#place i applied to 2 MONTHS AGO while i still worked at my old job
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i am suddenly employed?
#place i applied to 2 MONTHS AGO while i still worked at my old job#suddenly called me and said hey can u come in tomorrow#no interview no nothing#just got off my shift#like?????#speaks#NOT complaining#my resume isnt stacked enough to be hired out of nowhere like this#EDIT:#JUST remembered i didnt even give them my resume i filled out a form
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٭* Not Too Late *٭
chino moreno x reader
Summary: Desperate for a job, you go out into the streets of Sacramento hoping at least one place will consider you. You come across a paper looking for a band’s new assistant. Little did you know, the band’s lead singer was your old best friend and ultimate back stabber.
chapter 2 ~ chapter 3
1k words
a/n: thank you guys so much for choosing my story to read ! i have been working on this story for months now and am passionate about it so any criticism is needed and accepted ! authors note’s are going to be a crucial part for understanding the story so please read them when you can ! also posted on my ao3 @romantic_daydream i hope you guys enjoy !
it was the summer of 1997. a month ago i had gotten fired from my job at a flower arrangement company and hadn’t had the motivation to get back up and look for work. i’m 20 years old still living with my parents because i dropped out of college.
mom and dad hated that i dropped out. they were already pissed that i had taken a gap year and started college at 19. i don’t know why though.
my dad barged into my room. “y/n! what do you think you’re doing?” he pulled my blanket that was covering me and opened the blinds.
“you can’t just be cooped up in your room all day! get up and go do something productive for once.” he yelled at me.
i groaned. “dad, it’s summer. i don’t wanna do anything.”
“y/n, you’re 20 years old with no job! i don’t wanna hear that there’s nothing to do when you can easily go out and get a job! now stop being a slob and go!” he slammed my door.
i sat up and looked around. my room was a mess and so was i. i will admit, ever since i lost my job, life has been shitty. my parents keep reminding me that i’m a nobody. i already know that. they think that telling me that will motivate me to get up and do something with myself. when i do, it’s always “wow you’re finally doing this for once?”
i shake off my thoughts and go take a shower and brush my teeth. i go to fix myself a cup of coffee and noticed my dad had left. i started thinking back to what he had said while i was making myself coffee. i hate to admit it but dad was right. i’m tired of feeling like a slob and a nobody and it was time i did something about it.
~
i was walking around town looking for work. i was able to apply at a handful of places already. i didn’t care what the job was, if i seen they were hiring on their door, i would walk in and apply. i noticed on a light post a big orange paper that stated “LOCAL BAND THE DEFTONES IN NEED OF AN ASSISTANT TAKE NUMBER BELOW FOR MORE DETAILS”
the deftones? i had never heard of them before but i do need a job. i ripped off one of the paper slips and went on with my day.
~
when i got home, i had called the number and i was told i would help the band with setting up venues and going out and getting whatever they needed last minute. they said to just show up at the address they gave me on saturday noon aka now today.
i was standing in front of what seemed to be an abandoned mechanics garage. there was a line of people standing outside of the door. i wasn’t expecting that much people to be here.
~
after around 40 minutes of waiting, i heard my name being called. i walked into the garage i had originally seen outside. i could tell that this was where they practiced since all of their instruments were here.
as i was looking around, i seen someone walking up to me.
“y/n l/n?” he read off a paper not paying attention to me. i recognized him though.
“camillo?”
he looked up. i seen him tense up when he realized who i was.
“oh great. i didn’t realize it was that y/n.” somebody walked up behind camillo and flicked his ear.
“what’s got your panties in a twist ?” he shaked my hand. “hello, my name is chi, i’m the bassist of the band.”
“nice to meet you, chi. i’m y/n.” i seen two people chatting together a few feet behind us. “and who are those people?”
chi shouted at them to come over. when my attention was on the two guys, i felt eyes on me. i looked over at camillo and he looked down at his paper. my attention was turned back to the two guys as they introduced themselves.
“i’m stephen, the lead guitarist.”
“and i’m abe the coolest drummer you’ll meet.” he winked at me. i chuckled.
“look guys, i can already tell, she doesn’t know what she’s doing. you need to leave.” camillo grabbed my arm and started pulling me towards the door. but my other arm was grabbed by chi.
“now hold on chino, you haven’t even given the girl a chance yet.”
“i don’t need to. i know her type.”
i pulled my arm out of camilo’s hand. “trust me, you don’t.” i glared at him. “if you don’t want me here then i’m completely fine with leaving.” i crossed my arms.
“there’s no need for that. come, sit.” chi pulled me and sat me down at the couch they had in their garage.
they all surrounded me and started asking me questions. i felt like i was being interrogated. they asked me questions about my favorite bands and if i had any previous experience in the music industry.
after around 20 questions or so, they all went to the corner of the room and whispered to each other while looking back to me. i tried to eavesdrop.
“guys, no. she cant be our assistant!” camillo exclaimed.
“why not? just because you’re the front man doesn’t mean you make all the decisions for the band.” abe told him.
“yeah and she’s basically perfect dude. you know it, i know it, we all know it! the chemistry is there! it feels like we’ve known her our whole lives and let’s be honest, everybody else who was here either was just a fan, here to meet us or genuinely kinda sucked.” chi explained.
stephen chimed in. “he probably doesn’t want her in because he can’t keep it in his pants.” they all started laughing while camillo’s face turned a bright red.
“you know what fine. you guys win this time.”
i turned my head to make it seem like i didn’t hear anything when they walked my way.
“you’re in.” they all said.
a/n: i hope you guys liked the first chapter ! i’m only posting this just to see how it does so if you guys want chapter 2, just comment it and i’ll post ! lots of love <3
#deftones#chino moreno#chino moreno x reader#chino x reader#fem!reader#chi cheng#abe cunningham#stephen carpenter#nu metal#mall goth#emo#alternative#grunge#goth#metalhead#1990s#1990s nu metal#bands#korn
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You’ve been doing sprites for a while now. What catalyzed your desire to make a game with that talent?
This is gonna be a doozy. Things are pretty bad on my side of things. I lost my job a year ago and haven't found stable work since. I've got some freelance here and there but I'm more or less living off my savings which are about to run out. I'm applying to places outside of my career but I'm a 34-year-old trans woman with exclusively animation freelance and some teaching experience, which means nothing in sales, fast food, or custom service. I lost my car because my partner parked it in a tow-a-way zone and since I work from home doing freelance I didn't notice til I went to go somewhere and the towing fee had built up beyond the worth of the car. So I'm inexperienced and don't have a car, which basically makes me unemployable. I've done some freelance animation work for some Youtubers but that's only netting me $800 every other month. I did get a "job" at an educational gaming company, but the promised hourly rate wasn't real and they were paying us in stocks of the company. I wasted an embarrassing amount of time on that. Did some pre-vis work for a friend but they still haven't paid me and no longer responding to my messages. I'm pretty depressed. I'm still applying to places left and right but I needed something to do with my time. My partner seeing me in pain sat me down and talked to me about having some kind of project. "Work on that comic idea, learn a new program you wanted to, make that game you always wanted to make, take a class" She knows I'm capable of a lot, even though at this point of time... I've lost myself in all the loss.
So I chose to work on the clown game. I had some assets I made a while ago, updated them, and started learning Unity, got frustrated and a friend suggested Godot. And things clicked. I've got something to live for again. I'm still under financial stress, but at least I'm making something. A friend suggested a Kickstarter, but I can't imagine people would want to give a first-time game dev money to make ANOTHER platformer. So it's mostly just a learning experience. I'm learning a new software, I'm learning a new language (GDscript), and who knows maybe I'll make enough of a game that I can release it and make a little something. Honestly, I just want to get to the point where I have enough content to make a demo for people to play. I've got 2 levels done! And it's only been a month since I started learning. And it's pretty polished for what it is! Long story short, my partner pushed me to learn something new and I'm having a blast making a game. Outside of the stresses and fear, it's the happiest I've been in ages. I love doing it. I just wish I could pay rent.
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WIP Wednesday
Fanonwriter2023 on AO3
Where CANON and FANON collide!
Season 7 FANON Speculation
I’m still working on chapter 4 of my multi-chapter fic titled “I’m still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!”
I’m enjoying writing this fic because it’s giving me the chance to unravel the mess that was 6x18 for Buck, Eddie and Chris. Also, it’s taking them places the show refuses to go including Buck facing his past (Taylor’s book just bit him in the ass at the end of chapter 3 and Eddie doing a self-evaluation journey so he can try new things, some of which he believes he missed out on when he was younger.
Chapters 1, 2 & 3 are already available on AO3 and chapter 4 will be posted soon.
The closer I get to completing chapter 4, the more excited I get and my goal is to finish editing it soon so I can post it by the end of the week. ___________ Here are two snippets from chapter 4 because Eddie’s in El Paso and Buck’s in L.A. ___________
Eddie
“I’m Captain Stanley Franklin with the 324 here in El Paso and did I hear you correctly when you said you’re a firefighter and a medic?”
“Yes, sir. I’m a firefighter and a medic with the 118 in Los Angeles.”
Captain Franklin nods his head then says, “That’s fine work you did to help this young man and those dressings you applied look great.” He tilts his head to the side but he doesn’t take his eyes off Eddie. After they stop shaking hands, he says, “Our station could benefit by having someone like you join our team. We just opened a new firehouse and we’re in need of more paramedics.”
Eddie raises his eyebrows because he wasn’t expecting that at all. He was just doing the thing he does every day, helping someone who was injured so this is quite a shock to him.
“Thank you, Captain Franklin but I…” He doesn’t have a chance to finish because Captain Franklin interrupts him.
“I have a spot open for you…” He says with so much confidence Eddie wonders if anyone on this team tells their Captain no. “It’s yours if you want it. So, do me a favor before you say no.”
Will Eddie return to L.A. after his vacation ends or will he take the job Captain Franklin of the 324 offers him with the EPFD 👀?
___________
Buck
He pushes the button on his radio and says, “Dispatch, this is firefighter Evan Buckley with the 118. I’m man behind and our engine and ambulance were dispatched to a call a couple of hours ago. Please send an RA unit to this firehouse to assist with a choking toddler. I performed the procedure to dislodge the item, the toddler is crying but I would prefer it if a paramedic checks him out to be sure he’s ok.”
A dispatcher whose voice he doesn’t recognize responds. “Copy that Firefighter Buckley, an RA unit is down the street, less than 2 minutes away and they should be there shortly.”
“Copy that dispatch and thank you.”
He lifts the toddler who’s still crying and says, “There, there. You’re going to be ok.”
“Buck?” The mother of the toddler calls.
He thinks he recognizes her voice and when he raises his head to look at her, it’s like he’s looking at a blast from the past because Ali Martin is the woman looking back at him.
“Ali?”
How will Buck handle it when he comes face to face with Ali Martin and her son 👀?
_________
Fic Summary: Months after Buck and Eddie were hit by the same lightning strike; they’re still struggling with the aftermath of it. But before they make their love confessions, they’ll spend time getting to know themselves as individuals first. Eddie learns to enjoy the simple things in life as he participates in activities on his own and with new friends while Buck learns the rest of the 31-year-old deep dark family secret about his conception and birth. Their journey to forever is still a work in progress but once they finally admit they’re in love with each other, everything that follows their love confessions will be cataclysmic.
__________
Chapter Summaries
Chapter 1 - Eddie makes a new friend while Buck receives devastating news regarding the sperm donation he made for Connor and Kameron.
Chapter 2 - Buck does a lot of research to learn more about the abnormalities found in his red blood cells and Eddie starts a new therapy journey that’s all about him and not the traumas he’s experienced.
Chapter 3 - After more than a month, Buck and Eddie finally spend time together outside of work but it doesn’t end well and they part with a lot of uncertainty regarding their places in each other’s lives.
Chapter 4 – Will be posted soon.
__________
Buddie Multi-Chapter Fanfic - Hiatus Reading
Read chapters 1, 2 & 3 on AO3.
No pressure tagging: @spotsandsocks and @shortsighted-owl.
#buddie#eddie diaz#evan buckley#christopher diaz#the buckley diaz family#buckley diaz family#911 fox#911 on fox#911onfox#911 season 7 speculation#911 season 7#Fanonwriter2023 on AO3#buddie fanfic#buddie wip#Buddie Multi-Chapter Fanfics#Buddie WIP Wednesday#ao3 fanfic#911 fanfic#Hiatus Reading#I'm still in love with you but I needed to learn how to love myself too
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10 First Lines Tag Game
Rules: share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written less than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway.
I was tagged by the amazing @fangqueen, and I’m with you on the haven’t-written-anything-in-a-while thing. I keep saying that I’ve been “getting back into it,” but I’ve said that for months now, lol. It has been a rocky process for sure. Thank you so much for your tag! I loved reading your snippets, especially number 10. 👀
My first four entries are from WIPs, since those are technically my most recent even if they aren’t published yet. The rest are in chronological order from my AO3. Looooooong text below the cut.
1. Cleaning out the studio was an all-day endeavor. There were old instruments gathering dust and new ones littering the chairs from their earlier practice, leaving no room for walking when combined with the boxes and knickknacks strewn across the floor. Roy carefully stepped over a fallen mess of rolled-up posters, then sidled on tiptoe around the corner of a CD rack he’d gotten from Ollie years ago, back when CDs were still cool. (Roy/Dick/Joey band AU.)
2. Harley can admit she’s a party crasher. That’s what she’s doing now, since she wasn’t officially invited to Mister Wayne’s fancy shindig at the opera house, but Selina had insisted her presence wouldn’t be a disturbance. Harley believes her. After all, Selina is Brucie’s favorite on-again-off-again squeeze, so she would probably know. (Harley/Selina cross-dressing PWP.)
3. Dick can admit when he has made a bad decision. The thing is, admitting his problem does not actually solve it, so here he is, the day after Bruce fucking Wayne put his phone number in Dick’s contacts list, paying more attention to the man’s texts than he is to his own job. He can feel Tim’s eyes on him from across the locker room, but he waits until he finishes replying to Bruce before he acknowledges the stare. “You look cute,” he says, like he wasn’t just ignoring him for the most eligible sleaze in Gotham City. (Club AU, part 4!)
4. The wind was picking up early tonight. Jason shivered through another gust, the chill biting through his insufficient layers like nothing. There would be no glory in quitting patrol early, though—least of all on Halloween night, when Gotham’s most colorful rogues always liked to create pandemonium. ‘Tis the season. (A Man-Bat/Jason PWP that was supposed to have been for Halloween/Kinktober last year...oops.)
5. Tim sits in the center of a dark garage, feeling hunted. There are two things he knows to be true in this moment. One of them is that he’s sitting on a chair with his arms bound behind it, wrists locked in place by mere cuffs. Nothing he can’t pick his way out of, given enough time. The other thing, the one that makes goosebumps rise on his skin, is that he’s here because he has pissed off the wrong man. (Caught On Tape. JayTim CNC kink—rated E.)
6. Dick had been working at this gaudy little nightclub for months. For a case, of course, and although the term undercover didn’t technically apply since he was using his real name and face, he considered it a near thing. (Let the Whole World Look In. BruDick costume kink—rated E.)
7. He found the Bat in the rubble of their latest engagement.Tonight had been disastrous for a variety of reasons, and with the latest Batarang swipe to the face—close enough that Slade swore it trimmed some stubble—he could admit he was reaching his patience threshold. (Gridlock. SladeBru stuck-in-a-wall non-con—rated E.)
8. The training room was supposed to be empty. Considering the time, with the sun beaming at its midday peak, Dick’s assumption had been that no one would be around to disturb his quest for solitary gymnastics. Damian was at school, and everyone else was usually still sleeping off the events of the previous night. (Whatever We Deny or Embrace. BruDick family fluff—rated T.)
9. Right now, there are a number of things Jason would like to address. An elbow is digging into his ribs, and he isn’t bound to anything, so it’s reasonable to assume he and whoever Dingus here is have been carelessly knocked out and dropped somewhere unsavory. (Boxing Clever. A body-swapping fic with many ships, but mainly SladeJay and RomanDick—rated E. This is only in my most recently published fics because of the final chapter update. This fic is from Kinktober 2020, lol.)
10. Tim was standing outside the door to Bruce’s office, headset hanging around his neck, mouth full of bubblegum, one hand poised and ready to knock. Casual as could be. A simple man on a simple mission who did not anticipate anything other than a brief interaction with his father figure. Inside the office, though, two voices spoke. (The Importance of Knocking. BruDick Tim’s POV—rated M.)
That’s a lot of text, phew. Tagging @withthekeyisking-writer @zeroducks-2 @sladedick !!
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SUCCINCTNESS IS SHORT
I had a copy of the New York Times front page. People will pay for content? The big mystery to me is: why don't more people apply? Why is everyone smiling? When watches had mechanical movements, expensive watches kept better time.1 Leave the people you'd spent your whole life with no hope of anything better, under the thumb of lords and priests you had to acknowledge as a boss—someone who could call you into their office and say take a seat, and you'd sit! But while DH levels don't set a lower bound on the convincingness of a reply, they do badly. That doesn't mean people are getting angrier. Their inexperience caused them to make it here is that great things happen to them too. It would be like mathematicians running Vogue—or perhaps more accurately, Vogue editors running a math journal. If you took a nap in your office in a big company, it would be more useful, instead of simply arguing that they are the same or aren't, to ask: to what extent does succinctness power?
I can answer that. A few months ago I ran into a friend in a cafe. So here is an even more striking statistic: 0% of that first batch had a terrible experience. That may not seem surprising. How grim it must have been to till the same fields your whole life with no hope of anything better, under the thumb of lords and priests you had to acknowledge as a boss—someone who could call you into their office and say take a seat, and you'd sit!2 The true test of a language is what happens in programs that take a month to write. The kids see to that.3
There has been a lot written lately about the creative class—you probably have to ban large development projects. It's the architectural equivalent of a home-made aircraft shooting down an F-18. Selling There have always been willing to do great work for free, but before the Web it was harder to reach an audience or collaborate on projects.4 The quote I began with was that, except in pathological examples, I thought succinctness could be considered identical with power. And then gradually modify it, but at its strongest it is far stronger.5 Will technology increase the gap between rich and poor? Hardly anyone is so poor that they can't afford a front yard full of old cars.
The second reason we tend to find great disparities of wealth alarming is that for most of my twenties.6 The list of n things. Prices will fall even further once writers realize they don't need publishers. If they'd understood the implications of the numbers they were publishing, they wouldn't have presented them the way they did. I'm not ready to predict our success rate will stay as high as 50%. Or perhaps it's because so many startup founders have backgrounds in the sciences, where collaboration is encouraged. I am now, but was among the poorest, or in one where I was the richest, but much worse off than I am now, I'd take the first option. If their startup fails, they'll have to get a job.7 Startups are fragile plants—seedlings, in fact.8 But this is so. Those helped get it started, but now that the reaction is self-sustaining what drives it is the true test of the length of a program would be the place to do it.9 Reproduced by permission of Steve Wozniak.
To programmers, hacker connotes mastery in the most literal sense: someone who can make a decent cheeseburger.10 As you've probably noticed, they have a personal stake in the outcome makes them really pay attention. And because this is so easy you can pick it up on the article. I still think 23 is a better age than 21. I had. I was hoping they'd reject it.11 How grim it would be more productive working at home on their own projects, and instead of trying to predict beforehand, so lots of people starting startups who shouldn't.
Because the people whose job is to sell you stuff are really, really good at it.12 So there is no way they'd have grown so much if they'd spent that year working at Microsoft, or even Google. That is in fact what venture capitalists do. Is it a problem if technology increases that gap? It seems a fine plan to start students off with the list of acquirers is a lot longer than that. Unless you have some plan for selling that valuable thing you got so cheaply, what difference does it make what it's worth? But I will give you a couple reasons why a safe career might not be what your parents really want for you. You can't say precisely what the miracle will be, if not better, at least for a while.
Let's start with the one everyone's born with. And if you don't.13 To hackers the recent contraction in civil liberties seems especially ominous.14 I don't think publishers can learn much from software. The web is turning writing into a conversation.15 Let them write lists of n things is a degenerate case of essay. He said it was never an issue, because everyone was so good they never had to talk.
And when wealth is something you're given, then of course it seems that it should be distributed equally.16 Could it be that, in a modern democracy, variation in income. A real essay is a train of thought, and some trains of thought just peter out. Does this sound familiar? Observation bears this out: within the US, the two senses of hack are also connected. If his lack of authority caused him to make mistakes, point those out. How do you tell? There's a huge gap between Leonardo and second-rate contemporaries like Borgognone.
Notes
By heavy-duty security I mean forum in the past, it's because other companies made all the worse if you're college students. Angels and super-angels hate to match.
Some of the previous round.
San Francisco, LA, Boston, or a 2004 Mercedes S600 sedan 122,000 or a complete list of where to see the old days it was very much better to overestimate than underestimate the importance of making n constant, it is. Few non-sectarian schools. While the space of ideas doesn't have dangerous local maxima, the transistor it is because other places, like languages and safe combinations, and configure domain names etc.
I think that's because delicious/popular is driven mostly by people who interrupt you.
It's sometimes argued that kids who went to prep schools is to talk about humans being meant or designed to express algorithms, and when given the Earldom of Rutland. But it's telling that it will become correspondingly more important for societies to be a distraction. Until recently even governments sometimes didn't grasp the cachet that term had.
Determination is the most accurate mechanical watch, the last round of funding.
I wouldn't bet against it either. That's why startups always pay equity rather than given by other Lisp dialects: Here's an example of applied empathy.
Since the remaining outcomes don't have the perfect life, the closest anyone has come is Secretary of State and the older you get paid to work late at night to make peace. But the usual way will prove to us that we should make what they really mean, in the latter case, companies' market caps will end up with much food.
These two regions were the people working for startups, because sometimes artists unconsciously use tricks by imitating art that is modelled on private sector funds and apparently generates good returns.
But Goldin and Margo think market forces in the computer hardware and software companies, executives at large companies. This plan backfired with the melon seed model is more important than the set of canonical implementations of the x axis and returns on the Daddy Model may be the next three years, maybe the balance of power programmers care about, just the most abstract ideas, just as it's easier to sell your company right now. I predict this practice will gradually disappear though.
Which is precisely because they actually do, so we hacked together our own version that afternoon. Incidentally, tax rates have had little effect on the scale that has become part of wisdom.
Default: 2 cups water per cup of rice. Actually he's no better or worse than he was otherwise unoccupied, to allow multiple urls in a bug. In When the Air Hits Your Brain, neurosurgeon Frank Vertosick recounts a conversation in which income is doled out by a central authority according to some abstract notion of fairness or randomly, in the bouillon cube s, cover, and Cooley Godward. Of the two elsewhere, but they start to be good?
It is just visual spam. I didn't realize it till I started using it out of just doing things, a copy of K R, and they begin by having an associate. In fact the less educated parents seem closer to what used to hear about the millions of people thought of them.
Many will consent to b rather than making the broadest type of mail, I asked some founders who go on to create a silicon valley out of business you should be specialists in startups. So it's worth negotiating anti-dilution protections. You won't always get a false positive rate is 10%, moving to Monaco would only give you money for the best VCs tend to damp this effect, at least consider going into the sciences, you can't mess with the exception of the incompetence of newspapers is that you can't easily get a job after college, but I think is happening when you see them much in the Sunday paper.
In fact, change what you're doing. Information is too general. They can lead to distractions even more dangerous than any preceding president, and also really good at squeezing money out of just Japanese. So where do we push founders to do more harm than good.
Tell the investors agree, and the older you get paid to work with founders create a portal for x instead of reacting. The best thing they can get cheap plane tickets, but you should always absolutely refuse to give up legal protections and rely on social ones. Big technology companies between them generate a lot heavier. Why go to college somewhere with real research professors.
Thanks to Trevor Blackwell, Robert Morris essay, Harj Taggar, Robert Morris, Jeremy Hylton, Steve Huffman, Sam Altman, and Geoff Ralston for sharing their expertise on this topic.
#automatically generated text#Markov chains#Paul Graham#Python#Patrick Mooney#names#Robert#topic#empathy#fairness#publishers#hate#maxima#something#melon#sup#numbers#people#fields#urls#programs#success#power#millions#way#ones#lack#Tell#increase
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some thoughts on ADHD and ASD
Hej, my name's Ise (she/they), 24 years old, student, and about a month and a half ago I was diagnosed with ADHD and ASD. I am currently in treatment (meds and therapy) for ADHD, but my doctor says that we should first tackle that before we look at its brother, ASD.
The too-much gene
Jenna Marble's phrase "too much gene" really resonates me, because when I get excited I also have a tendency to be a bit too much to handle. When speaking about my passions, I can talk anyone into a corner, and I will dominate any seminar if I find the subject even a bit interesting. I also have a strong tendency to be a "klugscheißer" or "besserwisser" (i think that is the more international one), so I will often correct people, not to show them how i am better than them but in the interest of creating the best product. I also gague when to make those remarks: I will not apply the same scrutiny to a text written by someone who is a beginner in that language as I would to a text written by someone who is a native speaker. I usually point out, correct and sometimes explain, but I dont belittle, e.g. by saying how elementary that is.
That too much gene also shows itself in my writing, as you might have noticed. What was supposed to be a straight forward short text turns into a novel. I have really big problems narrowing in on just one topic: when tasked to write a paper one any topic regarding scandinavian monarchy, I spend two months on researching the entire history of three royal houses and earldoms and in the end could not single out a reasonable topic for one term paper.
And I have a bit of anxiety that the ADHD meds will only make me more unbearable, more to handle.
2. How do I know they are working?
I am on a constantly rising dosis of Medikinet, as of today I am taking 30mg of them in the morning and another 20mg around mid-day. While I do notice the constant tiredness that had been bugging me has reduced, i still dont "think in HD", as my doctor said I might. I am still trailing off in class, but can nevertheless still answer when the prof asks a question. I can write a pagelong essay for the student magazine in one sitting, but thanks to hyperfocus that was something I could do before. I think that maybe my energy and my motivation has risen, but not so much my ability to (control my) focus.
There is also the general problem that I am a very critical person, not (only) as in self-critical but also very much as in critical theory, how do I know that what I am experiencing is real and not a simulation, critical. Okay, maybe thats a bit too much, but more like: how do I know the meds are doing their job and this isnt just a placebo effect taking place? And what if my increase in energy is simply due to my surroundings, the sun coming back and the end of the semester approaching, the new flat, different people I hang out with or my diet and exercise, and not the meds?
And additionally, how do I know that my brain does what it is supposed to do, when it has probably never in my life done that? (And lets not get into a rant about normativity here.) This is actually a thing I was already thinking about when I was about ten years old: how I can I know what I am feeling, both emotion and sensory/pain wise, when those feelings dont come with a label and I can never know what exactly someone else is feeling?
Life doesnt come with a pop-up menu for stats, where you can clearly see whether the pain your feeling is the worst pain imaginable or whether that little hitch in your breating is due to anxiety, walking up the stairs or a cold.
#autism#adhd#i had a third thing about taking meds to be a productive member of society but it got too complicated and i started getting distracted#responses are welcome
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You Are My Home
I DON'T OWN THE PICTURE
Information: This will probably have multiple parts but stand alone (?) I'm a bit nervous to post this cause this is a more personal uhh imagines 😂
Summary: It's been a long time since your friends saw you, a lot has change and you are in a better place in your life. Specially the relationship part
Pairings: Elizabeth Olsen x Reader
Theme: fluff
TW: none (?)
