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orchidniins · 4 months

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Serendipitous Beginnings Pt. 1 | Arthur Frederick

Summary: Y/N moves to London to pursue her dreams and reconnect with her best friend But what she doesn't expect is a cute neighbor and a new exciting chapter of her life. Pairings: ArthurTV x F!Reader Warnings: Fluff Word Count: 6.4k A/N: FIRST FIC!!!!!! I’m so down bad for Arthur and just wish there was more on tumblr about this literal walking green flag of a man. I wanted this to be a cute little fic. But I feel like I got a little carried away with the story. But I also think that I need to start somewhere. Maybe the next fics I write after this will be a little more to the point. The more I write, the better I’ll get. I'm always open to suggestions and requests. Hope you enjoy!!

Part 2

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The bustling streets of London welcome you as you step out of the taxi. Having grown up in a small town just outside of London, you’d always fantasized about what life in the big city was like. Sure, your past academic pursuits had given you the opportunity to live all across the world, but London was always the ultimate destination - the place you dreamed of settling down in.

Securing a spot in the archeology PHD program of your dreams was the culmination of years of hardwork and determination. Those late-night study sessions, caffeine-fueled cramming marathons and years spent away from home were finally paying off. It marked the beginning of an exciting new chapter.

Like clockwork, Sienna bursts out of the main entrance of the building and engulfs you in a bone-crushing hug.

Sienna and you went way back. From the eager little girl who lived next door to becoming your closest confidante, she’d been through everything with you. Despite the miles between you over the years – ever since you left for the States to pursue your bachelor's degree and she moved to London for her’s – she remained one of the few constants in your life.

Your day wasn’t complete without a minimum three-hour facetime session. So naturally, after your family, she was the first person you informed of your move. True to form, she’d already cleaned out her spare bedroom and sent you a photo of the door adorned with a makeshift sign that read "Y/N’s Bedroom." It was safe to say that you were excited to reconnect with your childhood best friend and focus on your work. Little did you know, your life was about to take an unexpected turn.

“I can’t believe you're finally here!”, Sienna exclaimed, finally letting you out of her embrace. “I can’t believe it either! I’d started to believe that you only existed on my phone screen”, you replied, pulling her into another hug, which she gladly returned.

“Come on now, we have much to catch up on”, pulling out of the embrace, Sienna grabs one of your oversized suitcases and starts lugging it into the building, you follow closely with a huge grin on your face.

As you entered the apartment, you couldn't help but admire the cozy atmosphere. Sienna always had an eclectic taste, much like yours. She was a bit of a collector and she always made sure to keep and display the souvenirs you sent her from all the museums and dig sites that you had visited and worked at.

You look to the side of the living room that was littered with boxes, “All your stuff got here a few days ago”, Sienna informs you as she shuts the door behind her.

“There should be one or two boxes coming in today that I shipped out a little later”, I mentioned, Sienna nods in understanding. “While we’re on the topic of shipping boxes, have you had a chance to send that cretin’s stuff back to him?” you ask her as you kick off your shoes and take your coat off.

“Ugh, I don’t want to talk about Joey,” Sienna groaned. “He said he’d come by to pick his stuff up later, so I’ve just left a box by the door”, she added, plopping down on the couch and signaling for you to join her. ”But what I really want to know is, how’s your love life? What happened to that guy you were talking to last month? The one from your internship?”, she asks, a curious glint in her eyes.

“Hmmm, yeah, things didn’t work out”, you drawled out. “He was really nice when it was just the two of us, and he wasn’t too bad in bed either, but once we were at our work, things got weird. He’d treat me completely different. Honestly he was a real prick," you explained, throwing an arm around her. "No more guys for me. I guess it’s just you and me, babe," you sighed, earning a laugh from her.

-------⋆✧⋆-------

The next hour or two passed in unpacking and catching up when you received a notification on your phone saying a package had been dropped off at the downstairs lobby. "The rest of my stuff just got delivered. I’m heading downstairs," you announced to Sienna, who had just ventured into the kitchen to get dinner started.

You spot the box as soon as you exit the elevator. You sign for the package at the front desk and pick up the heavy box. Perhaps thinking you could manage a nearly 40kg box full of books by yourself wasn’t the best idea after all.

Lost in the effort of balancing the hefty box, you were completely oblivious to your surroundings. As soon as you turn to head towards the elevator, you feel yourself colliding with what felt like someone's side, causing you to stumble back a step. The impact was enough to make you wince, but that was the least of your worries.

With a dreadful realization, you watch in horror as the bottom of the box gives way, sending a cascade of books tumbling onto the stranger's feet.

“Oh my god, I’m so, so sorry,” you begin to profusely apologize to the man in front of you who is now bent over, clutching his ankle. Quickly chucking the box to the side, you kneel down to inspect his foot. ”Please tell me you’re okay. I’m so sorry. I should have been paying attention,” you continue your string of apologies, hoping that the man wasn’t hurt too badly.

The man winces slightly as you examine his foot, but instantly looks down at you with a reassuring smile. "Hey, don't worry about it. I'm okay, really," he tries to assure you, trying to alleviate your guilt. His smile catches you off guard, you stay frozen for a second, momentarily captivated by his warm smile and almost sparkling brown eyes. However, you quickly shake yourself out of it, realizing that this might not be the best time.

"Liar," you retorted with a hint of skepticism, knowing very well that anyone in their right mind would have cursed you out by now.

The man furrows his eyebrows and lets out a light chuckle. "No, really, I'm okay," he insists, standing up straight to show you that he was fine. You couldn't help but exhale a sigh of relief as you fully stood up as well, grateful that your clumsiness hadn't caused any serious harm.

With a slight laugh, the man gestures towards the pile of books on the ground. "Either you have a shopping problem or you just moved in," he remarks, a playful glint in his eyes.

You laugh in response, shaking your head. "I do have a shopping problem, but this is from just having moved in. My fault for thinking I'd be able to manage," you admit sheepishly.

You bend down to reach for the box to put it back together. You're surprised when the man gets down to your level and starts helping you out.

Mumbling a small thanks, you both begin placing the books back into the reassembled box. As you do this, you take a moment to observe his face. He looks to be around your age, with messy brown hair, and honestly, he was kind of cute.

The man picks up a book titled "A History of Archaeological Thought" and reads the title out in interest, quickly flipping through the pages. “I've actually read this one," he remarks, holding up one of your books on ancient roman archeology "Found it quite interesting."

You look at him slightly surprised and say, "Oh, you have? One of my professors from uni recommended it to me. It's really fascinating."

"These are all archaeology and history textbooks," he observes, gesturing to the pile of books.

You put the last book in the box and stand up along with him, laughing slightly. "Haha, yes, some of them are old textbooks from university. The rest are just stuff I've collected over the years."

He looks at you in awe and exclaims, "You're an archaeologist? That's so cool! I've never met an archaeologist before." The sparkle in his eyes returns, and you almost feel yourself slightly melt at the sight of them. You find yourself flashing him a wide smile. There's something about the genuine curiosity and admiration in his gaze that warms your heart.

Before you can say something, your phone rings. Excusing yourself for a moment, you check your phone and see that Sienna is calling, likely worried by how long it's taken you to pick up a delivery. "Sorry, just a minute," you say to the man, turning to the side to answer your cell. He nods in understanding.

"Hey, Sienna," you answer.

"Girl, what happened? Where are you?" Sienna's voice comes through, concerned.

"Long story, but I'll be up in a minute," you assure her.

"Please, come quick. Joey just texted me; he said he'll be here in like 5 minutes to pick up his stuff and I really don't want to be alone when he gets here," Sienna explains anxiously.

"Ok, yeah, I’ll be right up" you respond, sensing the urgency in her voice.

You hang up the call, tucking your phone quickly into your back pocket, you turn back to the handsome stranger. "Sorry about that, but I actually need to go," you apologize, feeling a twinge of disappointment that your conversation was just cut short.

"Ha, don't worry about it," he reassures you with a warm smile.

You apologize again for his foot and thank him for the help. As you go to bend down to pick up the box, he beats you to it, lifting it effortlessly. "Oh, you don't have to," you insist, but he shakes his head with a small laugh.

"Don't want to risk you possibly injuring someone else," he quips playfully.

You look at him with mock hurt and reply, "Rude!" before bursting into laughter, appreciating his kindness despite what had just happened.

As he begins to walk towards the elevator, you follow suit. You suddenly realize just how warm your cheeks had gotten and you quickly fan your face to cool down before you enter the elevator. Once inside, you press the button for your floor and glance around awkwardly, unsure of what to say next. The tension is palpable, but there's also a subtle excitement lingering in the air.

Arriving at your floor, you lead the way to your new flat, with him following without hesitation. Standing outside your door, you turn to him and say, "Well, this is me. Thanks again, you really didn't have to."

