn’t have been called if it was anything else.
No, it wasn’t caught up with that.
It was caught up with the fact that Peter- his kid, his Peter- upon hearing Tony’s agreement to take him in- he lost all tension in his body. As if he was relieved, as if he feared Tony would leave him, as if he would abandon the kid he’s grown so close to lately.
Tony couldn’t process it.
“Hey, kiddo, can you look at me please?” Peter minutely shook his head, burrowing into Tony’s shirt even closer than before. His tears had long since stopped, now just seeking comfort from the billionaire.
“We’ve gotta be clear about some stuff, okay, bud? Just a few minutes and then we can go back to whatever this is,” Tony wasn’t good at this.
But, still, Peter pulled back from their embrace, head turned down towards his legs. 
“Kid-” Tony was stuck for words, “i want you to know that you can stay with me for as long as you like, okay? If it’s just for this week, for a while or if it’s for the rest of your life, okay? I need you to understand that i’m going to stick with you through all of it, anything you need from me, I’ll get it for you,” He took a breath, “You’re not alone in this,”
Peter crumpled.
As if against his own command, his body surged forward, arms clumsily reaching for his father figure, breaths coming through as gasps, head still downturned. 
But still, Tony caught him.
__________
Tony took Peter back to the tower, he set him up in his room, gave him food and sent him to bed. He figured they’d deal with talking about it tomorrow, after some good sleep and a long fucking think about how Tony feels about this kid.
That went to shit at around 4am.
Tony was up on his feet before he could process the scream, legs rushing him to the only inhabited room on his floor. Pushing the door open and hoping for the worst.
He really didn’t expect to see Peter in the corner, bed sheets crumpled around his feet, breaths barely present.
He kneeled down a few feet away, unsure about whether Peter needed him close or not. But upon seeing the kid reach out a trembling hand towards him, he surged forward, pulling the teenager into his arms.
“It’s okay, whatever it is, it’s okay, we’re safe. I’ve got you.” He repeated in hushed whispers, rocking the two of them back and forth.
It was only a few minutes later when Peter responded to him, breathing normally now, hand clutching his mentor’s shirt as he mumbled into his chest.
“Couldn’t- couldn’t save y’u- i- i can’- can’t do i’- pl’se t’ny-”
Tony hushed him. 
Peter repeated the mantra for another- god, tony didn’t know how long- until tony was finally able to hush him. The billionaire carefully picked him up, walking him the few feet over to the bed and laying him down in it. 
Tony hesitated by the door, before hushing his brain of all negative thoughts, turning off the light and retreating back into the teenager’s bedroom. He climbed into the bed with the kid, curling up next to him- relieved when Peter immediately turned to cling to his chest.
Slowly, he fell asleep.
5.
To say Peter was worried about this mission was an understatement. Him and Tony were going undercover together and honestly… it was already awkward. 
The thing is, Peter wouldn’t have any trouble going undercover normally but now, they were going in as father and son. 
There was this guy- this villain they’d started calling the ‘poisoner’- who was targeting father and son couples, poisoning the son and leaving the father with the body until they were found. They’d tried everything to arrest the guy but… he kept getting away- going undercover was the only option- the last ditch attempt before the avengers started knocking on doors.
It was weird how Peter was more scared to act like Toy was his dad, when he could actually die if the other guy got the upper hand.
_______________
They were sat in the hotel room, waiting. 
They saw the guy- the poisoner- earlier at the bar. He’d followed them all night, back to their room but… he hadn’t pushed his way in, always staying just too far away to be apprehended by Tony.
It took a few hours for there to be a knock at the door, Tony standing up and casting a quick look at Peter before going to answer it.
He opened the door to see him- the guy- the poisoner- dressed up as a waiter or something, pushing a cart in front of him.
“Can i help you?”
He smiled, “Room service, sir,” He started pushing his way past Tony.
“I’m sorry, but we didn’t order room service,”
The poisoner turned around quickly as he heard the door blow shut, quickly pulling Tony into a headlock and facing Peter, who was frozen in the shock of it all.
“Now I’m going to say this one time only,” He ignored Tony struggling in his hold, pulling out a gun from his waistband, “There’s handcuffs under the cart. You’re going to cuff yourself to the bed or I’ll blow your dad’s brains out,” 
Peter moved slowly, sliding off the bed and keeping his hands visible. The man was the same height as Tony and didn’t look much bigger than him. Tony should be able to get out of his hold easily- there was a reason he couldn’t- and now he had a gun to his head.
He reached under the tablecloth, feeling the cold metal and pulling out three sets of handcuffs. He moved over to the bed again, cursing the hotel for having actual bed posts, and cuffed his left wrist to the bed, laying down on it to make himself more comfortable. 
The man then pushed Tony away from him, pointing the gun at Peter this time and making fear rush through him, “Now you- cuff his other hand to the bed,” 
Tony hesitated, making the man cock the gun, and Tony then quickly moved towards Peter, efficiently cuffing the teenager’s wrist, giving it a small squeeze of reassurance that didn’t do much to reassure him.
“Pull the chair away from the desk,” The poisoner commanded, “And cuff your hands behind it,”
Tony did so immediately, not risking Peter’s safety again. Only once he was situated did he start talking.
“You know you’re going to regret this,” The poisoner laughed.
“You really think so, do you? I know you’ve got this room bugged, i know the avengers are probably on their way here. But I’m here to send a message,”
“And what message is that?” 
He paused, pulling the lid off the metal plate he brought in on the cart, it revealed a neat line of six vials, all full of a blue liquid.
“You need to pay for what you did,”
__________
As it turns out, the poisoner doesn't actually inject the poison.
No, that would be too merciful.
Tony’s handcuffed to the chair he’s sat in, facing the bed. The same bed of which Peter, his kid, the teenager who he’d grown to care for so much in the past year or two, was handcuffed to in an ironic parallel. Father and son. Mentor and mentee. Tony, the merchant of death, destined to lead anyone he comes into contact with to a gruesome fate.
Peter happened to be that person.
Tony remembered the first few days after the fight with the rogues, how he regretted taking Peter with him, knowing he was going to ruin the kid. The few months after had only solidified that claim, and so he’d taken the suit.
There was no way he was getting out of the situation now.
The poisoner- that son of a bitch tony was going to kill as soon as he could get out of this damn chair-
The poisoner, had strapped a mask to the teenager’s head, slowly screwing in a vial of that fucking liquid on either side.
And now he was breathing it in- the gas- the poison that Tony just sat there as he’d been strapped down.
Now, Tony thought it was bad enough when he’d had all those thoughts running through his head, memories of Peter before they’d gotten to know each other, before Tony had taken him in. He thought that had been bad enough.
But no, it was so much worse when all those thoughts suddenly screeched to a halt.
Because Peter had just turned his head, linking eyes with Tony, a desperate plea moving between them.
Because Peter was scared- he looked terrified. 
There were unshed tears laying in his tear ducts, enough to easily see as you looked at the kid. His lips barely visible within the mask but from what Tony could see, they were held in a strained frown, lips being bitten.
Peter moved his head towards his mentor, linking eyes with the man. And that, right there in that moment, was when the teenager let go.
“T-tony-” A sob cut him off, choked out between his lips.
“T-tony please- i can’t- i don’t-” Tony shushed him from where he was sitting.
“Kid- Pete- I-” Tony was speechless, all known reassurances dying in his throat as soon as he’d thought of them, what were you supposed to say to a kid who was dying and you couldn’t do anything about it?
“Tony- please- dad- i can’t-” that kicked his instincts into gear.
“Kid, you need to stop talking, okay? The team’s going to get here soon, they’ll get this shit out of you and you’ll be okay, then you can tell me whatever you need to when you’re better, okay?”
Peter nodded, eyes still wide with tears but he listened to the billionaire. and somehow, that made it so much worse, the kid would follow him into fire if he asked him to, and now Tony got him into this situation.
Tony wanted nothing more than to look away from what was happening, as Peter breathed in the poison, helpless to do anything, but he couldn’t not be there for the kid. He needed his father figures comfort.
“he’s right, the teams gunna get here soon, i don’t know when but we’ll get you out of this as soon as we can, and then we can spend a week watching all of the star wars movies, and the clone wars if you want, anything you want kid” 
The poisoner was sat in the corner of the room, on the other bed. He was watching them, watching Tony desperately give his kid comfort without being able to touch him. 
Tony looked at him, “you’re a fucking psychopath, you know that, right? he’s 16, he’s just a kid. why don’t you kill me instead if you want me to pay so much, huh?”
The poisoner chuckled, standing up to walk over to them, “If you die, you wouldn’t feel the pain i did as my kid died in front of me, i’m going to make you watch as your kid suffocates in front of you”
He got two new vials, replacing the almost empty ones. Peter’s wheezing had gotten a lot more prominent now, trying desperately to bring in air. 
Tony’s always been around death, it greets him at every corner. but every time, someone else dies instead of him, or at least, they come close to it. 
He doesn’t know what he’d do if Peter dies.
______________
He’d already changed to the last set of vials now, Peter's breath was barely there. 
Tony was fucking terrified, obviously.
The team was close, he was sure of it, but that had been what he’d been telling himself the whole time. 
They were barely minutes out by his assumptions, but he didn’t know if Peter had minutes, vials nearly empty as the liquid in them turned to gas for the teenager to breathe in, slowly suffocating him.
He was still facing Tony, eve after this long, still trusting him to save him. Even as his body could barely pull in breaths, eyes drooping, they didnt stray from his face.
“Peter, you gotta keep your eyes open, i know it’s hard, i know- but you’ve gotta stay awake for just a few more minutes. We’re gunna help you, but you just gotta stay awake,” 
Peter looked at him sadly, but his eyes stayed open and Tony counted that as a win. He started to say something but Tony shushed him quickly.
“It’s okay, kid. Don’t try to talk. We’ve been over this already, you can talk to me after the team gets here- star wars marathon and everything, remember?”
Peter’s eyebrows creased inwards, and Tony’s heart dropped. Either he just forgot about that whole part of their conversation or… or… 
“You just gotta stay awake for me, okay? I believe in you kid, dont let me down,”
_______________
The door seemed to explode inwards when the team got there, Tony didn’t look up.
He didn’t look up as they arrested the poisoner, Bruce and sam moving to Peter, while two others moved to get Tony out of the seat he was in.
As soon as the handcuffs were undone, he surged forward, one hand reaching for the kid’s- which now rested on the bed after being released- and the other going to rest in his curls. Tony quickly wiped the tears off the kid’s face, staying away from his mouth as the others tried to give him as much oxygen as he needed.
Peter choked on a sob when he realised Tony was there, mouth slightly upturning even as another oxygen mask was placed over his face.
“I’m here kid. I’m so proud of you for staying awake, okay?” He looked to bruce, as the man looked away from Peter’s vitals, nodding to Tony now, “You can go to sleep now, I’m so proud of you kid, it’s okay,”
Peter’s eyes didn’t leave him, even as he fell asleep.
Tony cried as he was carried away.
__________________
Peter woke up in the medbay. That was his first sign that something bad happened.
The next sign was his mentor-father-figure-dad asleep on the side of his bed. 
Peter’s eyes widened as he saw the tear tracks lining his cheeks. Tony never cried, not even when he dropped an engine on his foot that one time. If Tony was crying now, this- whatever it was that happened- it was bad bad.
“Tony?” 
Tony startled awake, as if he meant to be on guard, and took one look at the kid in front of him before reaching for Peter and bringing him into his arms.
“Oh my fucking god, kid. Holy shit, you’re okay. Oh my god-”
“Tony what happened?” Was the teenager’s muffled answer, not complaining about being smothered in his da- Tony’s shirt.
“There was this- this guy we went after- had to go undercover and he got to us and he poisoned you, kid- and i couldn't- i couldn't do anything about it- i just sat there and you- you did so good-”
Peter shushed him as the memories arose in his mind, “Tony, can i talk for a second?” He received a nod in reply, “You called the team, Tony. I didn’t, you did. They got there in time and now I’m okay, aren’t I? You did everything that you could, if anything i should've done something, I’m the one with powers here. No- i know- i couldn’t have done anything but you were there the whole time telling me to stay awake and i did, Tony, because of you.”
Tony didn’t say anything, seemingly processing what the kid said. He looked up slowly, tears falling down his cheeks, leaning forward and pulling the kid into a hug again.
Slowly, Peter got tired, nearly falling asleep in Tony’s arms. So, of course, Tony moved into the bed with him, pulling the kid to rest his head against the man’s chest.
“I got you, kid, don’t worry. You can go to sleep,” Peter didn’t know if Tony was reassuring himself or the kid.
Stil, nonetheless, Peter seemingly couldn’t hold back from murmuring a last thought as he fell asleep.
“Love you, dad”
Tony froze for a moment before replying, “Yeah, i love you too, kid,”
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junquisite · 4 years ago
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Blind Date
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WORD COUNT : 1.3K
GENRE : Fluff,  Wookjin/ Nine X OC
WARNING : None
NOTE : This is my first Onlyoneof fic so like..enjoy!
There are a lot of ways a blind coffee date can go for you. Mostly it is meeting someone you have never met before, smiling awkwardly in the beginning and hopefully it gets better and more comfortable and if all goes well, you find yourself with a second date, probably a dinner date.
For Bora, it went NOTHING like that. 
It started normally - a Saturday morning filled with her best friend raiding her closet and making her try any cloth combination she deems fit until choosing the one she actually said she wanted to try - a simple knee-length beige one piece and a cardigan around her shoulder lest it gets chilly in the evening. She reached the cafe with regular messages from the same best friend on her phone about how she’ll probably sweep the guy off his feet because she looked so pretty.
It was a blind date. Her first one at that, set by an office friend that she gave into after about 4 times of being asked. 10 minute passes and she just assumed he was late. She ordered herself some water when the waiter came.
20 minute passed. Then 25. Then 30. Eventually she could feel the stares of the staff and people pitying and there was only so long she could wait for a date she knew she had been stood up for. 
As soon as she pushed her chair back though, the chair in front of her was pulled back and a young man bowed at her as he rushed out, “I’m sorry i’m so late, you had to wait too long didn't you?” he said as he sat and signed at her to sit too.
She took the seat and stared at him. Okay so it was not as much as a blind date per se, she had seen the picture of the guy she was supposed to meet and this extremely handsome idol looking DEFINITELY younger guy was not him.
“Who are you?” was what she asked first and he gave her a shy smile.
“Jung Wookjin. I know I had no right to come and sit here but I was here to meet with someone who had to cancel out and it looked like you were stood up too so I thought maybe we could bond over our broken hearts.”
She stared a bit at him, utterly confused and trying to understand why he was here which apparently made him uncomfortable as he started fidgeting.
“If you want to leave I will understand.” he said as he looked sideways and a giggle escaped her lips. He looked so cute, pouting slightly like that.
“I’m Kim Bora.'' The smile she got at her response made her look away. She wasn't used to sitting in front of cute men, she was bound to turn red.
“So how old are you Bora-ssi?”
“Aah im 24, you?” she asked and he smirked at her.
“I'm turning 22 soon, can I call you Noona thne?” she nodded as she sighed in relief when the waiter came to take their order.
The slight awkward conversation took a turn for the better with every passing second until they looked out and saw it was getting dark. They decided to leave then and as they walked towards the subway station, Wookjin grabbed her arm to stop her.
“Noona.. Why don't we have dinner too? I mean there is this restaurant nearby that I have heard alot about and I would like to try but I have never had anyone to go with and you are here now but of course you don't have to say yes-” his rambling stopped when she started laughing.
“I'm hungry anyway, lets go.” she said as his eyes gleamed with happiness, and during the whole small walk of 5 minutes, he went on and on about the reviews of that restaurant.
The dinner date too, went effortlessly smoothly as the coffee date had gone. They were not even halfway done with dinner when plans for the next date were made - to watch a movie the next day only they both apparently have been wanting to. By the time dinner ended, plans to meet for lunch during their breaks on monday were also made since their offices were nearby.
Phone numbers were exchanged amidst laughter and giggles over stories, incidents at works and even university life popped up. It was fun - Wookjin was fun, Bora realised as time passed. He had this really bright personality and the way to tell even mundane stories as if they were the best thing that ever happened. And the way his whole attention was on her when she spoke, asking questions and wanting to know her- it had been a while since she had felt such a connection with someone in a short span of time and any doubts she had before of maybe she was moving too fast went out of the window by the time they left the restaurant.
It was nighttime and slightly chilly as she wrapped the cardigan around her tightly and rubbed her hands. It was cute how he grumbled slightly and she turned to ask him what was wrong.
“Your cardigan makes everything tough Noona. I could have offered you my jacket when you would have complained about the cold weather but no, you brought the cardigan.” he whined as he glared daggers at the cardigan around her. His whiny tone along with his comment made her laugh so hard she was almost sure there were tears in her eyes.
His little giggles at her laughter and pinkish cheeks did not escape her eyes and she stood up on her tiptoes to pinch his cheeks.
“You’re so cute.”
“I'm not cute Noona, I'm not supposed to be cute!”
Even the way he complained was endearing to Bora as she dragged him towards the subway station.
Half an hour later, he was standing in front of her apartment building as he had insisted on walking her home even when she insisted she could go and it was a safe area.
“I had fun today Noona.” he said as he smiled shyly at her. 
“Me too. I'm kind of glad my blind date didn't turn up.” 
“Im happy too. Can I confess something before we end this date?” he asked and she nodded, curious about his confession.
“My friend did not bail on me, they were running a bit late and I was the only one who cancelled because I wanted to sit with you. I didn't want anything that might happen between us to be founded on lies.”
Well that..doesn't really change anything but is still news for her. It was also slightly flattering to know this and he had already said about 10 times that it was not out of pity why he came to sit with her. And the fact that he was not only adorable, intelligent and interesting but also mature? 
“I.. it's alright I suppose? Although I feel bad for your friend who you cancelled on because of me.”
“He’ll be fine.” he said with a huge smile which made her smile in return.
After a few seconds of simply looking at each other, Wookjin was the first to look away. After clearing his throat and with a clearly red face, he looked at her and said, “So I uhh-- will get going Noona.”
It was a spur of the moment thing. She had not planned for it to happen at all but something about his red face made her want to tease him even more as she pulled him down from the lapel of his jacket and left a small kiss on his cheek.
The result was satisfactory - his face turned even more red, which she did not knew was possible, and he stuttered out incomprehensibly for a few seconds. It was cute, just like everything else about him as she had come to realise.
“I’ll see you tomorrow Wookijn-ah?” she asked as he nodded quickly and then finally looked up at her with the biggest smile on his adorable red face. 
She really was happy her blind date stood her up.
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100layersofdaddyissues · 4 years ago
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Angel - Chapter 3
ITS HERE ITS FINALLY HERE IM SO SORRY. UGH THAT TOOK SO LONG.
but there it is chapter three. I literally wrote most of this chapter while i was in the lobbies of among us games. 
Warnings: Smut, swearing nothing too bad this chapter. 
words: 4.2K!!!!!!!
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As the sun rose on the city, your alarm decided to screech its ugly voice across the whole apartment. Why you had decided that waking up at 5am, when you didn’t start work at your new job in Lord Industries at 9am, was absolutely beyond you. You chalked it up to nerves. I mean sure, you were fucking the owner and CEO but that doesn’t mean you’re going to become complacent about this position. Not only were you working in the largest company in most of the country, but you were also Head Marketing for your city’s division. 