Word Count: 2,241
"Hey guys" you greeted, giving a small smile to your friends. It's been a long time since you all had the chance to talk together
Everyone has been busy and since you left your original city 2 years ago, the best you can do is chat with them once in a while
You are confident that the relationship with them is strong but you are sure many things have changed. But change is good, specially since you left with heavy heart and full of uncertainty
Right now you are in a good position in your life, and everyone is free, or at least made sure to make time. But still, the best you can do is video call for now
After 2 years this is the first time you've seen everyone. While they keep in touch and get together once in a while. You just were too far, both physically and mentally
"Hey, long time no see" Steve teased and you chuckled
"Damn you look good" Natasha commented "been taking care of yourself, I see"
You made a face and nodded "happy now I finally hit the gym like you always nag me to?" She chuckled
"Hey, just want you healthy"
"I know, thank you. Your voice is actually what pushed me in training" you leaned on the table, placing your cheeks on your knuckles "I can just hear you berating me for being so weak"
Everyone chuckled, agreeing that she does do that
"But in all seriousness, you look happy" Bucky complimented
Sighing, you nodded, finally at the position in your life where you can actually see yourself having a bright future
"I am, finally got my shit together, mostly at least"
The topic then transferred to your other friends, enjoying their presence even just from the screen. Laughing together just like the old times
"(Y/n)?" You turn your head to the voice, your girlfriend, Elizabeth calling for you coming from the second floor
"Darling, I'm in the dining" you answered and immediately heard footsteps
Without looking at the screen of your laptop, she smiled, excitedly tilt your head by your chin, kissing you deeply
Every one of your friends are stunned. Of course, you never showed them any public display, not like you had the chance anyway since you never really pursued anyone for years you were with them and now here you are kissing Elizabeth Olsen
Very famous actress, part of big filming companies, a producer as well
"Damn (Y/n)..." Natasha whispered and you laughed when Lizzie finally realized you were actually on a video call
"Oh no, sorry baby" she said wiping your mouth and hers with her sleeves, you shake your head to stop her
"You're fine, or not. But Lizzie, meet my friends" you gestured on the screen and Lizzie shyly waved at them. Blush dusting her cheeks as she pursed her lips into a decent smile. Your taste still lingering on her mouth
They said a quick hi to be polite then suddenly spoke all at once berating you for not telling them you are dating "the Elizabeth Olsen". The actress, the girl of your dreams
Then it was your turn to blush when Bucky mentioned that she's the reason you never had any interest in other people. She was just too 'shiny' to you, the other just seemed dull
Elizabeth looked at you with new found love in her eyes as you got bullied by your friends. She can't help but give you a quick kiss on the cheek before apologizing for interrupting your moment with them again
"Oh no, you did not interrupt at all. We probably wouldn't even know she's dating if you didn't come" Tony said and everyone told him to shut up
"It's not like how it sounds, Ms. Olsen. (Y/n) is very proud of you, she just really doesn't like speaking about her relationships" Peter explained and Elizabeth chuckled
"Oh I know, that's why we are not in public anyway" she patted your head "but it's okay. I don't want to drag her in the mess of Hollywood so if you can just keep all this between us" she gave everyone a small smile and they either shrugged or nodded
"No problem" Natasha answered "I'll make sure these idiots don't slip up"
Elizabeth gave them a big smile before she left to get breakfast. Once she is gone though they started attacking you with questions again
"Fine fine" you sighed, finally giving up "we met a few months after I left, I applied to the Marvel Studio as set decorator. I was fixing up the set the night before with a bunch of my coworkers so the shooting will proceed with ease. I'm usually just there at night so when she came looking for her phone, which I actually picked up and was planning to give to the lost and found before leaving, they pointed her to me. I gave it to her, she thanked me and that was it'' you shrugged
"Then how did you two got together"
Pursing your lips, knowing they wouldn't stop anyway you told them
It was the wrap up of the filming for Endgame. The biggest movie you will ever work with if you are honest
A bunch of A-listers are there and a lot of demands have to be met so for the first time, the whole movie you had to be in and out of the sets. You barely slept or ate in the past few months. You apartment even collected dust since all you did there is go home, take a shower, then go out
You mostly slept on set. By the end of the filming your body is screaming for rest. But you kept going anyway. This project is a very big deal for you, specially you lead the look of the set. anything that needs to be changed, moved, removed, added to the set goes through you
So basically, all day you stand in front of the set, watching the designers work their magics and you requesting changes, assessing the atmosphere in pre production and etc. and at night, clean up and set up is a bitch
One morning you were so tired you wanted to pass out there and then when Elizabeth enter the area. She was shooting all her parts today that can be soloed
You tried to keep yourself awake and alert to anything and everything so when you noticed an uneven ramp and props that she will unfortunately stepped on, your body started running before your mind can comprehend what's happening
She let out a squeal when she broke her ankle and fall but before she hit the ground and risk further injuries on her wrist that is sure to break her fall, you were catching her
But your body felt so weak that instead of staying up right, she fell on you. At least she wasn't hurt at any part of her body but you were, you hit your head on impact but it was minor
If ever, it only made you dizzy
She stood up and you did as well. You rubbed your hand on your face, ordering staffs to re-arrange and clean up the set so no more obstacle can cause accidents
You didn't even dare look at her eyes knowing those green orbs will suck your life out of you. You asked her if she's okay, also apologizing for the dangerous set up. It was overlooked that she would be indeed walking in heels, boots but heels nevertheless
"It's fine, I'm fine" she said, smiling but her eyes are full of worry "are you though? You hit your head when you broke my fall" she said, even unconsciously touching it
"Uh yeah..." you awkwardly smiled at her "it doesn't hurt, thanks" you then slowly back away. When the props have been arrange, the shooting started but your body felt so weak you had to call your assistant to cover for you
You went to the area where you always rested and slept. You were out for almost 2 hours when a cough woke you up. You sat up, rubbing your eyes and ask what they need without even looking at them
"I...brought you food, and coffee" your head snapped, looking at the voice you only dream of talking . She had a small and awkward smile and shy look in her eyes directed to you
"I was looking for you where you usually stand but noticed you weren't there" she explained, your face obviously gave your confusion away "I wanted to thank you again, the stunt director said that if it weren't for you, I would most likely break my wrist in that fall"
You slowly nodded, giving her a small smile "well, it was our fault for not triple checking the set"
"No no, please don't do that, accidents happen, I'm just here to thank you. It was me being clumsy too" You look at her with newfound admiration, a firm believer of 'never meet your idol, it will disappoint you'. But it wasn't the case with her at all
You are aware of the rumors that she's actually very kind, down to earth and serious with her job. It's a good rumor considering she is well known and if you are honest, you know deep in your heart it is true, but you never get your hopes up high
If only you met in a different circumstance, maybe you would think of trying to flirt a little but you know your place. This is a work situation and you need to be as professional as you can be. She is still an actress after all, you need to respect her space
It doesn't mean that she is being kind to you, it's an invitation to step into that space of hers. So you muster the most professional smile you can
"Well thanks, it's really no problem" you said with indifference and if you are actually not too much in your head, you will see her frown with the change of tone
She then handed you the food and the coffee "I'd actually like to talk more again sometimes" she said, swallowing the tightness in her throat "maybe for a coffee?"
The invitation did wonders in your body. Your heart is just beating a tad bit faster, your stomach filled with butterflies, your cheeks turning red. All the cliché reactions you can feel, it's there but then you moved and you groaned, your body sore from over work
You were so sure you wanted to say yes, but your body clearly wanted to say no. After this shooting, you just want to drop dead in your apartment and maybe wake up 3 months after
"I'm just so tired recently, I will be no fun" you chuckled, exhaustion dripping on every syllable "but hey, maybe a few weeks after the filming is done, if you are still up for it?"
The sadness of rejection from earlier was turned into a big grin. Her excitement sparkled on her eyes "sure, I'd give you my number then"
You nodded and gave her your phone. She didn't even have to ask for a password because you never put one in. It's easier since you give your phone to your assistants all the time to contact people for updates on props shipments and other business related matter
She excitedly tapped her number, saving it as 'Scarlet Witch' and that made you giggle. Using her screen name that's not even canon yet
"Okay, Scarlet Witch, I'll call you when I finally get some well deserve hibernation, then maybe I'll be more fun to talk to than a usual" She laughed and nodded and you are so sure you can never be more in love with her voice
She then said a few more things before leaving you to rest. You thanked her again for the food and coffee before she disappeared
"I can't believe you almost rejected her" Steve said wide eyed "she's like, your dream woman"
"Oh I can" Natasha said "(Y/n) doesn't hit uncertain, have you ever played with her on anything? All her hits are aces!"
"But it's like the chance of a lifetime!"
"Yeah! That's why you make sure you attack when you know it will hit!"
The two started bickering and you all just watched, laughing at their same old antics. Elizabeth then walk to your side, offering you a fruit bowl for breakfast, you thanked her and then invited her to seat besides you and she did, you kissed her off camera
"What was that?" She chuckled but tried to catch your lips again when you pulled away, you giggled at her pouty face
"Nothing, just suddenly can't believe I'm actually dating you" she sighed, giving you a small smile
"You might think that you're the lucky one but it's actually me" she said, pressing a hand on your cheeks and squeezing it lightly "you make my life whole, (Y/n), you filled the space in my heart where money or popularity cannot"
"And you picked up and fixed my broken pieces" you countered, leaning on her hand that's now just slowly rubbing your cheeks
"I guess we are both lucky then"
"Yeah"
Your eyes both glint the same way. Feeling like you finally found where you belong, in each other. You are home
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So I've held off on posting about our troubles because I've been getting sick of my Tumblr being nothing but sad shit.
However, there is new drama that's really just reignited old drama.
Bethy expressed an interest in working at the hotel. Workers get like a 40% discount on rooms when staying and she thought it would help mom out. Another worker is a teen and told her she should try to apply for cleaning. She's got almost everyone wrapped around her finger except that old bitch I mentioned a few times. The one who's rude to everyone no matter what.
She was going to wait for the night when her fav worker was on night shift to ask for an application because the dude likes her and opens the breakfast car early for her so she can actually eat before school. She had to quit her job at the pizza shop last month and misses earning money. Her checking account is running low as well so she just wanted to try something out while we're here since it's boring.
Bethy had a whole plan set up, and step-dad just fucked everything up. This happened like 3 days ago and he's managed to make it worse every day since.
So what happened was, he went to get coffee early morning. He's been nothing but a pain in the ass. 4 people to one room and he developed a habit of staying up until 5AM watching TV while the rest of us try to sleep. Bethy is dead to the world and won't wake up for shit, but mom and I aren't so lucky. He managed to get it down to staying up to only 2AM, but it's still pretty bad.
My schedule is fucked because the slightest of noise or light wakes me up or keeps me awake. Mom has chronic pain and only sleep in increments of 15 minutes if she's lucky. So we've been stuck being awake with him. I would be up at 6AM to get mom breakfast and did so for the past month religiously. BUT I managed to right my schedule enough to sleep from midnight until 8AM or so.
He woke up at 7AM in a bad mood, and woke mom and I up in the process. Then got pissy when he found out I hadn't gotten mom food, which meant he would have to. He'd deliberately been sleeping in late as fuck to avoid doing it because he never really wanted to. The breakfast bar stays open until 9:30AM so no one was saying he had to do anything but he went, bad mood and all.
Lo' and behold, old lady was still here and he, with his nasty attitude, got the bright idea to ask, not for a job application, but if Bethy could get a job at the hotel. He came back in a worse mood, shoving things around and stomping about, calling her a bitch and saying she was always so mean. She is mean and has no patience for anyone, but he doesn't get pity in this situation because he doesn't fucking think or know how to control his emotions.
1.) Grown man with no job asking for his 14 year old to get a job at this hotel. Doesn't look good.
2.) He is injured and unable to do anything requiring being on one's feet. The old woman doesn't know that or doesn't care. It doesn't matter. Thing is, he mentioned to us about thinking of getting a job at the hotel, but when he went up to her he only mentioned Bethy.
3.) It looks especially bad with his choice of wording. He asked for Bethy to get a job, not an application. Application leaves things ambiguous and she would have assumed he meant for himself or even me. But nooooooo. He only mentions Bethy and makes no mention of anything else, which looks really bad.
4.) From an outsider's perspective, it looks like he's planning to make Bethy work so she can use her discount on the room for us and then pay for the room with her paycheck. This is common sense. This is what most people would think if they see a jobless man walking around seemingly fine, and asking for his 14 year old to get a job in a hotel where he's barely able to afford keeping a night in and is struggling day to day to stay only on the good graces of strangers.
And then, we're having additional problems in other places because while Bethy's fav worker lady managed to keep us on a fixed rate for a month, they can't keep it up because the season is changing and the hotel is getting more expensive and the boss is taking notice of how may favors are being done toward this specific Room. It isn't looking good for us.
Step-dad is now trying to get Bethy to not go to school on Tuesday so she can help him transport shit from the hotel room to the van to the second storage unit. He was the one who kept insisting on bringing more and more shit in that we don't need, and is now throwing a tantrum because she can't miss school to help him. Bethy's school has used up all it's free days and then some because of Covid, snowstorms, bomb threats, and random power outage issues now and then. She cannot miss a full day of school for the rest of the year.
And he won't fucking listen! So she's crying because he ruined her plan to get a job, his attitude further put the old woman on edge around Bethy, he's bothering her over the damn transport shit, plus his jealousy over the workers liking Bethy is rearing its head again, and other shit going on that's making him a crab ass to be around.
So yeah, lots of shit happening. None of it good. We have to be out by Tuesday morning and have no idea what's going down as his tax shit is still pending despite how it was accepted the day he put it in. His perpetual bad attitude isn't helping anyone. Bethy is in tears from the stress of him and our situation and she just wants to be away from him, which in turn makes him more annoying because he's so damn needy and whiny.
I'm bitter af rn sry.
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Halo
Summary: y/n feels guilty for missing harry
Warnings: angst, slight fluff, mentions of vomiting and nausea, mentions of implied smut
Word Count: 7648 words
A/N: @devilinbetweenthesheet-s : don’t cheat and don’t do drugs, kids.
inspired by one of my anons. some parts are real and some parts aren’t :)
Tarnish (1) . Halo (2) . Reign (3) .
Reign Taglist
___
When the relationship ended, Y/N imagined being bed-ridden. A lack of motivation to do anything casual such as standing. Watching the television seemed to be a task that required all of her energy and full-attention to be able to understand the subtitles on the screen. Her friends would knock continuously on her door to be met with no response because she was asleep or Y/N couldn’t be bothered with pitiful conversation asking her if she was okay. She would be too tempted to ask how Harry was doing when she could easily pull out her phone and search his name in a few quick taps. These used to be easy; as easy as breathing and loving Harry was easier than loving herself.
How was he doing? Y/N hoped that Harry was regretting his actions. She was yearning for the vibration of her phone to restart her heart like an AED stuck to her chest, sending her pulses to remember that they were not what they used to be. Or maybe the snippy ringtone Y/N had set specifically for him and only him would ring through the air as she wallowed in a burrito blanket. Frankly too emotionally worn out to even move an inch as she watched her phone face down on the bedside table of her new apartment.
Life doesn’t wait until Y/N is capable of being back on her feet before thundering down with the foundations of living. Five days into the breakup did she realize that the money she had saved up would be spent faster than she can replace it if she stayed any longer at the hotel near the heart of downtown. It was a spur of the moment decision to ‘treat herself’; she thought she deserved it after being called names and thrown aside like a used toy. And on the fifth day, she was on the lookout for places to live in as she adjusted to her new life without Harry.
It wasn’t like Y/N was completely dependent on him. She had a well-paying job; just not as good as his. And she could afford a nice apartment, just not as nice as his mansion. Nor did it have the same toasty feeling that enveloped her when she walked through the doors. Y/N told herself that she would give it a few months; that maybe it was just the change in setting that misplaced every bone in her body because everything she did felt off. Deep down, Y/N knew that things weren’t the same without him. She could either live a life reminiscing how she--they--used to do things or she could change and adapt to this ball thrown at her.
The decision was in her hands, yet she hesitated with every gambling thought crossing her mind. On one hand, she was used to a routine. It was a routine that never got boring to her, solely because Harry found a way to make things interesting; refreshing. On the other, Y/N would be in a never-ending comparison of how much she missed him or pat her shoulders because she was able to compromise the old parts of her that existed when Harry was around and to integrate it with a new version that was wary of anybody getting close to her.
The challenge was not easy when the media got hold of the news. It seemed as if everywhere Y/N went---mixed reactions and judgement attacked her with doe eyes offering the best of luck or disgusted snickers telling that she deserved it and that they--Camille and Harry--were perfect for each other. But when Y/N quite literally was carrying a piece of him and her inside her stomach did she step up to what she had to become to raise her baby.
It seemed like yesterday when Y/N stared at her reflection in the en-suite bathroom of Harry’s home, pinching at a subtle layer of fat that she was sure wasn’t there a few days ago. Bloated cheeks that added a fullness to her face were substituted as the result of a bright smile plastered on her face because she Harry had pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead before she left for work that day. The sudden aversion to fragrant foods she absolutely adored flew right over her head and excused as a bad batch.
And the most painful memory was the day Harry and Y/N’s relationship ended. The beginning of something new, something beautiful was right under their noses. Y/N wondered what could have happened if she didn’t find the letter. When the symptoms of pregnancy became more obvious each day; would Harry notice the change in her physique? The crinkle of her nose when met with a sandwich containing pickles that she used to love?
Y/N couldn’t help but envision holding the stick with a tiny ‘+’ pixelated by dark colours. Sitting on the closed toilet seat as she contemplated delivering the news to him in the early hours of the morning after she was awoken by a flush of morning sickness. Y/N daydreamed about watching his sleeping face smooth out of any lines as he dreamed peacefully and wondered if this was still a part of what he wanted with her. Maybe she would jostle him gently, rousing him with a poke as she kneeled on his side of the bed, flailing the pregnancy test between her fingers until he blinked the sleep out of his waterline. Harry would present her a doozy smile before realizing what she held--to which he would sit up faster than he had ever done, gazing at her with a pleading stare. For Y/N to confirm that yes, she was pregnant. Yes, they were going to have a baby and yes, Harry was going to be a father. A little family in the works.
But that daydream was reeled in like a fishing hook in grave waters as reality grounded her. She was apparently two months into her pregnancy when Y/N had mistaken the sickness as an inevitable reaction to finding out his infidelity. Hearing him say the term of endearment as if he had not used it with another person made Y/N want to grab him by the shoulders to hold a steady contact, jostling him until answers spilled out of his mouth. Answers that Y/N deemed justifiable but was there ever a good excuse for cheating? She wanted to strip him out of the apologies filling his mouth and get straight to the question of why he had done it. But even then, Y/N knew that there was no way she was going to be satisfied with his answers. It was just a matter of her accepting that the idea of ‘what could have been’ would live inside her head because she was the only one that knew about the life inside of her.
Harry had not made an effort to speak to her besides arranging the dates to pick up her things. She had to wear large clothes to hide her growing belly because Y/N wasn’t sure if she even had the right to tell him something so personal anymore. It fit well with the narrative that she was a depressed homebody that craved the touch of his fingertips on her skin, the taste of his lips on her tongue and the weight of his arms around her. Albeit that he was the father, Harry had obviously moved on way before they ended; a little over a year ago now to be precise.
Y/N was almost one-hundred percent sure that Harry had blocked her number. Scratch that, she was certain if the way her messages failed to send were anything to go by. She could handle seeing the handle of ‘read’ on the bottom of a message because at least she’d know that Harry did read it and that he was aware. But watching the encircled, crimson exclamation point appear was just another reminder that he planned to erase four years from his life to start anew.
____
So what if at four months, Y/N was attending another doctor’s appointment by herself, trying to amount to as little attention as possible? Well, today was the day that she was going to find out the baby’s gender. Her bump was definitely noticeable now and extremely uncomfortable especially sitting on a plastic, grey chair in the waiting room. The device in her hand felt like stone perceiving the icon of blaring red that indicated yet another failed message to the contact previously named ‘My Love’, now to just ‘Harry’.
Y/N: I’m finding out the gender of our baby today
Y/N: I’m hoping for a girl but either way, I just want the baby to be healthy.
“Y/N? Dr. O’Sullivan is ready to see you,” The nurse clad in scrubs walked out with a clipboard gripped in her hands.
Y/N stood up, pausing to retrieve her items. She took a breath before entering the room, catching sight of the doctor in his stereotypical white coat focused on the computer screen that showed her information.
“You know what to do. Good luck today,” The nurse mused, handing her a folded hospital gown to change into as she pointed towards the direction of the room with a little nook to change privately. After struggling a bit with pulling off her top, Y/N tied the strings of the hospital gown.
“Hi, Y/N. How are you today?” He asked, standing up to gather the items he would need. Y/N made herself comfortable on the small bed, the white paper crinkling as her weight shifted.
She sighed deeply, “I’m alright. Really excited, actually,” A grin appeared on her face with just how close she was to find out the gender of the baby, “How about you?”
“Good as always,”
Connor O’Sullivan was the name of the doctor. They met when Y/N was in search of the top-tier family doctor’s around the city and instantly had a connection. He had a trustworthy aura that Y/N deemed acceptable to guide her to a healthy pregnancy. A friendship had definitely blossomed around the doctor-patient boundary but they stayed within their limits. Inside jokes existed but it had never crossed the line. And sure, touches to the shoulder happened once in a while but nothing had escalated further.
Y/N’s baby bump was exposed to the cool room. She shivered when a gloved hand applied the gel on her taut skin. Stretch marks were littering the sides of her tummy. It was itchy and uncomfortable. However, it was tolerable especially after applying a combination of creams and oil to soothe the ache. It was also another reminder that she really was about to become a mother.
“Cold?” Connor teased with an easy smile. Y/N rolled her eyes upwards in response, “You’re the doctor here,”
He chuckled, directing her attention to the small screen beside them. The static fizz of black and white slowly morphing to a more discernible image as he attached the device to her skin, finding the perfect angle to produce a clear picture. The first time Y/N saw her little baby; it was the size of a lemon. The next couple of visits showed progression in their growth; tiny baby feet, stubby legs, and sprouting fingers could be seen on the ultrasound.
They looked more and more like a proper baby now--like the ones one would see in the clinics and Y/N really couldn’t believe that she was about to find out their gender. Y/N couldn’t tell just by inspecting the picture because of her lack of expertise.
“You’re having a. . .” Connor began, edging his voice at the last word. He wiggled his brows as Y/N’s eyes widened.
She balled her fists, “Oh, hell. Just spit it out, C,”
“A girl. You’re having a little girl,” He peered up at the patient, watching tears fill the brim of her waterline as she gasped, palming her slightly open mouth.
“A-a girl?” Y/N craned her head to look at the square image, blurrier because of the tears but beautiful nonetheless. “I can’t believe I’m having a girl,”
The doctor wiped the gel off of her tummy with a cloth, switching off the machine as he waited for another reaction out of her. Y/N tossed her legs to the side, putting on her slip-on vans to fully-comprehend the news. “I’m having a baby girl,”
Connor nodded, releasing an ‘oomph’ at a sudden pressure around his middle. Y/N wrapped her arms around him, feeling the tube of his stethoscope dangling against her cheek. Her lashes fluttered, happy tears streaming out. He returned the gesture with soft rubs on her lower back.
“I’m sorry, I’m so emotional,” Y/N pulled away with a huff, using her fingertips to rub the wetness towards her temple. “I’m so happy but I just wished that he was--,” She cut herself off, pursing her lips as an image of Harry carrying their baby appeared in her head.
“I understand, Y/N.” Connor mirrored her distraught expression as he really did feel sorry for Y/N. However, he couldn’t explain the extra twinge in his heart at seeing her frown over a lost love. “You’re doing great on your own,”
She sighed for possibly the tenth time that day, “We both wanted to name her Halo if it’s a girl or Arlo if it’s a boy. It reminds me of what an angel she will be,”
“Wait until she gets older,” Connor joked to lighten the mood, receiving a glimmer from Y/N. “What d’ya say you get changed and I’ll print out this ultrasound, sounds good? A few more months then we can meet baby Halo,”
Halo.
___
Harry’s relationship with Camille was a dream. It was everything he imagined, maybe even better. The first time they dabbled on getting together was four years ago, before Y/N was even around in his life. There could be so many things right about a relationship and it could still be wrong. Maybe it wasn’t the right place, the right time, or they simply had too many disagreements and flaws that both parties were unwilling to work it to make them--work.
Usually, the third time would be a charm but Harry felt that he and Camille didn’t need a third time. As he said, the past couple of months felt like a dream. He could close his eyes and still feel the soft skin of the woman he loves grazing his fingertips. He couldn’t help but transpire into a new chapter of their love; one where it wasn’t just them tumbling in the sheets. When the squeals in the kitchen while making breakfast were paired with pleads for whipped cream on their pancakes; a child.
Harry was old enough to know what he wanted--at least, he thought he was--and a family was in his books. He finally found a partner who had the same mindset in their future; Camille. At first, he was absolutely sure that Y/N could not be erased from; but her name wasn't set in stone and once he found someone better--no way in hell was he going to let that be a missed opportunity.
__
Camile sighed softly, laying on Harry's bare chest as he pulled the sheets over their clammy bodies. Their orgasms settled in their veins, the rush and panting breaths calming down with each blink of an eye.
With her finger swirling patterns on his skin, Harry stared at the ceiling in hesitant contemplation, “Babe, have you ever thought of getting off the pill?” She paused.
“Uh, sure, but then we would have to use a condom?” Her voice raised at the end in curiosity.
Harry released an awkward chuckle, gently swivelling her body off of him so he could sit up. Reaching over, his fingers found the flip of the light switch that turned the bedside lamp on. He smiled at her appearance, mirroring his stance as she sat on the bed, a sheet clung around her body.
He shook his head, “No, no. No condoms, no pills and, y’know. . .”
The confusion was evident on Camille’s features, “I don’t exactly understand what you’re trying to say, H--,’
“‘M asking if y’wanna try for a baby, love.’
Silence overtook the room. Harry held his breath in his throat, seemingly trying to swallow down the lump that had formed because of her lack of response. She cleared her throat.
“A baby?” Harry nodded with excitement despite the flat tone whipping past her lips. “I--don’t know how to say this, Harry. I’ve never wanted kids.”
His face fell, the words lingering around his head like a flock of birds. The dizzying epiphany rattled his head clear of any other thoughts besides the fact that there was a hole in his book; burnt and toasted with sparks inkling his skin.
“W-why not?” His palms fell flat on the silky sheets, fisting the fabric to keep him settled. “A mini you and a mini-me running around the house. Won’t that be fun, baby? Don’t you want that?”
It almost hurt Camille to see the grin plastered on his face, hopeful eyes practically begging her to change her mind. But she couldn’t.
“Harry, that part will be fun. What won’t be fun is getting huge, morning sickness, weird cravings, hormonal imbalance, the aftermath of labour, the sleepless nights, the puke, the changing diapers, the back pain, the headaches, the fights when they’re older and so much more” Her accent rippled with each explanation rejecting the idea.
Harry huffed, crossing his arms subconsciously to shield himself, “But it’ll be worth it,”
“It won’t be,” Camille scooted closer to him, situating herself on her knees so that she could look into his eyes clearly. “Look, I made up my mind ages ago and I thought you felt the same since you haven’t settled down yet”
“I was jus’ lookin’ for the right person,” His head dipped down, dropping his gaze their intertwined hands. “It’s gonna’ be okay, Cam. We can make it work. We’ll have our own family. We’ll be okay,”
She shook her head in refusal, “It will be okay for you, H.” Harry could feel her hands itching to slip past his. He held her tighter. He didn’t want to lose her. “You can get back to work immediately. I’m a model and it takes time to lose weight. Even when I do--I won’t look the same. It’ll take me months, if not years to even resemble my present body.