He responds with a gentle smile, "Again, it wasn't a bother. I'm glad to help." He sets the box down next to your door.

You stand in silence for a moment, unsure of what to say next when it suddenly dawns on you that you didn’t know the man’s name. Just as you’re about to introduce yourself, your attention is abruptly pulled away by the sound of your name being called from a distance.

"Y/N!" You spot Sienna's nightmare of an ex strolling towards your door, and you know that if you don't go inside right away, Sienna would probably kill you.

Quickly moving to unlock your door, you turn around to the attractive man and flash him a final smile. "Well, I appreciate the help. I'll see you around," you say hastily.

"Goodbye," He replies with a nod, understanding the urgency in your departure.

With that, you pick up the box and swiftly slip into your door, the sound of it shutting behind you signaling the end of your unexpected encounter.

-------⋆✧⋆-------

A week had passed since your fateful encounter with your charming neighbor, yet his presence continued lingering in your mind, a constant reminder of your missed opportunity to exchange names. Mentally scolding yourself for the oversight, you couldn't help but replay the encounter in your head repeatedly, wishing you had seized the chance to learn more about him.

The past week kept you fairly busy, preparing for the start of term on Monday. Despite that, the thoughts of him persisted more than you'd like to admit. Each time you stepped into the elevator or the lobby of your apartment, you secretly hoped for another chance meeting. Though you were someone who always tried to look presentable when stepping out, you found yourself putting in extra effort, something that didn’t go unnoticed by your flatmate.

"This usually isn't like you. Hoping to run into someone?" Sienna teases you with a knowing smirk as you prepare for the day ahead. With an interview for a teaching assistant position in the morning, lunch plans with your future classmates and some pending errands, today was shaping up to be quite hectic.

"You know," you explain to Sienna, "I just need to meet a bunch of people today, trying to make a good first impression that's all." Sienna's excitement bubbles as she responds, "Speaking of meeting new people, we're going to a party tonight!"

Usually, you were pretty social, but with all the tasks on your list today, the only thing getting you through the day is the thought of getting home and sinking into your bed. "I have quite a long day ahead, and all I want is to rest once I'm back," you confess to Sienna. But she's the persistent type that doesn’t take no for an answer, "You're in London now. New place. New life. You need to make some new friends as well," she insists. "Come on, it'll be fun. You can meet some of my friends."

"Fine, I'll see if I'm feeling up to it once I'm back in the evening," you reluctantly agree and bid her goodbye. “Good luck on your interview!” Sienna screams as you head out the door.

-------⋆✧⋆-------

You return home to a dimly lit flat, only illuminated by the lamp next to the couch and the light emanating from Sienna’s room. You feel a wave of relief as you kick off your shoes, finally able to give your feet a break after being on them all day. You attempt to move as quietly as possible, hoping to sneak past Sienna and retreat to your bedroom for some much-needed rest. However, it seems as though she possesses some sort of mind reading ability, as she calls out to you in a sing-songy tone, "Hey Y/N… Don't even think about sneaking off. Get in here."

You weakly protest, "But…" before Sienna shuts down any objections with a firm, "No buts. Get in here." Giving up, you toss your purse and the shopping bags onto the couch and reluctantly make your way into her room.

Standing in the doorway of her bedroom, you offer a half-hearted, "You called?"

"Yes, get your cute butt in here and get ready. You can borrow one of my tops if you want," Sienna responds. Though you pout for a moment, Sienna's pointed glare leaves you with no room for argument. You finally agree, "Fine… I'll go put something on. I'll be right back." Sienna nods, continuing to put on her mascara.

Returning to your bedroom, you rummage through a box of clothes that you had yet to unpack. Finally settling on a pair of black wide-leg jeans, a black bralette, and a sheer black top to layer over it. Quickly changing, you grab your makeup bag and head back into Sienna's room.

"You look so hot! If I were a guy, I'd be all over you," she says with a wink. "I know right!" you playfully reply as you start to retouch your makeup beside her in the mirror.

As you apply a fresh coat of lipstick, you inquire, "Where is this party by the way?" Sienna responds, "Oh, it's right upstairs. It's a house party at my friend George’s place."

"Cool, but I don't want to stay too long. I actually feel like I'll drop dead any second after the long day I've had," you tell Sienna, hoping she'll understand your need for an early night, but you can't help but feel a twang of hope in your heart that you might run into the cute brown-eyed stranger there.

Sienna turns to you with a playful salute, saying, "Yes, ma'am. We'll just have a few drinks, mingle around. We won't be there long." Her words reassure you, and you offer her an appreciative smile as the two of you share a laugh.

-------⋆✧⋆-------

As you and Sienna stand outside of George's flat, you hear the sounds of laughter and music echo from inside. With an encouraging grin, Sienna grabs you by the arms and pushes open the door, pulling you into the flat.

Your eyes scan the room, taking in the sights and sounds of the party. Despite your fatigue, a spark of excitement blooms within you; it's been a while since you've had the opportunity to drink a little and let loose.

Sienna's eyes scan the room. and an excited smile lights up her face as she spots someone. "George!", she calls out enthusiastically, waving to catch the attention of a brown haired man.

He gives Sienna a slightly intoxicated smile as he stumbles over to where the two of you stand. "Hi! You made it!," he greets her with a hug.

Sienna responds with a smile, saying, "Of course! Any excuse to get drunk," as she pulls away and turns slightly towards you. "George, this is my other half, Y/N," she introduces, prompting you to flash him a smile and lean in for a side hug, which he reciprocates.

"Hey, Y/N, how are you finding London so far?" George inquires, prompting you to reply, "Oh, it's been great, and it's a plus living with Sienna…"

"Well, let me introduce you to the rest of the gang and get you guys a drink. Come." He leads the two of you near the kitchen, where you see two men chatting with solo cups in hand. George gestures towards the drinks and encourages you to help yourselves, handing you each a cup as well.

You quickly fix yourself a drink and take a sip, the cold liquid adding some life back into you. You turn around to see Sienna and George now in a conversation with the two other guys. You grab your drink and head over to join them.

"Guys, this is Y/N," Sienna introduces you to the two men in front of you, slinging an arm around you in the process. "Y/N, this is Chris and this is Arthur," Sienna continues, "They live here too. We have another Arthur; he should be around here somewhere," George adds as he takes a look around the room.

Arthur extends his hand and says, "It's nice to finally meet you. Sienna doesn't shut up about you." Chris chimes in, "Yeah, we know everything… even the thing with the door." You look at him in shock and lightly laugh, replying, "Yeah....I am not drunk enough to get into the whole door story." you say taking a large swig of your drink, earning a laugh from the group.

30 minutes and many vodka shots later, you get to learn a little more about the boys. The conversation is flowing and filled with laughter. You find out that all of them are YouTubers and create content on the internet. George makes videos on YouTube and Tik-Tok, and Chris made football videos. Arthur, in particular, was a musician, which you spent a few good minutes remarking how cool that was.

After conversing a bit more, Sienna takes you around the room and introduces you to few more people. Some lived in the building and others were mutual friends that she had with George, Chris and Arthur.

You are chatting with a few girls when George joins the group, more shots in hand, "No more...I'm like another shot away from throwing up," you tell him.

"That's fine. I'll find someone to hold your hair back," he says with a chuckle, placing a shot glass in your hand and in the already drunk state you were in, you comply.

Even more shots later, you excuse yourself to go to the restroom. George tells you to use the en-suite in his room and despite George's instructions, it takes you all but 5 seconds to forget in your intoxicated state.

You head in the general direction that he pointed you in and walk down the hall, stumbling into the first bedroom that you see. The room has a cozy and warm atmosphere. There is a filming set up on the desk in the corner, a bookshelf overflowing with books and a white piano placed against one of the walls. At first glance, you don't feel like the room fits the vibe that George had, but you brushed it off and made a beeline to the toilet.

You finish your business and step out of the restroom. As you exit, you hear the door of the balcony open wider, and at that moment it dawns on you that you might have unintentionally entered someone else's private space by mistake.

Without a second thought, you try to head straight out the door, hoping to completely avoid any interaction at all. But with the alcohol slowing down your reaction time, you're only able to take maybe four steps before you hear a man's voice, "Oh, hello."

In that moment, you just want to make a run for it, but instead, you turn around to face whoever's room this was. You're pleasantly surprised when you come face to face with a familiar warm smile.

"Hey", you reply with slight surprise in your tone, a smile creeping up on your face. His face lights up with a bright smile at the sight of the person that was occupying space in his mind for the past week.

"Hide everything heavy, else I might drop it on your foot," you say, your face scrunching at your embarrassing attempt to make this interaction less awkward. Your words earn you a laugh.

"Oh, sorry btw," you blurt out, pointing to the restroom door. "George said I could use the one in his room, but I got confused and ended up here. I know I probably should have checked to see if there was someone else here first. Haha, I don't always think too straight when I'm drunk, you know, especially because it's been almost 6 months since I drank last so, I'm usually not a lightweight, but I guess the large pause from drinking has kind of turned me into one." you word vomit in your drunken state.