           You started your day as you would any other workday, groaning and convincing yourself that leaving bed was worth it. After that, it was coffee and shower time, and if you were lucky you could throw in a cigarette on the balcony, and since you didn’t need to leave for another 4 and a half hours you thought you might just test your luck with multiple. 
Halfway through your shower you heard the phone ringing, you trudged out to the phone wondering who in god’s name was calling at 4:23am. To your great (and welcomed) surprise, it was Darius. “My dearest I’ve been told to inform you that I will be picking you up today, I’ll be at your door by 7:30. So, be ready.” 7:30? That was a whole hour before you were planning on leaving the comfort and security of your new home. 
           “Darius, I didn’t think we started until 9am why are you picking me up so early?” you queried. 
“Well, it seems Maxwell doesn’t want you catching a cab but also did not offer for me to take you both so obviously this means that I will be picking you up first and making me work extra hard.” 
           Oh. he doesn’t want to ride with you to work. You considered that it was perhaps because he didn’t want to incite rumors, but you found it strange, but nonetheless you told Darius that this would be fine and that you would see him at 7:30. An hour early. 
Only you didn’t see Darius at 7:30, in fact you didn’t even see him at 8, it wasn’t until 8:15 hit that you heard any word from him. “Darius I was just about to call a cab you never came? Is everything okay?” 
“Well, it seems Mr. Lord has contracted an illness, called a hangover. I picked him up at 6:30 to get McDonalds. I’ve already dropped him at work, I suspect he’s napping in his office as we speak.” you couldn’t help but laugh at the idea of Max laying on the floor of his office completely passed out. “I’ll be down in a moment, just let me pick out my shoes.” you said back to him, “ahh so I’ll see you by sundown.” Darius quipped back in a lighthearted way. If things ever went belly up with Max, you really hoped you could keep Darius around. 
The ride to the building was filled with the banter you’d become accustomed to with Darius, until you were pulling up to a big silver building, the largest in the city, obviously. You were in absolute shock and awe when you stepped out of the car, you’d thought for a moment in time, ‘woah, this is what ants feel like.’
“Hello ma’am could I see your ID and security badge please?” were the first words you heard when you walked through the doors to the lobby, you stammered over your sentences confused, you didn’t have a security badge, you didn’t realise you’d need one, Maxwell had never mentioned it. “Thank you, Keith, that won’t be necessary, Miss Y/N here is our new head of marketing, I’ve been tasked by Maxwell to escort her to his office.” Darius said coming up behind you. You hadn’t even realised that he had left the car, but here he was escorting you up the escalators. “Ahh yes, I see, of course.” the security guard, Keith, said with a sly smile and a wink. You knew what that meant, and it churned your stomach to think about. How many times had Max given his one-night stands jobs? If he was willing to do it for you, he was willing to do it for others. 
Unfortunately, your question was answered the moment you reached the top floor where Maxwell’s office sat. he had 4, beautiful, well-shaped, pardon your French but devilishly fucking sexy assistants. Why he would need more than one exceptional looking assistant was a question that in itself was the answer. 
“You can’t go in there, Mr. Lord doesn’t like visitors in the morning, he’s especially not looking for new, meat.” one of them all but sneered at you. “Holly if you would quit blabbering, I think I’d like to escort your new head of marketing to your boss if you don’t mind. Will that be okay with you?” Darius was on a roll today in saving you from situations with people. 
As you walked into his office, Maxwell was, surprisingly, upright, on a phone call, drinking coffee and looking all but exasperated. He opened his eyes for only a minute to point at you and then the chair in front of you, and at this Darius left the room and you had no savior from this situation because Maxwell, well, he looked mad. You were worried you’d already done something to upset you and that’s just what you needed right now. An angry man who housing you and providing you job security and most importantly, orgasm security. 
For almost 10 minutes you sat in that chair waiting for Maxwell to be off the phone, never looking up, as to avoid eye contact. When he finally hung up the phone Maxwell stood up, came around the desk and sighed heavily saying, “god I’m glad you’re here,” before all but smashing his lips to yours. Okay. not upset. That’s good, that’s easy to deal with. “I’ve only been here an hour and already I’m just ready to go to your apartment and fuck all my frustration out.” well you weren’t expecting that per se but it’s a welcome surprised. 
“Well, stop me if this is too unprofessional, but you have a perfectly good table to bend me over.” you said, looking up at him through your lashes, trying to look innocent. 
“God you’re incredible woman.” he said pulling you out of your chair and oh would you look at that, bending you over his desk. 
“I really hope you didn’t buy any pants in that shopping haul of yours because having access to your pretty pussy at work is going to work so well for both of us, he said hiking your skirt up just enough so he could pull down your panties, he bent over you until his mouth was hovering at your ear, “you’re going to need to be quiet angel, don’t want anyone getting the wrong idea about you now do we?” and before even finishing his sentence his thrust his cock straight into you. It took everything in you to not cry out, but you bit the back of your hand to keep yourself quiet. 
“God it’s only been two days and I missed this pussy, how have I fucked you so hard so often and you’re still this tight? You’re fucking magical, aren’t you? You and your magical cunt are going to kill me, you know that? If I could stop sleeping to have more time to fuck this pussy I would if I could starve myself from food and only eat you dear god I would. So, fucking good.” 
“I thought you said we had to be quiet?” you said to him, with a small smirk on your face that quickly vanished as he spanked your ass a few times, then started thrusting into you with such force you thought you might slip open, he pulled you hair to bring you up against his chest, “that shut you up, didn’t it, you fucking brat,” he said replacing your hair in his hand for your throat. 
Within minutes he was Cumming right into you, he must have realized you hadn’t come yet, only stopping for a split second to pull out, spin you around and replace his cock with his fingers, pushing his cum, back into your cunt, finger fucking you until you were once again about to bite into your hand, when Max switched hands and shoved his cum coated fingers in your mouth to keep you quiet. As you cum around his hand and screamed around the other one, Max could only look at you with lust blown pupils. 
“Well, I think this is the best first day I’ve ever had.” you said to him, completely breathless. 
“It’s about to get better angel, let me show you to your office.” 
He was right, your office did make it better. It was a big, beautiful space, with high ceilings, timber floors and a view to die for, you truly didn’t know how you got so lucky just from a random hookup, but you weren’t but to look a gift horse in the mouth. 
“Max this is absolutely beautiful, did the head of marketing get this office too?” you asked in wonderment. 
Well, actually no, this was my office, but I’ve taken over my father’s office, I think it’s about time I moved into it and you gave the motivation to do so.” his smile was small, but it was sincere, you think that might have been the first sincere smile you’d seen from Max. 
“I’ll let you get acquainted with your new space if you have any questions, my extension is 0204 okay? If any of my assistants give you any grief, just tell them that their bonuses are on the line they’ll smart right up. I promise.” Maxwell gave me a wink and then shut the door. You walked around the room, gingerly touching the walls, the painting, slowly sliding your hand across your desk, you felt a sense of pride wash over you as you sat at your desk, you weren’t really sure what to do first, you searched around your desk for notes, maybe the previous person in your position left. 
Just as you thought you’d found them, your door swung open, a woman with burgundy hair and a bright pink skirt suit walked through the door. 
“Hello sweetheart, I’m here to help you out, I’m your assistant and Mr. Lord told me that you’d be starting today I figured that he wouldn’t have told you anything, so I thought I’d come give you the rundown, I was the last guys assistant too.” she was really perky, very upbeat for 9:13 in the morning. “Oh, you probably think I’m so rude, my name is Sookie, Sookie Amelia Jersey, it’s nice to meet you?” he hadn’t even told anyone your name yet? Okay feeling less special now. 
“y/n my name is y/n y/l/n but just call me y/n, thank you so much I really have no idea what I have to be doing.” you said trying not to sound like you weren’t supposed to be there or that you didn’t know what you were doing. Which you didn’t. But she didn’t need to know that. 
“Well then let’s get right to it.” and with that, you and Sookie started talking business. 
 It seemed like the time was going so slow, that was until the door swung open once again, only this time Darius stood at the door, coffees, and an ominous brown bag. “I knew you wouldn’t have eaten, so I’ve brought sustenance, oh hello Miss Jersey.” Darius really just knew everyone, maybe he’s a wizard. 
“Darius you are absolute life saver, I think you might be the love of my life.” you said with utter certainty that Sookie now probably thinks there’s something going on between you guys. Ahh if only she knew. 
“And you are mine, dear, but before we begin planning the wedding might I suggest food?” he places the coffee down on the table and what you can now see are croissants. Hmm, 4 coffees, 4 croissants. And as if on cue Darius mutters that he’ll be back as he needs to deliver Max his lunch. 
“I didn’t realise you were already in with Darius. That man took me four years to crack, another two for him to start bringing me food, and here you are on your first day on a first name basis? Who did you fuck to get that treatment?” oh god had she caught on? Does this happen a lot? Does Max give jobs to everyone he fucks? Your mind is running a million miles an hour when you sheepishly laugh and tell some lie about how Darius was an old friend. She seemed to buy it as she moved on to talking more about marketing and what you’ll need to do. 
Soon it was the end of the day and Darius was back at your door telling you to meet him at the car. You said goodbye to Sookie and apologized for stopping her from working. 
You left the building and walked to the car seeing Maxwell in the back of the car. Oh. so now he’s good enough to go home with you but not to come to work with you. You see how it is. 
           You greeted him as you entered the car only for him to point at the phone, you looked at Darius in the rear-view mirror and you both shared a look between you that said, “here we go.” 
           Maxwell was on the phone the entire ride back to your apartment, only removing the receiver from his ear to say, “wear something classy I’ll be back at 7.” 
           What? 
           Its Maxwell Lord, you decided it would be safer for you to heed his warning and just wait to find out what happens. Maybe he just wanted to fuck someone high class tonight. 
            As it neared closer to 7 you kept meticulously checking your hair and makeup, making sure there was nothing on the red gown you’d chosen to wear. You really hoped you would figure out what was going on first, so you didn’t need have anxiety waiting to find out. 
           Just before you could contemplate jumping off the fire escape there was a sharp knock at the door, and a very sharply dressed Maxwell. 
           “Hello angel, I’m here to escort you to your first lord industries gala. You look incredible and I am definitely going to ravish you later, but we really should be going.” he all but pulled your arm out of its socket as he led you out of your door towards the elevator 
           “I don’t mean to sound clueless, but what gala? I haven’t been told about a gala?” you said to him, sounding slightly timid. 
           “Oh? Did I not tell you? We’re having a gala to celebrate the surplus budget this quarter and has my new head of management I thought it only proper to escort you there myself. Plus, there will be some CEOs from rival companies there, I do love to gloat to my competitors.” there was a new air around Max, he looked more pristine and confident. Tonight, was going to be intense you could already feel it. Even on the drive over he was, happier? Maybe he really did just get a kick out of showing off. You understood that. You couldn’t lie and say that it didn’t excite you to be walking in on Maxwell’s arm. To have all eyes staring at you wondering who you were and what you were doing with him. 
           As you arrived at the gala there was a slew of cameras lining a beautiful gold carpet. “We always go with gold because red is overdone, and Lord Industries is revolutionary. Were made of gold baby.” well that explained it. Not that you were questioning it, he did seem like the type to break the mould when it comes to luxury. I mean he was housing you just for the luxury of having convenient sex. It just seemed to fit Max really.
           Exiting the car, the barrage of flashes and yelling hit you like a wall, it was a wonder you didn’t freeze up under the pressure, but you walked next to Max with all the poise and confidence you could muster. The photographers were yelling questions at Max, not at you, but they were all asking about you, you kept your head forward and so did Maxwell. He didn’t say anything while walking past them and up the stairs, his expression only changed after entering the building. He turned to you and praised your level of composure before leading you up to two large doors. On the other side you could hear music and chatter, you wondered why you weren’t entering until you heard an announcer say “Folks, I’m sure were all having an absolute stellar time, but I’d like to draw your attention to the man of the hour, Mr. Maxwell Lord.” his voice rang out over large speakers as the doors opened and Maxwell lead you into the ballroom to polite applause. 
           You were stunned at how many people there were standing in the ballroom, you stood there feeling quite awkward at the stares that were being passed your way and the slight glares coming from some of the women, (and a few men) in the room. 
           “My friends and guests, thank you all so much for coming tonight and while I can appreciate that you would all like to go back to drinking my champagne id first like to introduce someone to you, your new head of marketing for Lord Industries, Miss Y/N Y/L/N. I’m sure she’ll fit right in with us and help us continue to be the frontier for this country.” Max had an excellent public speaking voice; he commanded the room, and you couldn’t lie. You got kind of wet seeing him so, for lack of a better word, bossy. 
           Max leaned in and whispered to you, “go mingle, if you need anything Darius will be floating around.” and then he was gone leaving you to your devices. 
           Thankfully, Sookie found you almost immediately, “I just knew he’d leave you floundering the moment you got here, he’s probably already in the bathrooms giving one of his assistants a ‘bonus’ doesn’t worry sweetheart I’ve got you covered ill introduce you to the actual important people.” and so she did. Within the hour you’d met the head of sales, Mary, head of finance, Samuel, and their assistants, Lorelai, and June. she showed you (but absolutely did not introduce you to) the head of Human Resources, Marcus, who was (in her words) a total douchebag, the head of purchasing, Manny, who apparently would want to corrupt you, you didn’t want to ask what that meant but you had some idea and wanted to laugh because if only Sookie knew. By the time you’d met Jenny, lady who ran the coffee shop in the lobby, Darius had found you both and you sighed a breath of relief, you loved Sookie, but you still weren’t too familiar with her. 
           “My dear you look exquisite I told you that you would look amazing in that dress.” Darius said with one of the biggest smiles you’d ever seen him wear. “You’re drunk aren’t you Darius.” you laughed at him; he was wobbling a bit. 
           “Y/N I am offended that you think I would drink at a work function. But yes, I am absolutely sloshed. Galas are the only nights I can get so drunk I can’t walk, and Maxwell doesn’t fire me, he says it’s good for me to let go, I have no idea what he’s talking about. I am very relaxed all the time, who wouldn’t be working for the prince of darkness. Oh god he’s not behind me, is he?” 
           “Darius you’re rambling, he’s not behind you, I haven’t seen you since he left me at the start.” you said trying to get him to stop talking so rapidly.” 
           “Well, my dear he has seen you; he’s been staring at you since Sookie found you.” Darius’ head vaguely pointed to the wall behind him, you stole a glance and sure enough there was Maxwell, talking to someone but not paying attention to them, he was staring right into your soul, it wasn’t a glare or even angry in anyway, but it was intense, like he was trying to read your mind. Somehow you believed he actually might be able to. You gave him a small smile and he nodded his head in your direction. You looked back at Darius, “he’s probably just making sure I don’t embarrass him.” you said trying to write off the fact that he was staring. Trying to convince him it meant nothing. Or yourself that it meant nothing and that there definitely was not butterflies in your stomach. 
           An hour passed as you and Sookie milled around the room, you lost Darius at champagne number three, with him and Sookie both calling you a prude for not drinking, and you telling them every time that you hated champagne and would much prefer tequila. 
           Suddenly a hand tapped you on the shoulder, you spun around expecting Max, or Darius or literally anyone else. But not henry. Not your ex-boss Henry Giorgio. “Y/N it’s so good to see you! I was quite surprised to hear that you had left us, but I can see why, head of marketing and you get to fuck the boss? What a steal!” your eyes widened from shock not just at seeing him but hearing what he said, you grabbed his arm and dragged him towards a wall telling Sookie that you’d be back right away. “What do you mean fucking the boss? I am not sleeping with Mr. Lord and I will not have you come here and try to embarrass me just because I wouldn’t sleep with you.” your voice was low but harsh as you spoke you him. 
           “Oh, please darling, this is Maxwell, every time a new woman under 30 starts at his company everyone knows that it because he’s sleeping with her, but you got head of marketing, you must have really shown him a good time, I mean everyone else just gets assistant jobs, but you, well that must have been a good blowjob.” he was snarky and rude, and you felt like you were going to cry. 
           “Oh, don’t tell me I’ve hurt your feelings, what did you think was going to happen? Maxwell was going to fall for you. Darling I wouldn’t even waste your breath on that idea, that man has never felt love, his fiancée went missing for god sakes and he came home and went to work the very next week. He doesn’t care about you. You could die and he wouldn’t notice.” 
You suspected that Maxwell only hired you because he could fuck you but hearing someone else say it mad tears begin to sting your eyes. You didn’t think you wanted Maxwell to fall for you until that very moment in time. Before you could say anything or think too hard on the subject, you felt someone come up behind you, it was Maxwell, and if you could have tensed up even more. 
           “Is there a problem here Mr. Giorgio, I should hope you’re not trying to steal back our new member of the team.” Maxwell also sounded tense, but you knew better than to think it was because you’d been upset and not because Henry was his rival. 
           “No not at all Maxwell, just giving her my good wishes, is all.” Henry’s voice was dripping in the smug tone you’d heard so many times working for Halo. 
           “Well then if you’re done, I’d like to steal Miss Y/L/N back if you don’t mind.” Henry merely waved Maxwell off but by then you didn’t want to be there anymore, your head was swirling, and you could only feel pity for yourself, you broke away from Maxwell to go find Sookie. 
           “I need to go home, please I want to go home, now.” you were trying so hard not to cry, tears stinging and threatening to spill over as Sookie led you out of the ballroom, and as you passed Darius, him quickly catching on and following. You didn’t see the confused and hurt look on Maxwell’s face.
           After you finally exited, you noticed the cameras had left, and you broke down in Darius’ arms as Sookie called her husband, Jackson, to come pick you all up. Darius gave Jackson the directions to your house, and when Sookie and Darius offered to join you, and take care of you inside you brushed them off giving them a lame apology about going to bed early and that you would see them tomorrow at work.
           As you showered and climbed into bed, you were mad at yourself for getting so hurt, this was just a business arrangement. You weren’t special. And you shouldn’t see Maxwell as special either. But you did. 
           And it sucked.
tags: @mandoalorian-mainblog​ @mrschiltoncat​ @innerstrawberrypolice​ @bonjour-je-mappelle-fuckyou​
to get added to taglist let me know!!!
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shelbyiimited · 4 years ago
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Worth It | Thomas Shelby x reader
warnings: daddy issues lol, mentions of substance abuse, alcohol, age gap (legal ofc)
a/n: this may or may not be sumn im actually going thru but as i said before i seek validation through fictional characters especially tommy he’s my comfort character :,)
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“Dad’s getting married. Got new kids and everything.”
You paused at your brothers words, not taking your eyes off him.
“Jesus, I pity them really,” You scoffed.
“I wouldn’t,” Your brother stated, wiping his mouth with a napkin, “heard he’s a changed man, treats ‘em all well, sober too.” he added, taking another bite from his plate.
You heart sank at his words. You hadnt talked to or seen your dad in over 6 years, nor did you want to. But for some reason the thought of him having a new family hurt more than it should have.
Growing up, it was only your brother, you, and your father. Your mother had died while giving birth to you. The death of your mother broke him, your own father blamed you for his wife’s death and there was nothing you or your brother, Robert, could do about it.
Years passed and nothing changed. Robert, who is only 4 years your senior, practically had to raise you. Your dad only ever came home to sleep and even that wasn’t promised.
When he wasn’t working, he basically lived in pubs, getting drunk or high off whatever he could lay his hands on.