“I don’t care how your body looks. You’re still gonna’ look amazing. You think I won’t love you after birthing our little baby?” With brows pressed together, he pouted his lip in curiosity as she rolled her eyes.
Camille sighed exasperatedly, “I don’t want children, Harry. The sooner you understand that the better. It’s MY body. I’ll be carrying the kid around for 9 months. No thank you.” She stood up, stumbling slightly as the sheets tangled around her feet.
He followed suit. His height towered over her as she crouched down to collect the pieces of clothing strewn around haphazardly in a rush to have each other. “But it’ll be MY baby, Cam. OUR baby, don’t you want that?”
Fingernails dug into the skin of her palm, holding her clothes as she spoke, “I don’t, Harry. Why can’t you just accept that?”
In the heat of the moment, Harry couldn’t help but quell the ache in his chest with a memory he thought he had thrown away, “Because Y/N and I planned to have a family. A-and I thought you and I could have one too,”
Camille huffed, keeping her distance. She walked to the bathroom, “Well, maybe you shouldn’t have fucking cheated on her then,”
___
His fight with Camille left the both of them on edge, barely able to handle the thick tension surrounding the house. Even though she took refuge in the bedroom and Harry wandered to the kitchen to cool off; it was impossible for them to stay in one place without having another argument.
Harry didn’t mean to let the memory slip past his lip. He hated it when he found himself comparing his past relationships to his current one. He felt that there was no need to do so, especially when the point of all of it was to start anew. Harry guessed that his desire to have a family was too powerful to keep his thoughts in check. The ache bubbling in his chest rose to a boil with each rejection that Camille answered with.
It wasn’t like he didn’t respect her decision. He really did. But Harry didn’t know if he was going to be happy being with her without progressing into something more through the years. What he was asking from her is just as difficult as what she was asking from him. Camille didn’t want to have children and Harry didn’t want to not have kids. There was no room for compromise if they both, mutually, wanted to respect each other's' decisions’ to the absolute fullest. However, the chances of him living a content life were zero to none.
And that was how Harry ended up at a bar, alone, at nine o’clock in the evening. They were invited by his friend, Kora, to a birthday celebration. Harry was reaching the limit of his threshold having to fake a smile and a chuckle while saying, “Camille’s feelin’ a bit sick tonight. ‘S just me,”
The thing with this celebration was that Kora was initially Y/N’s friend. He and Kora had become close friends while he was with Y/N and he guessed that that was the reason why he was invited. Although, it made him wonder why one of Y/N’s best friends invited him when she was aware of what happened between them. Surely, there was no way that Kora would invite Y/N, Harry, and Camille to the same crowded space, would she?
The sudden nervousness swirling at the pit of his stomach came with a quick neck as Harry scanned each premise of the bar. It was difficult considering the dim lighting and endless amounts of heads moving against each other. He hoped to see Y/N; just to see how she was doing! But he also felt like puking the alcohol he consumed because--as much as he wanted to admit it or not--he missed her.
After a half-hour of being vigilant, Harry willed himself to relax by the counter. Leaning one elbow on the wood as he spoke to another person regarding his upcoming album.
‘Yeah, yeah. It’s goin’. ‘M really excited for it cause’ I’ve got a lot of inspiration for some reason,” Harry answered with unyielding precision.
“We both know where that came fro--Oh hi! Sorry, H. Gotta check in on, Johnny,”
He rolled his eyes under closed lids, sipping on his drink, eyeing Kora when he heard a quip of Y/N’s name. Harry inconspicuously moved closer to her, making sure that he didn’t catch her attention.
“You’re not here,” Kora yelled with a whine to her tone. Her drunk self was still coherent enough to embark on the bartender to make another drink for her. However, Harry guessed that her senses were obscured with the way she yelled through the phone despite it being held to her ear and the function tapped to ‘speaker’.
“I know. I’m sorry. I promise to make it up to you, Kora,” Y/N’s gentle chuckle rumbled through the speaker, making Harry smile. It was the first time he heard it in a while. He sometimes wondered if he had the right to feel relieved when Harry was the one that blocked her number in the first place.
“It’s my birthday! Why aren’t you here drinking with us?” Kora quietly thanked the bartender.
Harry’s curiosity spiked; why wasn’t Y/N here tonight?
“It’s because I’m pregnant, silly. Can’t really do that when I’ve got a bubba in my tummy,” Both women giggled, Kora, making a sound of acknowledgement, “Ohhh right!”
He really wished that he would have stuck by long enough to hear more of their conversation but Kora’s boyfriend was approaching her and he wasn’t in the mood to discuss anything if he was honest.
She moved on fast, Harry thought. He was definitely sounding like an entitled jerk. Hear him out though; Harry was happy with Camille. Yes, he had been cheating on Y/N for a whole year and yes, she had to find out through a letter but Y/N was pregnant.
Did she really move on that quickly?
___
Despite the guilt gnawing at her for missing her best friend Kora’s birthday, Y/N was also looking forward to getting some sleep. It was a couple of hours after their phone call together when the nauseating tightening of Y/N’s chest woke again and had been for the past three days.
It was a horrible feeling that spread from the confines of her stomach. The bile rising up from her throat that left a burning feeling from the acids that escaped her mouth as she quickly threw the covers away from her legs, running towards the direction of her bathroom where she emptied the remnants of her stomach from last night’s craving of pickles and hot Cheetos. Her chest heaved with exertion as she draped her arms over the white porcelain of the disinfected toilet, hunching over as her stomach seemingly pumped away toxins.
Y/N wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, visibly shuddering as she pointed a finger to flush the toilet. She had a feeling that she won’t be getting any more sleep despite the time being three o’clock in the morning. Halo was insistent on staying up past normal bedtime hours. Y/N sighed, walking lethargically towards the dresser to retrieve her phone before heading to the living room nearby.
Y/N: You up, doc?
The blue loading bar swooped to the right as Y/N sent a message to Connor. She was at the peak of her pregnancy and her due date was occurring within a few weeks. A lot had changed since the day she found out the gender of her baby. Between the emotional trauma of having been broken up with--the hard-hitting fact was that Y/N was pushed into a direction of pregnancy that wasn’t exactly her ideal path. She pretty much preferred the dream-like sequence of having Harry accompanying her to her ultrasounds.
Just as Y/N was about to delve into another imaginary scenario of Harry sending her cute baby onesies that he would absolutely need to purchase for their little one, the humming of her phone pulled her from drowning in pathetic wishes and desires.
Connor: What’s up, Y/N?
She jutted her lips as she typed out a response. Contemplating whether or not to send the message as Y/N’s thumb hovered over the arrow, she paused to wonder why she was feeling so guilty in texting another man months and antecedent her break up with Harry. He was happy with someone else, yet Y/N felt as if her feet were planted in a puddle of sticky glue; unable to move on from the life she built in her head. Although it hurt to admit that Harry only existed in her memories now, reminiscing the spoken words they have discussed was another stab to her already bruised heart.
Y/N: Halo’s keeping me up again..
Connor: Want me to come over?
To keep you company
The reply was instantaneous and she could not deny the flutter of her heart beating subtly despite the extremities it had endured. And Y/N couldn’t help but notice the jitter of her baby bump morphing a plump bulge where Halo had kicked it as if it was a stamp of approval of the man coming over.
It wasn’t the first time that Connor drove to her place at the brink of dawn to keep her company in case the sickness became too much for Y/N to handle. The first time was simply a desperate action because she was rattled by the sudden spike in dizziness and incoherence of her sickness that Y/N wasn’t confident in herself to handle it alone. Times after that were more for his comfort when Connor said that he would ‘rather be safe than sorry’ while he rubbed his palm up and down her back.
Minutes later, a knock on her door sounded, forcing Y/N to haul her plump body to the comfort of the sofa, pausing the rerun of a television show. She waddled towards the entrance, the fit of her pyjama waistband snuggly wrapping around her mid-belly. A stretch of skin exposed between her bottoms and her tank top.
“Hi, thank you for coming,” Y/N greeted shyly, widening the door to let Connor in as he chuckled, toeing off his shoes by the closet door.
He waved her off, “It’s no problem, really,” Connor assisted her back to her couch, aiding her by letting his hands stabilize in the air in case anything happened.
The moment their bottoms hit the cushions did Y/N realize the gravity of the guilt spiralling in her chest. Connor laughed softly, his back resting on the couch with his right arm resting on the top, fingertips barely brushing over her shoulder. He reached over the coffee table to obtain the bowl of freshly popped popcorn, picking one to munch on but not before looking over at Y/N.
“Want some?”
She snapped out of her daze, cheeks heating profusely at being caught blatantly staring at how Connor fit naturally into her home both physically and metaphorically. He couldn’t have appeared at a better time when Y/N not only needed medical assistance and a support group by her side. However, she asked herself if he could be anything more than a friend. She shook her head ‘no’.
“No thanks. I’m quite full,” Y/N pressed a palm to her belly when a kick halted her breath. ‘Okay maybe a little,” She rolled her eyes, scolding Halo. “She’s a hungry one,”
“I’m gonna pop some more popcorn, kay? Be right back,”
Y/N heaved a sigh, watching Connor’s retrieving figure. Her admiration was cut off by the ringing of her phone.
___
Harry wasn’t so sober when he opened the door to his car. He wasn’t in his right mind either when he unblocked Y/N’s number and tapped on her name, switching the screen as it rang. He threw his head back against the headrest, biting his lip when the dial tone rang and rang.
“Hello?”
Harry’s breath hitched, losing his voice momentarily before his slowed brain caught up to move his tongue.
“Y/N? It’s Harry,” He spoke quietly, “Don’t hang up. Hear me out,” His ears stretched to pick up the click of a dropped call but he didn’t hear any.
“Heard from Kora that y’were pregnant, yeah? And I was wondering, whose is it?” The venom in his voice dripped. His drunken stupor rendered him unable to grasp reality.
“I’m not answering that,” Y/N’s tone was firm and direct. Harry could imagine her pursing her lips inwards.
“Why not? Scared that y’gonna have to admit that everything you put on was an act? How can y’move on so fast and give me shit about it?” The parking lot was filled with cars yet Harry could see that he was the only one currently occupying one. If there was a better metaphor of feeling alone in a crowded place; then he would love to hear it.
“Are you fucking kidding me, Harry? You cheated on me! You slept with another woman while we were together. You loved another woman while we were together. For an entire year, you lied to me and deceived me,”
“Jus’. . .answer the question,” He pinched his nose bridge, a headache pounding from the bottom of his skull.
“How dare you speak to me this way? You have no right calling me up out of nowhere,” Y/N lowered the volume of her voice, “and asking all these ridiculous questions,”
“S’not ridiculous,”
She gave a smile to Connor who entered the room with a bowl of delicious smelling popcorn. Y/N clutched the phone to her chest. Connor situated his body beside her with a glimmering smile, his mouth twitching as he eyed her bump, “Can I talk to her?” A gentle question breezed past his lips, moving closer when Y/N gave him approval.
The man kneeled down on the floor, leaning his head downwards to speak to Halo, “Hey little one, y’gotta be nice to momma, okay?” His fingers waved when her feet kicked out. Connor looked up to Y/N with a proud smile, “Did you see that? She responded!”
___
Harry felt his heart clench as a new voice filled the speakers. His neurons were fried with each thought firing endlessly, “Who’s that?
“Don’t call me again,”
The dial tone rung in his ears, echoing in the quiet space of his Range Rover.
___
Pressing the power button for a few seconds, the device turned black and was left on the arm of the couch. The excitement in Connor’s voice brought a dreamy smile to Y/N’s face, chewing on some popcorn. The beating of her heart seemed to double at the sight of him being so thrilled with her baby.
“We can’t wait to see you. I bet you’re gorgeous,” Connor dropped his volume to a whisper to prevent Y/N from hearing, ‘’Like your mom,”
Y/N’s relaxed and comfortable state of mind mindlessly worked her hands to thread the hair on top of Connor’s head. Just like she used to do to Harry. Her expression dimmed at the thought, painting a faint simper when Connor looked at her in surprise before shrugging it off, continuing to talk to her bump. She shivered when a warm pair of lips attached to the skin of her stomach. Gentle pressure planting a kiss as Connor said his goodbyes to baby Halo.
“She’s a smart one, that much I can tell,” He confirmed, moulding his body to the lingering shape he had left behind in his previous position. And Y/N was flustered to say that she might have scooched a little closer to his body, snuggling her head at the junction of his shoulder.
“Can I?” She asked, doe eyes raising a question that would allow them to cross the boundary they had limited themselves to. He nodded reflexively as if he was awaiting this moment. Connor took the initiative to pull Y/N closer to him, subconsciously kissing the top of her head. The scent of the woman’s shampoo wafting through his nose and invading his senses in a sweet smell that he would gladly immerse himself to.
It was the most pleasant feeling for Y/N to completely let go of her former worries about starting anew when Connor was as cozy as a heater. He made Y/N feel safe and secure with his body shielding her and his actions hinting at a subdued attraction he hadn’t fully shown to her.
And Connor was proud of himself for not quite literally freaking out when Y/N smothered her face to his chest as time passed and the sun rays filtered through the blinds as she fell asleep. Her words mumbled in a jumbled mess about how she wished that morning sickness wasn’t called morning sickness.
It wasn’t totally accurate, she complained. She thought that it was a misleading name; catfishing perhaps. He had chuckled in response, tracing his fingers up and down her arm and feeling goosebumps rise on her skin.
The orange hue of the bright star painting the sky lighter and lighter until the pitch-black sight morphed into a mixture of shades that could only be described as beautifully grandiose--just like Y/N’s sleeping face when the sun casts a shadow to highlight her nose, scrunching with the slight graze of the back of Connor’s finger rubbing the tip. Or the way the luminescence caressed the apples of her cheeks where her lashes rested, mouth puffing breaths of air as she allowed herself to be vulnerable for the first time in months.
___
A heavy feeling had settled into Harry's chest after Y/N hung up the phone. The new voice he had heard had unmistakably been a man's. Who was he? Was Y/N having that man's baby?
Before he could help it, Harry was seething. He saw red, and if he were in a children's movie there would be steam coming out of his ears right about now. How dare she move on so fast? How could she have a baby with another man so soon? But when he thought about it; Harry couldn't even recall how long it had been since they'd broken up. It made him feel somewhat guilty. He hadn't meant to forget her. It had just happened.
His guilt soon manifested into frustration-- her being pregnant was a constant reminder that she had moved on with another man. Insecurity clawed at his insides- did he really mean that little to her? 'You cheated on her', his conscience pricked, but he brushed away the thought. He hated being reminded of his infidelity to his fiancée.
His defence mechanism kicked in like clockwork, using aggression to shield his insecurities. He opened his messages app and clicked her contact, typing drunkenly.
Harry: 'Your a whore'
'You're*'
'Diid yu cheat on me? I bet youu did'
'Do u sleepp arond a loot?'
'fck u'
He smiled smugly at his phone screen, satisfied with what he had sent her. He shut his phone off, and started his car, ready to drive back home. He knew he was being irresponsible, but between his current girlfriend not wanting a child and his ex being pregnant with one; he couldn't bring himself to care. He drove himself home, only to find a terribly worried Camille waiting for him to arrive.
He glanced at the huge clock on the wall behind her. 1:32 am. He shrugged his shoulders and brushed past her to their bedroom. In his drunken gait, he knocked over a metal tray. The loud 'clang' made him hiss and clutch his temples, a headache pounding in his skull.
Camille sighed and made her way over to him, wrapping her arms around his torso and muttering a "come here, H" Despite his sour mood, he found himself craving affection. What he wouldn't admit was that he didn't crave Camille's affection in particular. He just wanted to be held and feel safe in someone's arms. Anyone's arms. But despite himself, he mumbled, "m'sorry I left like tha'. Should'nt 've spoken to ya that way,"
She nodded, pressing a kiss to his cheek, "It's okay, Harry, you're back home now. C'mon, let's get you changed and then let's sleep."
He bobbed his head up and down, willingly letting her drag him up the stairs to their shared bedroom, "Love ya,” Camille helped him out of his trousers.
She smiled softly, "Love you too, mon Cheri,” He giggled drunkenly at the showcase of her accent.
___
Harry woke up with a pounding headache, whining as his alarm rang at eight am in the morning. He opened his eyes to see that Camille wasn't in bed with him. His lips fell into a pout because of waking up alone.
There was a note on the bedside table.
'got called in for an emergency meeting for the show next week. be home by 5pm. love you!'
He sighed and reached for the glass of water she had left him. His brows furrowed when he didn't see Ibuprofen next to the water. Y/N left him ibuprofen beside the glass of water. Always. Harry snapped himself out of his daze, reprimanding himself for even thinking about her. Why is he thinking about her?
__
After a hot shower, Harry made his way downstairs to make himself breakfast. 'Eggs and toast', he thought. Placing 2 eggs in water and setting it on the stove before loading the toaster. He looked mindlessly through the drinks in the fridge, settling on 'Organic Orange Juice'. Y/N had introduced him to this particular brand after he had complained that all the others had too much sugar to be 'healthy'.
___
"This has no added sugar, H," she mentioned, "They sweeten it with honey."
___
Harry groaned, snapping himself out of the daydream, ashamed for thinking about his ex. Again.
He placed his breakfast on a plate and poured himself a glass of juice, sitting at the dining table alone. He chewed slowly with a mouthful as he unlocked his phone, beginning to go through his notifications.
Camille sent him a text. It was a selfie of her at her meeting, smiling and holding up a peace sign. He mirrored the expression, sending a text back
Harry: "stop being so cute"
He clicked the ‘back’ icon.
The second he does, his heart positively skips a beat. Not in a good way, either. Y/N's contact was just below Camille's, suddenly remembering the nasty things he had texted her the previous night.
"Fuck," He whispered under his breath, opening her contact. 'Read' was plastered under the messages he had sent. Y/N had seen them.
__
Connor had left a few hours later because he had morning rounds at the clinic the next day. Y/N had bid him goodbye with a shy kiss to the corner of his mouth,
“Thanks for coming, C,"
He smiled and pulled her into an embrace "Anytime, angel," into her hair. A warmth spread through her chest--one that she hadn’t felt in a long while.
After Connor drove off (with a final wave from his car window, of course), Y/N walked back in to settle on her couch again. Halo kicked a few times as she sat down, making Y/N squirm and giggle.
"Hi, you little goose! What's got you all excited, hm?" She rubbed over the area where Y/N felt the kick. As if, in response to her mother's voice, baby Halo kicked out again, right where Y/N's palm was. "Are you trying to high-five me, precious girl?"
Y/N cooed at her swelling tummy, a huge smile plastered across her face. "Or are ya just excited about Connor coming over to spend time with us? Got a good feeling about him, have you?"
She feels a gentle kick, it was almost as if the baby in her tummy wanted to say 'yes'. Y/N hummed softly, caressing her tummy, "Me too, angel. I've got a good feeling about him, too."
__
A few minutes later, Y/N reboots her phone her previously switched off phone so that she could see if Connor had texted her. He had.
C: Thanks for letting me spend time with you and Halo tonight. I loved it. I have a bit of time off on Sunday, do you want to get Pizza?'
Her eyes gleamed, but she hesitated for just a second. Connor had texted her. But so had Harry. He had sent her five messages, and Y/N wasn't sure if she wanted to see what he had to say.
She wanted to make sure before texting Connor back. Y/N was not sure what she was expecting or hoping for, but what she saw was certainly not it.
Harry: 'Your a whore'
'You're*',
'Diid yu cheat on me? I bet you did
'Do u sleepp arond a loot?'
'fck you'
She felt tears stinging her eyes, cursing at the pregnancy hormones that have gotten her feeling this emotional about drunk texts from her ex. Her body ignited with fury quicker than she realized she could. Y/N doesn't hesitate to click the 'block' button to his contact.
She didn't need a man like him around her or her baby. Or her potential boyfriend.
Y/N: 'Hiya!,'
'it was great having you over, and I'd love to hang out! Down for pizza anytime. Halo loves it too :P'
The reply was instantaneous
C: 'Great!'
'See you Sunday, then! What are your favourite toppings?"
Y/N smiled brightly, finding his curiosity incredibly endearing. She typed back a response, gleaming with joy at the fact that she finally had someone she could rely on.
___
"Fuck. fuck fuck fuck," Harry repeated, clicking the call button to Y/N's contact. He needed to apologize. Desperately. He needed her to know that he didn't mean any of those things; he was just drunk. Not that that was an excuse.
'The number you are trying to reach is not in service', an automated voice said.
Harry groaned in frustration, opening her message contact, typing out;
Harry: "I'm so sorry, I don't know what had gotten into me. I was drunk. I'm very sorry, Y/N xx H."
He took a bite out of his toast before looking back at his screen to see if she had read the message yet. He almost wished he hadn't. Harry’s heart plummeted. His chest constricted as tears stung at the back of his eyes. Throwing up the meal he just scarfed sounded like an option right now.
A flaming red exclamation mark met his startled glance, and his chest heaved as he read,
'Not delivered,'
___
As usual, let us know what you thought!
Reign aka pt3 is already up on Patreon (link in bio!)
Reign will be uploaded on Tumblr on Monday, August 31. ___
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Cruel Liaisons
~~ Previously Lingerlust ~~
A/B/O!MiniMoni x Reader; Poly BTS
“When one strikes the heart of another they seldom miss, and the wound is invariably fatal.”
Release Date: May 7th, 2021 @ 12:15 p.m. (GMT-5)
Apologies for the late update. Hope you enjoy it.
Trigger Warnings: blood and gore.
February 2nd, 2022
“Please state your name for the record.”
“Jeon YN.” YN stared at the recording machine in front of her, it looked antiquated like the type that wasn’t automatically connected to a cloud or storage system. “Those types have to be manually saved. Which can come in handy.” The officer’s cleared their throats, drawing back YN’s attention. What were their names again? “We need you to state your sub-gender as well.” The one on the left spoke lowly, his voice coming out a bit tense and nervous. “Beta.” When YN tried to smell them, she noticed both were wearing scent blockers, though her sense of smell was never her strong suit.
“This is officer Park Sooyoung and officer Kim Jisoo.” The taller one stated, her tone dull, as if she rather be anywhere else. Judging by the bags under her eyes and the large cup of coffee in front of her – a bed seemed to be her choice. Officer Kim reached to the ground and placed a file on the desk, she opened it to reveal a series of photographs; five to be precise. Males and females from around a same age group are placed with one female in the center, she looks strangely familiar to YN. The rounded tip of her nose and arched brows but she can’t quite place the face. There is someone YN does recognize though, a face she saw just a few days ago.
“Anyone you recognize?” Officer Kim asks, her tone is serious but airy. The smile on her face after every sentence lets YN know that she’s the ‘good cop.’
YN points at the second photo from the left, “Him. I saw him in a missing persons ad on the news, but he didn’t look this old.” They had likely picked a picture from when he was younger, the man on the news held a bright smile. His jawline sharp and his cheekbones high but not defined. The man in the photograph in front of her had a pronounced jawline, hollow cheeks, and an ugly scowl that did nothing to mar his features. ‘K.T’ read the bottom.
“What news channel and around what time?”
“KBS, maybe late evening. I watch it before I go to sleep.”
Both officers nod, as Park shifts around on her seat. Now facing directly at YN, resting both elbows on the metal table. “Are you aware of the reason you were brought into the station today?” Officer Kim jumps in before YN can answer, “Just so you know you aren’t being charged with anything.”
Yes. “No, I don’t know.” She shrugged, keeping her eyes level and gaze neither too intense nor too bored.
“You’re here due to your affiliation with Alpha’s Kim Namjoon and Park Jimin,” Park spoke, “They’re your employers, correct?” There was an edge to her voice that YN recognized. Many people weren’t fond of them – many had a reason not to be.
“Yes.” YN nods.
“How long have you worked for them?” Kim asks.
YN notes how neither women are writing anything down, nor looking towards the one-sided mirror behind them. Are they perhaps recording this with a second device? If that’s the case it's not just her voice YN must be cautious of, but her expressions as well. “Around nine months, I’m their housekeeper and take care of Hyunwoo.” After a bit of silence from the police, she elaborates more, “I cook, clean, and help the child with his homework.”
“That’s quite a lot for just one person. Especially considering you have little background in those areas before you were hired, correct?”
They’re trying to bait me. “I’m used to doing those things at home.” YN shrugs, she can see the growing frown on Park’s features.
“How exactly did you hear about the job?” Kim leans forward, but one of her hands drops below the table. Park’s eyes dart over to her partner for a second, but YN catches it. Kim likely gave her a signal or something like a reassuring squeeze, YN hopes it’s the latter. “What was the hiring process like?”
“From an acquaintance Dr. Sihyuk.” Both officers nod along, they don’t seem to recognize the name. “Bang’s dead. Unlikely anyone will find something there.” They always knew to cover their bases. “Um, normal, I guess. I sent in an application and then had an interview.”
“You made a lot of money as the Kim’s housekeeper. Did you never ask yourself where that money was coming from?” It seemed the officers were done trying to be subtle.
“No, it wasn’t my place. Plus, most of the money I earned went into paying family debts.”
“Do you know Kim Namjoon’s or Park Jimin’s source of income?”
“Again no. I just did what I was supposed to do.”
“You never thought to ask?”
“No.”
Sooyoung smirks, “Interesting how everyone around the Kim’s just accepts things at face value. Their co-workers, drivers, bodyguards, even their housekeeper just does what their told. You weren’t even a little bit curious as to how they could possibly afford the lifestyle they have?”
“Curiosity killed the cat.” YN’s arms were clenching around the chair, trying to hold herself back from reacting negatively to the hassling.
“But we aren’t cats.” Sooyoung remarks and for a second YN feels like she’s lost a battle. Jisoo points to the picture in the center, it's a beautiful young woman with flowy hair and a bright smile. Her delicate features give away her omega nature. Though the closer YN inspects the picture, they’re bags under her eyes, permanent frown lines etched onto her face, a hollowness to her eyes. She looks somewhere between life and death. “Do you recognize this woman? You lingered on her a bit longer than the rest of them.”
The longer YN stares at her the more she starts to piece things together, but it still feels like she’s missing something. So she gives a generic answer. “She looks kind of familiar. Has that kind of face.”
“What kind of face?” Jisoo questions.
“Like…pretty, popular, all over billboards kind of face.”
It's enough to satisfy them for now. They slowly start removing all the pictures while leaving only the woman’s, the longer YN sees it the more unnerved she becomes. Her head begins to hurt as another migraine begins to pound at her temples. Creating a sort of hazy fog over YN’s mind. Both officers’ then hold up the picture and flip it revealing a picture of the same woman holding a young child wrapped in blankets. She looks so much happier, so full of life. Instantly YN places her, recognizing the toddler wrapped in blue velvet.
“This is Hyunwoo’s mother. The last time anyone saw her alive was three weeks ago when she just so happened to be having dinner with your employers.” Fuck.
Present
YN’s phone dings as another text from Mark appears on her screen: ‘boss wants to know when you’ll start paying?’ She groans exhaustedly, responding with ‘I have been paying. He gets half my salary every week.’ Which hasn’t made living very comfortable for YN, but she makes do with what she can.
Mark: It’s not enough princess, not with the way daddy’s been spending money.
Me: What am I supposed to do if you keep giving him money?!
Mark: That’s not up to me. So, the money?
Me: I’m looking for a second job. One that pays better.
Mark: Just go sell your eggs or something. Not like you have any use for them.