You pause for a second to catch your breath, all while the man in front of you takes it all in with an amused smile on his face. "Oh shit, I'm rambling, aren't I? Sorry for that," your words are accompanied with a slight stumble even while just standing, and the man quickly rushes to your side. "Woah there," he says, helping you regain balance. "Come sit down." He leads you and sits you down on the edge of his bed, taking a seat next to you.

"Oh! I'm Y/N, by the way. Sorry I didn't catch your name last time," you finally introduce yourself, hoping to clear the awkward air. He smiles warmly. "I'm Arthur," he says, his voice soft and friendly.

"So you're the fourth flatmate," you remark, trying to keep the conversation flowing smoothly.

"Yeah, that's me," Arthur confirms with a nod. "The elusive fourth flatmate," he adds with a chuckle. "I've been friends with the boys for a while, but I just moved in a a few weeks ago."

As Arthur talks about how he met each of his flatmates, you can't help but be drawn in by his charming and slightly goofy personality. You also didn't mind just staring at his handsome face for a while. You find yourself smiling at his easy demeanor, pleasantly surprised by how instantly at ease you started to feel around him as you two spoke, as if you'd known each other much longer than your short interactions.

You learn that Arthur is a YouTuber too, specializing in TV show commentary and reaction videos. You make a mental note to check out his channel, along with the others', when you manage to find the time.

He says, "You know, I totally felt like an idiot the other day for not getting your name." You chuckle softly, feeling a bit relieved that he brought it up first.

"Oh no, that was totally on me," you admit sheepishly, "I was in a bit of a hurry." you quickly recover, flashing him a warm smile. "But it's nice seeing you again," you say sincerely.

"Likewise," Arthur replies, a hint of relief in his voice. "I was hoping we'd run into each other again."

"Is your boyfriend here as well?" Arthur asks, his voice tinged with a hint of disappointment. For a moment, you almost feel like you misheard him. "I'm sorry, what?" you ask, taken aback. "Your boyfriend, the guy from the hall the other week, don't you live together?" he asks, with furrowed brows.

"Oh, no, he wasn't my boyfriend," you clarify, a hint of amusement in your voice. "I live with my friend Sienna. He's her ex; he was just coming over to pick up some of the stuff he left behind." You swear you see relief wash over Arthur's face.

"But where did you get that impression?" you ask, intrigued.

Arthur hesitates for a moment before answering, "Well, before he went into your flat, he said that his girlfriend lived there, tried to size me up, and then told me to stay away from your place."

You look at him in shock. "He did what!?" you exclaim, "Are you serious?", you say, making a mental note to strangle Joey if you were to ever see him again.

Arthur nods, a sympathetic expression on his face. "Yeah, I found the bloke a little dodgy. Weird character."

You can't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. "Well, now you know why he's her ex," you quip, shaking your head.

After a moment of silence, Arthur clears his throat, his tone slightly hesitant. "So, you're single?" he asks, his gaze meeting yours. You notice a hint of nervousness in his voice, and he quickly adds, "I-I don't mean to make you uncomfortable with that question…"

You offer him a reassuring smile. "No, no, it's okay," you reassure him, appreciating his concern. "Yes, I'm single," you confirm, feeling a sense of ease in his presence.

Arthur visibly relaxes, relieved by your response. "Good to know," he says with a small, sheepish grin. You can't help but find his reaction incredibly cute, and you let out a soft laugh. "Yeah, just focusing on finding my footing here in London," you explain, your tone light.

Arthur leans in with curiosity. "So, what brings you to London?" he asks, genuine interest gleaming in his eyes. You can't help but feel a flutter of warmth in your chest, surprised and pleased by the level of interest he's showing, unable to recall any guy you've talked to who has shown such genuine curiosity about your life.

You smile, feeling a sense of connection as you share a bit of your story. "Well, I'm actually starting my Ph.D. next week," you reveal. "It's been my dream program for as long as I can remember."

His eyebrows raise in intrigue. "Wow! a Ph.D.? That's impressive. In archeology?" he asks, his interest piqued. He laughs softly, and adds "I remember from the books you dropped on me."

You laugh, appreciating his recall. "Yes, that's the one," you confirm, feeling your heart melting at how attentive he was.

"Wow, archaeology sounds fascinating," Arthur remarks, leaning in with genuine interest, and you realize just how close he had gotten during this conversation. "How did you get into it?"

You smile, reminiscing about your journey. "Well, it's kind of because of my father," you begin, "He was a Greek history professor, and some of my youngest memories are of sitting in on his lectures when I was little and he has always been very supportive of me learning about other cultures and their histories."

Arthur's eyes light up with curiosity as he listens intently.

"So I just knew," you continue, "When it was time for uni, it just felt write to study archeology. Though I was studying in the States up until now, I traveled to various countries, exploring different archaeological sites." Arthur nods, captivated by your story.

And just like that, the conversation flows effortlessly between you, diving deeper into the world of archaeology and sharing your mutual fascination with the subject. You also ask him about his journey in becoming a youtuber and are extremely impressed by how he transitioned from being a lawyer to a content creator. With each new detail he shares, you find yourself being just a little more attracted to him.

As you continue on with your conversation, your attention is drawn away when you hear a knock on the open door of the room.

George peaks his head into the room, you get up and face him, realizing that you had completely forgotten that you even were at a party. Time had slipped away as you spoke with Arthur.

You check your phone, and were slightly shocked to see that almost 2 hours had passed by since you came stumbling into Arthur's room.

"Y/N, I was looking for you," George says, concern evident in his voice. "Sienna seems a bit out of it. I think you should take her home."

Immediately, you're on your feet, concern for your friend overriding any other thoughts. You follow George back into the living room, Arthur following closely behind. You see that the crowd had thinned out a bit but the music was still playing and there were still people chatting and drinking.

Sienna is sprawled out on the couch, her hair covering her face. You crouch down next to her, gently brushing her hair away. "Are you okay, babe?" you ask softly.

Sienna's eyes flutter open, and she springs up, throwing her arms around you. "Y/N! Where were you all night? I wanted to drink more with you!" she exclaims. Then, she turns to George and demands, "Get us more shots, George!"

George looks between the two of you and shakes his head with a smile. "Water it is," he says and heads to the kitchen to get some.

Sienna spots Arthur standing behind you. "Hey there," she says cheerfully. She'd always been the more social one between you two and absolutely loved meeting new people.

Arthur comes over and crouches next to you, introducing himself to her. "You must be Sienna. I'm Arthur, another one of George's flatmates," he says warmly. "How are you feeling? Do you need anything?" He asks, and you find yourself looking at Arthur with a smile, touched by how sweet he was being.

"You're the guy that Y/N almost decapitated last week," she teases, a mischievous twinkle in her eye, completely ignoring Arthur's questions. "Oh, you are cute!"

Sienna then glances at you, a goofy smile spreading across her face. "You were right, he is cute," she says, with a playful wink in your direction.

As Sienna's playful words sink in, you feel a blush creeping up on your face. Sienna always lost whatever little filter she had when she was drunk.

You catch Arthur glancing at you for a second, and you quickly avert your gaze, attempting to hide your flushing cheeks.

George returns with a bottle of water and hands it to you. You get Sienna to drink as much as she can.

"I should get her to bed then," you announce to the boys. Moving to pick her up, you find her weight causing you to stumble. Just as you're about to lose your balance, Arthur steps in to help, stabilizing both of you.

"I'll help get her back home," Arthur offers. You flash him an appreciative smile. Grateful for his assistance, you nod in agreement.

"It was great meeting you George," you say with a smile as he hands you Sienna's bag.

"It was great meeting you too," George replies warmly. "Take care yeah?", you nod in response.

With a final wave, you and Arthur begin to make your way out of the apartment, Sienna leaning on both of you for support.

-------⋆✧⋆-------

"Alright, Sienna, we're home," you say gently as you now stand in front of your door, slightly nudging her, waking her up, as she had managed to doze off while you were getting the door open. You carefully guide her through the door with Arthur's assistance.

"Her bedroom is just down the hall." You say to Arthur and he helps you get her to her room.

"Let's get you settled then," you say to Sienna as you lay her in her bed and take her heels off. Arthur steps aside for a moment while you tuck Sienna into bed and ensure she's comfortable.

Once Sienna is settled, you glance at Arthur and gesture him to leave with you. The two of you leave her bedroom as quietly as possible, and you step outside your flat so you can thank him and see him off.

You and Arthur stand in the hallway outside your door, a quiet moment settling between you.

"Thank you again for helping me with Sienna," you say, breaking the silence.

Arthur shakes his head, "It wasn't a bother at all," he replies sincerely, his eyes reflecting genuine kindness. Then, he remarks, "You and Sienna seem really close."