He spent most of the money he earned working in factories on alcohol, leaving you and Robert with only enough money to pay rent. Your fathers ignorance forced your brother to give up his childhood. Instead of playing with friends, he was running around doing chores trying to earn as much money as possible so he could put food on the table.
Once you turned 14, you started working too. Robert was finally 18 which meant he could get a real job at the factories. It was dangerous work but with a limited education, it was the best he could do.
You and Robert were doing quite well considering your situation. Robert was making enough money so you didn’t have to rely on your dad anymore, though the extra money didn’t hurt. Once you and Robert were somewhat financially stable you started seeing your father less and less. Until one day, when you were 16, you came home from a long day of chores to find a note from your father.
It didn’t say much. Just basically letting you know that he was leaving and he wasn’t coming back and to your surprise, he said he was sorry for how he treated you and that him leaving is the best thing for all of you, you agreed.
Now, you were 22, working as the Thomas Shelby’s secretary and Robert was a Peaky Blinder. Being apart of the gang was probably more dangerous than working in a factory but the pay was good and you and Robert were under the Shelby’s protection. Thomas Shelby was eveb nice enough to offer you a job when you were fired from your last place of employment. You really couldn’t complain.
You and Robert each had your own flats but would meet once a week for dinner, just to catch up and enjoy each other’s company. But unfortunately this weeks dinner was ruined with the news of your fathers engagement.
You took a sip of wine and set your glass down, gathering your plate and silverware, “Hey, i’m gonna go on a walk, I need some fresh air.” You said, getting up from your spot at the table and heading towards the kitchen.
“I’ll come with you.” Robert said, confused at your sudden change of emotions.
“No, i’ll be okay, I promise.”
“Ok, i’ll clean up.” And with that you grabbed your coat and headed out the door.
The air was so cold it took your breath away but you didn’t care. After walking for a few minutes, you paused, deciding that you really need to take in what Robert told you. Tears started rolling down your cheeks once you really thought about it. Your father made your life a living hell, why were you so upset?
Wiping your tears away, you felt around the pockets of you coat, looking for some sort of distraction. You realized you had an extra set of keys to the office, Tommy gave you a set just incase you ever wanted to come in early or stay late.
And with that, you knew where to go next. You figured you would go in an get a head start on tomorrow’s work.
To your surprise, the door was unlocked. You didn’t expect anyone to still be there, the office closed 3 hours ago.
“Who’s there?”
His words broke the eerie silence that fell over the room, it was your boss, Thomas Shelby.
“It’s y/n.” You rubbed your eyes, trying to hide the fact that you’d been crying.
“Y/n?” He came around the corner, leaning his shoulder against the wall, a glass of whiskey in his hand, “What are you doing here?”
“Sorry, I didn’t think anyone was going to be here, I just thought i’d come in and get some of tomorrow’s work done.” You rambled on, feeling small under his gaze.
“Is everything all right?” He walked over to you, noticing your puffy eyes.
“Yeah,” you chuckled, wiping your eyes one more time, “everything’s fine.”
“Follow me.” he turned around and headed towards his office, you not far behind.
“Take a seat.” He pointed to the chairs in front of his desk as he poured a second glass of whiskey, also refilling his own.
He made his way over to you, handing you the drink.
“Thanks.” You smiled.
“Now are you going to tell me what’s really bothering you?” He took a seat in the chair next to you, keep his eyes focused on your movements.
“It’s just my father.” You sighed, taking a sip from your glass.
“I thought he was out of your life?” He raised an eyebrow, still maintaining eye contact.
“He is.”
“But?”
“But, Robert told me he’s getting married, has new kids as well.”
He nodded.
“Apparently he’s sober now too.” You gently whirled your glass, trying to keep distracted with the swirling liquid.
“I don’t know, I guess I don’t have any room to be upset but how could he just move on like that?” You finally made eye contact with the older man in front of you.
“He’s changed and everything which means he’s always had it in him, why couldn’t he change for me and Robert? Huh?” you didn’t even notice the tears streaming down your cheeks this time, you were too angry.
“Were,” your voice broke, “were we not worth it?” You looked back down at your glass, wiping your tears.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overshare.”
“Hey,” you felt his hand gently guide your face, giving you no other choice but to look at him, “don’t apologize.”
You couldn’t hold back your tears anymore, you fell forward into Tommy’s welcoming arms. He ran his hand through your hair as he held you.
“Don’t ever apologize.” Is all he said. He just sat there, holding you, giving you all the time you needed.
After a few minutes, you were ready to let go, the tears finally stopped.
Even though he made it clear he wanted to listen, you still felt humiliated at the fact that you just broke down in your bosses arms. All you wanted to do was go home and sleep.
“Thank you for listening, really.” You quickly stood up from your seat, straightening out your skirt and blouse.
“Can I walk you home?”
“I’d like that.”
You walked home in a comfortable silence, your arm interlocked with his. Unfortunately, your walk was cut short when you reached your flat, the light was still on. Robert must’ve stayed over, waiting for you.
“This is me.” You smiled.
“Right.”
Once you unlocked your door, you turned towards him, “Goodnight, Mr. Shelby.” and with that you turned to go inside.
“Y/n?”
His words caused you to turn your attention back on him.
“You’re worth it. Don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise.”
You felt your cheeks getting warm at his words, there was something about his tone that made your stomach do flips.
“Thank you,” your eyes softened, “that means a lot.”
“Goodnight, y/n.”
Of course he was just your boss but after tonight, he felt like something more.
2nd a/n: i feel like this lowkey sucks but i just wanted to post something :(
taglist:
• @captivatedbycillianmurphy
• @trippymadds
• @sweatydragoncloudknight
• @tlfshelby1
• @theamuz
• @haphazardhufflepuff
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freddiesaysalright · 5 years ago
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Just Like a Woman - Part 12
A Roger Taylor x Reader Story
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Summary: You and Roger were once in love when you were young. Only, he went on to be a rock star, and you went on to be a lawyer. Now, quite against your will, you’re representing him in his divorce.
Word Count: 3.1k
Tag List: @psychosupernatural, @someone-get-a-medic, @bensrhapsody, @deakyclicks, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession, @minigranger, @crazyweirdocalledfriday, @the-moving-finger-writes, @assembledherethevolunteers, @rose-writes-prose, @queenlover05, @26-7-49, @drowsebaby, @moon-stars-soul, @im-an-adult-ish, @ixchel-9275, @jennyggggrrr, @zyanmaik, @mypassionfortrash, @a19103, @madeinheavxn, @beepbeephardy, @rrogerchxrm, @qweenly, @blisshemmings, @seasidecrowbar, @internationalkpoplova, @ellystone, @takemetoneverland420, @coffeexcigarette, @lookuptotheskiesandsee, @thatpunkmaximoff, @angelkissys, @rocknroll-stolemyass, @simonedk, @anotheronewritesthedust1, @peterquillzblog, @mrfahrenhcit, @joseph-mozzerella, @theprettyandthereckless, @nixfreak, @johndeaconshands, @rogerandhiscar, @queenmaracasandlove, @sunflower-ben, @cubetriangle, @amy-brooklyn99, @scorpiogemini, @kiainspace, @itsabenthing, @bookandband, @makemeyourwife-loveofmylife, @grazessa, @borhapqueen92, @theonsasheart, @vektorivittu, @chanti-frn, @brianssixpence, @dancingcoolcat​, @xviiarez, @irepookie, @lnnuend0, @rogerxmeddows, @vici-xx, @bellas2silly​,@rogerrhqpsody If you’d like to be added for the epilogue, let me know!
A/N: THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER! However, there WILL be an epilogue, so it’s not quite over yet!
Warning(s): None!
Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7 Part 8  Part 9  Part 10  Part 11
Part 12 here we go!!!
Two weeks passed. The sentencing was equally as satisfying as the trial. Sully was hit with ten years in prison, but would not be eligible for parole until after serving at least five. You were sure they would appeal, but for now, he was going to be off the streets and Dominique had secured her justice. It made your entire career in law up until this point worth it. 
After the sentencing, Bill called you into his office. You were nervous about it because usually he didn’t have private meetings unless it was serious. You swallowed before walking in. 
“Y/N,” he greeted you. “Thanks for coming up. I know you’re busy.”
“No problem,” you replied. “What did you want to talk to me about?”
“I wanted to tell you how proud I am of you for handling this case,” he said. “You took it on with no experience. You also overcame your own hurt to take on Roger’s divorce. You’ve proven just how valuable you are to this firm these past months.”
You blinked, surprised by the flattery. 
“Well, I - um - thank you,” you said. “What’s brought this on?” 
“We’re growing as a firm,” he said. “And with John retiring, I’ve got to start thinking about his replacement.”
John was the other senior partner. He was Bill’s professor, and they began the firm together. Your stomach jolted. Was he saying what you thought he was saying?
He twirled his pen between his fingers and glanced down at a packet of papers on his desk. 
“This is a new contract for employment,” he said. “For you. To become a partner.”
“A senior partner?” you questioned. 
He smiled. “Just partner for now. But that is the track I see for you.”
You almost squirmed in your seat with joy. To become a partner was a dream of yours. To be on track for senior partner was even more pleasing to hear. 
“What do you say?” he asked. “We’re a good team. You deserve to help me run this place, especially after what you’ve recently accomplished.”
A smile spread across your face. 
“I say hell yes,” you told him, beaming.  
“Wonderful,” he replied. “If you read the contract, you’ll see your salary increase.”
You reached out and picked up the packet. You scanned the first page until you found the number. Your stomach did a flip at the offer and your eyes went wide. 
“What?!” 
He smirked. “That’s just a little less than I make. I thought that was fair considering how great an attorney you are.”
“That’s a lot of money!” 
“Nothing that you don’t deserve.”
You put the papers in your lap and looked at him with your mouth hanging open. 
“This is incredible, Bill,” you said earnestly. “Thank you.”
“Thank you,” he returned. “I’m looking forward to this.” 
Feeling completely elated, you signed the papers. Afterward, you called Roger to tell him the good news. 
“A partner?!” he gasped. “Y/N, that’s amazing! Congratulations!”
“Thank you, sweetie!” you replied. “I just can’t believe it! I mean, Bill did so much of the work for Dominique’s case, and he guided me through all of it, so I was just really shocked! But I’m excited I can hardly stand it!”
“Tell you what, this calls for celebration,” he said. “How about I take you to a special lunch tomorrow and we can toast to your promotion?”
“I’d love that,” you told him. 
“Perfect,” he said. “I’ll see you tonight, love.”
“See you tonight.”
You hung up and giggled to yourself. You could barely contain your emotion. Everything was coming together, like Roger said. You were looking forward to your future with him, and your promising career as a partner. 
The next day, Jane came into your office first thing in the morning.
“Y/N, Miss -” she began, but Miss Thomas swept by her and marched into your office.
“Miss Thomas needs to see you,” Jane finished, shooting the woman an annoyed glare. 
“Yes, Jane, I can see that,” you sighed. “You may go.”
She nodded and closed the door. You looked at Miss Thomas. 
“Lucy, how can I help you?” you asked.  
“I need you to help my father with his wrongful termination suit,” she said, swinging her hair behind her shoulder. 
“Okay, what does he do?” you asked.
“He’s a primary school teacher,” she said.
“And why was he fired?” you wondered.
“Because he believes he’s Santa Claus,” she told you simply.
You blinked. “I - I’m sorry?” 
“He told the children that he’s Santa - which he believes - so the headmaster fired him,” she went on. “It’s completely unfair. What, just because he’s Santa means he doesn’t have a right to work?”
“You do know that he’s not really Santa Claus, right?” you asked slowly, shock still coming over you.
“There’s no way to prove that he isn’t, really,” she said with a shrug. “Whether he is or not isn’t for me to decide. The point is, he shouldn’t be fired for it.”
“When’s the court date?” you asked, ignoring the ridiculousness of it.
“Tomorrow,” she said. “Can you meet with him today?”
Your eyes went wide. “Tomorrow?! Why am I only just learning about this?!”
“He had another lawyer, but he was terrible so I fired him,” she answered. “You’re the best lawyer I know, so I came to you.” 
“I can meet with him today, but it’ll have to be over lunch,” you said with a sigh. “I’m booked the rest of the day.” 
“Great, I’ll see you at noon,” she chirped. 
She stood up, turned on her heel and sauntered out of your office. You heaved another sigh. You had so been looking forward to your lunch with Roger, but now you were going to have to call and cancel. But as you picked up the phone, you heard the now familiar laugh of the little boy. You whipped around and spotted him crawling beneath the window behind your desk. 
“What are you doing down there?” you wondered, smiling at him. 
You had seen him at least once a day for the past two weeks. You told only Roger, who insisted you see a psychiatrist. Or maybe even a neurologist. You refused because going to the doctor was your absolute least favorite thing to do and you were certain the visions would stop. Only, they weren’t. You were beginning to consider Roger’s idea. Especially now that you were talking to him. 
He only giggled before disappearing as he always did. You shook your head, amused. Then you dialed Roger. The phone rang, and as it did, you got an idea. 
“Hello?” Roger’s voice came through on the other end.
“Rog?”
“Yes, love?”
“Could you meet me at my office for lunch today instead of the restaurant?” you requested. “I’m meeting a last minute client and I could use your help.”
“Really?” he questioned. “Sounds odd. And what about our celebration?”
“It’s Miss Thomas’s father,” you told him. “Can we celebrate tonight instead?”
“I can’t imagine what he’s like,” he said with a chuckle. “Of course we can celebrate tonight. I’ll change the reservation.
“Thank you so much,” you replied. “Get here around noon, yeah?”
“I’ll be there.”
“Love you!”
“Love you more.”
You hung up, humming contentedly. 
He made good on his promise. In fact, Roger arrived before Miss Thomas and her father. You explained to Roger what she had told you that morning, but didn’t tell him the vital question you were going to ask. 
Miss Thomas entered your office, accompanied by the kindest looking elderly man you had ever seen in your life. You wondered how he could have fathered someone like her. He was round, with cherry red cheeks, and a jolly smile. He wore a black peacoat, but you could see the red trousers beneath it. On his feet were black boots. Atop his silvery white mane of hair, he wore a red Santa hat. As he made his way through the office, he wished everyone a happy Christmas. Until finally, he was at your door. 
“Mr. Claus,” you said respectfully. “Thank you for taking time to see me today.”
“Thank you, Y/N,” he replied. “This whole business is really throwing off my schedule. And this is a very busy time of year for me.”
“I imagine so,” you returned. “Please, have a seat.”
“Thank you,” he said kindly, and he sat in a chair across from your desk. 
“Tell me a little bit about your case,” you said. 
“Well, for most of the year, I teach primary school,” he explained. “But of course, the closer the holidays get, the busier I get. So, I told the children this and why I was so busy, and then some parents got upset and the next thing I knew, I was fired.”
“I’m sorry,” you told him. “Well, we’re going to try and get you your job back, sir. Only, we have to prove that what you’re saying isn’t proof of diminished capacity, which is what the headmaster is claiming.”
“I don’t understand all these legal terms,” he said with a shrug. “I just know that after delivering the presents this year, I won’t have the usual children to look forward to.”
“Mr. Claus, have you ever seen this man before?” you asked, pointing to Roger. 
Mr. Thomas laughed heartily. “Well, of course I have! But not since he was a boy! How are you, Roger?”
“Um...fine?” 
Roger raised a concerned eyebrow at you. He clearly had never actually met this man in his life.
“Mr. Claus, do you know Mr. Taylor from his band, Queen?” you asked. 
Mr. Thomas shook his head. “I’m afraid not. Roger stopped writing to me when he was ten, and of course with all the new children, we lost touch.”
“Mr. Claus, how many children does Roger have?” you asked. 
“Why, he’s got two!” Mr. Thomas said excitedly. “Little Felix and baby Rory. Both very good children who will be getting sweets in their stockings this year!”
Roger’s eyes went wide as an owl’s. He looked over at you again. 
“I’ve never shared my children’s names publicly,” he said. “Ever.”
“And of course, there’ll be another next year, though he hasn’t got a name yet,” Mr. Thomas added with a twinkle in his eye. 
You froze as you absorbed those words. 
“I...I’m sorry, what?” you squeaked with shock. 
Miss Thomas looked at you like you were an idiot. 
“You’re pregnant, Y/N, didn’t you know?” she snapped. 
“How could I possibly know, I haven’t even missed a period!” you protested. 
You looked desperately at Roger. The color had drained from his face. You gaped at each other, in complete disbelief. 
“You’ve seen him, haven’t you?” Mr. Thomas said. “Your son?”
“M-my son?” you sputtered. 
Was that the little boy you were seeing? Was that why he resembled Roger with that little piece of you? 
Mr. Thomas’s eyes sparkled again as he winked at you. 
“I...I have been seeing a boy, but I didn’t…” you trailed off, brain muddled with everything you were experiencing.
“He’s trying to get your attention, Y/N,” Mr. Thomas said. “Have you spoken to him?”
“I’ve tried, but he always disappears,” you admitted, unsure what made you comfortable enough to say it. 
“He’s telling you he’s on the way,” he continued. “You ought to schedule an appointment with your doctor.”
You still couldn’t quite believe what was happening. You had no anticipated Mr. Thomas knowing about Roger’s children, much less the one that might exist in the future. And yet, to think that you might be carrying Roger’s son made you happier than you could recall feeling in years. 
“Mr. Thomas, I will take your case,” you finally said. 
“Hold on, this must be a trick,” Roger interjected. “I’m famous, he could have known -”
“Not if you’ve never shared their names,” you cut across him. 
“What if he’s a journalist who could somehow gain access to -”
“Roger, he’s a schoolteacher,” you interrupted again. Then you looked at Mr. Thomas. “And so much more.”
You smiled at him, which he returned. Roger was still struggling.
“This is crazy,” he said. “It’s absolutely mad.”
“There’s only one way to be sure,” you said.
You had Jane schedule you a doctor’s appointment that afternoon. An at-home pregnancy test would not do for this occasion. Roger insisted on coming with you, so before you knew it, you were sitting on an exam table, swinging your legs with anxiety. Roger was pacing in front of you. The results of this would mean Mr. Thomas was telling the truth, but it meant even more for you and Roger.
“Rog, if we are pregnant,” you began with a sigh. “What...what would you like to do about it?”
He looked at you and his brow furrowed. “How do you mean?”
Tears started to well up in your eyes. “I mean, would you want to keep it, or…?”
“Oh, my love,” he said gently, striding over to pull you into a hug. “Of course I want to keep it. It’s our child.”
“I know, but we’ve only just got back together, and we aren’t married,” you went on.
“Would you like to be?” he asked.
You blinked. “What?”
“Married,” he said. “Do you want to get married?”
“Is this a proposal?” you returned.
“It might be,” he replied. 
You frowned. “Roger, I don’t want to get married just because there might be a child. I want you to marry me only if you really want to marry me. And if you are going to propose, it can’t be in a bloody doctor’s office.”
He chuckled. “Don’t get upset, it was just a way to start the discussion.”
A beat passed and he became serious again.
“Y/N, I want to marry you because I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone,” he said. “The only thing more foolish than getting married would be not getting married because we have wasted so much time already.”
Your mouth began to fall open as you looked at him.
“And no, this isn’t an official proposal,” he said. “I know the one you’ve always dreamed of. But this is where my heart is and I want you to know - I’d marry you right this fucking second, baby or no baby.”