“Asshole.” YN muttered, muting her notifications. She looked up to the entrance of the fertility clinic debating whether or not to go in. It wasn’t like she had much of an option; she needed the money and fertility clinics were the only ones willing to provide big sums of money fast. Not to mention she had missed a day of work to make the appointment, which meant less money to give to Mark. I hate this. I hate this so much. YN was about to walk away, leave everything when she spotted a black BMW parked on the curve. Its driver observing her intensely. She knew what it meant.
Mark was getting pushy. Meaning his boss was getting pushy and YN didn’t need to be on the bad side of some loan shark – not again. So, she mustered up the courage and opened the glass doors, being hit with the smell of lavender and pheromones. It reeks. Nonetheless, she forced a smile on her face and walked towards the front desk. “Hello, I have an appointment with Dr. Sihyuk.”
“Unfortunately, there is a limit to how many eggs we can safely remove from you. Betas aren’t like omegas, you have a set number of eggs. Removing the majority of them would leave you infertile. We’d also be unsure of whether the eggs are useful or not without running the proper examinations which can take weeks.” Dr. Sihyuk explained as he went over YN’s medical file, each sentence uttered destroying her hope little by little.
“I understand but I am quite fertile. I carry a recessive gene from my father who is an omega. Not to mention I’m not interested in having children so I would have no use for my eggs,” she could sense the doctor’s hesitation, “unlike someone who might benefit from them.” I just really need the money.
“Oh, I know, you betas are lucky in that sense. Don’t have to worry about population growth.” Though it was said jokingly it still made YN uncomfortable, let her know he wasn’t buying her bullshit. The doctor closed the file, “Why exactly are you interested in donating your eggs? Is it for the money?” He saw right through her. At her silence the doctor sighs, “We get one of you every once in a while. Always wrapped up in some business started by a family member or mistakes you’ve made.” Sihyuk opens a file cabinet beside him and shoves her file in there, “Unfortunately for you there’s no market for beta eggs.”
YN sags exhaustion and fear taking over her, “I –” Sihyuk takes a small white business card out of the cabinet holding it out towards her. “Fortunately for you, I happen to know someone hiring. They specified only betas applied.” Hesitantly YN takes the card, “What kind of job?” Though she knows one should never look a gift horse in the mouth it feels to good to be true. “A housekeeper for an alpha couple. They’re long-time associates of mine. Give them a call you won’t regret it.”
Evening of June 20th, 2021
Hyunwoo wouldn’t stop crying. YN truly regretted feeding him chocolate before bed, he had nightmares that had not let the three-year-old rest. Though YN had time and time again reassured them there were no monsters under his bed or strange men coming to take him at night, he wouldn’t hear of it. Insisted she had stayed in bed with him and when that didn’t work cried out for his daddies. The issue being his daddies were currently busy, in the middle of their ruts with their weekly guests. Thankfully, their bedroom was across the apartment from Hyunwoo’s, or else she’d have to explain to the child that the screams being heard didn’t belong to ghost.
“I want papa! I want daddy!” Hyunwoo shrieked, snot and tears dribbling down his face. At this rate, he’d get himself sick if he didn’t permanently injure his vocal cords – or her hearing.
“I know. I know, but they’re busy right now. I can go get them later.” When their guests are gone and they’ve cleaned their bedroom. YN never quite knew how they manage to sneak them out and clean up so fast, but she didn’t question it. Less work for me.
“NO! I want them now!” Hyunwoo bolted towards the door, his little legs running as fast as they could. Though they couldn’t compare to YN’s.
She hugged the toddler, “Alright. I’ll go get your daddies but you have to promise me you’ll wait in bed.” Hyunwoo began to shake his head, “Come on Woowoo, imagine what they’ll say if they hear you threw a tantrum. What would daddies say?”
That seemed to sober him up a bit, “They would be disappointed.”
“Exactly,” YN led him back to bed, gently tucking him in. “I’ll be right back with them soon, okay?”
The hallway felt eerily long as YN struggled with how to politely interrupt without being subjected to the alpha’s rages. Ruts were an especially tricky time and there would be very little she could do to protect herself if it took a turn for the worse. Not to mention she was breaking one of the very few rules set by them: no bothering us after nine pm. YN glanced at her watch, it was currently 11:43 pm. I am so going to lose my job. But Hyunwoo needed his parents, and she didn’t want to risk the toddler running into their bedroom and being witness to something that would certainly cause trauma. Not to mention I might get sent his therapy bills. More debt. YN reached their bedroom doors. A light red hue leaking from the bottom, she willed all her courage and knocked.
“Come in, darling.” Jimin spoke, his dulcet tone sounding a little rougher than normal. Surprisingly the door was unlocked, so YN opened it. At first, she saw nothing out of the ordinary, just Kim Namjoon and Park Jimin laying in their bed. The red silk sheets, she so often had to wash, concealing their more intimate parts. It wasn’t until YN noticed the stains covering their bodies and the walls. It caused her eyes to dance around the room until she landed on what had caused such a mess: the two dismembered bodies lying on the floor. The red lighting of the room serving to conceal what the stains truly were: blood.
Namjoon beckoned her inside with a wave of his hand and YN felt obliged to obey. She could still smell the pheromones in their air, still feel their rut. Not to mention, Hyunwoo might have been following her. She locked the door behind her.
“To what do we owe the pleasure?” Namjoon spoke, smirking and showing off his blood-stained pearly teeth.
#yandere bts#poly bts#minimoni#yandere kim namjoon x reader#yandere park jimin x reader#yandere kim namjoon#yandere park jimin#abo dynamics#abo bts#abo au#cruel intentions#kim namjoon x reader#park jimin x reader#murder#mystery#suspense#a/b/o au#a/b/o bts#alpha kim namjoon#alpha park jimin#alpha bts#beta reader#omega oc#whodunit#girlmeetsliv3
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The Devil Within ~ MYG [Request]
WORD COUNT: 11.3K
GENRE: ANGST! ANGST! ANGST! For a little lightness...ANGST! This is an angst fic, filled with arsehole Yoongi acts
PAIRING: Arsehole Yoongi x Maid!Reader
A/N: Just as a warning this is an ANGST fic, I’ve spoken with the person that requested it and they wanted a ANGST ending which means no happy ending and no part 2’s
The longer you sat in the waiting room the longer you began to grow self-conscious of yourself, there were two beautiful blonde receptionists with their eyes trained on you as you nervously pulled at the skirt you were wearing. At first, you thought you were imagining things, they couldn't have been staring at you but it turned out they were. Looking you up and down in disgust as they mumbled to one another, you tried not to overthink it since you were wearing the same clothes as them only less polished. While their clothes were freshly washed, pressed and ironed yours were worn for the sixth time that week and it was only a Wednesday afternoon but you'd made sure they were clean before wearing it all. Instead of paying them attention, you tried to keep your mind on the interview. Going over everything in your head that you knew the lady you were meeting with was going to ask you. The number of interviews that you had been to you could have set up a business giving people interview techniques for a living but it wasn't a stable job like this one was. A small office job within a huge company like this was no big deal, or at least that was what you were trying to convince yourself of anyway. BigHit were one of the largest companies in Seoul and here you were applying for a job to work in their financial department something that you had never done before.
You'd gotten so lost in your own thought's you hadn't heard a squeaky door opening to reveal a man standing there in a grey suit, he glanced up from a folder and around the empty waiting room.
"Miss Y/l/n?" You glanced up when you heard a male voice calling out your name, you stared over at the balding man that was smiling at you he looked as though he was going to be nice but you were expecting someone else. It wasn't the woman you had arranged to meet with, or if it was she was in desperate need of updating her image on the website you applied on. As soon as he realised he had your full attention he pointed at the office behind him that he had just emerged from,
"Right this way," He told you as he walked back into what you were assuming was his office, you slowly raised from the chair and brushed your skirt off before beginning to walk. Tripping over your own feet and stumbling into the reception desk making the two girls laugh at you together. They didn't even try to mask that they were laughing at you as they continued to stare, waiting to see if you would do anything else. The heat in your body began to rise in embarrassment but you brushed it off trying to act as though you weren't bothered by their laughter and you headed into the room.
As you walked into the room you tried not to let the shocked gasp leave your throat as you looked around the room, it looked more like a study in some penthouse apartment instead of somebodies office. There was large floor to ceilings windows giving a huge view of Seoul, a large mahogany desk directly in front of the windows with a large leather office chair on one side and two red leather chairs on the other.
"Please, take a seat and we can start talking with one another," The man said as he sat down on his chair, opening your folder to look over everything you'd brought with you. Copies of your grades, work experience, references and other things potentially bosses needed to see from you.
"I'm Sejin, you were supposed to meet with my assistant today but I managed to make the meeting instead." He told you as he glanced up at you, putting his hands together on the desk as he made direct eye contact with you. This was slightly different from the other interviews that you had been to before, the others were far more relaxed. You would be given a beverage or something before he headed straight into the interview questions,
"I suppose we should start with the hardest question, Why do you want to work for BigHit?" The question you'd been dreading but had prepared for all at once. It was the number one question that everyone hated to be asked. The thought of telling a complete stranger the truth about why you needed this job was embarrassing so you'd come up with a better idea instead.
"I wanted to branch out, expand my experiences in the business world and work for one of the best entertainment companies in Seoul," The truth was you'd been fired. Your old company was going into liquidation and fired you after no longer being able to afford your pay salary anymore resulting in you relying on your roommates for help. The last four months you'd been searching for jobs high and low, willing to do whatever it took to make sure you could keep the apartment you shared but it appeared as though the world was out to get you. No one was hiring and your roommates were going to kick you out if you didn't get a job soon.
"That sounds like a smart move, branching out can be fun. What made you think of joining our financial team?" He stared back down at your folder and his brows pressed together in confusion as he read over your experience,
"I don't see any finance training or experience on your records. In fact, you were in admin before." The truth was that this was the only job that BigHit had advertised and you applied for it without even looking too much into it, you figured you would get training or learn as you went along and a job was a job a the end of the day no matter what you had to do.
"I needed to learn something new, a new skill." You lied with a convincing smile on your face but it was as if Sejin could see right through you, he simply shut your folder and sighed to himself. Rubbing the bridge of his nose as he realised he was going to have to deliver some upsetting news to you,
"Miss Y/l/n, as much as I would love to take on someone with your enthusiasm, it wouldn't be worth it in the long run. We would have to train you from the bottom up," Your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach as you realised he was telling you that you didn't get the job, he had a blank expression across his face as he sighed at you once again.
"I'm sure you'll be able to find something new somewhere else or you can keep checking our website for something similar to your old job-"
"No! Please, sir...I'll do anything, I'll work as a bin cleaner, I'll be your assistant, I'll clean the bathrooms, a bathroom attendant, damn it. I'll be a maid please, I just- I need a job...Any job," Sejin let out a sad sigh as he heard the desperation in your voice and the look on your face as you pleaded with him to take a chance on you. Your eyes were glossed over as it looked like you were about to cry in front of him, he could tell there was something going on in your life that made you this upset but he couldn't take the chance.
"I can't, there's nothing I can offer you...I'm sorry," He looked upset that he couldn't give you what you so clearly needed but if he gave a job to every person that begged him or gave him a sob story he would have lost his job years ago.
"I'll keep you on the list if anything comes up," He promised as you got up from the chair, bowing to him before turning to leave the office. He watched you leaving, biting down on his lip as he flicked your folder open again, going over everything you had to offer including all of your work experience that was on the side. Maybe if there was something in the building he didn't know about he could put your name and number forward for it, help you get the job you so clearly needed. He stared down at your experience and smiled to himself as he saw what he needed to see. After leaving university you'd been a maid for five years before working for your previous company, he chewed on the inside of his lip before grabbing the phone from his desk and calling his assistant. The phone rang for a couple of seconds before she finally picked it up on the other end,
"Maria...Are the boys still looking for a maid?"
Later that night you were in your bedroom of your apartment packing up your clothes after your roommates said it was the final straw, asking you to leave as soon as you could.
"I'm sorry about everything, you know we would let you stay if we could afford it," Sana said as she came into the room with two full glasses of red wine in her hand, it was a peace offering since she couldn't convince the other girls to let you stay. Sana was one of the girls you'd bonded closer with over your time in the apartment, the other girls were nice but you weren't as close to them as you were with Sana.
"You guys need the rent, I understand." You took the glass from her, drinking half of it before carefully placing it down and going back to packing while she sat down on the floor at the base of your bed. The sooner everything was in boxes the sooner it would all be taken care of, you weren't sure where you were going to go since going back to your parents wasn't the best idea in the world.
"What did the interviewer say anyway? She looked like a bitch on her image," Sana hissed as she tried to make you feel better but you sighed knowing that nothing she could say or do would make you smile right now. You began folding up one of your dresses and placed it into a cardboard box as you shook your head, remembering that it wasn't the original woman you'd gone to see.
"It was a man, Sejin, he just said I wasn't qualified enough...Then I begged for a different job and I was still told no." She bit down on her lip at the thought of you begging for a job, she'd tried to get you a job at her office but they were already filled up.
"I'm sure something will come along, everything happens for a reason," That was the way Sana was in life, she was always trying to look on the brighter side of things and normally you would agree with her but lately it just felt as though the whole world was against you. Laughing whenever you failed at something or intentionally getting your hopes up for nothing, making you jump through hoops only to throw a hole underneath you to make you fall into it.
"It is, what it is." You mumbled before downing the rest of the wine and then letting out a disgusted hiss as you got hit by a nasty aftertaste, it was the worst wine you'd ever tasted.
"Well, I'm going to order-" Sana stopped speaking about food when your phone began to ring, it was almost 10 pm, who would be calling you this late? The two of you stared over at the phone with wide eyes as it continued to ring loudly, you were both shocked that it was ringing since everyone you knew was in the apartment. Picking your phone up from the box you saw that it was a private number and Sana smiled to herself quietly getting up from the floor. She showed you that her fingers were crossed as she nodded at you to answer it,
"Answer it. I'll go order dinner." The door to your room shut and you took a couple of deep breaths before answering the call, trying not to overthink it. It could have just been a cold caller or some pervert with your number,
"Hello, Y/n speaking." Your nails dug into the palm of your hand as you realised how stupid you sounded to the other person on the phone but you tried to keep yourself calm.
"Hello this is Sejin, we met earlier about the Financial Admin job," A glimmer of hope sparked in your chest as you recognised his voice, you hoped he was calling to offer you the job after all but you knew you couldn't sound hopeful about it so you acted as though you may have forgotten something in his office.
"Yes Sir, I remember. Did I forget something at your office?" He chuckled softly at you as he bit down on his lip, he was still in his office staring down at your folder along with some other contracts that he had at the ready. After speaking with his clients and remembering how badly you needed a job he knew you would be the perfect one for the job he had to offer. Everyone else before you had either quit not long after starting it couldn't take the job in the first place.
"No, nothing. I was just calling to see if you were interested in another job we have to offer. It's not an admin job but-"
"I'll take it," You said rather quickly as you cut him off midsentence, he let out a breathy chuckle as you cut him off.
"I'm impressed by your enthusiasm but I think we should speak in the morning about it. If you still want it after hearing what it is, you can start working right away." You began thanking him over and over again while jumping up and down on the spot hoping he couldn't hear through his end of the call.
"Thank you so much, sir, you won't regret this." You told him as you looked at Sana in your doorway, a giant grin plastered across her face as she saw how happy you were, she'd heard the jumping from just outside the door and wanted to see what you were excited about.
"I'm sure I won't. I'll see you tomorrow morning Miss Y/l/n, bright and early." He told you in a warning tone before hanging up, you let out a high-pitched squeal while jumping up and down once again. Sana rushing over to you, holding your hands as she joined in on the celebratory jumping giggling with you.
"You got the job?!" She yelled out at you while you nodded at her,
"Kind of, they've offered me a different job but with the same company. I have to go and see him tomorrow to talk things out. He said if I still want it after finding out what it is then I can have it," She stopped jumping as she stared at you with a serious expression on her face, her seriousness made you stop jumping and you frowned at her, wondering what was wrong.
"What if it's some kind of pervert job...Like he wants to pay you for sex or...be his "personal assistant,"," She put up air quotations and you shook your head at her slapping her hands down as she continued to use air quotations followed by rude hand gestures.
"Don't be disgusting, he's like five times my age and he's married...Besides...A job is a job," You wiggled your eyebrows jokingly which caused her to slap your arm playfully and you both went back to celebrating your new job, jumping up and down on the spot.
"Good thing I ordered pizza!" She called out as she kissed your cheeks softly,
"Tonight we celebrate! My roommate doesn't have to move out!" She sang out of tune while making a b-line for the door of your room to tell the others the good news. But before she disappeared she stood in the doorway once again,
"I told you that everything happens for a reason, things are finally starting to look up." Winking at you playfully she left the room, yelling out that you were going to get to stay longer and you collapsed down onto the bed. Smiling up at the ceiling at the thought of your new job, wondering what it could have possibly been and why he thought you wouldn't take it after speaking with him about it tomorrow.
The next morning you'd raced down to the BigHit building so you could get there for opening hours, Sejin said early but he didn't give you a specific time so you just assumed he meant as early as possible. You'd made no attempt to get breakfast, your appetite had gone out of the window after the pizza you had the night before, you'd been too busy going over everything in your head as you thought about what this job could be. Mumbling could be heard from the other side of the room and that was because of the two receptionists sitting there once again as they stared at you, talking to one another as they made it clear it was you they were speaking about. It was as if they didn't care. You had the same outfit on as yesterday but you didn't worry what they thought of you, you'd gotten next to no sleep last night all you worried about was what Sejin thought of you and what was the job he was going to give you. The door to his office opened and he was standing there in a black suit this time,
"Mina, Amber you can go on your break," Sejin said as he stared at them not appreciating the fact that they were laughing at you while they were supposed to be working, they glanced over at him then t you in silence before leaving the room.
"If you'd like to come into my office." Anxiety began to bubble up in your stomach as you remembered what Sana had said the night before about him paying you for sex and how he had just sent out the only two workers in the immediate area.
"Have a seat," He said again as he walked behind the door of the office, pouring you both a glass of water before joining you at the desk. This time instead of your folder being on the desk there were seven other folders spaced out with initials written on them. Alongside that, there were some contracts that looked very important with different sticky notes poking out of the sides of them.
"I won't beat around the bush, I'll tell you what the job is and then we will talk business." He gently placed a glass of water down in front of you before sitting down across from you like he had done the day previous,
"You said you were willing to do any job, is that statement still true?" You nodded with an unsure look on your face that made Sejin laugh softly to himself,
"Don't look so worried...I've been looking for a maid for one of our groups for a while. Of course, there will be a lot of contracts and rules you'll have to abide by but if you're willing the job is all yours," Relief washed over you as you realised he wasn't going to make you sleep with him for money but just clean, cleaning was the easiest thing in the world to do.
"Of course, What rules will there be?" He nodded his head as he pushed the contract forward, it has to have been around two-hundred or more pages long but you stared at it.
"Every rule is in there, I can't tell you anything about the group until you've signed the NDA's." You nodded and he smiled as you pulled out some reading glasses from your bag,
"You can read up everything you like, I'll get someone to make us a hot drink and I'll be here if you have any questions at all." He reassured you with a smile, going to his laptop while you made yourself busy with the contracts that were in front of you. Everything looked so professional and serious, you could expect less from a company such as BigHit but it did make you wonder who you would be working with.
There was so much to sign on each page that by the time you had finished your hand was cramping up and it was getting dark outside. You'd taken breaks throughout the day to have something to eat, speak with Sejin and talk about any changes that needed to be made but everything was perfectly fine with the contract. Signed and dated on every document that needed to be dealt with.
"Now that you've signed those I can tell you who you will be working for, what your job will entail and what they expect from you." Sejin slid the seven folders over to you as he smiled nervously, it looked as though he was unsure about you taking this job but you didn't care who it was as long as it paid and it paid very well.
"I suggest taking those home to look over since starting Monday you'll be working for the boys." The boys? You glanced up from the folder from Sejin to the initials on each folder once again, KSJ, MYG, JHS, KNJ, PJM, KTH and JJK. It made your heart pound as you realised who it was you were going to be working for and Sejin could read you like a book,
"Their preferences for how they like their rooms being done is in their folders. I'll have you a keycard made for Monday morning and I'll take you to meet them myself. They can be daunting at first but they're lovely, I promise." You nodded along with him and he smiled as you collected the folders together,
"I would suggest packing a bag, you'll be staying with the boys. You'll have your own apartment but you're expected to be on call for them whenever they may need your assistance.
"Oh...Living with them? Isn't that a little extreme?" You remembered skimming over your holiday days in the contract but you'd been in such a rush to sign it all and make sure you had a job you hadn't even taken notice of living with a band.
"It's all a necessary part of the job, it'll be like having roommates, I'm sure you and the boys will get along just fine," He told you as he got up from his desk, ready to see you out of the door for the night.
"As I said, go over every detail in their personal folders. It'll tell you what they do and don't like in their rooms, what they want you to clean and things like that." You nodded trying to keep yourself under control as you headed into the reception area, it was empty since it was almost 8 at night.
"Do you need a ride home? I'm sure I can drop you off..." You shook your head, thanking him anyway as you headed out of the office building taking in the cold air and trying to clear your head from the spinning it was experiencing.
It was four in the morning and you were still reading through all of the folders that you had for each of the members of BTS, all of them wanting specific things for their bedrooms but never being too over the top with anything. All of them except for Yoongi that was, while the other boys just wanted you to do basic cleaning of their room every day and changing their sheets once a week it appeared as though Yoongi wanted more than that.
The bedroom must be :
Cleaned every day, nothing moved out of place unless specifically asked to be moved and told where it is placed.
New sheets every three days made with the covers folded at the top. A blanket at the bottom of the bed and pillows fluffed properly.
Hovering the floor once a day, mopping the floor once a day
Dusted over everything once a day, making sure the computer and pianos are cleaned properly without streaks on the buttons or screens
The bedroom must smell like specific aftershave that I will provide
At first, you didn't know if it was to be taken seriously or not, all of the guys were portrayed as these super nice guys but now it seemed as though Yoongi was demanding and wanted to treat you as someone who would wait on him, hand and foot.
"Is he serious?" You mumbled to yourself as you poured another mug of coffee for yourself, staring over the words again and again. The others just wanted basic cleaning in their rooms but the rest of the dorms/building was where you were needed most. Doing everything you would have expected to do on a cleaning job but this was outrageous even for a celebrity.
Monday morning you'd made it your mission to talk to Sejin about everything Yoongi had down in his chart, wondering if it was some kind of joke or if it was serious.
"It's serious, he has a strict way he likes his room," Was all he had told you earlier in the day and now you were making your way into the building where the dorms where.
"The boys are on the 5th and 6th floor. You'll have your own room on the 7th." He explained as he pushed a card into the elevator slot and clicked on the floor he needed, hanging you the card when he was through with it. Your name was on the front of it along with the BigHit logo,
"Don't lose it, you won't be able to get a replacement." He said as he continued going up to the 5th floor with you, standing in silence as you went up on the different floors.
"Have they had maids before me?" You were curious to know why the boys didn't have a maid until now and if they had maids before what had happened to them.
"They did, they all quit without reason. You're the first one they've had in about six months. They've been in need of one for a while," He laughed nervously as he turned to look at you, this didn't make you feel any better. Quit without reason? What did that even mean?
"The boys are all at work except for Jimin and Jungkook, they don't have projects that they're working on so they'll give you a tour of the dorms." You stepped out on the fifth floor to be greeted by a large living space, the lift opened straight into it. An open area with a kitchen off to the side and then down the hall were some rooms that seemed to be locked off.
"Jungkook? Jimin?!" Sejin called out as he dropped keys down onto the counter and waited for the members to come to him, a door slammed from down the hall and Jimin appeared with a smile on his face.
"You must be Y/n!" He said in a happy tone, shaking your hand as you smiled at him.
"Nice to meet-" You stopped talking when you heard running coming from the other side of you, Jungkook was standing there sweating.
"I was just working out when I heard Manager Sejin, it's nice to meet you Y/n." He bowed to you so you bowed back smiling as he turned to Sejin.
"We'll give her the tour, you can leave her in trusted hands," Sejin laughed sarcastically before turning to look at you.
"You have my number in case of emergencies, remember the rules and I guess this is it. I'll bring over your copies of the contracts later." He waved goodbye before getting into the elevator, leaving you with the boys in uncomfortable silence as you stared at one another.
"So...The tour?" You suggested, trying not to make everything more awkward but Jungkook clapped his hands together.
"I'll shower, Jimin show her where everything is on this floor and then we'll head upstairs." You smiled as he rushed off leaving you with Jimin who was still smiling at you,
"You can relax, we know there are a lot of rules but honestly they're easy to follow and we're easy-going." He assured you as he pointed over at the hallway he had appeared from,
"This floor is basically everything you already see. The living room, kitchen and dining area and then these doors lead to different rooms." He began taking you down the hallway, all of the walls were painted the same white colour making it look bigger than it probably was and the doors were all a light brown colour.
"This is the cleaning supply room, BigHit keep it stocked so you won't have to go out and do that but everything you'll need is in here." The door opened and inside were three walls of shelves, stacked with every cleaning supply you thought someone could ever need.
"Then the next room is the laundry room. There's a washing machine, dryer and an ironing board if we ever need it," He closed the cleaning closet and opened the next door, this one was larger than the other. You could stand inside this room with the door closed and still freely move around unlike the cleaning closest which looked as though it could barely hold a mouse inside of it.
"The only other rooms on this floor are the bathroom which is right there," He pointed over his shoulder at another identical door and then down the hall where Jungkook had vanished to,
"The gym. You won't have to worry about cleaning the gym. They have a professional come and do that...All you have to wash in there would be the towels and they're kept in a basket outside of the door." You wondered how you were going to remember all of this but you nodded along with what Jimin was saying and as if he could read your mind he smiled,
"Relax...Trust me, it'll just feel like you're living with some brothers and you'll do it like second nature. Taehyung and I normally do a lot of the cleaning anyway since we're used to it now. You don't have to worry about doing our rooms," It was a relief to know that you weren't going to have to do all six bedrooms every day along with Yoongi's room which was going to take up a lot of your time anyway.
"The second floor awaits," Jungkook said as the elevator doors opened to reveal him standing there, his hair was thrown into a man-bun and he was in fresh clothes.
"The sixth floor is basically just all of our bedrooms with en-suites then one main bathroom on the end," Jimin explained as you all got into the lift together, Jungkook tried to make conversation with you unlike how Sejin let you ride in silence.
After the tour was given to you by the boys they let you go up to your room to chill for a little while, wanting you to get relaxed in your room and unpack. The room you had was a huge bedroom with a small kitchen area to yourself, nothing much. One counter with a small mini-fridge and a kettle for yourself, then there was a joint bathroom to your room with a large corner bathtub, shower and toilet.
"You're starting to clean now?" You heard Jimin asked as he came down the hall to you, you'd brought down the washing from outside of the gym and began loading the machine. The boys each used the laundry-shoot so their clothes were already in the laundry room whenever you needed them to be done.
"I figured I could get a head start, I'll do the washing and then clean up the kitchen after you've all eaten." With Jimin conversation felt easy, you didn't feel awkward around him and it was as if the conversation just naturally flowed between the two of you.
"After we've eaten dinner? You're eating too, you can eat with us." He chuckled softly as he noticed how your eyes had grown wide at the thought of eating with the rest of the guys.