You nod, a soft smile playing on your lips. "Yeah, we've known each other since we were about 10 years old. She's probably the only person in the world who knows me better than I know myself," you explain. Arthur listens attentively, admiring you as you talk about your best friend with a slight twinkle in your eye.

Arthur nods with a smile. "It was great seeing you again," he says, and you return his smile, expressing your mutual sentiment.

He then reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his phone. "Could I get your number?" he asks, a hint of nervousness in his voice as he hands you his phone.

You take the phone with a smile, feeling the subtle tension building in the air. After exchanging numbers, a moment of silence passes as you gaze into each other's eyes. In that moment, you notice just how close he's stood, his height easily towering over you.

In a low voice, you say, "I really enjoyed speaking with you today," with a smile. Arthur replies, "So did I."

The tension between you grows palpable, and Arthur breaks the silence. "I think we should hang out more often," he suggests.

"Yeah, I think so too," you reply, excitement lacing your voice.

Maybe it was the alcohol that was still flowing in your system, or maybe it was the feeling of anticipation that was building, almost like each of you was waiting for the other to say or do something, or maybe it was just this gorgeous man standing ever so close to you, with his pretty brown eyes and a charming smile that was already getting you weak at your knees. Whatever the reason may be, all you knew is that you were feeling surprisingly bold tonight.

Without another word, you lean in, deciding to shoot your shot with the guy who only came into your life a week ago. Arthur reciprocates, leaning in and connecting his lips with yours. His hands come up to your waist, giving it a light squeeze as he pulls you almost flush against his hard chest. The sudden contact causes a light gasp to escape your mouth. Arthur takes the chance as he slips his hot tongue into your mouth. Arthur's tongue explores your mouth, sending shivers down your spine and a warmth spreads down your body.

He gently pushes you up against your door as he deepens the kiss further. You find yourself melting into his touch, your arms moving up to wrap around his neck. You give his fluffy soft hair a slight tug, causing Arthur to let out a low groan and he tries to get even closer to you, as if that were even physically possible anymore.

You feel his warm hand snake up the back of your shirt and settle on the low of your back, the sensation turning your legs to jelly.

If someone would have told you a month a ago that you’d be making out with a guy you had just met outside of your flat in London, you would have laughed at their face.

This particular moment was absolutely perfect and you did not wanna stop anytime soon.

Eventually, the two of you pull away breathless, panting for air. Both of you look at each other with matching lust-filled eyes and flushed cheeks.

In that moment the both of you let out a laugh, now feeling a lot lighter after breaking the tension.

Arthur takes a step back and looks like he is about to say something. But, before he can get a word in, a loud thud interrupts the moment from inside your flat.

The sounds causes you to jolt and step away from the door. You turn around to open the door, hoping that Sienna hadn't hurt herself in her drunk state.

Before you stepped into you flat, you turn to Arthur. "I had a really good time tonight," you say, smiling. He returns you that swoon worthy smile of his.

"I'll see you later." He says with a goodbye.

With that, you head inside, a goofy smile of your own plastered across your face. You lean against your door and take a moment to process what just happened.

"Y/N", your thoughts are interrupted as you hear Sienna call out to you from inside her bedroom.

"Coming," you reply, heading in her direction, your mind still reeling from the passionate moment you shared with Arthur.

Once you had made sure that Sienna was all good and tucked back into bed, you find yourself sitting on the edge of your bed, with flushed cheeks, replaying the events of tonight.

Your phone dings beside you, lighting up your dark bedroom. You peer over to see a "Hi" from an unknown number and at that moment you knew that this new chapter of your life in London, might just be the best one yet.

Part 2

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

A/N: AAAAAAHHHH! I still can't believe that I've finally gotten my first fic up. I kind of want to write a part 2 for this fic. I’m envisioning cute museum dates and late night ramblings. Something that is in the same universe as this story. Let me know what you think.

Check out my other fics and oneshots here. Requests are currently open!! Or just drop in for a chat! 😊

#arthurtv #arthurtv x reader #arthurtv imagines #arthurtv fics #arthur frederick #arthur frederick imagines #arthur frederick fics #george clarke #george clarkey #youtube fics #youtube imagines #chaos chrew #strangers to lovers #fluff #arthur frederick x reader #youtuber #youtuber fluff #arthurtv fluff

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backtothefanfiction · 7 months

Text

I’ve got you | tasm!peter

Warnings: fear of heights, (this is just fluff)

Word Count: Definitely under 1k (I just wrote this in app so don’t know for sure)

A/N: literally just a quick little imagine that’s in my head before I sleep. Enjoy.

You held your eyes shut tight. You could feel his hands still tentatively braced on your hip and lower back as the wind whipped around the two of you.

You knew you were high just from the fact that the sound of the traffic logged streets of New York below you, sounded so far away.

“Baby, open your eyes.” He encouraged.

You shook your head. “No.”

“I promise I got you. Just open your eyes and look at the view.” You shook your head again and his hands grew firmer. “I promise I’ve got you, I won’t let you fall.” He said in a more serious tone. But your butt wobbled, your legs felt like jelly, toes dangling off the very edge of the building you both stood atop.

Your hand flailed about in the air, looking for his and he quickly raced to put his gloved hand in yours. Your fingers gripped tight to the familiar fabric, thumb brushing soothingly across the ribbed web texture over his fingers. You breathed deeply, counting to ten in your head. ‘You can do this. Peter’s Spider-Man, you’re safe. He does this every day. You can do this.’ You repeated in your head.

As if he could tell you were trying to psych yourself up, to finally bite the bullet and open your eyes, his voice came softly in your ear. “I’m gonna count to three okay and on three you’re gonna-“

“Open my eyes.” You finish.

“That’s my girl. Come on… Ready?” You gave a small nod, your other hand moving to hold his hand around your waist steady, making sure he wasn’t gonna let you go, just in case. “1…2…3!”

You forced yourself to open your eyes. You wobbled as you let out a little gasp but he held you steady.

“Look out, not down.” He advised and you silently nodded. You may now have use of your eyes, but it came at the cost of your voice. “You okay?” He asked. You slowly nodded, your lips held tightly together. “You wanna get down?” He asked, taking in the look of terror on your face. You nodded harder. He chuckled. “Okay. Hold tight Spider Monkey.” He said as he wrapped his arm tightly around you, your own arms holding firmly around his neck as you screwed your eyes up tight.

When he set you back down on the floor 30 seconds later, you struggled to let go.

“Was it really that bad?” He asked.

“Mhmm.” You nodded as you began to pry yourself off him. “Yeah, no. Nope, I don’t wanna do that again.”

“But you like swing?” He questioned.

“I like the feeling, don’t like looking.” You confirmed.

“Okay.” He noted. “So… do you wanna go get some ice cream?” He asked.

“Yeessss!” You sighed with relief, eager to put the experience behind you and replace it with something good. “But can we walk, I think I’ve had enough of being… up there, for the day” you say pointing upwards at the surrounding skyscrapers.

“Yeah, okay.” He sighs but you know he’s smiling under his mask.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #andrew!peter parker #peter parker imagine #spider-man #andrew!peter x reader #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker #one shot #imagine #Spider-Man imagine

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marukissnack · 9 months

Note

Totally for SCIENCE purposes only....

🏠 😍🧑‍🍳🫵🐢💵🧑‍🤝‍🧑🦸

aaaaaaaaaand another question of my ooooowwwnnn.....

which iteration of TMNT do you think has inspired your AU the most?

Anon you’re spoiling me here ( ；∀；) Lots of longer answers in this one so BUCKLe UP BOYS

Find the list of questions here!

🏠 What is the Lair like?

This is an interesting one, ‘cause in this AU their lair and their home are two separate places!

I’ve mentioned/implied multiple times before that Yoshi, the turtles’ “uncle” & official guardian, is still human. Because of this, My AU turtles live topside in what’s essentially a large apartment.

I…definitely 100% made their home in the sims, and spent hours in first-person Google maps roaming the streets of NYC to find a real live building as reference to make it that much more realistic. It was a lot of fun. That is not sarcasm. I also plan to recreate their hideout in the basement of the sims lot when I get motivation, and I’ll be posting it entirely once it’s complete. But for now, have a basic description!

Their “house” is a three story building, purchased at a time when the housing market was not impossible, and passed down generations of Hamatos. On the main floor is the Hamato Dojo (name pending) where Yoshi works by teaching people (mostly children) the art of ninjutsu. This is also where the turtles do most of their formal training sessions, and when they were tots they sometimes had to hide/hangout in the staff kitchen but I’ll get into that bit some other time.

The second floor is their main living quarters. I tried to imitate a very apartment looking layout for it, but it takes up the entire floor if that makes sense. 5 males, 4 teenagers, 3 bedrooms, 1 bathroom. You can probably imagine the chaos that takes place in the morning. Ha. Yoshi gets his own room, Mikey & Leo share another, and Raph & Donnie share the Master bedroom because those two are the most picky about their personal space and they both NEED their own desks. Couldn’t just SHARE like Leo & Mikey do. Smh my head.