“Rog, I -” you began, but then the doctor walked in. 
“Well, Miss Y/L/N, it looks like you are pregnant,” she said. 
The words washed over you. Pregnant. With Roger’s baby. The dream you had always wanted since before you even knew who you were. 
“I...I am?” you asked. “Are you sure?”
She chuckled and then turned the paper in her hand to show you. 
“I’m sure,” she said. “How did you know if you hadn’t missed a period?”
You looked between her and Roger, scrambling for an answer. 
“Father Christmas told us,” he said simply.
She blinked and looked at him like she hadn’t heard him right. “Father...Christmas?”
He nodded. “Father Christmas.”
“Well, I can’t exactly argue with that, can I?” she teased, smiling again. “So, we should start you on a few things to keep you and your baby healthy…”
She went on, and you tried to pay attention, but the only thing you could think of was the life you now knew existed within you. You looked down at your stomach, thinking of how it would look in nine months. You were having a baby. With the man of your dreams. You looked up at Roger, who was listening intently to the doctor. You were so grateful that you had found him again, you felt your eyes get warm with tears.
“Y/N?” the doctor said, looking at you with concern. “Are you alright?”
You nodded and swallowed the lump in your throat.
“Yeah, um, could we just have a minute?” you choked out.
“Of course,” she agreed. “Just call me if you need anything.”
She stepped out of the room and you looked at Roger through your tears. A shaky smile formed across your lips as you met his gaze.
“We’re having a baby!” you sobbed.
You slid off the exam table and threw yourself into his arms. He laughed as he caught you. Giving you a squeeze, he closed his eyes to the feeling of you against him. This was everything he had ever wanted as well. To be with you. To have children with you. To love you for the rest of his life.
“I love you so much,” he said, choking up himself. “I’m so happy.”
“Me too,” you returned. “Happy Christmas, Roger.”
“Happy Christmas, Y/N.”
You went to dinner that night as planned, only without the champagne. While you were originally intending to celebrate your promotion to partner, you were thrilled to celebrate a more important promotion - to mother. You felt this was the one that would change you the most, and you couldn’t wait to see how.
As you and Roger walked back to your flat, you passed some carolers. Among them stood the little boy. He had a mischievous grin on his face that made you look at his father and smile. The boy looked at you and waved before running off and slowly fading out. The wave didn’t feel like a goodbye. It felt more like “see you soon.” 
You were dragged to a stop because Roger had halted on the sidewalk.
“Rog?” you asked. “What is it?”
His eyes were fixed on the spot the boy had just disappeared from.
“Was that him?” he wondered, looking at you.
“You saw him?!” you cried.
“I did!” he returned excitedly. “He just waved and ran off! Was that him?!”
“Yeah!” you told him. “That was the boy!”
You took a giddy moment together and clasped hands.
“I’ve got the feeling we won’t be seeing him again,” you said. “Until, y’know, he’s actually here.”
“This feels so surreal,” he replied. “I can’t believe we’ve seen him.”
“It does all seem to be so magical,” you agreed. “But I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy. I know you’ve done this already, so -”
He cut you off with a sweet kiss.
“Y/N, no matter how many times I’ve done this, the thrill of being a father again doesn’t get old,” he said. “And to have a baby with you….well, you’re all I’ve ever wanted. I am just as excited now as I was with Felix. Maybe even more so.”
You beamed at him.
“I love you, Roger Taylor,” you said. 
“I love you more, Y/N Y/L/N,” he returned.
You kissed there in the street, caring nothing for the busyness around you. All that mattered was the man in your arms, the baby in your belly, and the future before all three of you.
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writingsofmyimagination · 4 years ago
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Conjecture |13| The Final
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Idol Reader Au, Enemies to Lovers AU
Summary: Your management refused to renew your contract unless you collaborated, so you ending up working with Min Yoongi. A guy you’d disliked from before both of your debuts. There is more to their past than meets the eye.
Links to other parts:  | 1 |  2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 |11|12|
Last Chapter guys.... thank you for everyone that has liked and commented.... it means an awful lot. :)
Hope you guys have enjoyed the series.
Words:3304
Rating:18+
Warnings: SMUT!! (Slight exhibitionism maybe) Swearing. General sass.
Permanent Tags: @msunnsstuff  @rosey-roseu @eyelessmin @backtonormalthings
Reblog, Like, Comment
The leather straps were cooling across your chest; just as the strap was tight across your hips. You struggled, the buckles keeping you firmly stuck to the table. The white lights quietly warming the rest of your bare exposed skin. Your obliques teasing their way to the surface as you wriggled against your restraints. Cut here scissor lines decorated across the most common places women dislike about themselves. Crescents at your side, inner thighs, cupping your breast. Two figures hovering over you, crazed hunger filled looks scanning your being.
Lee Jooheon was stood over you in pale blue scrubs beneath a pearly white lab coat littered with scruffy black writing. He was stood menacing in the wielding of a scalpel while conversing animatedly with the person next to him. Im Changkyun was dressed to the brim in a perfectly fitted black suit wielding a clipboard with a picture of a barbie on. IM was shoving his fingers to the picture and then to you. Jooheon nodding intently in agreeance, scalpel still active in the air.
“CUT!” The director called. A bell vibrating round the warehouse. Jooheon immediately tearing the Velcro under the fake buckles and rushing to reach under the table for the large white dressing gown placed discreetly under the table. The basic black lace lingerie set was the only thing covering you as you hauled yourself off the table before coating yourself in white fluff.
“You good?” Changkyun asked lightly supporting you to your feet.
“All good” you affirmed.
“That was great guys, a clear cut. Scene done in one. We’ll get the stage set up and do the combined verse and Y/N’s solo then we’ll call it a day” The director confirmed. All you heard was
Break time
The three of you b-lined straight for the snack table. The crew around you slowly setting down their equipment to follow suit. A mini swarm of black tee’d crew descended onto the set working quickly to dismantle the makeshift operating room and prepare the next set.
“Glad I can finally put some clothes on” selecting the bag of wotsits crinkling over your words.
“Never thought I’d hear you say that” Yoongi’s voice creeped in from behind. The other two chuckled into their mouthfuls of carbs. Without even eyeing him your trajectory already planned to slap his arm on your rotation round. The Acne studios hat comfy on his head, the blue grey hair pressed to his forehead. Long black sweater draped over loose wash out ripped jeans which were tucked into hi top vans.
There’s a comfy boyfriend right there
“Never thought I’d see you conscious before lunch on a day off” you quipped back.
“Alright… it’s too early for your sass” Yoongi said in defeat to your ear, his arms encasing the shield of fluff around you with the sweet extra of a kiss to the forehead. His camera gentle in sway to your hip, the leather strap resting on his shoulder.
“Loved the set though” he added
More like loved the fact I was strapped down
“I’m literally kidnapping this Dr’s coat” Jooheon flicked the collar up of the coat.
Dweeb
“It’s such a cool concept” Jooheon added
“More female artists need to be speaking out about the image pressures companies force” Changkyun piped up.
“It’s 2020 dude, guys can write about it too you know” you teased
“There’s ten times more pressure on you guys though”
He was right. Your concept was the bomb though. You and your image held hostage by the agency only for you to rebel against them all accompanied by some aggressive thought-provoking rap.
What more does a girl want?
“And we’re here doing this project with you so we technically are” Changkyun added.
Also true
“You also know I wouldn’t have you let say no” One of the runners dropped your outfit off to you. You both exchanged silent polite glances.
Mid conversation you held no reservations, untying your robe. It slid off your shoulders Yoongi saving it from the floor. You shrugged on the tight-fitting scrub top. The top conveniently had slits through the fabric. Making its function as a top dubious at best. The shorts were free from any intentional rips and were nice and basic. Yoongi’s eyes flitted briefly to the ground, gaze not sure where to settle. You were still getting used the fact he wasn’t as comfortable with your skin on show as you were. Multiple times you’d teased him at how awkward and polite he still was when you were actually his.
//
“Are you sure you just didn’t want an opportunity to tie your two favourite rappers to a chair? Beside me of course” Yoongi teased as your reflection stared back at you in the mirror, mouth agape hand delicate finishing a perfect cat flick on your eyeliner.
“Jealous?” You paused the application of your makeup while teasing, the flicks won’t be ruined for anybody. Eye contact cheekily held in place.
He leaned in just a tad, enough to make his words inaudible to the fanfare around.
“Babe, you know I wish it was me. Just at home, with less clothes. You in that set I love, ooo and the way you love to ride me like that…” You shoved him away.
“Alright alright enough, don’t tease. Go over there and behave” You indicated with your pinky finger behind the camera. Puckering your blood red lipstick equally, crew swift in moving out of your way as you stepped up onto the newly built mini stage.
A lonely microphone on the small rectangular stage was all to keep you company. The two boys looking calm, jovial in their conversation to each other as you adjusted the stand to your height. Yoongi trying to shield a half-cocked smile. You flipped him off. He always liked to tease your height.
He’s not even got much on me, cheeky shit
“Ready on set!” The director boomed. Crew obedient falling silently in a heartbeat.
“Action!”
The strongly worded verse and chorus were the first lyrics you’d scribbled down in some painful PR meeting. The topic of you and your body image and how they wanted to sell it was just slowly infuriating you. You were an Idol, rapper whatever people called you now. This shit comes with the territory but the way they guy was talking about you just ruffled about every damn feather in your being.
The bell rang again and the major scuffling on set commenced. You jumped off the stage and raced to Chloe who’d returned from taking Ted for a walk. Completely bypassing Yoongi, dropping to your knees and ruffling the ball of excited fluff.
“Hey boy” you cooed, scratching the belly after the desperate drop and roll he gave you.
“Dude he wanted to play with evvveerryyyone today”
“Well he was probably excited to hang out with auntie Chlo”
“You love him” you added
“I can’t even lie about that; can your assistant be on holiday more often?” His attention quickly became focused
“You would get me into soo much trouble if you were my assistant”
“But you’d have the best time” The pair of you laughed knowing she was absolutely right.
“I’ll catch you in a bit” Giving Ted once last squeeze before you went to makeup.
All paint removed; hair now styled to perfection. Makeup fairly natural and light, the artist dabbing a pad around your cheeks catching any moisture. Heavily ripped boyfriend jeans sat at your hips finishing just at the lower end of your calves. Pristine snug white trainers cushioned the weariness of your feet. You had to change your underwear to a white set as to not show through the thin white tie up crop top. You secured the tie at your chest, even Yoongi would have to work at undoing the knot.
“Ready?” the director popped his head round the door. You responded with a bright mumble as you were mid swig of your water bottle.
“Sweet, we rolling in three”
“Seriously, how did I land you?” Yoongi purred making his way into the office converted dressing room. The artist leaving the room promptly.
“Looks good right” You agreed, puckering your lips in the mirror.
“Mmmhhhmm” he growled low at your neck; hands secured round the front of your stomach. The warm body pressed up against you.
“I love when you dress more casual” His fingertips elegant in their tip toe over your curved behind, etching their impatient way to the tie in the centre of your chest.
“Oi! Keep your hands to yourself” A weak willed play fight broke out. Yoongi going straight for where you were ticklish; leaving you completely vulnerable to him manoeuvring you round to face him.
“Careful Min Yoongi, don’t be getting yourself worked up for something you can’t have”
“Can’t have?” If stroppy pouts could melt you, you’d be in a puddle right now.
“Last I remembered you invited the boys round to mine for a recording sesh” Your stroke on his chin phased his eyes to roll regrettably.
“Pretty sure you regret giving Hobi the key now ey?” you crept the words in his ear, pressing your hand to his crotch. His cheeks puffed up, sulking against your smirk poorly disguised through your mouthfuls of water leaving the pouty boy in the dressing room.
The pout was a constant tell as much as he tried to hide behind the lenses capturing the formidable stage unit the three of you formed. The multiple takes had a thin layer of perspiration gracing the foundation on your skin. The second the final bell rang through the metal interior the three of you took a breath, or several before you bowed to all the staff before embracing the two guys. The make-up artist rushed over to where you’d sat drooping your legs on the temporary stage, padding at your face. You shooed her off prematurely, not bothering with how wisps of hair were loosely stuck to your skin.
//
“That looks ace, thank you so much guys!” You exclaimed bright as possible. The three of you snug crowded round one of the main cameras
“It was a pleasure” Their eyes both drifted off to their manager who’d stepped in a bit closer
“Well that’s our cue to leave” Changkyun mumbled the drop in his face noticeable but not obvious.
“That’s fine, don’t get yourself into trouble”
“Give him ten minutes” Jooheon quipped.
//
You’d changed into a cool and floaty navy maxi dress. You’d fought and brushed as much product out of your hair as you could and shoved it in a loose pony. With only a few of the crew left on site, the wide-open space of the rooms seemed much larger, sound travelled heavier and echoed more. Yoongi was a picture holding your large D&G holdall glitzed with the gold emblem. He held the door for you leading into the drafty stairway. The grey concrete bleak, the bright blue railings guiding their way safely down. The walls were drab and plain.
You held out your hand, offering to relieve your boyfriend of the oversized bag from his slight frame. He began to oblige, eyes not wandering from his phone. His wrist caught in your hand yanking him into you and into the back of the wall. Did he resist? Absolutely not. Did he need any more guidance, most certainly not!
“Babe…”
“Mmm” humming in between your chest where his head and kisses were firmly being planted.
“Touch me already” your arms were loose as they draped over his shoulders.
“Seriously here?” It was more of a check than a complaint. Strong eyebrow raised.
Fucking yes
The hem of your dress slowly crept up your leg, crumpling up over his hand. His lips nearly caressing yours, the warmth of his breath rolling over your skin. The knowing smile escaped onto your features
“Fuck babe!”
“What?...mmm” your tone creeping higher feigning innocence. His fingers ghosting at the apex of your thighs. The bundle of nerves buzzing at the slight contact, he brushed his cheek to yours
“It’s too warm for underwear” you whined, still pleading innocence. Yoongi knew better, knew the lack of innocence you actually held.
“I’m calling bullshit” Your head gently rolled back into the wall.
“I’m reallllyy not complaining…” he added pushing a bit more of his weight into you, growling into your neck. Your grip tightening round his neck.
“Well let’s play a game of hurry the…mmm fuck up” you urged, teasing his fingers hard against you. The way his hips jutted feeling the rush of how much you wanted him.  With the heat combusting through the heavy kisses, the air was thick and blissfully suffocating. Engulfed in heat he dragged your body round. It was your turn to be shoved hard against the cool concrete
“Careful…” you choked between laboured breathes.
“You’ll give yourself a problem we won’t have time to fix”
“My only problem is not hearing you moan my name” Aggressive hands crept back round the front hoisting your dress back up.
Metal clinked; voices echoed. Heartbeat petrified still in your chest.
Innocent coughs smuggling smiles, arms linked as the last of the camera crew polite in their bow as the gave passage to you.
“Thank you, you worked hard” you responded in kind as Yoongi let you take the lead single file past the biggest cock blockers of the year.
//
“UUUGGHH” you whined slamming your head back into the head rest as Yoongi parked the Land rover in your bay in the gated underground parking of your building.
“I’m soo sorry babe, you know I want to finish this track with Hobi and Joon…I promise I’ll make you…What are you doing?”
Knitted eyebrows with brown pools twinkling with rare mischief that only glistened with you. Like the first time he decided to be brave and go down on you in a dressing room. He’d missed you a hell of a lot, too much apparently for even unbothered Yoongi to take control.
You’d shuffled and maneuvered yourself to the back seat dropping to the chair with a success filled sigh.
“I don’t want to wait until later” A teasing lip bite was all he needed to be scrambling into the backseat to join you. The tinted windows offering you more privacy than what waited for you in the apartment.
“And what I want I get” Your legs were already snug on either side of his hips
“Don’t I know it” His hands already ruffling up your dress as your hands dived desperate to unhook his jean buttons.
You secured his hands round the back of the head rest
“Stay” you urged; hands remained obedient as yours went to elicit controlled groans from his throat as your hand wrapped around him. The need between your legs grew, your bites of his lower lip grew harder, hips rocking against a frustrating nothing. Your ponytail got pulled back sharply. Yoongi apparently had enough of you torturing yourself and him
“Turn around and let me feel you now”
“My hands not good enough for you anymore?”
“Not when I know your just desperate for my cock”
Fair point
Agreeing with complete compliance, invested in his way of thinking. You swept your hair to the front of your shoulder. Following a hard grunt, a deep wet kiss was pressed to shoulder blade you needed to take a beat adjusting to him.
“Mmpphh” you both grunted, head falling forward. Hand grappling behind looking to hook onto any part of him. Palm closing in on his thin waist. Circle movements heavy in your hip
“Better? Is that all my baby wanted hmm?”
“Mmmhmm…Just you” you choked as his hips jutted upwards.
“Yeah?” hair weaved in the long genius fingers tugged hard lips, soft teeth not so on your neck.
“Use me then”
Oh I’m going to
His hand not leaving your hair, hips refusing to offer you anything. The filth Yoongi whispered in controlled pants still offered the motivation for your movements. Every time Yoongi felt the tensing of your thighs or your moans reached a certain pitch too high he couldn’t help but buck up into you. The dusting of a chuckle would ease in through his grunts at your cries.
He wanted to tease. The grip in your hair, the honey on his smirk and the slight growl in the background of his words told you that. Min Yoongi was now unbothered about keeping his friends waiting.
Not today
“Min Yoongi if you don’t make me…mmm… cum in the next 10 minutes…fuuuck” His fingers now tight between your legs, each burst of movement causing you to clench round him with a desperate tension.
“Your body is telling me you need a lot less than ten princess. I certainly don’t”
“Prove it” you challenged. A Challenge you knew he’d destroy in minutes. The air seemed to dissipate from the car, the heat instead hovering round the two of you. Goosebumps erupted all over your skin. Legs beginning to store the tension building up like Jenga blocks in your muscles. Back arching into him forming the perfect crescent. Your moans escalating both in pitch and volume rattled through his brain, trickling in hot drips down his spine adding the pressure within him to breaking point. A breaking point which spilled over before he could gain any control. The hand secured round your pony tail released and dropped to your shoulders with his head following suit, a few heavy breaths later
“I’m sorry… baby, you just feel too good”
“Turn around again baby”
“Do I need to do some more training with you? Your stamina is …” you teased hasty in your shuffle round, hasty to not let your climax slip to nothing.
“Probably” he confessed
“Thought…Mmhmm”
“Just be quiet and let me make you cum”.
//
The tips of Yoongi’s hair were damp, you tried to ruffle it but the damp ends still reflected against the midday sun. Your selfie camera informed you that out of the two of you, you were the only one that didn’t look like they’d just fucked in a car. Unfortunately for Yoongi his face always flushes a cute tinted light red. He hated it. You thought it was hilarious.
“Will you please do a better job of not smirking, you know how observant Hobi is” Yoongi scolded, amusement drained from his face.
“Sorry…” you chuckled. You passed your hand over your face, smirk disappearing. Normal face trying to hold while your hand pressed down on the handle. You were met with silence for a few seconds before you had Ted bounding for you. Soon followed by Joon and Hobi who had been sat on their phones on the sofa. The TV was a silent black.
“I said you guys can treat this as your own space when you’re here, no need to sit in silence” You reminded half chuckling swiping Ted off his feet into your arms.
“I know, I know” Joon acknowledged.