"It'll be a good way to break the ice and get to know us all better. As I said, it'll be like having brothers around you," He nudged your side before winking playfully and heading out of the room leaving you speechless as you started the machine up. Having all of the boys treat you like a sister would be nice and make your job a lot easier,
"Y/n? Wanna play a game for a while? I need someone to beat this level with me," Jungkook asked as he heard you coming out of the laundry room and back into the living room,
"Sure...What are you playing?" You questioned as you walked over to the sofa, sitting down beside him as he handed you one of the Nintendo Switch controllers.
"Smash Brothers, prepare to lose!"
Dinner with the boys had been insightful to what you had to look forward to, Namjoon had brought Thai take-out home with him and you all sat around the table getting to know one another. They apologised for Yoongi not being there but he was working on things at the studio and would probably be home later than the rest of them, or that was how it was most nights. You'd gotten to know each of them and they'd gotten to know you more since all they'd known so far was everything Sejin had told them.
"He said you really needed the job, what happened?" Jungkook asked as he helped you put the dishes away from dinner, you looked at him not knowing if you should tell him the truth or lie but there was something about his eyes that just made you want to tell him everything.
"My job before this went into liquidation and my roommates were going to kick me out unless I found something new...BigHit was my last chance before I would have been on the streets." You admitted as you closed the cupboard, Jungkook was staring at you with wide eyes. He'd figured you just really wanted to work for the entertainment company and that was why you'd been so desperate, he hadn't expected that.
"Going home?" He questioned but you rubbed your arms while shaking your head,
"Not really an option, my parents weren't that great and I didn't want to go home to them with no job...But now I have a job so it's great." You admitted with a smile on your face, thanking Jungkook even though he hadn't been the one to hire you.
"Glad to help, you should get some rest." He told you as he looked over at the time, it was almost midnight and he was crashing soon.
"I'll head up to bed soon, I'm just going to sort the laundry out." You admitted as you disappeared down the hall to the laundry room.
By the time you were done figuring out whose clothes were whose it was almost 1:30 am and the elevator dinged to let you know someone was on the fifth floor, you poked your head out to see if it was one of the boys who couldn't sleep but you saw Yoongi standing there instead. You froze. Yoongi was the one person you hadn't been introduced to yet and it was the early hours of the morning, he looked pissed off so you weren't going to go bounding over to him with a smile and introduction. Backing back into the room you wondered what to do with yourself, looking at the piles of clothes and then back at the now-closed door.
Yoongi had seen you already when you poked your head out of the door but he didn't bother saying anything, he walked into the kitchen grabbing some food and a bottle of water before heading up to his room for the night. Too tired to introduce himself to you and stick with the pleasantries when he knew you would quit within a matter of time just like all of the other maids the boys had had. It was just a matter of when and why. All of them quit eventually, either not being able to hack the jobs the boys had or because they were far too lazy to do anything the boys needed them to do. Yoongi was sick of getting to know new maid after new maid only for them to up and leave within a matter of days or weeks so he decided he wasn't going to bother getting to know you. He didn't see the point in maids anyway when he and the boys could look after themselves, it was nothing but a person getting in their way around the house and why should they have to deal with that? It was why he always gave such a long list of demands in his part of the contract, he wanted it to be off putting to the maids that would think about working for them. Who would honestly put themselves through this just for some money?
The first two weeks of working for the boys had been going brilliantly, you'd been getting along great with all the boys but you'd grown a close friendship with Jimin and Jin who would regularly help you around the dorms when they had days off or spend time with you whenever you had nothing to do which wasn't very often. Most of your days were filled with doing Yoongi's bedroom and the others in the mornings and then the rest of the day was filled with hovering and mopping each floor, dusting every room on each floor of the house. Cleaning each of the bathrooms, sometimes more than once a day if the boys had been messy. Clothes were always piling up on you since they were seven boys each of them wearing different sets every day sometimes more than one set a day so you were constantly doing the laundry. Except for today, today was your day off and you'd gone home to your apartment to visit Sana telling her about your job. Although you couldn't tell her who you were working for you told her that it was a lot of fun, even if it was a little white lie.
Working for the boys was fun but working for Yoongi wasn't, as time had passed at the dorms you couldn't help but feel Yoongi had it out for you. At first, you thought it was all in your head since he was such a nice guy but as more time passed you began to realise it wasn't. He would always give you daunting tasks to do, piling more and more on top of them as if you were his personal assistant. Just yesterday he had you building a brand new bookcase for his room, only to tell you that he didn't like it and asked you to take it back to the store for him. Yoongi was always making sure you were the one doing basic tasks for him around the house as well, testing his food for him, buying him things from the store when no one else would go for him or doing things a personal assistant would do. When it first started happening it wasn't so bad but as time passed you realised the tasks were getting worse and worse as if he was testing you on purpose and he was. When Yoongi realised you weren't going to quit as easily as the other maids had done he'd decided to turn things into his own mind game wanting to see just how far he could push you before you quit. Pushing you as far as he could before you would snap, it was more fun than watching you do the housework anyway. None of the other boys knew about his plan, of course, he could see how much they liked you already which only made him hate you more.
You were his new source of entertainment and he was coming up with different ways he could push your buttons and see if he could break you. Today was the first in many tests he was doing that would affect your work, when you'd finished separating all the colours in the laundry room he "accidentally" broke a plate in the kitchen to grab your attention. Whilst you were cleaning up the glass he snuck a red top between the whites and hoped you wouldn't notice until it was too late. Then all he had to do was sit back and wait for the timer to finish.
"Hey Y/n, I was wondering if you were done with-" Hoseok stopped speaking when he walked into the laundry room to find you holding his white shirt that was now stained a bright pink colour. Panic flooded your body as you saw that it was now a completely different colour than it was when it went into the washing machine. Your heart was practically trying to leap out of your chest and run out of the building,
"I-I didn't do it, I must not have seen whatever dyed it inside of the machine Hoseok. I'm so sorry," Your voice cracked as you looked at Hoseok, you couldn't tell if he was mad about the shirt but you were scared. The shirt looked as though it cost more than you were ever being paid and it wasn't as though you could just run out and buy him a brand new top when it was that expensive. Yoongi smirked from the sofa as he heard the panic in your voice show up, he glanced over his shoulder to look at Hoseok who had his back towards him he wanted to see what would happen when Hoseok got mad at you. Hoseok was the calmest one out of the boys so if he kicked off at you it was surely enough to make you rethink working for them.
"I love it," Hoseok called out, taking the pink shirt from your hands and holding it up to his chest as if he was modelling it without trying it on.
"What?" Yoongi mumbled to himself as he watched Hoseok smile brightly turning around and posing in front of you.
"No one has a pink version of this designer top, it makes it all the more special." Relief washed over you as he walked away from you, your heart calmed down you went back into the machine pulling out a red shirt that must have dyed the rest of the washing but you knew you'd separated everything, you checked four times before starting the machine.
Week by week and day by day things went wrong for you all of the time, it was like the apartment was haunted and throwing mean tricks at you. It started with the boy's laundry all being dyed at least four times a week which was stressing you out to the point where you wouldn't leave the laundry room until it the washing machine had finished its cycle. Yoongi hated that you were starting to take precautions with everything so he had to step up his game, making his room messier and messier every night so you would have to spend more of your time in there than anywhere else in the dorms but nothing was working. He was going about it all wrong and he realised it now. Stepping things up to the next level he began to "accidentally" break things around the apartment, glasses, mirrors, plates...Anything that he could break and make it look like an accident would be broken but it still wasn't enough. It felt as though nothing Yoongi could and would do would be enough so he started to take your sleep away from you in any way that he could, starting with late-night food runs.
"Y/n?" You turned around while you were half asleep to see Jimin staring at you, he was dressed in Chimmy Pj's and holding a glass of milk when he stepped into the elevator to see you there. It was almost 2 in the morning and he couldn't think of a logical reason for you to be awake when he was sure you'd been up since 3 am the day before.
"Where have you been?" All you did was hold up a bag of what looked like warm food and hummed tiredly, resting your head on the wall of the lift as you waited for it to start moving again,
"Yoongi wanted something to eat but the delivery driver wouldn't deliver it here so he asked me to get it," Jimin frowned even more as he heard that Yoongi told you to get him something to eat when they were all perfectly capable of getting their own food for themselves.
"Why didn't-"
"He's in the middle of a song, I didn't want him to lose his groove," Jimin sighed as he watched you get out on the sixth floor and began to tiredly stumble your way over to Yoongi's room knocking on the door for a second before a tired Yoongi opened the door, snatched the food from you and headed inside.
"Goodnight Jimin," You mumbled as you headed past him once again, into the elevator but Jimin was still shocked at the action from his Hyung.
Eventually, Yoongi got bored of watching you push yourself past not sleeping and running on maybe one or two hours of sleep a night and decided to move on from that tactic, instead he was going to try a more direct approach to things. Face you head on.
"Why do you work for us?" You froze when you heard a voice come from behind you, you thought the dorms were empty for the day but Yoongi was standing directly behind you.
"Because I need a job..." You backed away from him, he never spoke to you unless he was after something or one of the boys asked him to talk to you. Even then the conversation was blunt and straight to the point, this time you could sense he was up to something and it didn't sit right with you.
"I mean why...Did you think we would all start sleeping with you if you worked for us?" You dropped a mug onto the floor as the words left his mouth,
"Because we wouldn't, we wouldn't go near someone as poor and pathetic as you," Each word seemed to cut you deeper than the last and you just stared at him wondering what you ever did to make him this spiteful towards you.
"Or did you think you could sell stories about us to the press? We've had that one before too," He scoffed remembering one of the maids that tried to sell a fabricated story to the media, the boys all had stories that they gave to each maid for testing them. If the story was ever attempted to be leaked they would know exactly who did it and that maid would be sued,
"Why would I sell stories about you? I earn enough here," You mumbled as you began sweeping up the bits of broken glass from the floor, making a mental note to replace Jungkook's Bakugou mug the next time you went out shopping.
"You earn enough? It doesn't look like it, look at what you wear," He stared you up and down and it felt as though someone had just pulled a rug out from underneath you. Where was all of this coming from? Why was he suddenly attacking your appearance and personality out of nowhere when he had no idea who you were as a person.
"You're nothing but a no-good maid who should just quit, we don't need you or want you here," You ignored him as you went back to washing up the dishes but this only seemed to anger Yoongi more, he hated being ignored.
"Are you that fucking poor you'll put up with the constant breaking of items around the house? You'll put up with me dying all of the clothes just to see if it'll piss the boys off?" He laughed loudly as he watched you, your whole body tensed giving away that you were uncomfortable or something he had said was the truth,
"You're poor?" He scoffed once again as he laughed looking you up and down,
"I mean no wonder. I think that's the sixth day in a row you've worn that shirt and those pants together. Filthy." He spat at you, his tone laced with venom as he gave you a disgusted look as if you were nothing more than something he had just stepped in but you counted to ten inside of your head trying to stay calm.
"You've been dying the clothes? Why?" He hated that you were asking him about something so calmly, he stared at you waiting for the anger to come but it never did.
"Why aren't you pissed?!" You ignored his question as you drained the water from the sink, trying to walk away from him but he took your wrist in his grasp forcing you to look up at him.
"Can you go and make my bed, I don't like the way it's been made today." You stared at him in disbelief, he'd already had you remake the bed four times that morning.
"I already-"
"Is that backtalk? I might have to talk to Sejin about the way the staff speak to us," You swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded at him.
"I'll go and make the bed-"
"I want fresh sheets but I want that bedding. Wash it and have it dried before I get into bed tonight," He ordered as he cut you off mid-sentence, you nodded at him in silence heading up to the bedrooms and you wanted to scream out in anger at him. Reminding yourself that you needed the job and you needed the money.
Months went by but the mind games with Yoongi continued to grow and get worse, he had basically turned you into his personal assistant as well as a maid for the boys. You were lucky if you got two hours of sleep a night on the things he had you doing, just dumb things that no one would ever think of doing he wanted you to do. Polishing each of the awards, cleaning the bathroom downstairs and then making sure all of the cupboards in the kitchen were dust-free because his hayfever was acting up. There weren't enough hours in the day for you to get everything you originally did do as well as the extra chores he was throwing on top of you. Threatening you with the, "I can have you fired," line that he loved throwing around whenever you looked as though you were close to yelling or snapping at him for everything he was making you do. Tonight you were finally going home to your old apartment for some time off since you needed to take your holiday days,
"You look exhausted," Sana said as you laid on the sofa with your head in her lap, you nodded at her whining as you felt your head beginning to spin. It felt as though your head was ready to explode. The week you'd had was giving you a huge migraine and you didn't want to go back to the dorms tomorrow but you had to, you only had tonight off since Yoongi needed you back in time for the party they were throwing. You were in charge of cleanup after it. The boys thought it was weird that Yoongi was the one throwing a party when he didn't like going to them that often but they went along with it anyway.
"Maybe you can take some sick days?" Sana whispered as she ran her fingers over your cheeks, biting her lip as she realised how hot your face was to the touch. It was the first time she'd seen you in over three months and it was starting to worry her that you weren't taking the days off that you were supposed to. You weren't supposed to be working every day as you had been and it was starting to show that you were overworking yourself more than you said you were.
"When was the last time you went to the doctor?" She questioned but all you did was hum at her, her cold hands laying on your head was all you could think about. It was nice having a cold compress on your forehead but you went back to her question, you couldn't even remember the last time you had a day to yourself, never mind going to see a doctor.
"I've been busy," You grumbled at her, not wanting to admit the truth about your lack of sleep and troubles at the dorms, she would only make it into a larger deal than it needed to be.
"I'm going to crash, I'll see you in the morning," She watched you anxiously as you made your way into your old room, not bothering to shut the door or change out of your clothes before you dropped onto the bed and almost instantly fell to sleep.
There was that noise again, a shrill beeping sort of noise that kept coming and going, sometimes getting louder than before. You groaned trying to reach your hand up to touch your head but it felt as though you weighed the same as a bag of bricks,
"She's waking up," A voice you knew said as you tried to move again, the beeping got faster the more you began to wake up and you opened your eyes to bright light. Once you adjusted to the new lighting you looked around the room to see the boys standing around your bed,
"What are you doing in my bedroom?" You mumbled trying to seat up in the bed but you let out a squeak as you felt a pain radiate through your body, you looked down to see an IV drip attached to your arm and then a heart monitor on your fingers. That explained what the annoying beeping was that you'd been hearing over and over again.
"You're in the hospital," Jimin said as he looked at you with a worried expression plastered across his face, you glanced at each of them and they all looked as worried at the next included Yoongi who was staring at Jimin.
"You idiot, she can see she's in the hospital, Don't be dumb. Go and get a nurse," He hissed making Jimin mumble under his breath before turning to leave the room, the other boys all went back to asking you what had happened and how you got there.
"I don't know..." The last thing you could remember was going to bed in your old apartment and then everything was black,
"Miss Y/l/n, I see you're awake now. It's good to have you back, you gave us quite the scare." You frowned at the male doctor who began talking to you, telling you what had happened. Sana had found you the next morning and you were out cold, not responding to any touch or shake so she brought you in.
"It seems as though you just overworked yourself and had a pretty bad migraine. I'll prescribe you some strong painkillers for the pain and advise you to take some time off work," As Yoongi listened to the doctor explain that you were overworked he began to felt guilty for what he'd been making you do over the last months of you working for them. He knew he was responsible for making you work so much and yet you still continued to work for them despite being around this overworked to the point you were hospitalised you were still willing to go through the hell he was putting you through.
"Yes Doctor, I'll talk to my boss and arrange some time off." You lied as you waited for him to leave the room, turning back to the boys with a weak smile.
"I'll just do light work around the dorms if that's okay?" The question was said to all of them but directed mostly at Yoongi who nodded his head before ditching the room. The guilt on his chest felt like somebody was trying to crush him and he knew he had to lay off you and stop treating you the way he had been.
It was your first week back after taking some time off, the boys had been kind enough to let you stay in your room in their dorm while you recovered. Bringing you food whenever they could and making sure you didn't lift a finger until you were feeling 100% better. All week had been refreshing, nothing bad had happened and Yoongi had left you alone. No longer treating you as his own personal assistant he let you do your own jobs that you were originally hired to do.
"I was thinking we could go and have dinner tonight, we can all order our favourite take out," Jungkook said as you were making his bed with him.
"We should do that, it'll be fun." You told him as you put the pillow down onto his bed, looking over at him with a smile, he insisted on helping you do his room even though you'd told him you'd felt fine all week.
"How about we play some video games-" Jungkook stopped speaking when he heard a loud crash coming from down the hall, it sounded as though someone had just thrown something at the wall. The two of you stared at one another in worry before heading down the hall to find Yoongi attempting to clean up broken glass from the floor, mumbling to himself.
"Let me do it before you hurt yourself," You mumbled as you realised Yoongi was going to hurt his hand if he didn't stop but he couldn't. He hadn't meant to break the glass frame, it was supposed to be a surprise for you from Jimin but now it was ruined and smashed to pieces on the floor.
"I'll get the dustpan and brush," Jungkook called out as he ran for the lift, leaving you and Yoongi as you told him to stop picking up the large shards of glass but it was too late, he let out a yell as a piece sliced into the palm of his hand,
"Fuck! That's your fucking fault!" He yelled out as blood dripped onto the floor,
"You're nothing but a distraction! Fucking idiot!" He continued to yell out but you ignored him, grabbing his wrist as you began to drag him in the direction of the bathrooms as he continued to haul verbal abuse in your direction, reminding you why you were so stressed from before.
"Look at you, you can't even fucking say anything because you know I'm right don't you. So desperate for cash you begged for any job and are willing to put up with me," He laughed as you continued to clean up the small cut that was on his hand, keeping the tears in as much as you could despite how much his words were hurting you. Wondering how he found out that you'd begged for a job that day you went for a meeting,
"Begging for a job, pathetic." He scoffed once more and you finally lost it. Letting the tears you'd been holding in for months stream down your cheeks as you looked up at him.
“You really think I have a choice? Do you think I enjoy putting myself through this every day?” Tears poured out from your eyes but you didn't even notice them now, you were too angry to care that you were crying in front of the one person who made you feel the worst.
"Do you think I enjoy letting you do this shit to me? Using me like a fucking personal slave?!" You yelled out as he stared at you in shock, he hadn't expected this to come from you.
"I put up with everything you've thrown at me! Fucking ruining the laundry I did, breaking plates so that I would have to clean it up, being your person errand girl," You said as you remembered every little thing he'd made you do for him from shining his shoes down to making sure his folds on his laptop were organised properly because god forbid he actually do something for himself.
"I let you ridicule me day after day because I needed this job. Not all of us are some rich fucking celebrity who likes to shit on other people who have nothing," Jungkook froze outside the bathroom door as he heard everything Yoongi had put you through.
"I kept my mouth shut when you overworked me to the point of being hospitalised and what? I rest for a week and you decide to start it up again?" He didn't know what to say so he just stared at you,
"I'm fucking done." You threw his hand back to him and he hissed at the cold air hitting his wound but you didn't care anymore, you stormed out of the bathroom and into the lift. Not noticing Jungkook who had gone into the bathroom to speak with Yoongi after you left.
Sejin stared at Yoongi from across his desk, Yoongi felt as though he was in some kind of intervention. The boys were all stood behind him while Sejin told him off for everything. As soon as Yoongi confirmed to Jungkook that what you said was true he told everyone, not wanting him to get away with it.
"Do you think she'll sue us? Tell the press?" Sejin questioned as he threw his pen down onto the desk feeling fed up with everything,
"That's what you're worried about!?" Namjoon was red in the face with anger as he stared from his manager to band member, neither of them seemed to care that they had put a human life through hell for months.
"Do you not realise what Yoongi did?!" Yoongi stared down at his lap, he could already feel the same guilt crushing feeling he had at the hospital creeping back into him and it was feeling even worse now that he'd snapped at you before you quit without warning. The boys did nothing but yell at him for the car ride to the studios and he knew he deserved it, he deserved so much worse than they were going to do.
"You'll go and apologise to her, you'll make sure that she plans on telling no one this story and if she wants...She can contact me and we'll talk about compensation for what she went through," Namjoon went to say something but Sejin held up his hand to silence him,
"I don't want to hear it. Yoongi will go and say sorry." The room fell into silence as they all stared down at Yoongi who was still sitting there, his hand wrapped in a bandage.
"Now!" The boys yelled in sync with one another watching as he got up from the chair and stormed out of the office.
Opening the door to your apartment the last person you thought to see standing there was staring back at you, a bouquet of flowers in one hand with a box in the other.
"What do you want?" You asked plainly as the smile faded from your face, looking at the presents before back to his face.
"I wanted to say sorry for everything-"
"And you think presents will do that?" You cut him off, he licked his lips as he let you cut him off. You had every right to be angry with him and say whatever you wanted to say to him.
"No. I just...This is from Jimin, it was what I dropped earlier and it was an accident...I wasn't trying to break it on purpose...You have to believe that I feel guilty for everything I did and said before you were in the hospital...I thought if I pushed you too much you'd quit but you just kept working." You scoffed at him as you rolled your eyes,
"I needed the job. Now I'll be homeless in a couple of weeks," You took the present he said was from Jimin and placed it onto the table just inside the doorway of your apartment not wanting to move.
"Sejin said to call him...He'll be more than willing to compensate for what-"
"You mean to pay me to be silent with my story?" You raised your eyebrow at Yoongi who nodded his head.
"I feel so guilty, you have to believe I never meant to hurt you this much," You stared at him in disbelief,
"How could you not mean to hurt me? The hell you put me in?" You stared at him reading his face as you realised he really did feel guilty but it wasn't because you got hurt or you were upset it was because the boys were mad at him, he felt guilty because though around him made him feel that way.
"You only feel guilty because you got caught," You mumbled to him but he shook his head at you, trying to talk but his words came out as a stutter,
"I’m underneath your skin...Aren't I? The feeling of what you did to me crushing you? Now I'm the heavy burden that you can't bear...Ironic," You told him as you nodded your head smugly enjoying the fact that the person who had put you through hell was going through the exact same thing as you were.
"Don't worry, I won't tell my story to the press. I'll keep my mouth shut. Tell Sejin he can keep his money I'm not interested." Yoongi stayed silent but you waited to see if there was anything else,
"Do you still need the job?" You debated it as he questioned you, debated going back and acting as though nothing had happened but you shook your head.
"I'll find something else." You mumbled, folding your arms over your chest as he attempted to give you the flowers once again.
"I'm sorry-"
"I won't ever accept it, if you were sorry you would never have done it," He knew you were right but he still couldn't bring himself to move even after you shut the door in his face and disappeared back into your own apartment.
Jungkook walked into your apartment yelling out that he was there and you came down the stairs and jumped onto his back,
"Hey, you're late." You whined as you took the ice cream from his hands and wandered over in the direction of your sofa, he sat down beside you and wrapped his arm around your shoulder.
"I had a long day. We all had to record a song for, In the soop, you should have seen Yoongi running into the booth." It had been a year since you quit working as a maid for the boys and although you and Yoongi were never going to be the best of friends you'd managed to move past what he had done to you and put you through managing to deal with one another since you and Jungkook had begun dating not long after quitting.
"I bet it was funny," You laughed as you leant up to kiss Jungkook's cheek, pushing play on the movie you were watching together.
Tagline: @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @rjsmochii @kneel-begyourpardon @taestannie @innersooya @sw33tnight @sweeneyblue1 @jin-from-the-block @acciocriativity @that-anxious-bisexual
A/N: If anyone ever treated me or someone I care about this way he would be out on his asssssssss
#bts#bts x reader#bts x you#bts x y/n#bts imagine#bts imagines#yoongi#yoongi x reader#yoongi imagine#yoongi imagines#min yoongi#min yoongi x reader#min yoongi imagine#min yoongi imagines#suga#suga x reader#suga imagine#suga imagines#seokjin#kim seokjin#jin#jung hoseok#hoseok#jhope#kim namjoon#namjoon#park jimin#jimin#kim taehyung#taehyung
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Dad!Harry having all daughters and all of them are either doing his hair or putting makeup on him while asking him silly questions about himself 😙
Title: Beautiful Chaos
Word Count: 1.9k
Category: dad!harry fluff
Warnings: Not proofread but none other than that.
That was lovely to write, too, my heart is about to buRST although I couldn’t find a suitable photo for the Instagram post I add at the end oops
There were a lot of things that your husband, Harry, enjoyed. Like, you spooning him after a long day at work, like smelling your coconut scent through the house, and like the fact that he was a father of 3 healthy girls.
Perla, Emerald, and Ruby were 3 girls whom Harry could go to hell and back for, not to mention you, but it had always been like that since the moment he met you.
Perla, being 7 years old, frequently took pride in her “big sister” title, wearing it like a sash around her and especially at her school and around her friends. Out of her sisters, she was the most protective of her family and it was something that had never failed to make you and Harry melt.
Harry even often found himself going on his phone, watching a video he had discreetly recorded when she was only 2. She was sitting on one of the kitchen stools, her eyes following your every move as you made her a sandwich with your baby bump showing, in your 9th month.
“careful, mummy.”
“Mummy, careful!”
“Thank you, mummy. Thank you, little baby.”
She had said during the video, adding a kiss to your bump after her last sentence.
Then Emerald came into the world, and Harry sometimes found himself wondering if his heart had doubled its size to fit all the love he had for his family.
Being 5, Emerald – or Emma as you all frequently called her – was quiet. She was a collected, flexible child who enjoyed art. Harry’s music? She would be listening carefully to it, saying comments that not all 5-year-olds would say;
“I like the piano here.”
“Uncle Mitch did a great job here!”
“Daddy, the bass is so low.”
And it only made sense that yours and Harry’s phones were full of pictures of her with her toy guitar around her shoulders, strumming as she cutely sang Harry’s songs or even some Fleetwood Mac into her green microphone.
And then came your youngest, being 3 – Ruby.
Ruby was a funny and hyperactive child. No hairstyle could sit still for her and more often than not, she sat with messy and chaotic brown hair, clothes a little disheveled. She was definitely more of a risk-taker than her sisters.
You remember only months ago at the beginning of the year, before the pandemic outbreak, when you and Harry were visiting a friend of yours from work and they had a big dog, a Great Dane, Perla and Emerald hiding behind you and Harry as they saw the dog but Ruby thrashed in Harry’s arms, demanding he put her down so she can “play with the puppy.”
And the one time you were at Anne’s, Ruby had curiously poked Dusty’s stomach, which the cat didn’t like to defend itself, it scratched 2-year-old Ruby’s hand.
Everyone stared in shock, waiting for Ruby to break down and cry but were surprised when she stared at her hand with a frown before looking at Dusty who walked off,
“Sorry!” She had only shouted at the cat before standing and grabbing a grape to eat.
With the pandemic outbreak, your family of 5 was quarantined in your London home. Refusing to leave the house unless it was absolutely necessary, you had guided your daughters to understanding how important it was to wear a face mask while outside because it was their duty towards all people, you and Harry included.
But with the pandemic, you and Harry were busy at creating ways that would keep the kids busy as well. From movie nights to activities, you both had tried to keep the kids entertained as well as aware of what was going on as best as you could.
It was one day when everything was just slow-paced, quiet, and chill. Harry had shaved his beard and left a mustache, one that your daughters were very amused by and had been all week.
You sat with your laptop on your lap, earphones connected as you watched The Good Place, but keeping the sound low enough for you to hear what your kids were conversing about.
Harry sat beside you, reading a book he had picked up a couple of days ago, his hand behind your back, fingers gently and mindlessly caressing your back, stroking it up and down in a comforting and soothing manner.
Perla and Ruby were sat together, coloring the most recent sketched you had printed them, while Emerald was sat on the floor against your legs, trying to make you and Harry a beaded bracelet from the toy set Harry had gotten her earlier.