The third floor shares the exact same layout as the second, very apartment building like. It is currently unoccupied. The reason they don’t use it is because technically it can be rented out, and Yoshi’s father (another bit I’ll get into some other time) wants him to do that (for more money), so they can’t use it so it stays in decent shape for future occupants. It most likely is/will be rented out during the story, but it’s also very likely it will be a complete rando who has no purpose in the main story.

NOW THE LAIR, which the turtles call their Hideout. It is in the sewers. The main entrance is the manhole in the alleyway conveniently right by their house, like literally climb out the window, jump down the fire escape, boom, right there. There is a slight walk through the tunnels to get to the main area, but it’s very close. The hideout itself isn’t super lived in, but a majority of their hobbyist things are down there due to the lack of space in the apartment, for example:

A lot of Leo’s musical instruments are down there, like a portable keyboard, an abandoned drum set they found, etc.

Mikey keeps his spray paints and messier art stuff there

Donnie’s built his big, mainline PC down there, you know the one, the one that does the heavy technological stuff like the serious hacking. Idk. Anyway, a majority of what would be considered his “lab” is down there.

Raph…he hangs out down there. Lmao, most of his hobbies are on his main PC in his room so he just follows his brothers to hang out tbh. There is a sort of Rage Room a little ways away from the main area that Mikey put together for the two of them to blow off steam.

There’s a couch they found on the side of the road one night that they dragged across town to take down there. Some old beanbags. Idk, I haven’t visualized in the sims yet, my decor game severely lacks when it’s just in my head. This is typically where they’ll go when they need out of the apartment but don’t wanna get all human-disguised for the public.

😍 Are there any romances in your au?

There is no explicit romance, and VERY very few implied (like…one, lol). I considered it for a few of the adult characters, but ended up deciding that I just don’t feel it’s necessary to include in the story I wanna tell.

Mikey does have a crush. But there is no hope for it going anywhere, and he knows that, so I don’t really count it as a “romance”. Just a teen with a celebrity crush. Nothing more.

🧑‍🍳 Who is the best cook?

Of the main cast? Raph, but don’t tell the others; he has a reputation to maintain.

Yoshi’s pretty good, too. Fresh grown herbs do wonders for a meal.

🫵 Who do you project onto the most?

….That’s funny because I project onto all of them all the every all the time. But I GUESS that’s not the question sooo…

Me: Geez this is such a weird thing that I do. Probably from my ADHD or whatever.

Me: ……

Me: Here you go, Mikey.

🐢 Are your turtles different species?

YES! :D I spent many hours researching turtle species to find the right ones for each of them. Leo gave me the HARDEST time, fr.

Donnie is a False Map

Leo is a River Cooter

Mikey is a Yellow-Bellied Slider

Raph is a Common Musk (aka stinkpot)

And as I mentioned in my last post, Sandro is a turtle, so he gets included. He is a Red-Eared Slider.

There is also a Painted Turtle.

💵 How do your turtles make money? Or do they only scavenge?

As mentioned above: Yoshi is a human! With a human business! And gets money for it! Crazy! Each turtle gets some form of allowance idk how much I haven’t really thought about it, but they do get something.

On top of that, there are some other forms of income that the boys have developed.

Raph occasionally livestreams gaming. People are crazy about his hyper realistic vtuber model, it’s rigged so well and the 3D textures wtf (Don’t tell Yoshi he’d FREAK!)

Donnie helps people choose parts for PC builds and/or builds it for them. All his reviews have the same format: “I heard good things about this guy, so I gave him a chance. Kinda freaky how I was told to just drop off all the super expensive parts outside an alleyway and walk away, and when I turned around they were immediately gone. Like, those were definitely just stolen lmao. But then the next day, there was my perfectly built PC right there, right when he said it’d be done. Absolutely insane experience, definitely some kind of cryptid. 5 stars.”

Mikey does art commissions and probably some kinda webcomic

Leo definitely has some kind of “I will make banger background tunes for your business/livestream/etc.” listing on fiverr.

🧑‍🤝‍🧑 Is April considered a sibling?

Yeah…yeah, eventually. April is an only child, so she DEFINITELY learns to see them as brothers. Because they don’t meet until the story’s actually started, it takes some time. But eventually the Hamatos become a second family to her, and they start to forget there were times where April wasn’t sitting on their couch. Plus, they’ve always had that 6th chair at the table practically waiting for the final family member to arrive, and it just makes sense for her to be there.

…they’re gonna need to buy more chairs soon.

🦸 Is Casey a vigilante?

In a way.

I’m gonna be honest, my Casey is not very fleshed out at the moment, as he doesn’t come into the story for some time. But I do know that Casey has a heart for good and justice, and hates the clear disconnect with how some people are treated differently for seemingly no reason. And he hates the way that those in authority deal with it all. But I don’t think he is very active in this passion, in the ways of his canon counterparts, at least not early on.

I think, where he is now, he’s one push away from running head first on the vigilante’s path. If only a red garbed turtle would show up and like shove him over or something. Wouldn’t that be crazy?

❓Which iteration of TMNT do you think has inspired your AU the most?

That’s a funky one! I’m a big fan of every iteration (I still have not seen them all, but I hold each one I have consumed very close) so there’s not one specific iteration that serves as THE inspiration. I’m sorta taking bits and pieces from each —a character from here, a hobby from there, a storyline to reference here, etc.— what I feel fits the best for the story I want to tell. I’m also wanting to try new things that haven’t been seen in official turtle media yet (afaik), y’know, like…“What if Donnie was the oldest? How would that change how his personality manifests?“ — “What if Splinter didn’t mutate and was a human instead of a rat? How would that affect how the turtles were raised and where they live?”

So in a way, I suppose Rise is my biggest inspiration? As it’s the first show to REALLY change up the status quo outside of just tone (with Raph being the oldest & leader, Shredder being an ancient demon instead of Just Some Evil Dude, etc.). But each iteration is uniquely different in its own special ways. And I love that.

Anywho, uhhh… For the overall tone of the story, 2012 is what I’m using as an “inspiration”/guideline; a slightly darker, more serious take but still very silly and humourous.

I’m also snagging quite a bit from Mirage comics (and sort of by extension 2003 show?).

So like. To answer your question:

Yes.

#my turtles au #‘Stop talking about my fear stink!’ - Raph RotTMNT

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magicshopaholic · 2 years

Text

The Fifth (Jungkook x OC)

Summary: Jeon Jungkook is the world famous golden maknae, capable of anything, afraid of nothing. He's also the worst date you've ever been on - and now he wants a second one.

Pairing: Jungkook x OC

Genre: Teasing, banter, slowburn fluff (is that a thing?), idiots to lovers

Word count: 7.9 K

Warnings: Insinuations of sexual harassment (not from Jungkook)

Part 1 of 2 (Part 2)

Listen to: "whistle for the choir" by the fratellis

jungkook masterlist | main masterlist

You barely waited for the car to stop before you began grabbing your stuff - your bag, your phone, and what remained of your dignity. You threw the door open and had one leg out, ready to get this hideous night over with, when you decided to give him one last look. One last chance to look even the slightest bit ashamed.

No such luck.

He sat in the driver’s seat, staring straight ahead as his hand clutched the steering wheel, as though ready to zoom away the moment you closed the door. You stared at the baseball cap on his head - the same cap he’d worn throughout the date, even inside the damn restaurant. Filled with the sudden urge to take it off and smack him with it, you opted to scoff instead.

“Good night, I guess,” you muttered, unable to keep the disdain out of your voice. If he noticed it, he didn’t show it.

“Right.” His fingers visibly tightened around the steering wheel.

You waited for him to say something else but when he didn’t, you were done. You were out of patience, finally, after three hours of possibly the worst night of your life. Without another word, you stepped out of the car and slammed the door of his fancy Hyundai shut, walking straight to the entrance of your building. You turned one absolute last time to look at him; even through the window of the car, this late at night, you could make out his sharp jawline, aquiline nose, and the scowl under that stupid baseball cap.

He was gorgeous. He was sensational, he was adored, he was worshipped. But above all, you decided, Jeon Jungkook was the absolute worst date ever.

“Is the coffee machine still not fixed?” You slam the side of it and groan when it simply gurgles. “How are we supposed to perform at our best if we don’t even have caffeine in the morning?”

Seulgi clicks her tongue from behind you, typing something on her laptop, a steaming mug of green tea in her other hand. “There’s literally a coffee cart in the lobby.”

“I know, I saw that,” you mutter, walking over and sinking in your seat next to her. “But the crowd in front of it was insane. Is it some new popular brand I don’t know about?”