“Sorry we were late, shoot ran over” Ted was put back to scrambling excitedly at your feet as you maneuvered your way to the fridge. Your eyes shot to Hobi, controlled by the unconscious notion if anyone was going to pick up on your white lie it would be him. His eyes were hovering on Yoongi for more than they should.
“It’s alright we get it” With Hobi’s smile being as sweet and as kind as it was. It was hard to decipher.
“You guys okay to chill for like five more minutes while I grab a quick shower” Yoongi checked.
“I’ll even but the TV on for you” he added. At this point you’d already disappeared and enjoying the hot water streaming across your skin.
“Sure, don’t let that run over too though” Hobi jested emphasising the ‘run’.
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argumentl · 4 years ago
Text
The Freedom of Expression Ep 3 - Michelin Star related suicide.
K: Hi, this is Dir en grey's Kaoru, getting started with the third episode of The Freedom of Expression.
J, T: Yep.
K: Joe Yokomizu san and Tasai san are here again. So, how are we doing, after the second time?
Kami:*interrupts*
J: Ah, He's cutting in early today.
Kami: Yes, yes, yes. Im thinking a lot about my timing.
J: You're entering from every possible angle?
Kami: Yes, thats it.
K: What do you think after the first two episodes? We are on our third today, but does it seem interesting?
K: As a god, im kinda out of things to say.
J: Really?
Kami: Yep
J: You would think a god would know about all sorts of things.
Kami: I don't know all that much. *K laughs* Im studying, Im working on it.
T: Last time, the suspicion arose that he was poverty stricken, didnt it?
J: Yes, he pointed out he was a poverty stricken god.
Kami: I told you not to say that! *K laughs*
T: Sorry..
Kami: Its a problem.
K: After we finished last time, we ended up talking a lot about money, didn't we?
J: Yes, we did. *everyone laughing*
Kami: Yep, yep.
J: After the recording, Kami spoke non stop about money, didn't he? He is really attached to it..for a god. You'd think he'd be the one least interested in that, but he turns out to be the one most interested.
Kami: It wasn't that bad until then. It wasn't like that back on the radio show. It really has become a problem recently.
J: Oh now?
T: I see.
Kami: Yes, now.
K: Right, well, our third episode...
J: Yes, the title is 'Suicide resulting from Michelin stars - In the lawsuit of a former 3 star Michelin star chef, the court rules that....'
This is concerning the Michelin guide which was even popularised in a TV drama last year. In its country of origin, France, there is so much pressure, the fear of losing a star can even lead to suicide. A Chef who lost his third star even filed a lawsuit against Michelin. As for the specific story, Marc Veyrat, who runs the famous restaurant 'La Maison des Bois' in the Alps, recieved the long awaited 3 star rating in 2018. Just one year later, this dropped to a 2 star rating. Veyrat responded angrily, 'The quality of my food hasn't changed at all. Its a mistake in the inspection', and brought the case against Michelin. As well as demading the inspector's qualifications and the report to be made public, as his demotion has led to him to  falling into a state of depression, he is suing Michelin for the sum of just 1 Euro, or in yen, 120 yen. He has been telling the media of his discontent that the inspectors could not recognize the cheese Reblochon, from the Savoy region, and probably mistook it for the widely produced cheddar cheese. Nanterre courthouse in the suburbs of Paris responded, that as well as the evaluation of the inspector coming down to freedom of expression, the plaintiff did not show good enough reason that  his reputation had been marred. The famous chef was defeated, but the agony of chefs over the star rating is becoming a problem in society. By the way, simply put, the standard for the inspection, or the standard for the stars, is the food only. Not the restaurant interior, or the service. The food is assessed on the following five criteria. 1) The quality of the ingrediants. 2) The level of skill and amount of seasoning. 3) Originality. 4) Cost performance. 5) The consistency of the presented dishes on the whole. This is the same all over the world. As for the meaning of the stars, this is as follows. One star = Food that is particularly delicious within its category. Two stars = Spectacular food that is worth making a detour to have it. Three stars = Excellent food that is worth specifically traveling just to have it. The report is produced by a group consisting of the inspectors, the chief editor and all other responsible parties for the Michelin guide book. Every year they recieved around 45,000 emails and letters from thier readers, which they look through, and sometimes even do re-evaluations. ....Food!
K: Food...
J: Yep...I mean, reputation really controls which restaurants we go to.  Kaoru, what do you think?
K: Hmm, well, its an inspection isnt it?
J: Yes, its an inspection.
K: I was in Paris last year. There are loads of these aren't there? * the others laugh*
J: Well, yes. So, he didn't change anything about his food, but his rating still dropped, whats that all about?
K: Isn't it precisely because he didn't do anything new?
J: Oh, could it be that? If others are upping thier game, you will naturally drop.
K: There couldn't really be someone who mistook it for mass produced cheddar cheese.
J: You'd think, wouldn't you?
K: And then, maybe people are just different, no matter what it is. Even if its the same person..
J: Maybe they were feeling bad or something..
K: Hmm, an inspection is...Well, if it was sports or combat sport or something..the observers can easily judge the game, like..oh this one definitely won...But with music, or movies....appraisals of 'things', its different depending on the person isnt it.
J: Yes, you're right.
K: This type of guide is for people who want to expand thier knowledge, the Michelin guide ...For movies it would be the Academy Awards, and there are tv shows doing the same thing.  Its just to make things easier for people...so, in the end, it seems like it can't be helped really.
J: Well, thats it, yes. I dont know about Michelin, but Im in the position to do album reviews, so im in the place to award stars...and, its true, if its a genre you like, you just naturally like it, and are prone to jacking up the stars, but if its a genre you don't listen to, you feel unfamiliar and it takes a while to figure out whether its good or bad. So certainly, as for awarding stars.. asking people, well, im just repeating what you said Kaoru, its not objective information. You have to try and think about the aim. If the orgainisation drops a star from you it doesn't necessarily mean you are bad..
K: Its like a contest or that type of thing, you can still see who's winning the game..
J: Like 1-1, you can see whos winning in front of you, the circumstances are a little different from this though.
K: Eventually, won't it affect thier sales though?
J: I think so.
T: Don't you think diners also rely too much on this kind of guide?
K: You can check anything on your smartphone, you don't really know whats true.
J: You don't, there are these restaurant review sites where some people are paid to write good reviews, and some people are paid to write bad reviews, you know, to destroy thier rivals they will write bad stuff...So its difficult to know how far to trust that type of thing. By the way, Kaoru, do you refer to reviews in relation to food, or new music or anything like that?
K: Well, I do, yes. Guides and such...Usually, I  get information I want to know from all over the place. I ask people, like..'I want to eat this', or 'I wonder if that place is good' or something,  I ask people what they think.
T: But when you want to go to see a movie, do you ask someone who likes movies?
K: I'll read what someone has written about it, or I'll read what they've posted on social media.
J: The main thing is listening to people you can trust.
K: Yes, thats it.
J: Someone you are familiar with, or some well-informed person. Also someone you see eye to eye with.
T: Thats right.
J: If you go out for food with someone, and they say 'this is delicious', if you ask them what else they like, it will be the same kind of things that you like.
K: Really, I've never been to a two star or three star Michelin restaurant * the others laugh*.
J: Well, this internet age isn't going to end...
T: Right
J: Just how far will people trust this kind of assesment, or star rating?
T: Joe, have you ever been hassled by anyone because of this? By artists or such?
J: I havn't actually...I write what I didn't personally like, and sign my name with a star rating, then, 'this is what I think, but what do YOU think', to continue the conversation.
K: Our boss in our office, he was in a band a long time ago, and he got angry about something that was written in a magazine, so he stormed over to the magazine headquarters * the others laugh*  He might ????*1
J,T: Your boss, wow!
J: What was the magazine?
K: Oh, I don't remember..*laughing*
J: Which of them has the freedon of expression? *laughing*
K: They are both clashing with each other.
J: The moment their freedom clashed *laughs*
T: But, Ive heard that kind of story before...A hip hop artist or something, went to a magazine and tried to restrain or kidnap the editor. He took it that seriously.
J: Well, in a music magazine, if you write an article, its the same with interviews, you dont know whether the other party will see or hear it. For me, after editing, I think its good to show it to the artist once. Im only writing my ideas, and there are times where thats not the reality.
For interviews, you dont necessarily hand over the questions in advance, and if im just asking at random, the artist may feel on the spot and not be able to say what they really feel, so i think its good to show them once, to get the facts right.  With reviews too, i think showing them what i intend to write is important. But there are magazines where the boss doesnt get the content checked, 'you said it, so take responsibility', kind of thing. Thats a bit harsh, i think.
T: Well, yes. With interviews, I think its good to show the person. Protecting freedom should be kept independent.
J: Yes, yes, you are free to write what you think, but this is also keeping it real by checking if artists are holding responsibility for what they say. They decide whether they can really say that after checking it first.
K: There are times when you wish you'd used more words..
J: There are! Of course, its limited to the time and place of the interview, for example 1 hour, the time is squeezed. You have to get on with it, with little explanation..sometimes you need to supplement that.
T: Yes, you're right.
K: What do you think, Kami?
J: Kamiii?
Kami: *stifled laugh* Yes, what?
J: I don't know how to address him.
Kami: No no, don't worry about that, we are short on time.
K: Yes, our third installment is ending.
J: It felt quick today..somehow.
K: Originally, one episode was supposed to have two news items.
J: Yeah, i thought that.
K: But it didn't work that way, did it?
J: No, it didnt. What do the viewers think? Is one item enough? Or do they want two items at a faster pace?
K: If its too long, they won't be able to watch it.
J,T: Right.
T: A shorter video is better.
J: As for raising the number of views, right?
K: We talk about quite difficult stuff too, we should try to break into it as much as we can, make it interesting. Oh, and Kami, even his voice is interesting.
J: Its enough.
K: Well, that was the third installment, please tune in next time.
K, J, T: Thank you very much.
*1 I couldn't catch this. 
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muwur · 4 years ago
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Hiii and welcome!! May I please request for the lovable annoying baby Hinata who has a HUGE crush on this popular girl in his class and one day she sees him at the mall or something and rushes to him begging him to pretend to be her boyfriend because there’s a group of guys that won’t leave her alone and that’s when she finally realizes that this gorgeous sweetheart exists and Hinata is just on cloud 9 the entire time but then he remembers it’s all fake :((((( teeeee
✿ pretend boyfriend pt. 1
♡ scenario ♡ for hinata
❧ fem reader
✎ 3.2k words
a/n: aw hello ty for the welcome <3 also this request made me cackle AAHAHAHAHA. also this format is interesting lolol, im so indecisive about how i want it
anyways, hope u enjoy hehe >.> this came out a lot longer than i had originally planned but did i even have a plan in the first place buut i aint complaining LOL
also yes theres going to be a pt 2 firhfnxfwifj hehe
requests: open! pls bbys dun b shy i have summer skool soon fml i need this to make me procrastinate on work LMAO
-having been preoccupied with volleyball, crushes never crossed Hinata’s mind
-however, he was about to find out that he was quite clueless when it came to love
-he found himself speeding to school on his bike one morning, riding at breakneck speed to try to make it on time
-ahhhh, i was so excited about the first day of going to karasuno and seeing their volleyball team that i couldnt sleep until 4 am...!
-that explains why he overslept
-lost in his thoughts, he nearly failed to notice the girl who was walking in front of him
-and so, at the very last minute, he swerved. i nto a tree.
- “oh my gosh! are you okay??”
-if he wasn’t okay before, now he’s cURED because the most beautiful girl was looking down at him with an outstretched hand, concern in her eyes
-he jumped up instead and waved his arms in front of himself, blushing and nodding, “y-yeah, I’m fine! don’t worry about me, a-are you okay??”
- “you’re the one who crashed into the tree!” you responded with shock as you moved to pick up his bike off the ground (luckily, it was undamaged)
-he took the handlebars after you offered them to him
-you frowned slightly. “i’m sorry, i should’ve watched where i was going. are you hurt?”
-he was too busy gawking at you to realize his head started bleeding
-cue you yelling frantically “y-your head! it’s bleeding!” and rushing him to the nurse’s office
-in his head: ‘i-im holding her hand’
-nearly combusted on spot
-and that was how he met you
-later he found out he actually shared the same class with you!
-though you never seemed to notice LOL
-you sat on the opposite side of the room, closer to the front of the class
-he sat all the way in the back, so it’s not like you would’ve really seen him but it was the perfect spot for hinata to stare at you and not pay attention to class
-and during breaks or when the teacher left the room for a few minutes, everyone around you would try to spark up a conversation with you
-oh how he wished he could make you smile and laugh like that too
-and whenever he saw you outside of class, he hid immediately (behind walls, doors, lockers, people *coughkageyamacough* “hinata boke!”, etc) and admired you from afar, way too nervous to approach you after your first encounter several weeks ago
-he just kNOWS he’ll do something stupid and end up a stuttering, blushing mess
-besides, you probably forgot who he was ;((
-one day at lunch, he hid behind yamaguchi, who was confused until he followed hinata’s intent gaze to your form, which was walking by in front of the pair
-kageyama, who also took notice, smiled devilishly
- “pfffft, she’d never glance your way”
- tsukki deadpanned, “you don’t stand a chance. she’s way too pretty for you and people are lining up just to talk to her”
-cue hinata fighting kags n tsukki, blushing and with tears pricking at his eyes
- “aw, guys, don’t be so mean, I think he just has a crush!” yams snickered what an angel (no i am not in love w this man)
-one weekend, hinata was out in a nearby shopping area to get some snacks for natsu cuz she wouldn’t stop bugging him about it (“you ate the rest of my candy, so you have to go get me some more!”)
-as he was leaving the store, hand in his bag, he felt a tug on his sleeve and heard a “psst”
-some higher being must’ve blessed him that day because here he was, face to face with the girl who’s been on his mind everyday for several weeks
-sdgfhjkljihyuitufjhk
-error.exe
-he opened his mouth to say something, maybe like a:
-“h-hey! you look familiar, I totally don’t know your name or think about you before i sleep at night, s-so hOWS the weather???”
-but before he could humiliate himself speak, you gave him a small smile and asked, “aren’t you the guy i took to the nurse after you crashed into that tree?”
- “y-yeah, that was me!” he stuttered out
-he was trying so hard to keep his cool, but he could feel his palms get sweaty and his body quiver with pANIC
-you stifled a giggle with your hand (hinata: so cute dfghjfgljkl) "im glad to see you’re doing well. sorry, i never introduced myself. my name’s y/n, what’s yours?”
-you extended your hand as a greeting
-yet all he could do was stare at it, dumbfounded
-the two brain cells he owned said we ouTTIE
- “my name’s hinata!” he yelled dramatically for no reason. “sorry, my hand’s a bit sweaty, otherwise i would shake yours!” so instead, he bent forward in a bow
-eyes wide at his sudden outburst and gesture, you laughed in response and waved a hand, “it’s okay, really! nice to meet you again, hinata”
-a few moments of silence passed by, he was still bending over, and you were looking at your surroundings awkwardly
-risking a glance up, he caught a nervous expression on your face, and it made his eyebrows furrow in concern
- “hey, are you okay?” he asked as he straightened his body
-nice. smooth and direct.
-you sheepishly looked at the ground and absentmindedly itched the side of your head, twirling a strand of hair with your finger
- “this is kinda embarrassing, but um... could you do me a favor? i promise it’s nothing too bad!”
-little do you know he would literally do aNYthing for you right now
- “of course!” he replied a little too quickly. “w-what is it?”
- “soooo, i ran into these guys from school earlier, and they won’t stop bothering me, especially this one guy. a lot of girls like him and think he’s cool, but he’s such a jerk! i honestly don’t know what they see in him. he’s been so insistent on dating me the past few weeks that i try to avoid him as much as possible...”
-you shyly looked up at him and he had to refrain from exploding
- “could you please, uh, pretend to be my boyfriend?”
-b-b-b-boYFrIeNd??
- “y-y-y-your b-b-b-boyf-f-friend?” he managed to sputter
-you clasped your two palms together in front of your face like a prayer and leaned forward slightly, closing your eyes. “just for today, i promise! i remember you were really sweet when i first met you, so i thought i could ask you! i need to get a few things and i know he’s still around here, so i might run into him and his friends again. also, earlier, i uh... kinda told him i had a boyfriend to see if he would back off, but i think it just made him angrier...”
-you were talking a bit too fast for hinata’s nonexistent brain to process, but he got the gist
-basically, he needed to pretend to be your boyfriend in front of some guy that wouldn’t leave you alone
-it almost sounded like a dream come true
-except for the fact this was all fake and he wasn’t actually your boyfriend
-BUT HE GOT TO TALK TO YOU AND PRETEND TO BE SOMETHING HE WANTED TO BE
-AND PROTECT YOU
-AND HE GOT TO TALK TO YOU
-but...
- “err, how do i do that?”
-you looked back up at him questioningly. “do what?”
-he looked off to the side in embarrassment. “w-well, i’ve never really dated anyone, so i’m not sure how to act and make it believable...”
-you clasped his hands making him even more flustered and jumped up in excitement
- “so you’ll do it??”
-he could only manage to nod in response
- “great! ahhhh, thank you so much! you don’t know how much i appreciate this! as for the acting... well, we just have to do couple-y things. y’know, hold hands, stand close to one another, feed each other, take pictures together, kiss, all that stuff. just follow my lead!”
-did his ears deceive him?
-did you just say
-kISS??
-he?? was going to get?? to?/ kisS yOu?//dfokgjif
-he definitely looked like an idiot right now
-wide eyes glazed over, mouth opened slightly for the soul leaving his body, a grey and sickly pale complexion, stomach twisting from nerves and butterflies
-noya and tanaka would be so jealous
-and possibly kill him so they could replace him as your pseudo boyfriend
- “hinata? what’s wrong, d-did i say something?”
-your concerned voice brought him back to earth
-gazing into your cute, confused eyes, he took a deep breath and exhaled
- ‘im acting so uncool right now! y/n needs my help!’
-he mustered up the courage to flash you a determined smile and a thumbs up. “i’ll be the best fake boyfriend you could ever ask for!”
-you could’ve sworn you felt your heart skip a beat
-you chuckled at his genuine display and smiled back. “then in that case, would you mind tagging along as i pick up a few things?”
-he could barely hold himself together when you clasped his hand and scooted close to him
-so close he could smell a pleasant scent wafting from you
- ‘i cant believe this is happening im holding her hand agAIN was this meant to be—‘
-and then his mind went blank for like the hundredth time in the last several minutes
-he followed you around, trying to steady his rapidly beating heart and ignore the warmth that remained on his cheeks
-how could you be so calm when you two were holding hands for so long?? (kags: it means she doesnt like u)
-he was both elated and terrified at the same time
-hinata couldn’t help but relish the way your fingers felt interlocked with your own
-how you slightly swung your arms together as you walked
-the way your eyes shone as you talked so casually with him
-the crinkle of your eyes and the sweet sound of your laugh when he said something that was apparently funny
- ‘fjjkdjnf i made her laugh‘
-he couldn’t help but notice the way your hair brushed your face when you leaned forward to inspect an item on a shelf
- “this is kinda cute, don’t you think?” you held up a small plush of a hedgehog
- “y-yeah, adorable!” but i’m not talking about the hedgehog
-it was no surprise to him, really, to see why you were so popular with everyone
-what’s not there to like? aside from your stunning beauty and intelligence, you were naturally charming and radiated an aura that just drew others in
-two hours passed and you both ended up sitting at a table, hands linked together across the table’s surface
- “ah, i need to answer this,” you breathed out, letting go of his hand to rummage your bag and answer your ringing phone
-ngl his hand was already getting cold and he missed your touch
-after a few nods and short replies, you ended the call and stood up
- “well, now that i’ve gotten everything, i have to head home now. ..”