“Mummy, does this look nice?” She asked, turning to look at you as she raised a pink-beaded thread string.
You lowered your laptop screen, looking at her. “It looks very nice, baby. Do you want me to tie it?”
“Yes, please.” She stood, handing you the string and watching you in awe as you did as if you were doing pure magic. You tied it in the way you had learned years ago, when friendship bracelets were a thing, making sure that it can get tighter or looser, however the wearer wanted.
“There you go.”
“Thank you, Mummy.” She grinned as she took it before moving to Harry, attempting to climb him which earned her a giggle from him as he helped her up, putting his book aside before mentally cursing himself because he didn’t know where he stopped.
“Look! I made you this!” Emerald grinned as she handed Harry the bracelet, watching excitedly and waiting for his reaction.
Harry gasped dramatically, “Woooow!” He looked at the bracelet lovingly, feeling like his heart was about to burst as he put it on, vowing to never take it off to himself. “I love it, Em. Thank you so much, baby.”
Emerald grinned bashfully, raising her shoulders closer to her cheeks as she did, Harry grabbing her to press a kiss against her hairline.
You watched with pure love, show long forgotten as you paused and gave your full attention to the scene.
Noticing what was going on, your oldest and youngest paused their coloring to approach you and look at their dad’s new jewelry.
“Good job, Em. Can you make me one?” Your oldest, Perla, asked excitedly as she eyed the bracelet before grinning at her shorter sister, who excitedly nodded at her.
“Me, too!” Ruby chimed, “But blue!”
“First, Mummy,” Emerald pointed at you, “Then Per,” she pointed at her older sister, “Then Rube.”
“Starting a business, aren’t you?” Harry joked, bringing her close to his chest as he playfully gnawed on her cheek, smiling as she squealed out in laughter.
As if the idea had been in her mind for a while, Perla suddenly blurted out a question:
“Daddy, can I put makeup on you?”
You grinned, looking at Harry and waiting for his reply.
He looked at you quickly before moving back to Perla, “I don’t see why not. Go on, get the stuff you need.”
“Ruby, you think we can paint daddy’s nails?” You asked your youngest with an excited grin, hearing your husband laugh.
Ruby nodded with a squeal, holding your hand as you stood up before Perla ran in front of you, you and Ruby following her as you ran towards yours and Harry’s room to get the stuff needed.
“Blue!” Ruby pointed at the blue nail polish bottle while Perla stood with your makeup bag, “And pink.”
“Yellow, too,” Perla added.
“How about we take the whole thing.” You chuckled as you gathered the box in your hands, walking behind your squealing, excited daughters.
At the sight of you, Emerald lit up, “I’ll do daddy’s hair!”
“You girls are giving Daddy a whole makeover, huh?” Harry laughed lovingly, welcoming all the attention.
You sat on Harry’s right, Ruby on his left with the blue nail polish bottle in her hand as she sat on her stomach with Harry’s hand waiting for her. Perla sat on Harry’s lap while Emerald climbed and seated herself on Harry’s shoulders, scrunchie around her wrist as she played with Harry’s hair.
Harry would have been lying if he said he didn’t enjoy how everything was right there and then. His wife was painting his nails in pink, pastel yellow, and baby blue while his 3-year-old was having her go with his other hand, getting polish on his cuticles but trying nonetheless. His oldest daughter brushing his cheeks with her mom’s blush brush, while his 5-year-old was gently pulling on his hair.
“Okay, done,” Perla closed the blush before moving to choose a lipstick, ending up with your red Mac one and opening it, “Daddy, do like that.” She instructed, puckering her lips. So Harry did, looking up as he did and trying to stifle his giggles as she put on lipstick on his puckered lips, “Okay, no more.” So he set his lips back, Perla continuing on applying the vibrant red color.
You hunched a little forward, a smile making its way to your lips, “Looking beautiful, baby.”
He hummed, his chest shaking with laughter as he felt the lipstick above his upper lip before Perla pulled back and looked back in the bag to apply anything more. He looked at you as you painted the last nail in pink, keeping only his middle finger’s nail in pastel yellow while his thumb and index were in baby blue, his ring and pinky’s being in pink. “Feeling so, too.” He said as he closed his eyes and raised his eyebrows, letting out a sigh of contentment for emphasis, overly dramatic, making you laugh.
It was 20 minutes later when his girls were done with their work and pushed him towards him and his wife’s bedroom, where they had a full-body length mirror.
He looked absolutely chaotic, and he loved everything about it. While his hair stuck in all directions, some lockets were collected by Emerald’s peach-colored scrunchie, one hand was nicely painted – which was painted by his wife – while the other was an absolute mess of blue but you can spot the attempt and it was nothing a nail polish remover couldn’t fix, his eyelids having some glitter on them, red lipstick nicely put except for a smudge right above his upper lip, cheeks too pink.
“What do you think?” Perla asked excitedly.
“Wow!” Harry breathed out, moving closer to the mirror, “I look glamorous!” He put his hands up in a peace sign, puckering his lips and popping up a leg as he posed, making his family laugh.
“Wait, let’s take a picture.” You grinned, raising your phone up as everyone got into a spot; Emerald had her arm thrown on Ruby’s shoulders as she smiled, Ruby sticking her tongue out, Perla choosing to sit down in front of her sisters, crossing her legs as she grinned with her eyes closed. You stood behind the hugging sisters, against Harry’s chest. Harry wrapped one arm around your shoulders from the back, the other around your waist as he smiled into the mirror, his head leaning down to press his cheek against yours. You held your phone with one hand, the other reaching up to hold on to Harry’s arm around you as you grinned before taking the picture.
“Let’s frame that.” Harry whispered to you in bliss, looking at the photo from behind you before moving to wrap both arms around your waist, “Thank you, love. For making me the happiest man alive.”
#wellbeafinelime#harry styles imagine#harry styles#dad!harry#dad harry styles imagine#dad!harry imagine#dad!harry au#harry styles fluff#harry styles fluff imagine#harry styles one shot#harry styles fluff one shot#fluff one shot#fluff#harry styles x you#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x reader
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can I kiss you on the dancefloor?
Steve Rogers/Reader
One year into a relationship, yet still dancing in secrecy. Steve thinks he’s protecting you.
When a civilian and a hero fall in love, anything could go wrong. But not in the way Steve would have thought.
Or how the media play with the lives of superheroes.
►word count: 7.6k
► warnings(!): slight angst, alcohol
A/N: My gift to @blue-like-barnes for the Hoelentines Fic Exchange! I’m sorry it took some time, giftee. I didn’t expect this to turn into a monster (yikes). Thank you for hosting @amythedvdhoarder @chrissquares @drabblewithfrannybarnes ! Dividers from @firefly-graphics and GIF from Giphy
On his day-offs, Steve Rogers was a man full of disguises.
When they first started, it was the baseball cap and thick-rimmed glasses. He liked it, it was simple, but he knew it wouldn’t be long before someone would notice. How could one not when his face was the one plastered in old war propaganda, in the museums commemorating his achievements, and even flashes on the telly when you walk past the local electronics store.
Hence, it wasn’t a surprise when the tabloids posted a photo of him in his disguise, waiting at a crosswalk on a cold night.
‘Captain America spotted on a midnight stroll’ came the next morning. It was taken after he was done walking you home, thankful they didn’t catch a glimpse of you.
“So capsicle, where were you off to last night?” Tony greeted him at breakfast, offending paper in hand. He unrolled it, opening and making a show of reading, displaying the front page for all seated to see. “Nice reading glasses, wasn’t aware you needed them.”
Striding into the room, Natasha came and snatched the tabloid. She gave it a critical eye, judging, before turning towards him.
“Hmm, recycling disguises, Rogers? I’m disappointed.”
Steve just groaned in reply.
The second time it happened, he had gone to the Black Widow herself for advice. He had expected sound advice coming from a former KGB spy who spent her paycheck on hair, but all he got was a stick-on mustache. Something about ‘needing to blend in rather than pointing the obvious’.
“I don’t know what you’re up to, Steve, but at least it’s better than that nerd get-up,” she smirked.
You had liked it. Giggling every time he kissed you, the fibres tickling your lips. He had ‘a caterpillar’ on his upper lip as you called it. And Steve had learned to get used to the itch.
But it wasn’t long before his new look was the star in barbershops.
‘Captain America’s new look takes the world by storm.’ They had caught him again in another paparazzi shot. Tony had teased him for days after.
He couldn’t shake it off easily, constantly reminded of it when he walked the streets. Seeing them on screens when he’s channel-surfing. Even when he’s training new recruits, his vision filled with a sea of unshaved cadets, their hairy upper lips a prominent fixture.
He knew he had to do something when Bucky and Sam came in one day sporting twin mustaches.
He discarded the strip of fibre in the bin. Reminding to pay Natasha a visit.
The third time he decided, he seeked out the help of Scott Lang, who was a master in keeping out of sight during his burglary days. Scott had given him a black beanie and told him to grow out his facial hair.
The beanie hid his golden locks and the beard made him look rugged. You loved it, your thighs quivered when it was him and you in the four walls of your room. Uncontrollable groans as he went down. ‘Beard burn’ you had called it. Whatever it was, he loved the sounds you let out.
Four months. That’s how long the disguise lasted. His longest disguise to date.
Before he became a trend.
‘Captain America is the new style icon.’ The internet sleuths found out where he got it too. ‘The sale of Walmart beanies skyrocketed by 70% thanks to Captain America.’
Tony had bought everyone in the compound a black beanie for Christmas, including the receptionist.
“Our grandpa’s a trendsetter, who knew,” he announced. Steve had smacked the back of Tony’s head with the beanie before retiring the disguise.
Now, sitting in The Sleeping Cat, Steve had opted for aviators and a Nasa baseball cap. He still kept his beard after your pleads, and he liked the look, he admits. It was back to basics for him and this was one of the only places where he was safe from prying eyes. Afterall, it was in this very café where he had met you.
The Sleeping Cat was a quaint little thing, a hole in the wall in a quiet part of the city. Not many knew of its existence, the entrance obscure, a blink and you’ll miss it. Which made it all the more perfect for him. The baristas knew him and minded their own business, offering him a smile every time he visited. ‘You’re safe with us’ they seem to say.
He could say the same about the patrons. Most that frequented were regulars like him, they seemed the same, looking for a place to get away from the overbearing world. They seemed to share an understanding, paying him no mind as if he was just another man they passed on the streets. And that’s how he preferred it.
Just a boy from Brooklyn.
Ding!
The chime of the door pulled him out of his thoughts. Facing the door, he saw you, smiling as you came through.
This was the best part of his days.
You had met Steve Rogers at the most unexpected of times.
Terminated from your previous job at a small gallery, dumped by an ex-boyfriend after a 2 year relationship, you were at an utmost low. To escape your roommates —in case of pitying or prying, but if you were honest with yourself, it was to escape your own humiliation— you left the apartment on weekdays under the guise of going to work. In reality, you were at The Sleeping Cat applying for jobs on your laptop.
It was during one of the afternoon hours when you felt a tap on your shoulder.
Turning to your left, you were greeted by a pair of startling blues. They were bright but worn as if they’ve seen too many. Looking at the bigger picture, you took him in. Hair hidden under a cap, a sharp jaw and an equally sharp nose, and if you looked closely, you thought you could spot a few moles on his cheeks. He looked familiar, but you couldn’t put a finger to it.
Eyes fleeting to his lips, you realized he was actually talking.
“Huh?”
“I was wondering if this seat’s taken?” He smiled, gesturing towards the empty seat opposite. He was clearly amused.
“Yeah, sure, sure,” you nodded, making room for his things.
The following days, it became a routine and an arrangement. You would be at the café as early as the owner would allow, laptop in hand. While he would come in the afternoons in a different jacket each day, a sketchbook in hand. You would be propped up, sending application after application, praying for luck. While he would quietly sit, churning sketch after sketch, in a relaxed demeanour.
Sometimes you would peek over your screen and watch him draw for a few minutes, lost in his strokes. When you look up, you’ll find his eyes locked with yours, and you’ll immediately reimmerse yourself behind the screen, embarrassed.
It was a comfortable routine. You came to expect him everyday. And on the days that he didn’t make it, you felt a bit forlorn looking at the empty seat. You both didn’t talk much, yet you were getting comfortable in his presence.
Until one day, he broke the silence.
“So, what is it that you do?”
You stared, dumbfounded. Looking around there wasn’t anyone nearby.
“Were you talking to me?” you asked.
“Yes,” he chuckled. “It’s just that you’re always on your computer…” he trailed off.
“I’m an assistant curator at an art gallery— or, er, used to be,” you explained. “Long story short, I lost my job and now I’m looking for a new one, that’s why I’m here.”
He seemed to ruminate before replying, “So you know a thing or two about art?”
You both started a new routine; one with a lot of communicating. He would ask you about your mundane weekends and interests and in turn, you would ask about his. Except, he was anything but mundane.
On the days he was absent, you learned Steve was away on a lot of ‘business trips’. When he returned, he had never failed to present you with a souvenir. From matryoshkas to sarongs, it was always a surprise accompanied by a tale.
“The pattern on the sarong is called a batik, and it’s amazing how they’re drawn using wax like a liquid crayon. It’s an interesting art form.”
Outside of your little routine, he was an enigma. You barely knew about the Steve outside of The Sleeping Cat. Sometimes he threw the names ‘Bucky’ and ‘Sam’ a lot —out of exhaustion— without giving away anything, remaining tight-lipped. While his mysteriousness should’ve been a cause of concern, you couldn’t help but gravitate towards him, wanting to peel more of his layers, like the shell of a matryoshka.
The routine went on for a few more weeks, with calls of interviews and business trips in between. Before you received a phone call.
“I got a job! At the Whitney!” you squealed, shaking his shoulders over the table, oblivious to the other patrons. Steve endured it, smiling.
“Congratulations,” he said when you’ve calmed down. “I guess this is the last time I’ll be seeing you?”
You froze, high coming down, realization settling in. After a few weeks of secret meetings, of getting to know him, of having lunch together, of sharing laughs, you’ve come to see Steve as a good friend. And maybe, there was the birth of something more.
“Let’s exchange numbers,” you said, opening your phone. “This way, maybe we can hang out again. Have lunch sometimes?”
“I’d like that.” He smiled.
And the rest was history.
Making your way towards The Sleeping Cat, you amused yourself with past memories. Memories from almost over a year ago.
Steve had come to give a speech at the opening ceremony of an exhibition at the Whitney. Your first exhibition as a curator. An exhibition on art from the war times. When they had announced his title, a loud ‘oh’ was the only thing you could muster.
The ‘ding’ of the bell resounded, announcing your arrival. Heading in, you saw a head perked up, beaming, baseball cap securing his golden locks and aviators hiding his mesmerizing blues.
This was the best part of your days.
But maybe, you were getting a little tired.
If someone were to ask you months ago if you were happy and content with your relationship, you would’ve replied with a swift yes in a heartbeat. No hesitation, no reservations, no doubt. Now, sitting in the same cafe, the same one you frequent on dates, the same one you both met in, you weren’t sure of the answer anymore.
As Steve gets up to order for you both, your eyes wander to his sketchpad. It was filled with sketches of random objects; the flower on the table, the pastries on display, sometimes the patrons of the cafe, and occasionally, you.
“You’re my favourite subject, so far.”
It was not for the lack of love or the lack of affection. Steve was the most loving; loyal in so many ways, gentle when asked, and protective to a fault. Maybe the protectiveness was the cause of it all.
Staring at Steve’s back, your mind shifted to a memory from the past week, when your roommate pulled you aside from a get-together at the ice rink.
“Hey,” she called your name, taking a hold of your elbow. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”
“Sure, what’s up?” you followed her, leading you to the sides.
Her eyes conveyed her worry. It amplified with the chewing of her bottom lip, a nervous tick.
“Are you and Steve… okay?” she asked, her brows perked. “I’m not sure if you notice, but today, it’s full of couples.”
You looked towards your group of friends. There was your roommate’s girlfriend tying her skates, your other roommate and her boyfriend talking to another couple —their friends— and they were all holding their significant other’s hand. Oh.
“I don’t want to throw you out of the loop, but there would probably be a lot of double skating involved today,” she said, widening her eyes, looking comical. “Do you want me to talk to Steve? Maybe I could convince him to come, y’know?”
Out of your two roommates, she was the only one who knew of your paramour. Having walked in on you and Steve making out on the couch. She was sworn into secrecy, with the promise of autographs from all the Avengers.
“Look, it’s okay,” you assured her. “I can handle skating alone, and you know why he can’t really come here with us,” you shrugged.
“Okay, but aren’t you tired? Of all this sneaking around? Don’t you want to shout to the whole world ‘I’m fucking Captain America!’” she flailed.
You shushed her, muffling her mouth with your gloved hand.
Part of the secret was how Steven Rogers was an engineered superhero. A superhero with many enemies, leading him to fear for his loved ones, and that included you.
You went into the relationship whole-heartedly knowing the challenges; discreet rendezvous, kisses in the dark, minimal contact in public. You were his secret and he was yours. It was for your own good, wasn’t it?
“What’s got your little head wrapped up?” Steve’s voice startled you, bringing you back to the café. On the table, two cups of coffee and a slice of cake was served.
“Hmm? Oh, just thinking about this party the museum’s throwing this weekend,” you took your cup, blowing, contemplating your next words.“Say, how about you and I, I don’t know, go as dates?”
Steve crunched his brows. “You know that’s a hard thing for me to do, especially with your colleagues around.”
“I know! But maybe… maybe, you can go in one of your disguises this time? Remember that one time we went to Central Park?”
Steve exhaled, he remembered that afternoon. It was the one-off that you both ventured on a date in the outdoors.
Decked in his beanie, casually strolling through Central Park with you beside him. Although he was still wary, keeping his hands in his pockets, fighting the urge to hold your hand.
No one had recognized him; not the ice-cream man, not the kids running around, not the mothers pushing strollers. No one.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
You leaned forward, pecking him on the lips multiple times. “Thank you!”
“You sure this looks convincing?”
“Trust me, punk. Grade A assassin here, thank you very much,” Bucky boasted while fixing the wig on his scalp, untangling the unruly strands.
Steve had sought Bucky for help, with the belief that assassins were good at hiding in plain sight (and maybe, he just didn’t want to go to Natasha twice). Bucky was also his most trusted confidant and he knew about you, Steve trusted him not to tell. But now looking at himself in the opposite mirror, he wasn’t so sure of that anymore.
Long dangly tresses hung on the sides of his face parting in the middle, a trimmed beard leaving a bit of goatee, and to finish it off, Bucky dressed him in a checkered shirt consisting of random coloured squares. He looked like he just stepped out of the 60’s.
“Oh, wear these,” Bucky handed him a pair of large wire-framed glasses. “Done.”
Steve took a look in the mirror. A seedy pimp was the first thought that crossed his mind.
“Thanks Buck, I owe you one.”
“Sure Stevie, just bring me around next time on one of your dates, I’d like to meet her,” Bucky winked. “Or make it double.” He wagged his brows. “Like old times.”
Steve snorted.
“Okay, I got—“ Steve’s words halted when an alarm blared overhead. It demanded their attention.
“Captain Rogers, Sergeant Barnes, your presence is required in Prep Room six,” called the disembodied voice. “There’s been a breach of extraterrestrial energy in the airspace of Sweden.”
Steve exited and rushed through the hallways, Bucky following close behind. He made it through the living quarters, trudging to the training wing before entering one of the many prep rooms.
“Nice costume, Cap. Halloween already?” Sam quipped. Almost everyone was present, they were equally amused.
Before anyone else could follow, Tony strided in immediately, grumbling. “Okay team, there’s been an E.T synthezoid putting holes in the ozone layer. I’ll fill you all in the quinjet. Suit up and meet me at the hangover in 10.”
Everybody gathered their equipment and hurried to leave, passing by him. Before Tony could, he took notice of Steve and did a double take. And then a third.
“What’s with the pimp daddy get-up, Capsicle?”
Steve huffed, ignoring the jab. “I have something that I need to attend. How important am I in this, Tony?”
“We need all hands on deck. We don’t really know what we’re up against, Fury’s still running recon,” Tony explained, squaring his shoulders. “Whatever it is you have, Cap. It can wait. Lives are at stake here.” With that, he left, not standing by for a response.
“Darn it,” Steve cursed, removing the glasses and the wig.
He left the prep room with his shield in hand. With one hand, he shot a text to you. He’ll make it up next time.
Loverboy [6:30 PM]: Emergency mission
Loverboy [6:30 PM]: Can’t make it, sorry
You switched the screen off, sighing. Around you, the party was in full swing. Invitees mingling with refreshments in hand, discussing the pieces on display tonight, and bidding on the pieces they find exquisite. Hors d’oeuvres and champagne were being served, brought around by servers on silver platters. You’ve been munching on them non-stop, grabbing one every time a server comes your way, needing something to occupy you.
Surrounding you, you���d see the occasional couple walking around, enjoying their time. The palms of their hands locked in each other’s as they navigate together, rarely straying afar.
You clenched your hand, reminded of how empty it felt.
It was inevitable, you were warned of this, you were told to expect this. Dating a superhero meant that he was never solely yours. You were sharing your boyfriend with someone, except that someone was the world.
“Hiiii!” a shrill voice broke your thought, calling you by name. A blonde woman, followed by a brunette emerged from the gathering of art-goers, headed towards you. “It’s been a long while!”
“Hey! Yeah, it’s been awhile,” you waved, recognizing the two.
When they reached you, you were aware of the slight tension in the air, leaving the three of you standing awkwardly. After all, these two were your ex-colleagues and you didn’t exactly leave the previous gallery on good terms. Tonight was a night with masks, it seemed.
“So, how are you two doing?” you decided to get it over with.
“We’re fine, everyone’s fine! But how are you? We heard you worked here now, pretty impressive,” the brunette —Claire— winked at you. You laughed.
“Yeah, it’s so nice seeing you again, and at the Whitney? The pay must be good, you know what I’m saying?” Hilda chimed, knocking her elbows with yours. You didn’t appreciate it but you endured.
“Say, what are you doing over here far away? Why not you join us over there,” Hilda pointed, towards a mounted canvas at the end of the hall. It was occupied by two men in a discussion among themselves. “Chat a bit to catch up, a bit of art philosophical debate in between. What do you say?”
You contemplated her offer, not wanting to seem pretentious, but thought about the false flattery and ego-stroking that would sure ensue in their company. The thought of it drained you.
“It’s okay,” you waved them off nervously. “I have to call my boyfriend sooner, gotta check up on him and let him know I’m... alright.” You held up your phone, playing on convincing.
“Oh? He isn’t here tonight?” Claire seemed to feign worry.
“No, he got caught up with something. He’s a busy man,” you cooked up an excuse. No one could know.
“Okay… In that case, we’ll leave you to it. Maybe we’ll bump into each other sooner.”
“Yeah, I’ll see you guys soon.”
They waved before backing away into the mass of patrons. You let out a breath you didn’t know you held in.
While the interaction was unexpected, this was what you had to deal with when it came to the question of your relationship. The excuses, they became second nature to you. The lies. The deceit. Anything to protect Steve’s identity, and inadvertently, you.
Throughout the night, you mingled with any clients interested in a work of art, all the while stepping out of Hilda and Claire’s line of sight. You didn’t wish a repeat of the earlier evening.
When the crowd started dwindling, signalling the end of the night, you were relieved of your duties. You headed straight for the restrooms after, one getaway before leaving. You huddled yourself in a cubicle, locking it shut.
Seconds in, you heard the creak of the restroom door followed by the clicks of heels.
“Can you believe it? Someone like that got the chance of working here.”
You recognized the nasally tone. It was Claire.
“Yeah? Not like she deserves it. I mean look at her? Demure, slow. It’s like talking to a mouse. I bet she’s a prude too.” That was Hilda.
The gushing of the faucet muffled their voices, but their sharp words were clear as day, your ear catching every snark and hiss.
“And when she was talking about her boyfriend? He probably doesn’t even exist, it was just to get off our backs,” Hilda paused. “Last time I heard, her boyfriend dumped her. So, I guess she’s creating imaginary ones now.”
They both cackled.
By now, you knew they were talking about you. Their words didn’t hurt as much, you knew the colour of their hearts beneath the masks. But was that how people viewed your hidden relationship? A facade? A farce?
Once the door clicked shut, and the tapping of their heels faded, you left the restroom, heart feeling heavier.
(y/n) [6:45 PM]: stay safe stevie ! remember to hydrate
(y/n) [6:46 PM]: punch those meanies
(y/n) [6:46 PM]: (`⌒*)⍟-(`⌒´Q)
Steve chuckled when he turned on his phone, amused at your texts. You always sent him good luck messages every time he went off for missions. Although he didn’t seem to get the emoticons that you sent, even after being taught by Peter Parker. He just didn’t get them.
Steve dialed your number, sitting on the edge of the bed as he dried his washed hair. Beeps ringed before you picked up, your smooth lilt permeating the speakers.
“Hello? Stevie?”
Steve smiled, missing the caress of your voice after a day filled with explosions and cries.
“Hello, sweetheart,” he greeted. “How’s my girl been?”
“Great, now that you called,” you teased. “But are ‘you’ fine?” you emphasized.
On the other end of the line, you mirrored his position, sitting on one corner of the bed. Picking the newspaper in your lap, you observed the front page: ‘Avengers saves the Arctic!’
“Same old, same old,” his voice carries. “Listen, about yesterday—“
“It’s okay,” you interrupted him, other hand gripping the newspaper. “You have to protect the Earth and that also means me. You don’t have to apologize, I knew what I signed up for.”
Did you? Or was it now a hollow statement to convince yourself?
“I still want to make up for it, my girl deserves that much,” he responded.
You slowly unclenched the paper. It left Steve’s form crinkled.
“If you want to sooo bad,” you exaggerated. “There’s a Valentines charity ball for our arts program in three weeks time. You think you could make it this time?”
“You know no promises, but I plan to, even if I have to do everyone’s laundry for a week.” You heard rustling on the other line. “What’s the exact date? I’ll put it on my calendar.”
“The 16th.” Scratchy scribbling filled your ear, the sound loud in the silence.
“Done. Can’t wait to see you all dolled up, sweetheart.”
“Me too, baby,” you said. “At least put on a nice moustache this time.”
He laughed. Your heart felt lighter. To him, it was probably nothing, but to you, it was a form of reassurance. A reassurance that what you had was real.
“Steve, you got a moment?”
The aforementioned man turned around, taking a glance over his shoulder. Sharon Carter slowed to a stop, a small smile on her face. As always, she carried an air of superiority, matching that of Steve’s wavelength. Yet today, it seemed dim.
“I think we need to talk, you have time for coffee?”
Glancing at his watch, he nodded. “Sure, Sharon. Lead the way.”
She took them outside of S.H.I.E.L.D and into the chilly air of DC, navigating through streets and crowds while huddling in their coats. They chatted, breaths puffing as they caught up, the familiar scenes passing by.
He hadn’t been in DC in awhile, it felt good to be back.
“We’re here.”
Sharon headed in first, holding the door for him. He thanked her. They ordered and got seated. A smile was shared, strained as it seemed.
“Better just rip the band-aid off,” Sharon sighed. “I miss us.”
“Sharon—“
“Please, hear me out first,” she insisted, showing her palm. “We probably shouldn’t have done what we’ve done after Aunt Peggy’s funeral. I just lost someone I looked up to the most, and you lost the woman that you loved. We were both grieving. It wasn’t fair to the both of us.”
“While I do miss us, I know that it wasn’t meant to be,” she continued, shooting a sombre smile. “I understand that now. I guess, what I wanted was closure.”
Her hand quivered on the table between them. Steve clasped his over hers, offering to soothe.