“Doubt it,” she says, sliding her cup over to you which you accept gratefully. “I think they put it up for BTS. It’s their first official day back, right?”

You freeze for a moment, mid-sip, before going back to work. Seulgi seems to remember it then, too.

“Oh, do you think Jungkook will seek you out?” she wonders, eyebrow raised under her glasses. “I mean… to apologise or whatever?”

You snort. “Not likely. He barely had anything to say to me that night; I doubt he’s going to start today.”

“You never know. You both work at Hybe - it’s just a matter of time before you bump into each other again.”

You give her a look. “I’ve been working at Hybe for four years and he still asked me out at the liquor store across the street. And after that disaster of a date…” You shudder. “I’m not holding my breath.”

“Yeah, it’s probably for the best,” agrees Seulgi, who, by virtue of being in the very same liquor store but in the adjoining aisle, was the only person who knew that you’d been on a date with Jungkook. It also meant that you’d vented to her and only her about it - and thankfully, she’d been just as disgusted when you’d told her about the baseball cap.

“I have to say, though,” she continues, getting up to pick up a sheaf of prints from the other end of the table, “Jungkook is not the one I would’ve pegged to be that aloof on a date. Taehyung, maybe - and only maybe. He could’ve been having a bad day - he was still serving…”

You tune her out partly, having heard all this before. You’ve considered all this too, but so far, Jungkook has not only taken you out on the worst date of your life, he’s also denied you your morning coffee. You have no patience, especially when you begin reliving that horrendous night six months ago.

It’s true, he’d been back on a break from his military service. The whole country knew about it, which was why you weren’t only surprised that he was in a liquor store across the street from Hybe, but that out of all the things he could’ve been doing on his few days back, he chose to go out with you - and bomb it. He’d picked you up in a stale mood, barely greeting you before he zoomed away towards the restaurant whose name he’d texted you the previous night. When you’d stepped out of the car, your jaw had almost dropped at his attire: faded jeans, a hoodie and trainers that he’d probably worn to the gym that morning. To top it off, he’d thrown on that ridiculous baseball cap just before entering.

You’d followed him in a daze. When you’d found out the name of the restaurant, you’d searched it online and carefully curated your outfit, keeping in mind how refined it was. Not only had Jungkook made no such effort, he’d chosen a table next to the kitchen and taken his seat first, leaving you to sit right next to the kitchen door. He’d barely made any conversation, looking at his lap, the menu, his phone any time you tried to initiate dialogue. Finally, by the time your food had arrived, you’d lost all interest and instead chosen to at least make the best of the free meal you were getting.

Less than five bites in, the door behind you had opened with a bang and knocked your chair - and you - into the table, making you choke, when you’d felt a trickle of something ice cold down your chest. You’d turned in horror to see dark red wine make its way down your shoulder and chest, permanently staining the dress you’d spent a quarter of last month’s salary on. While Jungkook had initially made no effort to help you out, perhaps it was the sight of your top getting more and more translucent by the second that compelled him to sullenly offer you his hoodie - but, you reasoned, only because he was wearing a jacket over it.

The rest of the night had gone just as abysmally, until you’d opted to decline any dessert from the waiter, ignoring Jungkook’s affronted expression. You just wanted to get home.

It’s a few more days before you consciously think of him again. Seulgi drags you into the conference room where the entire marketing team has just concluded a meeting, leaving behind them an empty room of coffee cups and stray laptop chargers.

“It’s a gold stud,” she mutters again, shuffling over to where she was standing to hopefully spot her missing earring. Tugging on her ear, she suddenly gets down on her knees, peering under the table.

“I’m going to be screwed in this meeting,” you mutter worriedly, setting a file to download before placing your laptop on the table and helping Seulgi search. “Check in the cushion of the chair in front of you.”

“Believe me, they won’t even make it to your part of the presentation,” says Seulgi absently, and you can’t help but think she’s right. “They always go on and on about print for some reason and I just can’t understand - holy shit, it’s here!” She pops up, holding the tiny stud in her hand like a talisman. “You were right!”

“That’s great,” you say hurriedly, scrambling to your feet. “Now can we -”

The glass door opens with a soft squeak, interrupting you.

“- looking at different concepts just because you’ve all come back - oh. Excuse me.” A man in loose pants, a bomber jacket (in April?) and a fedora on his head strides in before stopping to a halt. Taking one look at him, you know he’s talent, probably a producer or a sound technician which means you have no business talking to him unless it’s strictly about work. The moment he spots you and Seulgi he stops talking, and both of you bow immediately.

“We’ll just be out of your way,” says Seulgi quickly, and you nod, picking up your laptop when you notice the person he’s with.

“Wait, I - I know you,” says Jungkook, eyes wide with confusion and wonder.

All thoughts of not talking to artists go straight out the window. You frown, taking a moment to process that he’s talking to you. “Excuse me?”

Next to you, Seulgi’s eyes widen. The person with Jungkook only raises his eyebrows, but you aren’t really looking at him anyway. Jungkook, having already shown more interest in you in the last five seconds than he had during your entire date, seems to be realising something.

“Lia!” he exclaims suddenly, making you raise your eyebrows. “Your - your name is Lia… right?” He frowns, looking incredibly doubtful, as though afraid of answering a question wrong in class. “We met in the - in, um…”

You can’t find words - any words. Sure, the date had been terrible. Maybe you’d expected too much from men; maybe you’d even come to expect that Jeon Jungkook was a diva in real life, insulted at the idea of dating the common folk. What you didn’t expect, though, even for a moment, was that he wouldn’t even remember you.

You consider watching him struggle for a bit but it gets too painful, your humiliation eventually taking over. “Uh, actually, we’ve - we’ve never met,” you interrupt him, shutting your laptop in your hands, the snapping sound making him jump. “You must be thinking of someone else. Excuse me.” You sidestep the men and exit the room with Seulgi, deliberately not looking back.

“He remembered your name,” points out Seulgi eventually, sounding uneasy. “And he did… no, I can’t. God, what a jerk.”

What a jerk indeed. You intend to use the slowly bubbling anger to help you approach this meeting a bit more confidently and you mentally talk yourself up as you simultaneously curse Jungkook. To your absolute horror, he catches up to you when you’re on your way, running up next to you in the middle of a corridor.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” you hiss, taking a deliberate step away from him when you notice someone walk by and frown at you two.

“So we have met,” he says, sounding far too victorious for someone who’s evidently run up two flights of stairs to catch up with you.

“Good job. Now, if you’ll excuse me -” You try to walk around him but he keeps up with you easily.

“Look, wait, I’m sorry - I didn’t forget, I just needed a moment to place you, I - will you stop for one second?” Jungkook slides abruptly to stand in front of you.

You bump into him before jerking back. “Do you have a problem?” you ask in a low voice. Behind him, you see people filing into the room where your meeting is about to take place.

“No, I just want to apologise for - well, for -”

But you cut him off again when you spot your boss making her way into the room. “Listen, I don’t know what you’re talking about but I really have to go -”

“Okay, but can we talk after you’ve -”

“I wouldn’t count on it. Goodbye, Jungkook.” Nudging him out of the way, you half-jog away from him, laptop in hand. You make it inside just in time, greeting people on the way as you approach the front of the room, plugging in your laptop to the projector. As the screen loads, you notice Jungkook outside across the corridor, still standing in the spot you left him.

---

After your meeting, which ends up going reasonably okay but extends by over an hour, you stop by the cafeteria for a protein bar before going back down to your desk. You’re about to pack up for the day when you notice a purple post-it on your bulletin board, pasted over the picture of you and your brother at his eighteenth birthday party. You sigh, having a feeling what it is.

Make six copies of the LA proposal and leave it at our desks before you go? Thanks.

Ever since your boss made it clear that you can expect a promotion decision by June this year, barring any complications (her words), it’s almost like she expects you to willingly perform chores for extra credit. You suppose you should be grateful there’s a thanks at all at the end, so you set the files to photocopy and tiredly make your way over to the copy room, protein bar in one hand. You take a large bite and push the door open, only to see someone already in there.

“Hi.” Jungkook, seated on the table next to the copy machine, smiles timidly.

You choke - literally. Clutching the doorknob, you cough until the piece of protein bar in your throat dislodges itself, while Jungkook hops off the table in a hurry and leaps over to pat your back.

“How -” you wheeze, sure your face is beet red by now, “- do you manage to do this to me every time?”

“Sorry,” he mutters with an awkward smile, stepping back once you start straightening up. “Thank God you came, though. I was starting to think I’d have to wait here all night.”

You stare. “How did you know I’d come here? Did you leave that post-it on my desk?” you ask suddenly.

“No. But I saw your boss leave it and I asked to confirm if it was your desk and she said yes…” He smiles again, looking like a woodland creature from a Pixar film. “She’s really nice.”

“Sure. How, uh… how did you know what department I’m in? I’m pretty sure that never came up.”