- “oh... i-i mean, oh, alright! uhh, it was nice um, shopping with you!”
-his heart sank a bit now that this blissful time had come to an end
-disappointment seeped in hello darkness my old friend
-you, too, were a bit dismayed. you never expected to have enjoyed your time with him that much
-how come you never saw him at school? you definitely would’ve loved to get to know him more...
- “y-yeah, i had a good time, too! er, shopping, i mean! thanks again for following me around, though. you’re really sweet, hinata. i don’t know what i would’ve done without your help...”
- ‘come on, this is your chance!’
-boyo took another deep breath and opened his mouth to say, “y/n, could we do this again som--”
- “y/n! heyyy, i’ve been looking for you, sweet cheeks!”
-you both whipped around to see a group of guys approaching your table
-quickly, you pulled hinata close to you and whispered in his ear, “act natural.”
-nAtUral?????
-nodding, he stood up straighter and hesitantly snaked an arm around your waist
-then stiffened in fear when you were both surrounded by a group of guys who were all way taller than him
-you gave the boys a suspicious eye and scooted closer into hinata’s touch
-“what do you want? for the last time, i am not going out with you. don’t you know anything about respecting other people? besides, i’m already with someone,” you huffed
-the one in the front cocked an eyebrow at the sight of you two
-he had silky dark hair, smooth skin, a captivating gaze, and a smirk that could creep right under your skin
-“you expect me to believe small fry’s your boyfriend? him? with YOU? you could do so much better, buttercup. I could make you feel so good.”
-hinata could tell this guy was bad news. really bad news. he was the type who wouldn’t take no for an answer
- ‘ahhh, what do i do?? if i just stand here, he’s gonna keep harassing her! and possibly even hurt her...’
-the guy inched closer to you, much to your obvious discomfort as you stepped back, and he reached out to touch your cheek
-but hinata was quicker, and he slid in front of you before the guy could lay a finger on you
- “leave her alone! she obviously wants nothing to do with you.”
-the fiery glint in his eye was almost enough to make the other guy back off, but his pride wouldn’t let him
-angry, he instead grabbed fistfuls of hinata’s collar and spat in his face, “say that again, shorty.”
-hinata continued to stare into the other guy’s eyes daringly and grabbed a hold of his wrist in response
- “she said no. quit harassing a girl who’s made it clear she’s not interested, or else.”
- “or else what.”
-his grip on the guy’s wrist tightened and his eyes sharpened. “you’ll have to get through me, first.”
- “tch,” the taller male scoffed. he let go of hinata, pushing him back and glaring as he did so. then he glanced over at you still standing behind the orange-haired boy
- “bet you’ll get bored of shortstack over here soon enough. i’ll be waiting,” he remarked with a wink
-then he and his friends turned and walked away, disappearing from view
-hinata, who’s been running on pure adrenaline during this whole encounter, then collapsed on the floor from all the excitement and terror he tried to contain
- “h-hinata?!” you gasped, using your arms to support his sluggish body
- “ahhh... i thought he’d at least swing at me, but i got lucky...”
-he sounded breathless
-however, the last thing he expected was the soft press of your lips on his cheek
- “thank you, hinata. i really appreciate the way you stood up for me back there. no one’s ever really done that for me.”
-how many times can you die and come back to life in the same day?? p sure hinata’s broken the record for that by now
- “o-o-o-of course! i couldn’t just let him keep thinking that going after you like this is o-okay! i-i didn’t even do much, i-i mean you’ve been standing up to this guy for weeks, this was the least i could do to help--”
-and you were huGGING HIM
-he awkwardly returned the gesture, eyes wide with shock as he patted your back
- “i mean it. thank you. i hope he backs off, but...” you bit your lip and pulled away
- “w-what’s wrong...?”
-you sighed. “i have a feeling he’s still going to be bothering me for a while. i hate to ask this of you, but...”
- “could you pretend to be my boyfriend for a bit longer? at least until he gets the hint and stops...?”
-did this mean...
- ‘dating’ you at scHOOL???
-kageyama and tsukki will never let him live it down, he could already imagine their comments
- “why’d she pick you of all people for this job?? you’re so?? you???”
- “couldn’t she have chosen to be with someone more believable??”
-he shook his head from his thoughts
- “i-is that a no?” you asked worriedly
- “n-no! i mean, yes! i mean, ignore that! i can pretend for as long as you need, y/n.”
- “ahhh, thank you so much, hinata! i promise i’ll treat you to something in return!” you brought him back in a hug, swaying side to side in glee
-you both stood up after you let go. “we should exchange numbers!” you suggested
- ‘oh my gawd, im getting her number rdftegiuofref’
-tanaka and noya would be so proud tho
-you quickly typed down your contact information on his phone before handing it back to him. “alright, here you go, just give me a text! i have to go now.”
-you picked up your bags and gave him a parting smile. “i’ll see you at school! get home safe!”
-and with that, you were on your way
-he stood there and watched as you left, holding onto the cheek you had kissed earlier
-he couldn’t believe it
extra:
-he had texted you after he got home, giggling like a lovesick preteen (was he not thooo LOL) as he was reading your messages and sharing memes with you
y/n 乁( ⏒ ͜ʖ ⏒ )ㄏ : oh ye btw, who’s your teacher? also, where do you usually hang out? just so i know where to find you. i never c u around school for som reason
me: oh rlly? thats strange... (pretending like he doesnt hide from you lol) im usually in the courtyard during lunch or in the gym for volleyball practice, and i have class with ms. akio
y/n 乁( ⏒ ͜ʖ ⏒ )ㄏ : WE’RE IN THE SAME CLASS??? omg im so sorry, i never noticed :((
me: oh no its okay! i sit all the way in the back, so
y/n 乁( ⏒ ͜ʖ ⏒ )ㄏ : well, i’ll make sure to greet you next time :) ! we’ll be seeing each other a whole lot more now, so
-he was still smiling like an idiot when natsu burst open his bedroom door
- “where’s my candy?!”
-shit, you probably took it with all your other bags by accident
- “uhhh....”
- “shoyooooo! you owe me, big time!”
-he rolled his eyes. “yeah, yeah, i know, i’m sorry, i’ll buy you twice as much tomorrow.”
-he went back to typing away at his phone
-natsu raised her eyebrows in curiosity. “whatcha doinnn?”
- “nothing, go away.”
- “you’ve been on your phone all day!”
- “and?”
- “are you talking to a giiirrrlllll?”
- “n-no!”
- “then why are you blushinggg?? moommm! shoyo has a girlfriend!” then she added to her brother, “can i see her?? is she pretty??”
-he just groaned, putting a hand up to his face to cover his blush, and nodded
a/n: OKAY this def took me longer than i thot AAHAHA but no ragrets. ty for your request, anon, i rlly enjoyed writing this and i hope you liked it! there will be a part 2, ill try to get that done soon >.> stay tuned hehe. msg me or send me an ask if you wanna be in the taglist cx <3 have a great day or night, lovelies, wherever you are
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is-it-art-tho · 4 years ago
Link
Summary: After a truly crappy week, Bats and Jim decide they could both use a breather.
Jim Gordon sighed as he leaned back heavily against the brick wall, slick with freezing rain that had just begun to fall. He popped his collar as a bitter wind sliced through his duster to cut straight to the bone. His old joints ached in protest against the cold and he hissed a cursed, rubbing his eyes under his glasses.
It had been an exceptionally rough week, the kind that made him long for the early days, back when the worst things he had to worry about were petty drug dealers and domestic assault cases. Back then, most officers didn’t even wear Kevlar half the time. They walked the streets armed with a badge and a rarely used gun and felt invincible, wholly confident in their ability to stand between the public and those who meant to do harm. Back then, the uniform and the badge had been enough – more than enough to discourage most crime, and where the uniform and badge failed, it didn’t take much more to straighten things out.
But now as he watched as a dozen officers struggled to drag Killer Croc’s unconscious body out of the harbor, he couldn’t help but scoff at the hellish circus the city had become. Now most officers didn’t wear Kevlar, not out of a sense of safety, but rather a sense of futility. Standing against Croc or Bane or even Freeze, Kevlar would only slow the inevitable.
Some time not too long ago, a new darkness had spilled over the city like rain, and a wicked breed of evil had crept up from the sewers in its wake, ushering a new, horrible era that even now he couldn’t begin to explain, let alone accept. It was the stuff of nightmares; the sort of horrors that now plagued the city on a near constant basis used to be considered “once in a lifetime.”
But this week - this godforsaken week - had been one for the books, even in Gotham.
Jim’s phone chimed and he spared a glance from the scene in front of him to peek at the notification. It was a confirmation message letting him know that Harley and the Penguin had been safely returned to Arkham. Croc was basically as good as done at this point, which left only Ivy to worry about. Last he’d heard, his guys had her cornered in a plant nursery at the natural sciences museum. It was by no means an ideal location for a standoff with her, but Batman was there too, which just about evened the odds as much as anything anyone could hope for. It was the only reason he wasn’t on his way there now. That, and the fact that he was fairly certain that even if he left now and blew through every stop on the way there, he’d get there long after the fight was over, for better or worse. Fights with Ivy were fierce, but rarely very long.
Jim sighed again and tapped a cigarette free from the pack. The gentle thump and scuff of boots on damp pavement behind him only proved his point, and he said without turning around, “Ivy?”
“Neutralized.” Batman stepped forward so that they were side by side, coughing slightly, his eyes on Croc.
The officers had been trying to work by sheer manpower alone for nearly twenty minutes before Bullock, sweating an irritated, finally shouted, “For the love of– just rig ‘im up to one of the trucks already!” Now a few chains were looped onto Croc’s pants, the other ends hooked onto the back of a fire engine, and they were slowly backing him out of the water.
Jim noticed Batman’s arm wrapped around his torso, clutching his side. He assumed the gesture was meant to be inconspicuous, hidden almost entirely under the thick cape, and knowing Batman, it could mean anything from a simple bruise to a punctured lung. Or worse.
Without another word, he shook free a second cigarette and held it out.
“I don’t smoke,” Batman said.
“Humor me.”
To Jim’s mild surprise, and perhaps underscoring his belief that this had in fact been a spectacularly awful week, Batman took the cigarette and held it while Jim lit both of them.
It didn’t escape the older man’s notice that the black gloved hand trembled slightly, and Jim knew enough about the insulation of the suit, having seen Batman stand comfortably in significantly harsher conditions, to know that it wasn’t from the cold.
Batman took a slow drag, the butt flaring then fading again in the darkness, and exhaled a cloud of smoke and condensation into the frosty air.
They stood like that for a while, wrapped in silence as they watched the officers work. Well, to be fair Jim was only half-watching the officers, one eye glued to Batman. He smelled faintly botanical, sweet like nectar but also bitter and sharp like vinegar and acid. Small patches of his cape were missing, ragged holes that looked reminiscent of burn marks, and a light dusting of gold covered most of his body. Pollen, Jim assumed.
So, she’d put up a hell of a fight then.
“You’re staring, Jim.”
The older man jumped like a child caught stealing a cookie and redirected his gaze to the scene. “Christ,” he muttered, rubbing his neck somewhat sheepishly. “Here I thought I was being slick.”
Batman dropped the cigarette and snuffed it into the wet pavement. “Was there anything else?”
“No, thank God. I think that’s everything.”
“Then you should get home. Get some rest,” Batman said, turning to leave.
It was one of the few times Jim had had the chance to actually watch Batman leave rather than be left talking to the open air. He watched the man reach for a grapple beneath his cape and felt something drop into the pit of his stomach as he thought about the ride home.
No, he couldn’t go home. It was something Jim had learned soon after he’d gotten married, back when he was still new to the job. He couldn’t go straight home after a rough night. No matter how much he might want to, he knew he needed to get his head on straight before he walked through the door. Make sure he was ready to interact, to be a father and a husband, to be with his family. Otherwise, the events of the night clung to him like smoke, wafting with him from room to room and turning him into something dour and unapproachable. It wasn’t fair to his family or anyone around him, and he’d learned that the hard way, but he’d learned it all the same.
But this was one of those unique nights where the thought of being alone was almost worse. The way his mind was racing, had been racing for the past few days, the last thing he wanted was to be left to his own devices. To think about all the ways he’d screwed up, all the people who had been endangered or worse because of a clue he’d missed, a decision he’d made too slowly or blown all together. He would sit and he would think and he would descend into self-flagellation until he was just about ready to hand in his letter of resignation and fling himself into the harbor. It was a well-trodden path at this point, and one he didn’t want to revisit.
So, in a last-ditch attempt to salvage what was left of the night, Jim found himself asking, “Where are you headed?”
Batman paused and tossed a curious look over his shoulder. It was hard to tell through the mask, but Jim got the feeling he had an eyebrow raised.
“Is something wrong,” Batman asked.
“No, no, I was just…” Jim took a breath and jammed his half-frozen hands into his pockets, feeling impossibly foolish. What was he doing? “It’s been a rough week,” he continued. “And I was just…” His sentence trailed off with another deep sigh. “Eh, never mind. It was nothing.”
Batman kept his eyes on him, appraising him the way Jim had seen him study countless crime scenes. It made him feel strangely vulnerable, almost nude.
“Are you hungry?” Batman asked suddenly.
And even though he was one of the most infuriatingly inscrutable men in the world, Jim knew him well enough by now to recognize this for what it was. A small lifeline.
“Starving,” Jim grinned, dropping his cigarette to crush it underfoot. “There’s a little hole in the wall on 4th.”
“McLaren’s?”
“That’s the one.” Jim was beyond amused by the idea that Batman might be familiar with the little mom & pop health code violation they called a diner. He imagined him strolling in for a milkshake at 2 in the morning, cowl and all, and having an autographed portrait added to the wall of celebrity customers.
Jim glanced back at the scene. They’d finally hauled Croc into one of the armored vans and were just beginning to clear out.
“We’re just about done here,” he said. “Give me about 10 minutes and I should– Goddammit.” He was talking to himself again. Perhaps the first time had been a fluke.
About thirty minutes later, Jim was pulling up in front of the little diner, the windows papered with sun damaged menu items and flashing neon lights, and the only place still open at this ungodly hour. A bell chimed as he stepped in, immediately blinded by the contrast from wintry night to bright fluorescent interior.
“Gordy!” the round man at the grill shouted by way of greeting.
“Pauly.” Jim was too tired to return the same vigor, but he offered a smile, tugging off his coat that was now heavy with rain and stiff with cold.
Without another word between them, Pauly threw a few extra ingredients on the flat-top grill to start preparing Jim’s usual.
In the back, a dark figure was hunched in the corner booth by a window, completely incongruous with the otherwise ordinary setting, like a Tesla in a Norman Rockwell painting.
He caught Pauly’s eye then, and Pauly shot him wary half-raise of an eyebrow as if to say, What the hell you got going on here? and Am I gonna have to update my insurance policy on this place? and Do you think he’ll sign a photo?
Jim just shrugged in a way he hoped was reassuring then made his way back to the booth and slipped in. Batman was leaning over a half-drained mug of coffee, his head in his hand, and though Jim couldn’t see his eyes through the white lenses in the mask, he could’ve sworn the other man was dozing off.
“Surprised you’re sitting with your back to the door,” Jim noted. “Thought you were too paranoid for that sort of thing.”
Batman simply gestured toward the chrome napkin holder, angled in such a way that he had a clear view of the entire restaurant behind him. Of course.
Jim chuckled and shook his head as Pauly came over with a glass of Coke. He held up a coffee pot, offering to refill Batman’s cup, but Batman held up a tired hand and Pauly returned to the kitchen.
“So,” Jim began, tapping his straw against the table to open it, “made it through another one.”
“Hn.” Batman rubbed his face in an exhausted and somewhat startlingly human gesture and coughed, groaning a little.
Jim was fairly certain he’d never seen Batman so openly… human before. Even after some of their worst scrapes when Batman was practically bleeding out or loaded with some sort of toxin, he had always stood tall, stoic, betraying not even a hint of weakness. After a while, it had only added to the legend of it all.
Batman: the man who did not sleep, who bled but did not feel pain.
He’d taken on a mythos, became something larger than himself. Jim had watched the transformation with his own two eyes, had seen the way the conversation shifted around him in the precinct and on the streets. In the months after Batman’s first appearance, he went from being the crazy man in a costume to the lurking force that hung over the city the same way clouds always seemed to – at once haunting and familiar.
He’d known all along that the stories of his exploits were overblown, but he’d let them grow anyway because he also knew how necessary it was that the city believed them, that they saw Batman as this otherworldly entity. It was the only way for any of it to work. Batman’s very name, the signal in the sky, they had to be backed by an unshakeable belief that he was something more than a man.
Because it wasn’t enough to be a good man. Not here; not anymore. Good men didn’t scare criminals, not the kind that stalked the streets of Gotham. And good men didn’t last long in these parts, besides. Harvey Dent’s presence in Arkham was a painful, permanent reminder of that fact. And it was Harvey Dent, along with other fallen or corrupted good men, who solidified the cynicism that clung to the hearts of most Gothamites like a parasite and made it nearly impossible for them to take any solace in the efforts or words of simple good men.
In a battle against devils, men simply did not do.
No, they needed something more, something greater. They needed a legend, a story whispered over barrel fires and on street corners, an ever-present threat to those who prowled the shadows and a hope for those searching for the light.
They needed Batman.
And Jim was mature enough to admit that he needed it, too. He clung to the stories, craved them the same way a child might cling to Santa Clause – a desperate last attempt at hope in this city that seemed to try its damnedest to crush it.
But now, sitting across from Batman and getting a chance to really look at him up close in something other than the dim lit of a rooftop or back alley, and seeing the drawn lines in his face and the weary drag in his voice, Jim couldn’t help but kick himself for being so foolish, so selfish. It was one thing for the city to believe the stories, but he didn’t have that luxury. He couldn’t. Because at the end of the day there needed to be at least one person out there who saw Batman for who he really was: just a good man trying to save the city from itself.
Someone had to see that – had to know that.
Otherwise, who would save the Batman from the city?
And when Batman coughed again and stretched his neck painfully from side to side, wincing as he did, Jim kicked himself again. He’d noticed from the first moment that Batman seemed worse for wear, yet never once had he suggested any medical intervention, however futile the offer might be. And he vowed in that moment to do better at remembering that this man before him was just that.
A man.
“You all right?” Jim asked in a belated attempt to do what he should’ve done almost an hour ago. And many times, before that. “If you want, I can get one of the guys to give you a once over.”
“I’m fine,” Batman said, his eyes scrunched.
Sitting here, Batman’s chest and arms were visible beneath the cape, and Jim could get a better read on the extent of the damage. The burns he’d noticed in the cape itself were also on his torso, leaving holes in the fabric that revealed the tough, lightweight armor beneath, and Jim recognized the telltale slashes across his chest and biceps left by Ivy’s thorny vines, some of them slicing clean through to the skin. There was a particularly deep gash across Batman’s left side, and when he noticed Jim staring, he let the cape fall a bit more to cover himself.
“Really,” he added with a slight edge in his voice.