“I don’t regret what happened in Germany. While yes, it should have not happened, it was what we thought we needed at that time. We both lost someone we held dear,” Steve explained, hoping his words reached her. “None of it was a mistake, Sharon. You’re still someone I trust and hold dear, remember that.”
Steve clutched her hand tighter, running his thumb over her knuckles in circular motions, attempting to calm and show understanding.
In his efforts, unknown to the two, the shutter of a camera went off across the street.
Something felt off. Everything that could go wrong, went wrong. At first, you thought it was your own anxious mind running.
You woke up late on a work day, burned your eggs and toast, accidentally wore unmatching socks, and your roommate was acting weird. All jittery when you entered the hall, stammering her words, and performing this bizarre dance when you walked past the living room. You gave her no mind when you passed the threshold and slammed the door, phone gripped in hand.
Loverboy [6:00 AM]: Good morning, dear
Loverboy [6:01 AM]: [image]
A photo of Steve, sweaty after a run showed on the screen. He was smiling, shirt stained and clinging to his chest. You had taught him how to take selfies.
You [7:20 AM]: morning, handsome
You [7:20 AM]: 😍😍😍
The morning texts were the best part of your morning commute. It made the arduous and packed journey worthwhile. Even when you almost tripped at the doors, it couldn’t take away your joy.
You made it just in time and clocked in, meeting clients and discussions with artists throughout the day. It was uneventful, although the bad luck seemed to have followed when you spilled your coffee on the concrete.
It was when you left the museum that your day took a turn for the worst.
On the ride home, the man opposite you was reading a newspaper. Nothing unusual, but at a glance, you thought you saw a familiar face printed on the corner. Before you could take a closer look, the man folded it in half and got off.
A few minutes later, you arrived at your stop, exiting the station with the fast-paced crowd. That’s when you were bombarded.
Lining the streets, your vision was filled with the scattering of a crowd of papers. Every face you saw was plastered in them.
‘The Good Captain In Love?’
‘A Superhero & A Civilian Romance?’
‘Captain America’s Girl? Mysterious Woman Sighted’
The sight of them left you in a panic, your anxiety spiking through the roof. Your world started spinning, everything —buildings, trees, faces— blending altogether. Everywhere your eyes deflected, a headline invaded your sight, imprinting itself on your retinas. Had they found out?
Composing yourself, you headed towards the nearest news stall, mind boggled with too many questions and not enough answers. How? Why? When?
Only, it wasn’t your face they were publishing.
‘“Oh Captain, My Captain” America in love? Spotted last week in DC was Captain Steven Rogers with a mysterious lady. They seemed to be cozy with each other, an eyewitness told Us Weekly. Story on Page 11.’
The photograph showcased Steve with a blonde woman, sitting in a café with their hands clasped on the table. Your heart shattered at the sight, remembering how empty yours have felt lately.
Was he purposely out with this woman in public? What did that mean for you? Why were you shadowed?
“Are you and Steve… okay?”
“She’s creating imaginary ones now.”
“Aren’t you tired? Of all this sneaking around?”
“You know that’s a hard thing for me to do.”
“Hey lady, you gonna pay for that?”
You were shaken out of your stupor. Looking down, you were clutching the magazine too hard, ripping the image of Steve and the woman in half, right in the middle where their hands met.
You apologized to the man and paid for the magazine. Immediately discarding it in the next trash bin you saw.
“So… you and Sharon?” Sam had asked him after training.
“What?”
“You, and, Sharon,” Sam emphasized, pronouncing each syllable. “Are together. Man, when were you gonna tell me? I thought it was over.”
Steve froze before replying, “Because it is. A long time ago.”
“Well, this seems to say otherwise.”
Sam showed him his phone, the screen displaying an article; ‘Captain America’s Girl Revealed. A Family Affair That Transcends Time.’ On top of the article was a photo of him and Sharon at the cafe in DC, his hand atop of hers on the table. A zoomed in version of their hands were provided, fueling the tabloid’s narrative.
Steve paled at the sight. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This was his fears manifested; his anonymity taken, his privacy invaded, but his worst fear was putting his loved ones in danger. And if it was due to their association with him, it would leave him racked with guilt.
While the tabloids were wrong, he knew that Sharon could defend for herself. You on the other hand…
His heart rate rose, a new wave of anxiety spiked. Steve wondered if you’ve seen this. No, you must’ve seen this.
Fishing for his phone, with clammy hands, Steve quickly dialed your number, anxiously waiting for the beeping to end.
‘The number you’ve dialed is not—‘
“Damn it!”
His outburst surprised Sam, shocking him. Sam gave him a look, inquisitive.
“Sorry Sam, I have to run.”
He left, heart in his throat.
When Steve arrived at your apartment, he was almost out of breath. He was still anxious, the ride here not doing much to his addled mind. But he was determined.
Rapidly knocking on your front door, Steve composed himself. When it opened, he was met with the sight of your roommate -- the one that he has never met before.
“Ca-Captain America?” she yelped, shocked to see him on the doorstep.
“Is your roommate in?” he steeled.
“Which one—”
“Steve,” a voice interrupted.
The door pulled further, widening the entrance. Steve was met with your familiar roommate. She was tense, arms locked across her chest, eyes full of fury. Steve detected something else in them; worry.
“You fucked up,” she said. He winced.
“I know,” he admitted. “And I’m here to make things right. Can I please see her?”
She sighed, stepping in, nodding towards your room.
Steve hastily walked in, stopping in front of your door. He knocked thrice, signalling you, before turning the knob. It was unlocked. The room was dark when he entered, every source of light switched off, except for your curtains.
Sitting on the edge of the bed was you, figure illuminated by the street lights against pitch black darkness. When he stepped in closer, you looked up, eyes meeting his.
Steve turned on the lights and closed the door. He took a good look at you; hair frazzled, eyes bloodshot and dry, nose red. You were the image of heartbreak.
“Are you ashamed of me?” you asked, eyes locked with his.
“What? No, I—“
“Is it because I’m not strong?” you cut him off. “I know she’s Peggy’s niece… a-and I know how much you loved her. She was your first love.”
“She and I, it’s all in the past. She moved on and lived her life, and I… did too.”
“But did you really, Steve? Move on?” you whispered, getting up. You stood in front of him. Steve could see how puffed your eyes were from crying. “Or was I just… a rebound?”
“No. No, you were never a rebound,” he took hold of your forearms. “I care for you, too much.”
“Then why?!” you shrieked, shocking Steve. “Why the secrets? Why the hiding? Steve, you’ve never even introduced me to your friends. Shouldn’t they know?”
“I wanted to protect you!”
“Protect me from what?!” you roared, eyes full of fury. “The Avengers? If they knew about me, they would protect me. Don’t you think so?”
Steve had no words to that, his mind a jumbled mess.
“I’m… beginning to think that you’re embarrassed with me,” you sighed. “We’ve never been on a date publicly, as each other. We’ve never held hands in public. I want you to meet my friends. I want to introduce you to them, and maybe soon, I want you to meet my family.”
“B-but, I’m tired, Steve. Tired of all the hiding. Of all the sneaking around. I want to tell the world that I’m in love with Steve Rogers, not Captain America,” you sighed, shedding a few tears.
You waited for his reply, only to be disappointed.
“You know I can’t do that.”
You saw red. All you saw was red.
You started pushing him, swatting him in the chest. Steve didn’t fight back, letting you unleash your anger, your disappointment. He took your hits, letting you release your pent up emotions. He began backing away when you started advancing, back against the door.
“Get out! Get out!” you screeched, pushing him.
When he unlocked the door and crossed, you immediately shut the door in his face. Steve heard sobbing from inside, his heart shattering at the sounds.
“This way, Captain,” your roommate approached him, showing him to the door.
Steve relented, shame flooding him. He fucked up.
You stopped visiting The Sleeping Cat, wanting to avoid him at all costs. You blocked his number. You immersed yourself in your work, prepping for the upcoming charity gala.
Sometimes you find yourself thinking about him when sleep proved to be difficult. It’s when you’re laying at night that you missed him the most.
But it was for the best, you reasoned. For you and him.
The Avengers PR had pushed for a fix-it, publishing a story that spoke a truth. ‘Just Friends: Romantic Allegations Proved False’. Steve had hoped you’d seen it.
He called you every day but found himself blocked from everything. He still tried, hoping you’d come around one day. He came by The Sleeping Cat every other day, sitting in the same spot, hoping to catch you.
But you never came.
You clasped the necklace in place, admiring how it sat on your clavicle through the mirror. You took a step back and took yourself in, smiling at what you saw. It didn’t reach your eyes.
Today was the day of the Valentines gala and you weren’t feeling particularly giddy about it.
Opening your phone, you stared at the one contact that stood out, finger hovering over his name. That name used to give you so many feelings, but today it was a reminder that you were going alone, again.
Sighing, you threw it in your purse and left. Another lonely night, and on an even celebrating love.
Days turned into weeks, and soon, before he knew it, the day of your Valentines gala arrived.
Steve stared at the calendar. The heart-shaped doodle he drew called out to him, reminding him of fond memories. Fond memories that seemed like a distant dream. But then, he went back to last week, and it all came crashing.
He had hurt you. While thinking he was protecting you, he hadn’t realized he was inadvertently pushing you away. He had no one to blame but himself.
He loved you. No, still loves you. You grounded him, gave him the normalcy that he craved. Reminded him of a distant time before he was Captain America.
You made him feel like the boy from Brooklyn again.
While he was ruminating in his feelings, Steve was caught off-guard when the door burst open with Tony Stark coming through. From his peripheral, he could see Bucky and Sam peeking through the frame.
“Heard from the Manchurian Candidate that someone has a case of the achy breaky heart,” Tony said, smug.
“Leave me alone, Tony. I’m not in the mood,” he grumbled, setting down the calendar.
“And leave you wallowing like shit while your girl is out there probably equally miserable? I know a thing or two about women, Rogers, and it’s that they don’t like to be kept waiting.”
Tony snapped his fingers and from behind, Sam came in with a tuxedo in hand.
“Thought you might need this,” Sam said.
Bucky came out behind him, with a brush and can of hairspray. “And I still know how to do hair.”
“And I have friends in places,” Tony quipped. “I can get you in.”
Steve was surprised. His friends had surprised him. You would’ve loved them. He was left speechless.
“What are you waiting for, Cap? Suit up.” Tony winked.
Swirling the glass of rosé, your gaze fell towards the dance floor. An upbeat song was being played as people flocked near the middle, letting their bodies take charge for the night. You saw your former co-workers among the throng, hands thrown around their significant others, having the time of their lives.
The gala was in full swing, if the crowd and chatter was any indication. Red and roses were the main theme, with a red carpet stretching from the grand staircase towards the main hall and roses lining every corner and wall. Taking it all in, you were proud to see your ideas visualized and work came to fruition.
You sipped your rosé, enjoying every bit of the gala as you could. From the sidelines, you spoke with a few potential clients and art collectors. Their presence made you feel your importance, and if you dared say it, a little less lonely.
It was during one of your little chats that you didn’t realize when the hall suddenly fell quiet. You turned around when you felt a tap on your shoulder.
“Hi folks, mind if I crash your party?”
Steve smiled at Tony’s antics. They both had arrived at the gallery dressed in their best, and with Tony’s connections, they were granted access.
Stepping down the grand staircase, Steve felt all eyes on him. He paid them no mind, the thought of you the only occupant of his racing mind. Gazing over the crowd, Steve spotted you to the side, occupied in a chatter.
Taking deliberate steps, Steve soon found himself behind you. He admired your gown and hair, it entranced him. You still hadn’t registered his presence, even when your partner had ceased chatting and was now staring at him.
With a tap on your shoulder, he was taken away as immediately as you spun around. Steve took in your whole image; your dolled-up face, your intricate dress, your styled hair. It left him floored.
You always did manage to take his breath away. Was this what he had been missing out all this time?
Taking your unoccupied hand, Steve pressed a small kiss before meeting your eyes.
“May I have this dance?”
Giving away your drink, you took his hand as he pulled your towards the centre, taking space among the crowd. A slow number started, and before you realized, you were swept in a slow dance. It didn’t take long before you felt the sensation of his two left feet.
“Sorry, a hundred years and you’d think I’d know how to dance,” he said.
A small smile lightened your face. Steve savoured it all he could. Gulping, he took the first step.
“I’m... sorry for what I’ve done. I realize now that you were right,” he started. “I thought I was protecting you, but now I see that all it did was push you away. You have all the rights to be mad at me. I was being an idiot, a selfish one. I didn’t think about how you felt about it.”
You winced. Steve had stepped on your toes again. He murmured an apology, resorting to swaying instead.
“Can we start again? No more hiding. No more disguises,” he breathed, keeping his eyes locked on yours. “ We can meet your friends, you can meet mine. Bucky’s been pestering me to bring you to the compound, he wants to meet you.”
You laughed. How Steve had missed the tune.
“How can I make it up to you? How do you want to take the first step? A picnic at Central Park? Dinner at the compound? A trip to the beach?”
You seemed to contemplate, a thoughtful look on your face. You both failed to realize all the eyes on you two.
“How about now?”
“Right here? Right now?” he asked.
“Yes, right here, right now,” you said, determined.
Without hesitation —no more— Steve dived in, planting a kiss on your wine-coloured lips for the whole world to see. Your first kiss in public, yet it felt as if it was only the two of you there, lost in the moment.
You both didn’t notice the gasping crowd nor the clicks of cameras from photographers nor the booming laughter of Tony Stark. You both only felt the other in your orbit, and that was all that mattered.
“Can you put that down? You’ve been staring at it for the past hour.”
You pouted, setting the frame on the side table, where it has been designated since its publication.
“I can’t help it, I think it’s a good shot. Don’t you think so, Alpine?” you petted the snowy white cat lazing on the arm of the sofa. Its’ purrs intensified.
“Dinner’s ready!” Bucky shouted.
You and Steve left the room, joining the others in the dining room for dinner. On the side table, the framed article sat neatly, showcasing the tale of the famed occurrence that took place at a charity gala.
‘America’s Girl: The Modern Woman of The Captain’s Dreams.’
Fin.
#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x you#steve rogers x y/n#steve rogers imagine#steve rogers fanfiction#fluff#angst#steve rogers fluff#steve rogers angst#happyhoelentinesday2021
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Take care of you.
Prompt: it's your husband's first long travel since your wedding. You both just can't wait to see each other again.
Warnings: teasing, unprotected sex, breeding kink all over it, daddy kink, a bit of size kink maybe, 2 smuts in one, degradating and praising, multiple orgasms, overestimation.… I know, but its still fluffy, I swear
Fluffy warnings: Jake wearing THAT^ outfit. You washing his long hair. Like... him loving his wifey sm.... I'm unstable
Like 3k words.
---
You were living a never ending honeymoon. Even after you and Jake came back home from your official one, nothing changed. Still had that same sweet energy.
And that only made it even harder when he had to say goodbye. Yeah, it was only for a month, and he definitely had been away for longer periods of time, but right now… it was painful because you both had to admit to yourselves that your honeymoon was over and real life started.
You missed each other so badly. You cried on the phone more than once. But you knew he loved his job. And you loved to support him.
Felt like it took ages, but the day of his return finally came. You barely slept the night before it. You missed his sleepy voice in the morning. His jokes and his weird behavior, cause he just felt so comfortable around you. And you obviously missed the fact that everything always turned into sex these days. Wherever you looked at in that house, Jake had already fucked you there. Your heart craved his presence and your body craved his touch. You didn't even know which one was more urgent... all you knew was that it all together was making you desperate.
---
Jake felt the same way. He wanted to hug you and he wanted to shove his cock inside you so bad, all at once. He texted you from the taxi, saying he was 20 minutes away.
'I can't wait, tell the driver to hurry up, please.' You texted him back.
As a reply, all you got was a pic of the bulge in his pants. You shivered. You couldn't believe that would be inside you in a few minutes. You decided to tease him back:
'If you're already that hard, imagine how you'll feel when you see how fucking wet I am right now. So much, daddy… it's running down my thighs, I swear… need you here quickly, I promised you I wouldn't touch myself, but...'
He groaned frustratedly and decided to stay off his phone for now. You were already making him throb painfully, and he knew pretty well how wild the teasing could get between the two of you.
---
He planned on fucking you hard even before he opened the front door and found you in nothing but his shirt.
I said nothing.
You knew he was coming and there was no time to waste, so…
You ran towards the door for a hug that quickly became a messy kiss. His hands were everywhere, like he was trying to find out if you were real. The truth was that he just didn't know where to touch you first.
Jake pinned you against the wall and you grinded his thigh while he was unzipping his pants, whining loudly cause you were desperate like that.
He grabbed your waist and lifted you a little, so you automatically wrapped your legs around his hips and your arms around his neck. You pulled him as close as possible and all you felt was him. His warm embrace, his soft lips on your neck...
He held you against the wall with one hand while he grabbed his cock with the other
He shoved it at once inside you, groaning wild and loudly.
Your face couldn't hide the pain as he started thrusting mercilessly the second his was in.
"What is that, babygirl?" He cooed, and his sweet voice didn't match the eagerness of his hips. "Did you forget how it feels to have daddy inside you? Forget how big I am? Well, I'm back now, so I gotta stretch this tight little pussy open for me again."
You couldn't say anything, all you could do was take every single thing he gave you.
The way his body was pressed against yours made it impossible for him to avoid brushing your clit with his lower abdomen.
"Jake, I'm gonna cum." You told him desperately. You didn't want to do it so fast, but it was impossible to hold it at that point.
"Yes, pretty girl, as loud as you can, I missed hearing you crying out my name…"
Your fingers wrapped around his hair, that was a messy bun at this point, and you came, screaming his name, hoping it would make him cum too.
But not so soon.
Your orgasm only made him want you more. Only made him harder, if that was even possible.
And he didn't give you a second to recover, he kept fucking you like nothing happened, maybe even harder than before.
Your clit was hurting from overestimation, your hips bucked trying to escape the constant pressure, your legs were shaking so much around his body. It felt so good that you had to beg him to stop, you couldn't take all of it.
"Cum inside me, daddy, please, give me your… fuck." You felt the tears in the corner of your eyes as your second orgasm approached.
"My what? You weren't going to say cum, were you, princess?" He smirked. "You were gonna say babies, you want me to knock you the fuck up, huh?"
You weren't even sure what you wanted anymore, but you nodded, moaning loudly as he pounded you through your orgasm.
"I barely came home and you're already begging for my children again, you little slut." He mocked you, but you could tell he was getting close. His movements became messier.
And like he wasn't already absolutely abusing your clit and saying things that could make you cum untouched, he just started hitting that special place inside you that made you dumb for him.
He used all the strength he had left to thrust DEEP and HARD inside you one last time.
Maybe you came for the third time, but you weren't even sure anymore. All you knew was that it was lot.
It was so relieving when his hips stopped and you felt his warm seed filling you up. Fuck, there was SO MUCH of it, it had been so long… you didn't remember ever feeling that full before.
But when he was done, he cursed himself for not doing that in bed, cause he was exhausted on a level that he could barely stand. His legs were weak and he was still buried inside you, his arms on each side of your head on the wall, supporting his weight.
Fuck it, he knew there was no time to get in bed. His cock was too hard, his balls were too full and you looked too hot with his shirt barely hiding the fact that your pussy was free for him to use.
And you were absolutely wrecked. Your pussy was so sore that you were afraid to touch it, even to remove his cock from you.
Maybe it was the post orgasmic bliss, mixed with the feeling or being so close after being separated for so long… but the energy of that moment was unmatched. Unexplainable. You both were feeling that way, and somehow you knew it.
But after Jake caught his breath, he removed himself from you, helping you stand on your feet again, but he still kept one hand on the wall to support his own weight, just in case.
"Babe…" You laughed. "Look at how exhausted you are, it's almost heartbreaking."
He sent you a tired smile.
"Come on, I'll run you a bath, what do you think?" You suggested, kissing his cheek.
"Sounds wonderful." He agreed. "As long as you join me."
"Jacob, you can barely stand, how are you still horny?" You rolled your eyes.
"Didn't mean that." He chuckled. "Just wanna stay close to you. Missed you, baby."
"Missed you too." He brought you for a tight hug and you melted in his arms.
---
When the two of you managed to get upstairs, Jake sat in bed as you prepared the bath.
You walked into the room and found him going through his phone.
"Sorry." He said, without looking at you. "I'll be there in a minute, I'll just…"
When you approached him and realized he was working, you sighed and grabbed his phone.
He looked at you with a confused expression.
"Enough work." You sent him a sad look. "Work kept you away from me for WEEKS. Now it's all about us. Let me take good care of my husband, just for today?"
He couldn't resist you. Anything you asked, the answer was always yes. Specially in this occasion, when there was absolutely nothing he would rather do than spend time with you.
You grabbed his hand and guided him to the bathroom.
He removed his clothes and sat on the warm bubble bath
You only had his old shirt on, so you were able to do the same and join him in a second.
The kind of non sexual intimacy of your naked bodies touching was so relaxing. Jake walked into the house almost an hour ago, but nothing made him feel at home quite like that exact moment.
He closed his eyes for a moment. Just to enjoy the warmth from the water. To wrap his arms around you and feel like the happiest man alive.
But, suddenly, his peace was interrupted by the sound of the water moving and the loss of contact with your body.
You turned around and now sat down facing him.
Watching him with a sweet smile on your face.
You bit your lip and placed your hand on the back of his head, gently undoing the bun his hair was in.
"What are you doing?" He chuckled. "I thought this whole thing about you being eager to have a baby was only kinky stuff, honey. I know how to take a bath."
"Shut up." You laughed, taking a hand full of water to the back of his head, wetting his hair. "I'm just taking care of my husband."
He didn't say or do anything to stop you. So you grabbed the shampoo bottle and applied a little on your hand, proceeding to massage his scalp very gently with the tip of your fingers.
He closed his eyes and relaxed again as you finished washing his hair. You took your time and enjoyed the moment. Jake's hair was soft and he looked absolutely breathtaking like that. Relaxed. Humming softly. His wet golden chain caught your eyes as you watched his chest going up and down slowly. So beautiful. Beautiful couldn't even describe it…
"I love you." You whispered to him.
He smiled and opened his eyes. "I love you too. So much that sometimes I just can't believe you're my wife. Just too good to be truth."
You smiled like a fool and wished that moment could last forever. But the water was getting cold. So you stood up and wrapped a towel around your body.
"Where are you going?" He protested.
"Come on, let's put some clean clothes on, I miss movie night and cuddles on the sofa." You suggested.
---
Jake was sitting on the sofa in his grey sweatpants and sweatshirt. You always told him that was his softest outfit and it was just perfect for cuddling. Heaven couldn't compare to that feeling... your head resting on his chest, his arms wrapped around you.
The tv was only background noise, cause he was actually looking at you. When you felt his gaze, you looked back at him, your eyebrows furrowed.
"What?" You asked. "Jesus, looks like you haven't seen me in like... a month?"
"I could spend my whole life looking at you and I still wouldn't have enough." He said, caressing your cheek with two fingers.
You stood like that for a while, looking at each other's eyes while he stroked your cheeks softly. Then his fingers started to move down to your chin. Then to your lips. You parted them a bit and Jake slid his fingers inside your mouth slowly.
You nibbled them gently with your front teeth until he moved them deeper inside your mouth, placing them on your tongue. He started moving them in lazy circles. All without losing eye contact. It was so intense that you left out a moan without even noticing it.
"What's on your mind, babygirl?" He smiled.
You grabbed his wrist and removed his fingers from your mouth, sucking them on the process.
"What you said earlier in the bathroom." You admitted. "And by the front door too. Thinking about you getting me pregnant, wouldn't that be nice?"
"Fuck, y/n..." He smirked. "Is this still only kinky stuff?"
"Yeah, for now it is." You said, straddling his lap. "Just wanna make you hard. Be the only one who gets to call you daddy just for now."
Those sweatpants weren't only good for cuddling. It was also amazing to feel his hard cock through them.
"Yes, pretty girl, I love it when you call me daddy." He kissed you passionately, while his hands traveled your body, ending up on your clothed core. His fingers barely brushed your clit through your panties and you left out a little "ouch".
"You still didn't even recover from how good I fucked you last time and you already want more, my greedy little slut." He chuckled.
"Yeah, I fucking missed you." You shrugged. "And we're not gonna fuck again, we're gonna make love now."
"Who said that?" He raised his eyebrows. "What if I want to fuck you?"
His fingers insisted on touching your clit until you started getting used to it.
"Be gentle with me, daddy, please." You begged. "Need your love, not just your cock."
If he wasn't convinced already, the way you asked made him change his mind.
"Okay, baby." He pulled his pants down and grabbed his cock, beautiful hard again. "Why don't you ride me nice and slow, then?"
You nodded, raising your hips a little, so he could help you remove your panties. He tossed them on the floor and his fingers went back to your core, spreading your folds and running his fingers through them until you were wet enough. He slid two fingers inside you and you started rocking your hips softly. He removed his fingers from you too suddenly, and your pussy automatically clenched around nothing.
You sent him a pleading look, but he was too busy licking his fingers. You waited. But your suffering didn't last very long, he quickly grabbed his cock and gave it a few strokes before aligning it with your pussy. He held it dangerously close and teased your entrance a bit. When the head was in, he left you do the job.
You lowered yourself on his cock slowly. Inch by inch like you didnt want to miss a single detail, a single vein. Your tight hole embraced all of his thick length. The last time he stretched you up wasn't that long ago, but you still needed to adjust to his size. You held on to his hair, that was still wet, and started moving your hips.
"Just ike that, my angel." He whispered, placing his hands on your hips and guiding them up and down slowly. "Nice and slow, good girl."
You managed to keep that slow sensual pace with him praising you and telling you that you were the love of his life every 10 seconds. But only until he was getting close. His words turned into incoherent moans and his fingers digged into your hips, which you understood as a sign to go a little faster.
Your 4th release that night was approaching. You felt like you would fall apart when you reached it, but you still needed it. After all… what's the problem of falling apart when you're in your lover's arms?
You two came almost at the same time. You were connected just like that. He held your body close and you fell on his chest, completely weak. But, one more time, Heaven couldn't compare. Sitting on his lap, his cock still inside you, after barely coming down from your high. Your head resting on his chest, on his soft sweatshirt, his cologne mixed with the smell of sex in the air.
He didn't want to leave that place. Didn't matter if it would be for a month again, of even for a second. He was fully aware at that moment that you were the most important thing in his life.
He gently removed you from his lap, placing you on the sofa, and fixed his clothes before standing up. You were absolutely exhausted and didn't move a muscle, just sat on the sofa on the exact same position he left you. He chuckled and leaned close to you, placing one arm on your back and the other under your legs. Your arms automatically wrapped around his shoulders and he picked you up.
"What are you doing?" You yawned and rested your head on his shoulder.
"It's my turn now." He smiled and kissed your forehead. "I'm taking care of my wife."
#jake gyllenhaal#jake gyllenhaal x reader#jake gyllenhaal x you#jake gyllenhaal smut#jake gyllenhaal fanfic#jake gyllenhaal x y/n#jake gyllenhaal imagine
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Learning to deal with emotionally crippling pain
For @codywanweek 2021 Day 2: AU (Modern University AU.)
You can also read this fic here on A03.
(The title of the fic will make sense after reading the fic.)
This is set at Manchester Metropolitan University in the UK, where I went to uni. As I wanted to combine the uni I loved going to with one of my favourite ships.
No major warnings, but there is a slight, non-graphic, description of how bodies were buried during the Black Death (this may seem very random, but I don’t want to gross anyone out.)