“Um…” He rubs the back of his neck, looking slightly uneasy now. “I asked at reception and the lady told me… it’s not private or anything, right? I mean, she wouldn’t have told me if it was. Right? She was really nice, too, so…”

You try not to roll your eyes; of course everyone’s going to be nice to Jeon Jungkook. “So you decided to corner me in the copy room?” You look up at him for confirmation. He’s a good five or six inches taller than you but you hold your ground.

“Kind of,” he admits. “I wanted to apologise. I swear I didn’t forget you… Lia. I just - it took me a moment to place you from - from our - from October.” He pauses, screwing his eyes shut before opening them again. “Which brings me to the other thing I need to apologise for.”

This should be good. You fold your arms across your chest, choosing to let Jungkook ramble on. He’s remarkably different than he was that night. He’s far better dressed, to begin with, in a white t-shirt and a smart black jacket, jeans and combat boots. Most importantly, there’s no baseball cap. He’s also said more words to you in the last two minutes than he had in three hours during your date and from the embarrassed look on his face, he knows it too.

“When we, um -” He breaks off, clearing his throat. “When we went out, I was - well, firstly I was on a break from service,” he reminds you, shrugging, “but I also wasn’t… I mean, I wasn’t in a great place. And, uh, I think I took that out on you. And our date. And I’m sorry.”

The strange thing is, you can tell he means it. He genuinely is sorry, but the actual apology itself is so half-arsed that you simply stare at him in disbelief.

“That’s it?”

Jungkook’s eyes go wide - very wide. It takes you off guard for a moment. “Um… I, uh -” He stutters, clearly not knowing where you’re going with this. He looks so pitiful trying to decode your comment that you roll your eyes, grudgingly deciding to help him out.

“Do you remember what you told me? On our date?” you prompt.

His frown deepens. “Um… about - about what?”

“Exactly,” you say forcefully. “You didn’t say anything! You wouldn’t talk to me, you wouldn’t look at me - and you wore a fucking baseball cap inside a restaurant,” you snap, unable to let that detail go.

Jungkook takes a deep breath, as though just remembering the extent of how horrible the date was. “Yes. Yes, I - I do remember that. Although -” He breaks off again, apparently deciding not to say anything.

You raise your eyebrows. “Although what?”

“It’s not important.”

“Oh, just say it.”

He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, looking extremely uncomfortable. “You were… a bit overdressed. I mean, you looked great,” he adds quickly. “But… it wasn’t that fancy a restaurant.”

You’re stumped for a moment, mostly because you’ve had this thought more times than you’d care to admit. “Well, it wasn’t KFC either,” you retort, albeit a little weakly.

Jungkook bites his lip. “Anyway… I am really sorry. You were actually being very nice and I was…” He rubs the back of his neck again, “... not cool,” he finishes.

You observe him, frowning. He’s refusing to meet your eyes, leading you to believe he’s truly apologetic. But there’s still something there to unearth.

“Why did you ask me out?” You ask the question that’s been on your mind since the moment you got into his car six months ago. “I mean, you clearly didn’t want to be there. Why bother at all?”

“Um… my friend told me -”

“Oh, please don’t tell me it was a dare,” you interrupt in a low voice, scathing but with a fear starting to bloom that you haven’t felt since high school.

“What? No, no… it wasn’t a dare. The date was real,” he adds, rubbing the back of his neck again. It’s his nervous tic; you’re surprised you don’t hate it. “But he did convince me and...” He sighs. “It’s really stupid.”

“Oh, I believe you. But I still would like to know why you asked me out on a date where you played nothing apart from One Direction’s greatest hits in the car.”

He gasps. “It included their solo works, too!”

You roll your eyes. “My mistake. Are you going to tell me or not?”

“Fine. I used to have a crush on this girl and my friend thought that going out with someone else would help me get over her.” He rolls his eyes. “I was really pissed off because I didn’t want his help but he insisted and I was just determined to prove him wrong. And… I took it out on you. And I’m really, really sorry.”

“Oh.” The momentary panic in your chest fades into something else and you’re not sure you’re meant to like it. It’s suddenly harder to meet his gaze but you force yourself to do so. “So, your friend just… he just told you to walk up to a random girl and ask her out? What if I was a sasaeng or something?”

“No, we knew you weren’t,” he answers tiredly, shaking his head. “Or he did, at least. He said he recognised you from Hybe.”

You frown. You have virtually nothing to do with the artists; your job is in digital marketing and sponsorships, unlike Seulgi who’s actually part of creative production. The closest you come to interacting with the talent at all is at launch events where they’re centre stage and you’re shunted to the corner with the rest of the suits. You wonder if this friend is another member of his band before deciding it’s far too much of a coincidence. You change tacks.

“Right. How do you know her? This girl?”

He looks a bit taken aback, like he hadn’t expected you to cross-question him about this. “Um, she’s a friend.”

“Did you ever ask her out?”

“No, she has a boyfriend. Why are we talking about this?”

It’s a good question. You remind yourself that this is none of your business, even you can’t help but feel slightly insulted. “I don’t know. But, you know… I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help.” You move to walk past him.

Jungkook wrinkles his nose. “Oh, no, I got over her ages ago. That’s not what I meant…” He huffs, apparently frustrated at not being able to express what he does mean. You feel him turn to watch you as you make your way over the copier and punch in a couple of commands, noticing him jump slightly when the machine comes to life.

“Look, I’d really like to make it up to you,” he ventures again, bravely. “Do you think… can I take you out on another date?”

You don’t even bother turning around. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“Um, no, I just thought -”

“Listen, Jungkook, I appreciate the sentiment and all but, really, I think we both learnt our lesson when it comes to dating. Each other, at least,” you clarify, waving your hand. You turn back to the copier, staring at the paper slowly disappearing into the machine until he comes to stand next to you.

“Look, I know you had a terrible time last time - and it was my fault,” he adds quickly, “but I’m not a bad date! I swear. I just - I feel really bad about how it all ended and how it’s not fair to you and -” He breaks off, taking a deep breath. “Please let me make it up to you. You can - you can choose the restaurant.”

“What if I don’t want to go to a restaurant?”

“We can go somewhere else, too,” he suggests, but you can hear his voice perk up.

“I want to go to the bird observatory in Bukhansan National Park.”

“I - okay.”

“But only at night, when the birds are asleep.”

“Um…” You can hear the frown in his voice. “Why?”

“Because then I can wake them up.” You turn to face him with a straight face. “They start making a ton of noise - it’s kind of like an animated version of metal music.”

Jungkook swallows, clearly trying to mask the confusion. “Well… okay. We can - we can try that.”

“But if they don’t wake up, you have to be absolutely quiet. Oh, and we’re not allowed to take food or drink inside,” you add.

“That - that sounds… so fun.”

You roll your eyes. “Right. Okay.”

“Okay?” His eyebrows snap up and his eyes go wide, face shining. You almost feel bad.

“Okay… my copies are done,” you clarify, reaching over and pulling out the warm paper from the copier tray. “I’m sorry, dude, but it’s just not a good idea.” You give him a mildly apologetic glance before moving to exit the room, stopping momentarily at the door. Turning around, you frown at him. “Were you really ready to take me to a bird observatory?”

He’s made no move to follow you out. “I’ll let you pick the music, too,” he offers.

For the first time in Jungkook’s presence, you smile, you humour albeit directed partly at him. “Boy bands aren’t really my thing.”

—

A couple of weeks later, Seulgi asks you for a favour. Kind of.

“Summer.” She drops a thick spiral bound notebook onto your table where it narrowly misses your laptop. The cover is glossy, like a magazine page, with the Hybe logo and multiple papers, post-its and tags sticking out of the side. Your first thought is a Burn Book.

“What?”

“Summer,” she huffs, falling into the chair beside you. “It’s summer, which means summer launch party, which means I need an entire team on board to oversee all the arrangements including the campaign launch, the goodies, social media, fan management, the pop-up store -” She breaks off, groaning loudly. One or two people look over and you duck your head behind your laptop screen.

“Yes, but just like summer itself, doesn’t the launch party happen every year?” you ask from the corner of your mouth, knowing the answer. It does; you know this because not only is it obvious, it’s also the one night you get one hundred percent off because all your commitments need to be done and delivered well in advance, leaving you free while the creative and event management folks scurry around to set up the party.

“Well, yes,” she answers, “but Taeyeon put in his papers yesterday, which means that for a whole twelve hours, nobody thought to let me know that we’d be one member short in guest management.” She sighs again, loudly.

Without looking at her, you continue typing out your email. “Why do I feel like you’re building up to a favour?”

“Oh, thank you for offering and yes, it’d be great to have you on board, thanks a lot, Lia.” She says the whole thing in one breath and sinks back into the chair.