Jim put up his hands in surrender. “Hey, listen. I’m not your mother. If you say you’re fine,” he shrugged, taking a swig from his Coke, and he could’ve sworn he saw some tension seep out of Batman’s shoulders, as if he’d been bracing himself for a battle on this issue.
Jim was a caring man, and he could worry and nag with the best of them, but he was also an old man, and tired. And the last thing he intended to do tonight on top of everything else was argue with another grown man about a damn checkup.
“What do you usually do after nights like this?” he asked, pivoting easily. “I’m assuming by the nervous sweats on Pauly’s collar that you’re not exactly a regular here.”
“No,” Batman granted. “Usually, I go for a drive.”
“Huh. I would’ve thought you’d just go right home. Crawl into bed and pass out.”
“Sometimes, but not always. Nights like this… I need to be alone for a while. Clear my head, wait for the adrenaline to wear off.”
It hadn’t occurred to Jim that the Batman might live with other people. He wondered what that looked like. A wife? A family? He found himself imagining the Christmas card – a smiling family in matching sweaters and then… Batman. His lips curled into a smile around the straw in his mouth.
But he also understood the sentiment exactly, and he nodded, saying, “I hear ya,” while suppressing the million questions burning at the back of his throat about Batman’s home life. Not the time, not the place, and not his business.
“Do you want to, uh… Do you want to talk about it?” he asked after a brief pause. “What happened, I mean?” Jim’s eyes flicked back and forth between his Coke and Batman’s face, suddenly feeling wildly out of his depth. He figured it was a necessary question to ask, especially given everything that had happened, but he felt impossibly unqualified to have the conversation with this man in particular.
“No,” Batman said after another moment, staring out the window at the sparse, pre-dawn traffic. If Jim were anybody else or any younger, he might have flushed with embarrassment.
Because of course Batman didn’t want to talk about it with him. What could he possibly offer by way of advice or comfort to the man who had saved the entire city – hell, the world – on multiple occasions; who had fought battles in different solar systems and gone toe to toe with aliens and demigods? Comparatively, Jim was a nobody, practically irrelevant in the grand scheme of things.
Self-pity wasn’t a familiar sensation for him, and he shifted uncomfortably in the overstuffed seat, cringing as the plastic covering whined beneath him.
“Not about tonight,” Batman continued.
Jim blinked, confused, and Batman went on a little hesitantly. “Let’s just… talk.”
“Oh.” The response felt incredibly lame coming out of his mouth and seemed to plop onto the table between them, but he was so caught off guard that he didn’t know what else to say.
It looked almost like Batman was suddenly unsure, because he immediately straightened in his seat, and his expression became more guarded, that familiar stoicism returning to his mouth and all of the apparent exhaustion evaporating in an instant.
“You’re right,” he said quickly, even though Jim hadn’t said anything. “It’s unnecessary. And you’re probably tired. You should go.”
Batman had just begun to slide out of the booth – wincing in pain as he went – when Jim reached out a hand.
“Hey, hey, wait a second. At this point I won’t be getting to sleep anytime soon, and I’ll bet the same goes for you. Now, I plan to sit here, eat my roast beef sandwich and maybe get an extra order of fries. I can’t force you, but if you wanna sit here with me and talk about something other than criminally insane meta humans and murder and armed robberies, I’d like that quite a bit.”
Batman held his gaze for a moment, still halfway between sitting and standing as Pauly returned and set two plates down on the table. A hefty roast beef sandwich pierced with a toothpick and topped with a pickle for Jim and a Philly cheesesteak for Batman. Jim couldn’t tell if it was his little speech or the food that pushed him over the edge, but Batman settled back into the seat, a little stiff, but apparently ready to stay for at least as long as it took to finish the sandwich.
Jim grinned as he watched him drag over a ketchup and squirt it into the center of the sandwich. The whole image was just so surreal he wouldn’t have been surprised if his alarm went off in a minute and he woke up only to realize the whole thing had been a dream.
“So then,” Jim said around a mouthful of bread and meat, “seen any good movies lately?”
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yoongisbars · 5 years ago
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Samusil | myg | P R O L O G U E
summary: It was always known that you were the family disappointment. So naturally, you fled. With a looming school debt, alcoholic tendencies, and no luck whatsoever in keeping a job for more than a month, you were at your wits end until you finally cave into working at Bang-Lenzo. You’ve only ever heard horrors of the place and its manager. But maybe, just maybe, that office would become your safe haven.
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pairing: myg x reader genre: strangers to lovers au | office!yoongi au | future angst? fluff?  word count: 7.5k tw: alcohol as coping mechanism, subjects that might hit close to home note:  inspired by The Office US, this is only a teaser, a taste, of a project im working on, i wont release anything besides this until its ready, so pls endure !! <3
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        Life was a bitch to everyone, and ever since you flunked out of Business School, it’s proven you weren’t the exception. It was an already supersaturated field with bright minded, innovative entrepreneurs. And you? Realized halfway through that the business world wasn’t cut out for you. With an overwhelmingly expensive college debt for an unfinished degree that your parents refused to pay for, you became the official family disappointment. After two years of being done with their bullshit, you finally packed your stuff and moved as far away as possible, hoping to start anew in the small town of rural Yangpiji.
        Just because you had some level of education, didn’t mean it would get you quite far. It’s done the opposite, in fact. Jobs with higher wages frowned upon your incomplete studies, and jobs that didn’t give a fuck if you finished high school, didn’t pay enough to deal with their idiocies or take care of the bills for that matter. One heated argument with the owner of the last food joint you worked at was the final straw. Throwing your dirty apron at his face, you walked out of there without a single care in the world, and for the moment, you felt powerful. At least until you waltzed into Slack Jack’s and sat at the bar that night, head buried into your palms.
“Rough shift?” Your eyes peered from behind your fingers, focusing on a shot being placed in front of you. And boy, were you thankful for it. Without speaking, you threw that shit back and let it burn your throat, the only consolation for the situation you were in. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
“Jackson, I quit.” Feigned shock played on the bartender’s face as he cleaned a beer mug. You weren’t the only one who searched for new beginnings in Yangpiji. In front of you was Jackson Wang, owner and proprietor of Slack Jack’s. He had moved there from abroad no more than ten years ago in hopes to reinvent himself, and against all odds did. He had been your close friend for the past three years since moving. Quite frankly the only good thing this area had to offer was Jackson and his cheap drinks that get you hammered quick.
“Really? I wouldn’t have thought!” His hand shot up to cover his mouth, chuckling at your bland reaction. Rolling your eyes so far into your skull, a heavy sigh escaped from within.
“I’m serious. I quit. I quit work, I quit life, I quit Yangpiji- I’m tired… I hate that I’m a jobless 28-year-old drunk, with nothing to offer this world besides how to survive on garlic noodles and rum.” Your hands traveled the air around you as you searched for words, “I can’t even afford to make them Jjajang Noodles, Jack. JJAJANG!” A small shriek spewed out as you downed another shot, you stopped counting after the third one. Dread and sorrow pooled around you in a matter of seconds. You were at your wits end. And you couldn’t say you were past your peak, since frankly you never took off the ground to begin with. “I’m a failure, Jackson.”
        Widened eyes traveled the room trying to find any words of consolation, but the bartender couldn’t find anything other than pity. His hands moved quickly, putting away the bottles before he was tempted to offer you anymore. He usually served you on the house because he knew of your struggles, but you also drank your weight in alcohol, and he didn’t want to go broke any time soon.
“Listen, chief. There’s still an option…” Oh no… You didn’t want to hear it; already knowing what was coming. “The Bang-Lenzo Yangpiji Branch is still hiring for a secretary; you should test it out.”
        Ah, yes. Bang-Lenzo Inc. Somehow a successful company in the dying paper industry. One of the first to drop their deforestation contracts for their supplies and switch entirely to recycled paper. Since most companies didn’t believe in the Save The Trees movement, most of their major clients dropped them and signed contracts with Bang-Lenzo instead. Working for them would be an achievement… If only the branch in your city wasn’t a nut house.
“Jackson…” Elongating the last syllable, you groaned. “I’ve heard horror stories of people that have tried to work there, it’s chaos. No one ever lasts a full week…” The idea of even bothering to work there was dreadful. The workers there were a nightmare, so you’ve heard. But their manager? A complete lunatic. Unprofessional, immature, inappropriate, and other negative connotations have been used to describe the young manager, Jeon Jungkook. Rumor had it he was the top salesman for 4 years straight before the old manager died. When the company crunched the numbers and stats, he was technically the most qualified for the manager position and had managed to keep it for the past 5 years.
        Amidst your internal struggle, Jackson raised an eyebrow and cut you straight. “It pays $15 an hour, plus benefits.” On instinct your hand shot up, doing quick maths in the air. Holy cow. You shifted your attention to Jackson so fast you almost snapped your neck.
“That’s almost $30k a year!”
“More than you’ll ever make busing tables, that’s for sure.” He had a point. And, you were desperate. Maybe not so much at first, but $15 is $15 and if it meant sacrificing your sanity for survival, well damn it, you were down for the count.
“Guess I’m speaking to Jeon…”
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        On Jackson’s commands and with a set of instructions, you left the bar early. ‘Prep for tomorrow, rest and sober up.’ Three things that you were never quite well doing at the very last minute. Bits and pieces of information were fed to you, in order to try and snatch the job at its core.
‘From what I’ve heard, he likes to go in on Saturday mornings to catch up on some work.’ All that meant was that you had to wake up early, and your suspected hangover did not like that. You did what any ‘sane’ person would do and popped in a pain killer and a nausea reliever, an old family remedy to wake up fresh and ready.
‘At the breakfast buffet two blocks over, I once saw him obliterate the cheddar biscuits… And I think he has a thing for sausages too.’ Really, it seemed like Jackson knew Jungkook too well, but honestly so did the town through word of mouth. That last bit of information is what made you scour the nearest convenience store for the necessary ingredients to make the piece of resistance, the key to securing your assets. With this bread you were going to get your bread.
---
        Morning came quickly, as you had gone to bed late baking and sorting out your clothes for the day. Sporting one of your finer ensembles just to make a statement, you were ready to take life by the throat. A dark gray, tight pencil skirt above the knee, a light beige button up blouse with pearled buttons, and a blazer to match the skirt. You applied a fair amount of neutral colored makeup in order to rejuvenate your features to not look like you’ve been miserable for the past 10 years. You finished off the look by slipping on some classic, black Mary Jane’s.
        For the first time since inheriting this 1999 Verna, you were glad the aircon was a hunk of junk and only blew hot steam. Of course you drove with the windows down to receive actual fresh air, but you angled the conductors towards the biscuits, keeping them toasty and warm as if freshly baked that morning. Jeon Jungkook would be in the palm of your hands and the job would soon be in your possession. Financial stability: here I come.
        Parked outside of the building, you painted on a mask with all of the false confidence and determination you could muster, before any ounce of regret could slip in. Once the clock hit 8:55am, it was time to go. You grabbed the biscuits, which you had ever so ‘lovingly’ placed in a basket upping the charm factor, and headed for the entrance.
I need money. I need money. I need money. It was the mantra of your choosing as you took the unnervingly long elevator ride up to the Bang-Lenzo office where your unannounced meeting with Jeon Jungkook awaited. Yes, unannounced. Obviously to anyone with common sense of time, 9:00pm wasn't a viable hour to schedule a meeting for the next morning, so you decided to take the determined approach and show up like you already owned the place. For the first time you had a goal and were dead set on obtaining it. Nothing would stop you from getting that income. I need money.
‘Bang-Lenzo INC.’ read the door sign in front of you. For a moment you closed your eyes, fighting off the urge to walk back to your car and forget this place. But your mantra was quick to erase such thoughts. I desperately need money. Overpowered with feigned confidence, you strutted into the main office. Immediately you were faced with your soon to be desk. It was large and crescent shaped, spacious and tall. In a room to your right, you heard a muffled voice. Surely that was Jeon’s office. With a huff of air, you went to knock on his door.
“Huh? C-come in?” Faint and hurried clattering was heard from inside. With suspicion, you went for the door, revealing behind it the manager, and possible future boss: Jeon Jungkook. Sporting nothing but a set of gray sweats, disheveled hair, and a headset placed around his neck. “Did you need something?” 
The scene in front of you made you lose focus for a split second. You had never seen him before, and by personality description you expected many things except him being viciously attractive. And also a gamer, noted by the Overwatch screen on his computer. The thought left you in a split second, you only had one goal and it did not include sleeping with the manager to reach it. You learned that only works once and it’s never rewarding.
“I’m here for the secretary position? I figured since it’s early and unannounced I’d bring in a little something to eat.” A sweet and charmful voice oozed from your throat, foreign to your body unless it was summoned. The confused manager’s doe eyes lit up once they set intensely on the basket making way to his desk. “I hope you enjoy warm biscuits.” Before he could even question what was going on, you were already sitting across from him, placing your intricate resume in front of his grubby self, you were ready to snatch this job from his hands. He had already fallen victim to the biscuits. You could see the revival in his eyes as soon as he took the first bite. Butter and cheese were the key, but  it was the mini weenies hidden inside that sealed the deal.
Jungkook didn't bother to offer it much of a glance. Instead he redirected his attention to you. “Are you good with computers and organizing?” Bread crumbs and cheese lingered on the corner of his lips as he spoke, you could have sworn some spittle came in your direction as well. Upon further inspection, the food stains on his sweats may have started a whole community of bacteria. Any office fantasy of getting railed by a manager quickly died with this individual, and some word of mouth started to make sense.
“Yes. Anything document and spreadsheet related I can handle, not to mention emails, and of course scheduling agendas-“
“And you made these? From scratch?” He held a biscuit in awe, and you couldn’t help but feel success in your future.
“I did.” You offered a soft, shy smile. Another desperate attempt to charm him for the job.
“Do you think you can bring them in on Monday mornings? Starting this Monday? Tell you what, I’ll raise you to $16 an hour if you do.” You choked on your saliva, instantly entering a coughing fit. He really might be off his rocker, but in this economy, who cares? Not you, because for simply baking Sunday nights you get an extra $40 a week. With this bread, you get your bread. 
“I certainly can! It would be my pleasure.”  “Great! Then let’s sign the paperwork and make it official.” He rummaged through his files to retrieve the contract. “Gosh, I can’t wait to tell the other managers all about my new beautiful secretary who cares for me, and cooks for me, and, who knows; maybe even have a secret romance with me?” There it was, the inappropriateness everyone talked about. Jungkook didn’t give you time to come out of your confused state. “Ha! I’m kidding! It’s just a joke. We’re professional. Professional. We’ll of course report our relationship to HR.” A noise seemingly from The Grudge escaped you. There was an ungodly uncomfortable silence before he decided to kill the awkwardness of the situation.“KIDDING AGAIN!” 
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        You didn’t question the lacking interview, or how Jungkook was quick to hire you. It was the most unethical thing in the world and yet? You didn’t care. You were one step closer to financial stability, and that was all you could ever ask for. With the contract filled out and already added to the payroll, you had officially signed your soul over to the white collar world. Serving as the official secretary of Jeon Jungkook. He truly was an oddball, and somewhat inappropriate, but he didn’t give any indication of being an asshole of a boss. Too friendly and annoying, but you had the gut feeling he might just be a decent enough boss. Or at least not so much of an idiot that you can tolerate working for. Besides, the money’s good.
        Walking out of and looking back at the building, your eyes spotted his office windows, with him behind, cheerfully waving you off as he ate the remains of the biscuits. A subtle reminder, you needed to prep your baking game.
--- 
       With a more dressed down version of what you wore to the impromptu interview, you drove your car over to the office building. Only this time, pulling up to the parking lot as you were now an employee. Jungkook’s car was already there. A sleek, black Equus. In comparison to its ancestor, your Verna, it exuded upper management presence. He clearly was a successful 27 year old, and you aspired to be able to reach as much coin as he probably had some day. Really, all you ever wanted in life was money. Were you willing to work much for it though? Probably not, but you didn’t have a choice. It was time to get in gear and make up for lost time. 10 years of your life, in fact.
        You stopped thinking about past mistakes before you could let them affect your first day. Taking the biscuits and purse in a hurried manner, you rushed up to the office. Only an hour earlier than the rest, but you still had things to prove, if only to yourself.
        Upon arrival, Jungkook was busy fiddling on your computer. Documents and folders were neatly spread out on a corner of your desk, waiting to be filed and sorted.
“Hey Y/N, You’re early! I hope you don’t mind, I’m setting up your company email so you can quickly get started.” His quick fingers stopped abruptly, for just a moment, his hand reaching for the biscuits. “And thank you for these, I didn’t think you’d actually make them.” He cocked his head in surprise and took a bite before finishing setting up your computer and programs. The comment left you with an odd feeling.
“Of course I would, I promised it.” Truthfully you only agreed because of the pay raise, but you would still hold up with it. No complaints. “Why did you up my pay grade if you didn’t think so?”
“I don’t know, incentive? I figured this would be an easier way to have someone stay for longer than a week at least.” Shaking his head for only a brief second, he continued. “But there’s something about you that tells me you’re going to be the perfect fit here. You have potential, Y/N. That’s why I hired you.” What the fuck was he talking about, ‘Potential’? You were a 28 year old deadbeat, a failure and a degenerate according to your relatives. You had anything but potential. Noting the hesitation to answer, Jungkook changed the subject swiftly. 
“And it’s done. I’ll give you a quick rundown of things on the machine and then we can work with organizing my schedule, I am so out of sync with this company and I haven’t a clue when my next meetings are.” With a clap, he stood up and motioned you to the seat. He continued to peruse through the biscuit basket, searching for the ‘cheesiest ones’.
        After a tour throughout the company programs and where supplies and files were around the office, the other workers started to arrive in a timely fashion. Some didn’t bother to give you the time of day, but others decided to greet you as soon as they walked in. Particularly a few of the guys from accounting and sales were quite enthusiastic to greet you. If you remembered correctly, the younger pair of them were from Accounting; Jimin and Taehyung, they were really nice, a bit shy as were you, but very polite and warm. You watched as they sat at their corner and bickered slightly, but it seemed to be in honest fun. The one from sales, Hoseok, was the opposite in terms of shyness. He welcomed you with the most charming of smiles and emphasized that if you ever needed a helping hand around the office to not hesitate to ask him. He cheerfully chatted your ear for a few minutes giving you a small idea of what a day in the office might be. “It’s not that bad once you get used to it, you just need to give us a chance.” You heard his hidden pleas. Many people came and went from this place and their tongues never ceased to express their distaste for it. Even most of your coworkers gave off an air of annoyance with the place. You couldn’t blame them, but basing your experience on first impressions only, it could be worse. Only time will reveal the shithole everyone else claims this place to be.
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        It was 20 minutes past 8:00am and the once empty office was now filled and working. Jungkook came out of his office ever so often, glancing over the the desks, ‘tsk tsk tsk’ is all he ever spoke before going back behind his door. You thought to ignore his manner and focus on organizing his schedule based on the emails he forwarded you. He had plenty of meetings, webinars and conference calls to attend, and they were all scattered around. On your shared calendar, you added the event reminder and description for each and every one for the next month, even going an extra step to add reminders on your own calendar the day before, just to make sure he’s up to date. 