(I was inspired by @catawampuscorner drawing adorable baby clones in animal onesies, the cuteness now lives rent free in my brain and my brain desperately wanted to add baby clones and baby Jedi in animal onesies to this fic due to their wonderful drawings of the baby clones. So, I have referenced codywan and some other clones being youngsters in animal onesies near the end of this fic.)
Also Wolffe and Fox are twins because I thought of the idea about a month ago and loved it so much.
Cody hefted his kit bag onto his shoulder and nodded in thanks to the bus driver as he stepped off the bus on Oxford Road. He turned hearing a loud thump and rolled his eyes, Fives had, against Cody’s and Rex’s advice, decided to sit on the top deck of the double-decker bus while carrying his heavy rugby kit bag. Unsurprisingly Fives stumbled and hit the wall of the stairs as he tried to walk down the steep steps, his bag over balancing him. Rex threw out an arm to steady their younger brother and then the two of them joined Cody on the pavement.
“We did warn you,” stated Rex with a roll of his eyes.
“Whatever,” griped Fives. Without another word, Fives was walking through All Saints Park, no doubt heading back to the student halls where he shared a flat with his twin Echo and six other first year students.
“I really hope Echo is better soon. I don’t know how much longer I can take Fives in this mood,” sighed Rex shaking his head.
“You and me both,” agreed Cody with a nod of his head at his younger brother.
Cody was the eldest of the four brothers, and was currently in his third and final year of studying his undergraduate history degree at Manchester Metropolitan University. Rex was eleven months younger than him and was in his second year studying law, Echo and Fives were their younger brothers who were twins. The family hadn’t thought that Fives was interested in going to university, which was fine with them as they didn’t want to push him into something he didn’t want. But when Echo announced his intention of going to study mathematics at the same university where Cody and Rex were studying, Fives suddenly announced that he was also going to Man Met to study physiotherapy. The twins were in their first year and two years ago, at eighteen, Cody had thought he would be getting some peace from his three younger brothers, in the end he only got one year of peace before his brothers joined him in quick succession. But thankfully he only had to put up with living with them when they were all home for the holidays. As Cody shared a one-bedroom flat with his long-term boyfriend Obi-Wan who had also chosen to study at Man Met, also in his third year, studying English literature. Obi-Wan and Cody had been best friends since their first day at primary school aged four, later confessing their romantic feelings for each other when they were sixteen, both coming down from the stress of getting their GCSE results. They hadn’t actually told each other where they were applying for university, not wanting to influence each other’s decision. But they still ended up at the same university anyway, not that Cody was complaining.
Like Cody, Obi-Wan had not been able to escape his younger brother. Anakin was friends with Fives and Echo as they were the same age, Anakin was in his first year studying engineering at Man Met. It was funny to Cody, because Echo and Anakin’s subjects were in the same faculty, they often saw each other as their lectures and seminars took place in the John Dalton buildings, whereas Fives went to lectures across the main road on the slightly smaller campus in the Brooks Building. Fives had always been protective of Echo, his reasoning being he was the older twin so had to look out for Echo. But after Echo got hurt in a car accident when they were fifteen driving home with their dad, Fives had grown even more protective, somehow blaming himself because he wasn’t there in the car with Echo. The youngest of the four brothers hadn’t been seriously hurt, but the accident had gained him a constant shadow. So, when the twins applied to the university, they looked at the map of the two campuses and picked Oxford Court for their student halls accommodation because it was pretty much in the middle of where the two of them would have their lectures and seminars.
With another look in the direction Fives had gone, feeling a rare moment of relief at seeing his brother walk away. Cody loved his brothers, but because Echo had gotten injured in their last rugby game, he couldn’t take part in practice and it had left Fives in a mood for the past week. Neither Echo, Cody or Rex could seem to talk Fives out of his mood, leading to Cody thinking he may have to call their parents to talk some sense into Fives. But he didn’t want to worry his mum, which is what would happen if Cody had to tell her Fives still wasn’t okay a week after Echo badly spraining his ankle. So, Cody’s only other option would be to call his twin cousins, Wolffe and Fox who were both in their third and final years of studying at the same university in London. Wolffe was studying sport science, while Fox was studying history like Cody, but with more of a focus on medical history while Cody preferred military history.
Wolffe and Fox were the closest cousins Cody and his brothers had, due to their parents all moving to Britain from New Zealand due to his father and uncle getting jobs with the same tech company before Cody, Wolffe and Fox were born. Leaving the rest of the aunts, uncles and cousins back in New Zealand with their grandparents. Cody then reflected, calling the other twins might not be a bad idea. Wolffe would be gruff but caring in talking to Fives and if that failed, Fox would just beat sense into him either verbally or physically. With there being direct trains from London to Manchester, Cody wouldn’t be surprised if Fox came in person to beat some sense into Fives. Fox had no patience for Fives’ protective older brother routine of Echo and that was down to Wolffe being protective of Fox. Which he hated, but to be fair to Wolffe, he was fully justified going by the amount of coffee and lack of sleep Fox was powering through to work on his assignments and dissertation. Despite the fact it was still January and Fox had three months left until he had to hand in his dissertation.
Thinking of dissertations, Cody waved goodbye to Rex and headed towards the cafeteria in the Business School building to get some tea for his boyfriend. Once he acquired the tea in a take away cup, he went next door to the library where Obi-Wan was working on his dissertation, thankful that their university library allowed food and drink as long as it was silent. Fox was insanely jealous as his university library forbade any food or drink to enter the building, meaning Fox was deprived of his precious coffee. Which was why Wolffe pushed Fox to work in the library as often as he could. Cody didn’t mind plying Obi-Wan with tea, because while he could say Obi-Wan was additive to his tea, he didn’t drink any caffeinated tea two hours before going to bed, unlike Fox who was known to drink a mug of coffee before going to bed if Wolffe hadn’t managed to stop him. It was a wonder Wolffe hadn’t gone grey with the amount of time he spent worrying over his twin brother.
Cody scanned his student card to let him past the barriers and started walking up the two flights of stairs to the floor Obi-Wan liked to work on. The library was massive, with its different wings and five floors, but Cody was glad it was so big because it could be divided into silent study areas and group study areas, where you could talk so long as you were quiet. Obi-Wan, like Cody, hated working in complete silence and in their first year they found a nook between some shelves that had a table where they could bring their own laptops to work on their essays together. But were conveniently close to university computers so they could log on to print their work if needed. It was also a space their brothers had been unable to find them in, although Cody was fairly certain Rex knew where he liked to work, but was kind enough to leave him alone. Anakin, Echo and Fives would not be as considerate.
He walked through the doors into the study area and walked halfway into the big room with its rows of computers and shelves of books, until he found Obi-Wan hunched over his notes and two books he was using for his dissertation. Cody silently reminded himself that he was due to meet with his dissertation supervisor tomorrow to check the progress on his second chapter. He placed the cup of tea on the table beside Obi-Wan’s laptop and pressed a kiss onto the mess of copper hair, noting that his boyfriend hadn’t shaved again, making him wonder if Obi-Wan was committing to growing a beard. If he did, it would be because Obi-Wan was fed up of people thinking he was sixteen or seventeen, rather than being almost twenty-one years old, something that delighted Anakin to no end. Obi-Wan slowly sat up and blinked owlishly at him and rubbed a hand over his face. “Rugby practice is over already?” he asked in confusion as he looked at his watch.
Cody snorted in amusement, “thankfully yes.” Obi-Wan had come to the library just after Cody left their flat for practice, that had been two and half hours ago.
Obi-Wan reached for his tea and sighed in pleasure when he sipped on the hot liquid. “Fives still in a mood then?”
“Yes,” he sighed in exasperation as he sat down beside Obi-Wan and putting his kit bag on the floor with a roll of his shoulder.
Raising a knowing eyebrow over the rim of his cup, Obi-Wan asked. “Are you going to call Wolffe and Fox?” Cody nodded in agreement, smiling to himself, happy at how easily Obi-Wan fit into his family. Obi-Wan, Cody, Wolffe and Fox had all gone through school together. Obi-Wan and Anakin’s dad, Qui-Gon, was a friend of Cody’s parents and often came over for dinner. According to his dad, Cody’s mum and Qui-Gon had been having wine nights when they lamented over their empty nests and how it was unfair how quickly their children were growing up. While Cody’s aunt just laughed at them because Wolffe and Fox had left home for university almost three years before.
They lapsed into silence, and Cody just let himself day dream as he listened to the clack of Obi-Wan’s keyboard. He also ran through a mental list of things he needed to do for his dissertation and thought he could do with another trip down to London to go to the National Archives again for some more primary sources. His phone buzzed and Cody snorted at the text message from Echo.
[Echo] Fives is in SUCH a bad mood! Please help me!
[Cody] Sorry Echo. Rex and I had him for two hours, we need a break.
[Echo] WORST BIG BROTHERS EVER!!!!
[Echo] I hope you marry Obi-Wan so I can adopt him as my favourite older brother.
[Echo] You know what. I’m not waiting until you marry him. He’s my favourite brother now.
Cody chuckled to himself, he couldn’t argue with Echo, Obi-Wan was his favourite person too.
[Cody] What WILL Fives say?
[Echo] Right now I don’t care. He’s driving me INSANE!!!!
[Cody] I was going to call Wolffe and Fox to see if they could help.
[Echo] PLEASE!!! I am BEGGING YOU!!!!
[Echo] You know what?
[Echo] Just skip straight to Fox.
[Echo] And record it. I want to relive that future moment for forever. Fox’s position as my favourite cousin will be secured.
Cody snorted in amusement again, Obi-Wan turned to him in question. So, Cody just showed him the messages and Obi-Wan shook his head in amusement, but he blushed slightly. No doubt due to Echo’s comments on Cody marrying Obi-Wan.
“Echo wishing harm on Fives. I never thought I’d see the day,” commented Obi-Wan, his blue eyes sparkling with laughter. No doubt remembering the times Fox lost his patience with bullies and idiots they went to school with and just went for them. Their aunt had to give Fox the disapproving lecture, but she also slipped Fox money for standing up to bullies for other kids. So, Fox’s handling of bullies and idiots had never been stopped, only been encouraged.
“Oh, Echo can be pushed to it,” chuckled Cody, recalling the few times Fives had made Echo lose his temper. Echo was a nice and quiet person, which also made him one of those people you did not want to make angry, because when his patience snapped. It snapped. He could be worse than Fox, and that said something.
“By the way, your dad text me. He’s invited me to a family reunion dinner in a month’s time. So, is anyone coming over from New Zealand?” Obi-Wan asked as he started to tidy his books away and turn off his laptop.
Cody nodded. “My grandparents are coming over in three weeks and are staying until the summer as they want to be here for mine, Wolffe and Fox’s graduations. Then a few of the cousins are coming over in the summer.” He smiled to himself; it would be nice to see his family members again. They all saw each other every year, one year Cody and his family would fly out to New Zealand and the next year the family would fly over to Britain for a few weeks. With all of the cousins now at university, it made sorting out reunions easier due to the longer holidays they all had.
Obi-Wan’s eyes sparkled with amusement again, “anymore family arguments to look forward to?” he laughed.
“Probably,” Cody sighed as he rolled his eyes. Obi-Wan had come out to New Zealand with him last summer and witnessed some truly spectacular family arguments and rather silly ones as well. The most prominent being about Fox and Echo’s names.
When Fox had been a toddler, he and Wolffe had been put into animal onesies (Cody and his brothers also shared that misfortune with their cousins, but the less said about that the better), Wolffe into a wolf onesie and Fox into a fox onesie. Ever since Fox wanted to be called Fox, as he hated his proper name, the name being Frederick. If anyone ever called him Frederick when he was a small child he bit them, leading to his parents to tell their school when they started that it would be best if they didn’t call Fox Frederick for the safety of their own fingers.
Then when Echo had been four and in school, learning about words that began with the letter E, he heard the word Echo and wanted to call himself that, because he didn’t like being called Eli. Cody’s mum had tried to tell Echo his name was Eli, but Echo said Fox picked his name, so why couldn’t he? Cody’s mum tried her hardest to get Echo to forget about calling himself Echo, seeing as he was named after his mum’s father-in-law Elias and didn’t want to offend him. But Echo just started repeating everything everyone said, until the point their dad begged their mum to just let Echo call himself Echo. Fives didn’t want to be left out, and chose the nickname Fives, but he wasn’t involved in the arguments because he let their grandmother still call him Felix. Echo and Fox on the other hand, both refused to answer to their given names. And Obi-Wan had witnessed their grandmother once again getting annoyed when Echo and Fox didn’t answer her when she called them Eli and Frederick. That was also the visit where Obi-Wan learnt just who Echo and Fox inherited their stubbornness from. Grandpa Elias was not offended and found the whole thing hilarious and continued to congratulate Echo on his name every time he saw Echo. Cody was also convinced, his grandmother only continued the argument for the sake of it, he had seen her handwriting in birthday cards calling Echo and Fox by their chosen names. But she still wrote Eli and Frederick on family Christmas cards, again probably just for the drama.
But some uncles and aunts were not happy with Echo and Fox changing their names, albeit not legally, because other cousins began following their lead. Namely their four cousins who were all siblings (two sets of twins), Hunter, Crosshair, Wrecker and Tech. The four of them changing their names and even happily calling themselves the Bad Batch at family gatherings much to the ire of their mother. Fives was blamed for their collective nickname, as Obi-Wan found out and thought it was hilarious. The Bad Batch had invited Echo to play with them when they were small, and Fives who had not been invited to play had been jealous and called them the Bad Batch, the four of them had loved it and adopted it as their group name.
Obi-Wan started to laugh quietly to himself as he put his laptop away in his bag. At Cody’s questioning look he smiled and said. “I’m just wondering who will be the first to say something to disrupt family dinner. Either you, your brothers or your cousins will say something. You have done ever since the first family dinner I was invited to when I was five.”
Cody smirked to himself and nodded, “honestly I’m expecting it to be Fox again. You know he deals with stress in the weirdest ways.”
“You mean like putting everyone else off their food?” teased Obi-Wan, his eyes glinting at the memory of the last dinner everyone had together.
Over the four-week long Christmas holiday, Cody’s parents had hosted numerous family dinners, wanting to spend as much time together as possible. As it was understood with Cody, Obi-Wan, Wolffe and Fox graduating university later that year, they may not get to come home as often anymore. Also, as Cody’s uncle and aunt lived next door to them and Obi-Wan lived five houses further down the road, it was very easy for Cody’s uncle and aunt, Wolffe, Fox, Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon and Anakin to join their family for dinner. Which also meant, Cody and Obi-Wan had to suffer the embarrassment of watching Qui-Gon and Cody’s mum tearfully looking at photos of them growing up, mourning the loss of their ‘little ones’. While Cody’s aunt sipped on her glass of red wine and cackled at them, saying it was better to have both her kids leave the nest at once, as she didn’t have to go through kids moving out more than once.
Cody had also been horrified to learn there existed a photo of him in an animal onesie after all, and to make it worse, he was four in the photo. He was at school, but because his mum wanted a picture of all her boys in their animal onesies, he had been put into his old lion onesie (mane included on the hood) that was getting too small for him. But it had interested him to see it was a group photo of all of them sat on the living room floor. Obi-Wan was also in the photo, in a onesie that resembled the fictional varactyl creature he had been obsessed with when he was four. His unimpressed look matching Cody’s, in the photo both of them had their arms crossed as they glared at their parents off camera. Wolffe and Fox were also in the photo, but too busy pulling on each other’s hoods, Wolffe almost taking off one of Fox’s onesie’s ears. Rex, at three, was happily beaming at their mum in his elephant onesie that included a small trunk attached to the hood. Leaning against Rex on his left was Anakin, who at two, was too busy trying to eat his own foot as he sat in his dog onesie. On Rex’s right was the little twins, Echo beaming at the camera in his giraffe onesie as he lifted a hand up to squeeze the felt face of the giraffe attached to the hood and Fives, in a moose onesie (seriously where had his parents found these?), was busy trying to grab one of his felt antlers and eat it. Apparently, their parents had kept all of the onesies, what they planned to do with them Cody couldn’t guess.
But while the onesie group photo had been embarrassing, it hadn’t put anyone off their food. No, that came when Cody’s dad asked all of them how university was going. Everyone listened as one by one, all the boys explained what they had been doing. The adults patiently listened as Cody, Obi-Wan, Wolffe and Fox talked about their dissertations and skilfully manoeuvring the conversation so as to avoid third year meltdowns as the families had taken to calling their tearful, stressed rants. While Rex, Anakin, Fives and Echo stared at them in dawning horror as they realised what was in their immediate future. Fox had given Cody advice on where to find primary sources, as Fox was writing his ten-thousand-word dissertation on the Black Death and at this point, was basically an expert on where to find medical documents from varying time periods. Which was immensely helpful for Cody because his dissertation was on the treatment of shell shock in the First World War.
Dinner seemed to then settle, with all the boys commenting on funny or interesting things they had heard at university. When Fox piped up, “I was reading a chapter for my dissertation when the author commented that they buried people who had died of the Black Death by lying down a layer of bodies, then a layer of soil, another layer of bodies, more soil, more bodies and then the final layer of soil. It was interesting that the author used the analogy of the bodies been buried like how you make a lasagne.”
Everyone stopped, many of the people gathered around the table stared at Fox, with forks paused in the air. Fox, oblivious continued to eat his dinner with a smile on his face. Which was lasagne. Wolffe just shook his head and sighed in exasperation as he stopped eating his portion of lasagne and instead reached for a piece of garlic bread. Obi-Wan, taking interest in the analogy, was asking Fox if he had come across any other analogies like it. Rex, Echo and Fives dropped their forks and looked at their food in faint disgust. Qui-Gon and Anakin, who normally didn’t find anything disgusting, looked down at the lasagne on their plates in muted horror. Cody’s parents and uncle just sighed, with his uncle massaging his forehead in exasperation, while Cody’s aunt lifted her wine glass up and saluted Fox with it before taking a sip (Fox was a lot like his mother). Cody raised an eyebrow at his cousin, Fox smirked and then reached for the serving dish in the centre of the table. “Oh, no one else wants anymore? Guess I’ll finish the lasagne up then,” Fox stated with a mock innocent look on his face. Wolffe just sighed again and thumped his head down onto the table. Leaving Cody with the impression that Fox was hungry and saw how quickly the food was disappearing and decided to take matters into his own hands.
As Cody and Obi-Wan walked out of the library holding hands, Cody turned to Obi-Wan and smirked. “It is safe to say, lasagne will not be on the menu.”
Obi-Wan laughed loudly as they made their way into the cold air outside, wrapping his scarf tighter around his neck. Obi-Wan also admitted that neither his father nor Anakin, had been able to eat lasagne since that dinner. Anakin had seen lasagne being served for lunch at the university one day and had practically fled the cafeteria.
Together they walked to the bus stop that was less than a minute walk from the library and sat in contented silence as they travelled from campus on the short bus journey to their flat. Their shoulders knocked gently together as they swayed as the bus pulled in and out of bus stops. Their hands were still clasped together, and Obi-Wan was looking out of the window with a smile on his face as he watched people go about their day. Cody found himself unable to tear his gaze away from Obi-Wan’s face, watching as his eyes crinkled as he smiled at the sight of a giggling child play peekaboo with their younger sibling. The bright winter sun turned Obi-Wan’s copper hair into flames and it was a sight that always memorised Cody without fail. It was the sight that led to four-year-old him talking to Obi-Wan on their first day at school because he had never seen someone with the same-coloured hair as Obi-Wan before. Cody only realised they had reached the bus stop they needed when Obi-Wan pressed the button to alert the driver to stop. He reached down for his kit bag and swung it up onto his shoulder, they walked off the bus, thanked the driver and continued walking while holding hands. Obi-Wan began to talk about a book he had had to read for one of his modules and while Cody never heard of the book before, he enjoyed seeing how excited Obi-Wan was about it.
Once they got inside their flat, Obi-Wan put his bag, that contained his laptop and some books, on the floor by the door and went into the kitchen. Cody watched him for a moment, glad to see Obi-Wan was distracted making them both some lunch. Cody sat at their table and turned his laptop on and logged into the website where he was creating a photobook of photos of himself and Obi-Wan throughout their lives as a birthday present. There were hundreds of photos of them together over the years they had known each other, there were photos of primary, secondary and sixth form last days. Seeing how they had changed in those years was endearing and funny at the same time. Cody caught Obi-Wan looking over at him and Cody playfully tilted his laptop screen away from Obi-Wan’s view, not that his boyfriend could see it from where he was anyway. Obi-Wan smiled and then turned back to the sandwiches he was making. Obi-Wan knew he was getting his birthday present, just as Cody was aware Obi-Wan was also organising his birthday present, as Obi-Wan’s birthday was two days before Cody’s.
Cody checked through the photobook one last time and then seeing that everything was as he wanted it, he clicked order and waited for the confirmation email to arrive. Once it had, he closed his laptop down and smiled as Obi-Wan, at that moment, walked up to him and handed him a plate with his sandwich and an apple.
“I love you,” Cody said with a smile.
Obi-Wan rolled his eyes fondly, “ah yes. You only love me for my sandwich making skills.”
“You caught me!” chuckled Cody as he held his hands up in defence. They shared a smile and then both began eating their sandwiches in earnest. They chatted about friends from home who had gone to other universities or who went into work, the friends they had made in Manchester, the antics of crazy younger brothers and they also talked about if they wanted to do a Masters degree in their subject and if they did, where should they go? As it wasn’t a question about if they would go together, even if Obi-Wan decided to do a Masters and Cody didn’t, he was still going to move to whichever city Obi-Wan chose to go to for his Masters. But Cody was also liking the idea of doing a history Masters himself. “We could go to London. Wolffe and Fox are both going to do a Masters, we could go to uni with them.”
Obi-Wan frowned at him in amusement. “I thought you loved living in Manchester.”
“I do,” agreed Cody. “But I also want some peace from my brothers.” He added with a faked whining tone.
His boyfriend chuckled and then said. “You could apply to University of Manchester. So, you can stay in the city, but be in a different university to your brothers.”
Cody rolled his eyes. “As if that would stop them just turning up on Uni of’s campus,” he grumbled under his breath. He didn’t even think moving to the moon would stop his brothers from turning up to inconvenience him.
Obi-Wan just chuckled to himself as he shook his head, having to admit that going to Uni of would not stop Rex, Fives and Echo from turning up to see Cody. Within three weeks of starting the academic year, they had already worked out what rooms Cody had his seminars in and at what time they finished, so they could stand outside and wait for him. Despite Cody never once showing them his timetable.
After lunch, Cody began looking through some books for information he could add to his dissertation, while Obi-Wan turned his laptop on to work on one of his assignments. At the sound of an exasperated sigh, Cody looked up with one raised eyebrow to find Obi-Wan glaring at his laptop screen. “Problem?” he prompted lightly.
His boyfriend rolled his eyes and stated, “I hate this. We have a dissertation and other essays we need to complete that count towards our final degree. But then we are asked to write a two-thousand-word essay on the skills we have learnt doing our English degree and how those skills can help us in the workplace. While also having to give examples of jobs that use and need those skills.” Obi-Wan growled in frustration, “it is so pointless, but we have to do it otherwise we can be penalised if we don’t. But it’s wasting our time, we have other more important things to do.”
Cody grimaced and then reached out to squeezed Obi-Wan’s hand. “I totally get your frustration. We have been asked to do the exact same thing.”
Obi-Wan just groaned and thunked his head on the table, “I hate this. This is stress I do not need.” Cody smiled to himself and with his free hand, he ran his fingers through Obi-Wan’s hair, gently scratching at his scalp with his nails.
When Obi-Wan had relaxed, Cody recalled the lecture when he had been told about the assignment and how the career’s department guest lecturer and one of his usual history lecturers asked for people to give examples of skills, they had learnt doing their degree. He must have laughed to himself, because Obi-Wan was turning his head, leaving his face resting against the table top, and gave him an unimpressed glare. “Are you laughing at my pain?”
“No,” soothed Cody, brushing the hair out of Obi-Wan’s eyes. “Just remembering what Bly said in our lecture about the skills we have learnt doing a history degree.”
“Care to share? It might help me out,” asked Obi-Wan.
Cody smirked, “we have learnt to deal with emotionally crippling pain.”
There was a pause, and then Obi-Wan was laughing, his shoulders shaking as he lifted his head up from the table and instead rested it against Cody’s shoulder. “Oh, that’s a good one. I wonder if I could get away with using it?” he mused.
“I have no idea. But like you, I am tempted to use it,” stated Cody, happy to see a bit of life back in Obi-Wan’s eyes. There was nothing more depressing that having to complete a pointless assignment when you had a hundred other things to do that actually mattered for your degree.
They made the collective decision to stop working for the rest of the day, they were both mentally tired and decided they could do with a break. So, they found a film to watch, which led to another film, which led to another, until it was time for them to eat dinner. After they had shared the cooking, eaten and then shared the washing up, they decided to have an early night. Seeing as they both had nine am lectures on campus and arranged to meet in the library afterwards before Cody’s meeting with his dissertation supervisor.
As they stretched out on their bed, Cody pulling Obi-Wan to half lay on top of him, their legs tangled together. Despite the early time of the evening, the warmth and the presence of each other led them both to become drowsy and their eyes flickered heavily.
“Good night Cody,” yawned Obi-Wan, his jaw cracking at the force of the yawn.
“G’night Obi. Love you,” Cody breathed out on a sigh, his eyes closing as he felt himself begin to drift.
“Love you Code,” mumbled Obi-Wan as he pressed his face into the crook of Cody’s neck. With his nose pressed into Obi-Wan’s hair, Cody pressed a kiss against Obi-Wan’s forehead and felt a kiss pressed against his neck in return. With a smile on his face, Cody drifted off into sleep, where university stress faded away until it captured his attention tomorrow, but for now, he was able to sleep peacefully with his boyfriend in his arms.
End note:
I would draw the photo of all the boys in their onesies, but alas I cannot draw so let the image live on in our imaginations.
Also I really enjoyed writing this AU, so if anyone wants to see more from it (including Rex, Fives, Echo, Wolffe, Fox and Anakin) let me know!
I went to Manchester Metropolitan University and as I loved it there so much, I chose to make it the setting for my AU for codywanweek. The road, buildings, halls and park are real places at the university and writing this fic has just made me want to go back there. I couldn’t come up with a degree for Cody so I just gave him my degree and dissertation focus (so yes there does exist a 10,000-word dissertation on the treatment of shell shock in WWI). At MMU we did call the University of Manchester Uni of, to differentiate between the two universities.
The Black Death lasagne analogy does actually exist in a historical book somewhere. I didn’t actually read it, but one of my flatmates in first year, who also did history, did. He was revising for one of our exams and he excitedly burst into the shared kitchen, saw me and geeked out over the funny analogy, we laughed about it, about how it was such a random analogy to use. (But after a few years I still remember it, so I guess it’s useful.) But then one of our other flatmates, who wasn’t studying history, turned around and complained at us, because she was in the process of making lasagne for her dinner. So, the reactions to Fox’s gleeful explanation of the analogy are based on truth. Our flatmate didn’t want to eat her dinner because of us. As I was writing this fic, the analogy popped back into my head and I felt it would be such a Fox thing to say.
Cody’s line of “we have learnt to deal with emotionally crippling pain” during a career’s lecture. Is something that I heard said in a career’s lecture I had to sit through in my second year. So again, something else in this fic that is based on truth.
#codywanweek2021#commander cody#obi wan kenobi#codywan#star wars fic#day 2: AU#modern university au#commander fox#commander wolffe#captain rex#arc trooper echo#arc trooper fives#anakin skywalker
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