        A new email displayed on the screen, an impromptu conference call for Jungkook in 10 minutes labeled ‘URGENT’. You were about to head to his office to notify him, but you remained seated as the entrance door swung abruptly, startling you just enough to make you forget your name and the company you now work for. All you saw was a coat being placed on the rack next to you with an exasperated sigh escaping the core of the individual. Right away, it was clear that if there was anyone in the entire building that hated having to wake up early in the morning just to show up to work in this unfortunate place more than you, it was him. Like the majority of the employees, he looked straight up miserable, even behind dark colored sunglasses. The freshly made venti Iced Americano, the slow paced walk to his desk and his disregard to show up on time were, in your opinion, strong indicators of his likely hatred for his job.
        Settled in his desk, he removed his shades. His narrow, cat-like eyes drew you in like magnets, there was no telling whether or not his iciness was natural, or a ruse to limit his interactions with the rest of the staff. Yet somehow they were still fitting for his rounder, chubbier cheeks. His lips were already pursed downward, but they seemed to curl even further and remain that way almost permanently as Jungkook peered his head out. You tried calling out to him, but your voice was muted by his own exclaims.
“Yoongi!” He shouted, you could say enthusiastically, towards the late addition in the office. He released another sigh, this time accompanied by an eye roll.
“Not now, Jungkook.” His voice was deep and low. Eyes never abandoning his monitor as Jungkook approached him. 
        Whatever conversation they were having was nothing but whispers and subtle head shakes. Yoongi was it? Didn’t seem in the mood for whatever chatter the manager kept going on about. You noticed bow everyone in the office was trying to work, but not being able to steal sudden glances from the conversation. Judging by those, especially Hoseok’s since he was sitting right at the situation, you assume they all had an idea as to what was unfolding. You, however, could only assume was an odd scolding in Jungkook’s manner for him showing up late.
        A ringing alert brought your focus back to your own desk, the incoming call you guessed was from Corporate due to the email. Jungkook had previously requested that you warn him first before answering any calls from them, and you remembered what you were ready to do before Yoongi walked in. Not wanting to bring in any attention to yourself you debated quickly which was the best option, calling him over or going straight to him, but you didn’t even answer yourself before your legs started moving on their own.
“Jungkook.” You tapped his shoulder gently, and spoke softly. The young manager startled a bit, and you were unsure if the other man’s expression was relief or annoyance, but you let it go quickly.
“Yes? Oh! That reminds me. Everyone!” What you wanted to avoid was exactly what he gathered: attention.
“This is Y/N, office secretary. I want you all to make her feel welcome, be kind.” He kept going on one of his badly timed speeches until no one paid him any mind.
“Jungkook, you have-”
“Would you both excuse yourselves and talk elsewhere?” The deep voice that spoke seemed to command more authority than Jungkook did. 
“Sorry,Y/N. Yoongi’s a bit on edge due to his divorce trial.” The last phrase he tried to utter as a whisper by leaning close to your ear, and although he made it sound like such, it was still loud enough for people to hear.
“Do you really have to tell people about my personal life? Where does it end with you?”
“I felt like I needed to excuse your attitude, she’s part of our family now anyways, she can know.” 
        Their bickering picked up again, Jungkook defending the reasoning for his declarations and Yoongi countering with how he always oversteps fine lined boundaries and doesn't have any common sense. Although you very much agreed with what Yoongi was saying that it was an invasion of privacy, you were still caught in the middle of their crossfire and all you wanted to do was inform Jungkook about the god forsaken call.
“JUNGKOOK.” Your raised voice silenced their bickering, and the room came to an onlooking halt. Anxiety started creep behind you due to shouting over your manager on your first day, causing flashbacks of previous outcomes due to this similar situation to roll like a montage in your head, but your patience was running thin.
“What, what is it?” Jungkook, unphased by the situation, cocked his head at you in slight confusion.
“You have a call from Corporate.” You maintained your stern tone, but you were wavering internally. His demeanor took a turn, eyes so wide you feared they would pop out.
“Did you answer?” Whispers gave an undertone of fear. With the phone still ringing in the background, you shook your head.
“Good. Tell them I’m out with a major client. I’m not here.” He hurriedly walked you back to the phone. The glint in his eyes says you should worry, but you swallowed and answered with the same feigned confidence you used for the interview.
“Bang-Lenzo, this is Y/N.”
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        You successfully got rid of the Corporate call in the morning, but you were unsure how long that might last given the urgency they requested it with. And Jungkook’s behavior regarding any calls from Corporate today, or the rest of the week from what he stated, was worrisome. It was a concern you’d tuck to the back of your head, it wasn’t your business anyways.
        As the day went on, you saw that life in the office was quite eventful, so to speak. After the ordeal of Yoongi’s divorce proceedings this morning, and Jungkook avoiding Corporate like the Black Plague, an array of unusual things for a normal day to day office routine continued to happen.
        Mainly, Jungkook was entirely distracting. To you, the staff and mostly to himself. He would constantly try to make conversation with anyone, and the topics were always painfully awkward. Anytime he was actually in his office, more time was spent playing Overwatch with Taehyung than doing any kind of work. Not to mention he eventually ventured over to the conference room, with Jimin and Hoseok in toe, for their “twice a day dancercise routine” as their official 15 minute break away from their computers.
        If you thought the nonsense would end there, you were soon to be corrected. It in fact continued in the numerous times Taehyung and Jimin came by your desk asking for copies. And not even official work copies- they were asking you to print out different versions of invitational flyers for their ‘seasonal crop party’. To your surprise, Taehyung had inherited the only strawberry farm in the region due to his grandparents passing, not like you had bothered to ask anyways. The only question you cared an answer for was if Jungkook had approved of using office supplies for this. It shouldn't have shocked you like it did that the man himself had designed the flyer and organized such an event, but still. 
        Lunchtime couldn’t arrive quicker. Some of the staff beelined with their meals over to the lunchroom area, while the others went out to eat. You half expected Jungkook to take advantage of the lunchroom crowd for his shenanigans, but he opted for eating in his office with Jimin and Taehyung instead. You could hear their incessant planning murmurs as you passed by to heat up your meal.
“Y/N!” Jungkook exclaimed once he caught your movement. “If the others give you the cold shoulder, feel free to join us here for lunch.”
“Oh, it’s okay. I planned on eating at my desk,” You chose your next words carefully, feeling the party planners’ gazes. “But I’ll keep it in mind in case I get too lonely, thank you!” The soft smile that spread across your smile was enough to comfort them from the small rejection. They went back to their discussions and you headed for the microwave.
        Peaking your head into the lunchroom, it was filled with the younger, unwelcoming faces from earlier. It’s not like you planned on sitting down and chatting with them, you were there just to heat up your lunch, but upon entry you noticed how their conversations volumes lowered all the way down to whispers and snickers. You focused your attention on the whirring noises and beeps the microwave offered as a mere distraction. It was a curse you carried for as long as you could remember. Any giggle, whisper, snicker, or anything of the sort you heard in your perimeter, you felt was directed at you. As if they could see the list of failures and misfortunes displayed on your back.
        You took your bowl and offered the room a nervous smile and nod before leaving, hoping it came across as a ‘sorry to bother, enjoy your lunch’.  As you exited the room, Hoseok, tailed by Yoongi, was heading with his food over to the conference room.
“Y/N, come join us if you want.” Hoseok was beaming, if the sun was human it would be him. Contrary to the one walking past him, not bothering to stop. He could be truthfully considered the dark side of the moon. Although with his back to you, you could make out his unrelenting scowl reflecting in the conference room’s glass wall. “Ignore him, he’s still mad over this morning.”
“All things considered, I can’t blame him. But I think I’ll pass.” Hoseok hooked his free arm around yours before you could continue.
“Nonsense, you shouldn’t cast yourself out on the first day.” In truth, Hoseok’s friendly manner and joyous attitude couldn’t be denied. You felt his genuine interest in making sure your transition into the office was a smooth one. In the room, Yoongi was already gulpin down his food, not bothering to glance up until he spoke.
“Shut the door so I can tell you…” Words escaped him, replaced by a sigh as he spotted your presence, and Hoseok’s sudden realization of what this lunch reunion entailed. Surely, they were meant to discuss the divorce proceedings, but Hoseok forgot upon trying to welcome you.
“Right… Y/N, rain check? Alone on your first day though...” He sighed as he flushed with embarrassment and you couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Don’t worry,” that was directed more at Yoongi if anything, a small assurance accompanied by the subtlest of nods. The rest was for Hoseok, as a dismissive joke to calm his worries. “I’ll probably join the Crop Festers and their shenanigans.” He cocked his head in confusion, a sharp ‘hm?’ caught in his throat. You brushed it off, leaving them with a wave. Wishing them a nice lunch and closing the door behind you, it was unknown to you that the Crop Festers had overheard, and were expecting you at Jungkook’s door excitedly.
“So you’re joining us then?” Taehyung assumed overjoyed, and Jimin couldn’t hide his giddiness. Jungkook was at the back at his desk, shaking his head in tune with soft chuckles before waving you in. It was clear that there was no way to have an unbothered lunch for the next 45 minutes, so… You joined.
        Tae, as he now urged you to call him, and Jimin made space for you between them. Rice, meats, noodles, and an array of veggies were spread across the desk, now along with your own addition of food and in no time you were all eating and sharing your meals. Jungkook even offered up the few remaining biscuits, causing Tae and Jimin to fuss over why weren’t they brought out sooner and how good of a cook you were. Now they were expectant for next Monday morning for a pleasant cheesy boost.
        Unknown to your conscious self, you were having a nice time. Further into the lunch, you became more involved with the Crop Party planning, and were even getting a bit excited for the day to arrive. A paid work day for a strawberry picking party? Who could say no to that? You weren’t ready to admit it just yet, with it being the first day and all, but… You were starting to like this place, even if you weren’t ready to acknowledge it. Once lunch was over, and everyone was making their way back to their desks, they eyed you with slight annoyance as you walked out of the office along with Tae and Jimin, still laughing at one of Jungkook’s impressions of some of the staff. Unaware, Yoongi and Hoseok exchanged a suspicious glance. Who was to blame any of them? It was a first for them to see someone new being friendly, or accepting the office shenanigans as they transpired.
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        Afternoon was a milder version of what the morning turned out to be, everyone was calmer now, and as the hours passed you noticed they worked harder. Even Jungkook was filing reports and taking work calls, as long as they weren’t from Corporate. One of your last tasks was to send out some notice of change in policy emails to clients, it was the most time consuming, but it helped the remaining hours pass by in a flurry.
        Bags started to be packed and coats began to be thrown on as the clock got nearer to 5:00pm. Everyone was ready to put an end to the odd Monday, and you could tell by their soft smiles and shy ‘See you tomorrow’s.  Hoseok dropped by your desk with a “Lunch tomorrow, for sure!” before leaving and wishing you well. Yoongi followed behind him, not offering anything at all. More than likely still fussy over his personal issues being announced in the office. Jimin and Taehyung each went for a goodbye hug, as they were more than excited to have you aboard. Often they carpooled, you found out that they live together on the farm. After being friends for so long, they decided to run it together. Only you and Jungkook, who was still stuck in his office remained. With your things on hand, you peered through his window to give him a small wave which he returned, followed by pointing to the phone and making mocking expressions of talking too much. With a shake of your head, you went to clock out, putting an end to the first day on the job. You would call it a success, for it being your very first 8-5, and it deemed celebration. So once you hopped on your Verna, and peered out of the parking lot, your destination was clear: Slack Jack’s. 
        You had never once been there on a Monday, much less after 5:00pm. Late weekend nights were what you had grown accustomed to due to your old odd jobs here and there. But much to your surprise, the ambience at this hour was much more tranquil and up your alley than what you were used to. You hated crowds and loud groups of people, and there was none of that here. Eyes scanned the bar for your favorite and only owner, who upon noticing your arrival called you over to an empty stool up at the bar. Eager steps made their way over as he placed your favorite shot on the counter: a water moccasin. You paid no mind to the individual next to your stool as you sat down, eyes trained on the peachy, sweet and sour whiskey shot glass before you. Widened eyes stared, unknown to you, as you drank it in one big gulp, placing the now empty glass on the counter, snapping and pointing at Jackson with finger guns as you exclaimed “Hit me again”.
        A smirk played on the corners of his mouth as he placed a second one just as you finished asking. Knowing your habits, he made two as soon as he saw you. “I’m guessing today went... ?” He was expecting you to tell him all about your day, as soon as you finished fighting off the burning feeling down your throat. It was always the second one that got you the most. Hissing for only a few seconds, you spoke.
“Honestly? Honestly honest? I can’t complain.” Alcohol was slowly starting to take effect on you as you rambled on. “At first I was kinda freaked out? Because everyone was kinda weird? OH! And then Jungkook decided to out a guy’s whole divorce or something?�� In the background, next to you, someone cleared their throat as Jackson bit his bottom lip, trying to hold in a chuckle, but you went on. “I don’t know, it was weird. But like afterwards, it was pretty chill. Jungkook ain’t that bad. And lowkey? I can’t wait for the strawberry season, dude.” A snort escaped you as you thought back on the Crop Party. You couldn’t wait. Tae mentioned something about making fresh milkshakes, and right now you were wildin’ at the thought.
“So I’m guessing you’ve met Yoongi?” Jackson’s hand motioned you to look to your right. Lo and Behold, Mr. Divorcee was magically there, a citrus whiskey on the rocks in his hands. And that’s when it hits you, you have a loud mouth.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry.” Eyes like a deer in headlights, pleading for forgiveness. Yoongi waved it off. You finally heard his voice without a hint of annoyance.
“It’s fine.” Bringing the glass to his lips, he took a long sip. Which reminded you.
“Jackson, may I please--”
“Have another?” He chuckled as he went to prepare a fresh shot. “Don’t get carried away tonight, though. You work tomorrow, remember?” 
“Hey, I have self control. I won’t drink past 6:30, I swear.” To even prove such control, you didn’t rush to down the shot. Instead you tried to build a conversation with the man in charge of the drinks, but he cursed silently at a reminder.
“Fuck, excuse me for a sec. I have to call my parents.” You remembered him mentioning something about an upcoming anniversary as he rushed to the back, leaving you alone with Yoongi, a shot and your thoughts. 
        Allowing your mind to travel far for a moment, the waterfall of bitter memories with your family started to cloud your field of vision. Forgetting where you were and who was around, you brought your hands up to either cheek and gave yourself some quick, small smacks in an attempt to distract your tear ducts from doing their job. A groan escaped you as you reached for the shot in front of you, disappearing it in an instant. So much for self control.
        The man next to you watched in awe. He already knew far more about you than whatever first impressions you thought you gave, courtesy of Jackson. But he was one to always doubt the extent of the things he said, and since forming odd suspicions of you at the office, he figured now was the time to see if anything added up. 
“Escapism?” The sudden voice shocked you, and brought you back to reality. Another snort made its way out your nose, in an endearing manner.
“You can say that. No, you know what? Life is a bitch.” In your drunken manner, you broke. You vented, you ranted, and you rambled. You laid out your entire life in front of this man, this stranger, revealing more than what was necessary, but you couldn’t stop yourself. “And now here I am.” Fingers tapped the counter, antsy. Waiting for Jackson to come back and serve you yet another shot to calm down.
“I see, I’m sorry for all that. Things are looking up now, at least?” Yoongi shrugged, a winced expression since your story was still fresh in his mind. “But, if it makes you feel any better, I have some fucked up shit going on myself."
“Oh really? A divorce? Family exile beats loveless marriage any day, boy.” Another side effect of your alcoholism was straight up competitiveness. Even though it stung him, he couldn’t help but laugh. For him, it even felt like the first time in a while he had done so earnestly.
“My wife is pregnant.” Whiskey glass was brought back to his lips for a moment, barely touching them. “And it’s not mine.” He finished off the remainder of the glass, while you stared in silence, jaw dropped.
“Whoa, that sucks... How do you know though?” You brought your face closer to him, in curious intrigue, not knowing what personal space was; but he didn’t mind much as he inched in a bit closer to speak.
“I had a vasectomy.” A sighed escaped his core as he too revealed his life to a stranger. “Before we got married, we were clear that we didn’t want children. At least not for a long time, so I got the surgery done. If we ever wanted kids we would have a talk and take out time to decide how to go about it. But one day,” he shook his head, thoughts lost in the memory “she was very persistent that I go get the reversal done. Like, that I had to get it done that week. And I found that suspicious, so I pretended to get it.” His fingers now mimicked yours earlier, lightly tapping on the counter. “We waited the recovery time, had sex, and a few days later, she was pregnant. So I filed for divorce. Do I win now?” His usual serious pout curled into a smirk as you shook your head no.
“Nah, I still win. You can always get a new wife, I can never get new parents. I don’t make the rules, chief.”
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        The mood was starting to liven up, but the universe often threw curveballs in your direction. Text alerts distracted you from your office chatter with Yoongi, and again, you soured. It wasn’t often when you received messages from your cousin, but you never talked about the elephant in the room. This time, however.
‘Your dad’s been asking about you lately. Anything worth mentioning?’ You watched the words fade from the pop-up screen, and debated in silence. The shift was visible, and Yoongi caught it as it happened. “Is everything okay?” he asked. Instead of answering, you simply opened the chat and showed him the message. Grabbing your phone in his hands he stared.
“Do I answer? Do I just leave it for tomorrow? What could I even bother telling?” Complaints continued to spew out of your mouth, muting the light clicks of Yoongi’s rapid fingers working on the keyboard. You’re only brought back from your rambles when you feel him pressing your phone still in his hand, back into yours, a message already written out in the text box.
‘I just started at a new office job. Safe, secure. It’s working out.’ Short, simple and to the point. A quick nod was enough for him to press send. As he pulled away, leaving you with the chat which was instantly read, you expected to feel a bit better, but your worries and anxiety remained as your fingers drummed at a quickened pace, itching for yet another shot. 
        Right on cue, Jackson’s presence made its way to you. Catching your tells, his hands moved straight to the Schnapps.
“Actually, I think she might be better off with water instead.” You shot daggers at him, annoyed at such an assumption. “Same for me. You said you won’t drink past 6:30. I don’t make the rules, chief.” You couldn't grumble out much, because as much as you desperately wanted to be irresponsible and drown your sorrows in waves of alcohol, you had a new, very decent, job to uphold. And that required showing up sober.
        The rest of the night went by pretty decently, ending with a new weird routine of going home early instead of waiting until Jackson finished closing off, to drag you all the way to his car. The nights you drove to your home from the bar were less than the ones he posted you up at his own apartment. 
“You’re good to drive, right?” This time, it was Yoongi who was nice enough to walk you over to the beat up Verna at the end of the lot.
“Surprisingly enough, I am. Thanks.” Sticking the key into the lock, you jiggled it around. The only sure way to open the door these days. “What about you?”
“Considering I only had one glass of whiskey, I think I’m alright.” He motioned over to the Genesis next to you. “I’m gonna head out. Drive safe.”
        You nod and make sure he's at least safe besides his car door before entering yours. Turning back briefly to look at you, your goodbye wave stops halfway as his words reach your ears.
“Lunch tomorrow.” Is all he says. he doesn't even bother waiting for a confirmation, he simply gets inside his car and drives away.
        Starting up your car was always a hassle but you got it kicking in no time. As you pulled out of the lot, you spotted the Genesis still at the empty intersection. You flashed your headlights twice before heading the opposite direction, and from your rearview saw him continue on his way. Despite all the characters and particular personas inhabiting the living bodies of your coworkers, you couldn’t help but think: Yoongi's just might be the most intriguing to you after all.
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