You would be annoyed at the presumption but it’s hardly the first time you’ve depended on each other like this. Plus, if your manager is aware of you picking up extra slack, it’ll only help your case for a promotion. Moreover, Seulgi genuinely looks like she’s bursting at the seams from a bandwidth point of view. “Happy to help, I guess. What do you need?”

A lot, as it turns out. The launch party is only a week away, which means vendors and suppliers and consultants are constantly on speed dial. Thankfully, you have directly replaced Taeyeon in guest management which means your actual work - mingling to make sure high profile guests find their places and have what they need - is limited until the actual night of the party.

On the day of the party, you arrive in the afternoon, your dress and make-up in a separate bag at Seulgi’s insistence. You find her talking to a young girl with her hair in a bun, holding a bouquet of orchids in either hand.

“- theme of the night to be drilled into their heads by the end of the - oh, hi.” She turns to you, looking somewhat demented. “We were just talking flowers.”

“Got it. You needed me to set something up?”

“Yes, it’s right over here.” She provides an instruction to the florist before sweeping away, motioning for you to follow her. She reaches a guy you vaguely recognise from the celebrity endorsements team and holds out a hand, into which he deposits a sheet of paper. “Guest list,” she declares with a flourish. “You, Jieun and Minho -” she points to the same guy with her thumb - “will take care of one group each. Don’t worry, you have the easiest one.” Ignoring the dirty look Minho throws her, she steers you away.

“You know, Minho can have the easiest one if he -”

“No, Hybe doesn’t want a woman looking after the celebrities so he has to. Don’t ask me why, I don’t want to get into it,” she adds immediately, still scanning the paper. “Jieun is taking care of sponsors, Minho as you know is taking care of celebrities, which means you get…” She flips the sheet of paper to hand it to you dramatically, “... press.”

“Huh.” It’s not too bad. However, since the press is also the first to arrive, you head inside the hotel soon after to get ready. You’re straightening your hair in the bathroom when you get a message from Seulgi. Listen, you know I’m your friend and totally in your corner when it comes to stuff but if Jungkook tries to talk to you, please don’t engage. You know how pissed off the managers get when the artists are seen with employees - I just can’t afford that shit tonight.

You sigh, suddenly feeling sorry for her. We haven’t spoken since he randomly apologised that day. There’s like two hundred people here. You’ve got nothing to worry about.

You place your phone down after replying, feeling a sense of foreboding in the pit of your stomach. You wish you hadn’t said that. Of course, it’s true; you and Jungkook haven’t had a jot of interaction since the day he cornered you in the copy room. You’ve passed each other in the corridors a couple of times but it’s always been so busy and he's always surrounded by people, so you aren’t surprised. In fact, you have a feeling you embarrassed him a bit that day. While it felt mildly good at the moment, you found yourself if you’d maybe been a bit harsh when turning him down.

But you can’t worry about that now. Packing up your stuff, you head outside to drop your bags in your beat-up car before going back inside, trying not to trip over your heels.

A couple of hours later, the party is in full swing. The CEO is giving a speech on stage while everyone listens. Waiters glide around with glasses of champagne while the room generally sparkles. Standing near the sound station with Jieun and Minho, where you’re far away to not be considered guests but also close enough to help in case someone needs it, you stealthily pull down the hem of your dress.

“Just try not to sit at all,” mutters Jieun, sounding sullen. “It makes your dress ride up and then you have a creep commenting on it and his posse laughing, all because he was decided worthy of being a CEO to one of our sponsors.” She scoffs. “Arsehole.”

You frown. “Do you want a drink?”

“I’d love one. But I’m a lightweight and the buffet doesn’t open for hours.”

She’s right. Besides, as staff, you can’t quite accept champagne the way the guests do. No, if you want to drink, you need to sneak a quick one in the lounge or, like Minho, roam around with a flask attached to your hip under your jacket.

You bite your lip as the CEO cracks a joke and everyone laughs politely. You wish Jieun hadn’t brought up food. You haven’t had a chance to eat ever since you got here and although there are hors d'oeuvres being offered to guests, you know you aren’t one of them.

Once the speech is over, there’s a series of further introductions until a host comes on, a minor television personality who calls out names of top management, a couple of top sponsors and Hybe’s artists. You tune out; as Seulgi rightly said, the small group of journalists are the most low maintenance guests in attendance, treating you more like a host and less like the glorified maid Jieun seems to be perceived as.

It’s another half an hour before you come to a decision. Secure in the assumption that the journalists are going to be occupied as long as there’s a speech going on, you mutter an excuse to Jieun and Minho and slip out, determined to find food before your stomach starts growling in public. You only need to make it to the bathroom so that you can retrieve the half-eaten protein bar you have in your clutch, when you look up and see you’re not alone.

The mirror on the wall shows only one other person in the corridor. Hardly daring to believe it, you whip around to see, in the wildest coincidence that you still feel you should have seen coming, Jeon Jungkook, looking dapper in a suit and slicked back hair, eyes wide and surprised.

“Lia!”

Shit. You want to run but you’re frozen on the spot - and you honestly have nowhere to go. Plus, when he starts walking towards you with a smile, you find you don’t quite have the heart to run away from him.

“Jungkook,” you greet him in a low voice, moving to side-step him.

“What are you doing here?” he asks.

“I’m… working. What are you doing here?”

He raises his eyebrows. “I’m… also working. Technically.”

“No, I mean -” You shake your head. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in the hall with the rest of the band? Oh, my God, does Minho know you’ve left your seat? Does Seulgi?”

Jungkook frowns. “I don’t know who any of these people - wait, is Minho the guy who showed us to our seats?” When you nod, a bit frantically, he nods in understanding. “He told me where to find the bathroom. And I’m not sure but I think he offered me a drink.”

“It’s probably cheap whiskey, so please tell me you turned him down,” you say uneasily.

He grins, and it’s gorgeous. “I’m good at keeping my alcohol down,” he informs you, “but I’m not in the mood for whiskey tonight.” There’s a pause. “Can I buy you a drink, though? I mean, no offense, but you look like you could use it.” He grins again, as though to let you know it’s a joke.

You make a sound between a chuckle and a choke. “It’s an open bar. Or is this your sneaky way of asking me out again?”

“I mean, I’m not calling it a date but if you want to...”

“You should really get back to your seat before someone notices.”

But it’s at this moment that Jungkook seems to have noticed something. His eyes fall to what’s below your face and he frowns. “Hang on, is this…” He looks up at you again, as though trying to solve a complicated math problem. “Is this the same dress you wore on our -”

“I - what?” you sputter, immediately pulling the hem down again. “How - how do you even remember that?”

He gives you a look. “I wasn’t completely out of it, you know? I told you you looked good. But, seriously, how fancy did you think our date was? Or -” He ignores your burning cheeks, “how casual is this party? Why am I being forced to wear Louis Vuitton?” he demands, tugging at his tie.

“Okay, don’t ruin your outfit,” you implore tightly, reaching up to swat his hand away from his collar, “and please get back to your seat.”

For a moment, it looks like he’s going to argue but then he nods reluctantly, like a child being told what to do. You wonder if he’s used to this. You give him a gentle nudge. “Go back to your seat, Jungkook,” you repeat, hoping he listens, Seulgi’s pleading text from a few hours ago floating through your mind. You take your leave and just as you round the corner, you turn subtly to see Jungkook walking away in the other direction, looking tall and lithe as ever, and you breathe a sigh of relief.

As it turns out, your relief doesn’t last very long at all. When the chief guest of the event comes up on stage to make a speech and begins with “In 1964, when two teenagers had only dreams of changing the world…”, you hear Jieun groan next to you. You understand her; the heels and the dress and the tantalizingly close alcohol and the lack of food are turning this into a bit of a nightmare. Plus, given that most guests are in jackets, someone has turned up the AC and you can feel goosebumps erupt on your arm.

You train your eyes to the journalists’ table. It’s only six people, and they seem reasonably well taken care of. Jieun’s already been called over by more than one of her guests to be asked nonsense questions, each time having to walk precariously in her high heels and artfully bend such that her dress doesn’t ride up. Minho’s guests aren’t quite as entitled, which is probably why you don’t think you’re imagining the faint scent of whiskey from him.

Just as you think it, a fifty-something man turns and locks eyes with Jieun, raising a hand slightly. “There’s a gun in my parents’ safe in their Gangnam apartment,” she mutters from the corner of her mouth. “If I go over and this guy asks me to come closer, I want you to shoot me with it.”

“I’d rather shoot him.”

“Works either way.” Plastering on a fake yet very pretty smile, she makes her way over. Your need to find food now transcends your own hunger; you feel so bad for Jieun that you’re willing to slip out again, even if it means leaving your own guests unattended a little longer - especially when they’re nowhere near as annoying as hers.

“Hey, Minho.” You tap him on the shoulder. “Will you text me if my guests need anything?”

“Oh, sure, ‘cause it’s all about the guests.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” You slip out from the door behind the sound station, continuing to pull the hem of your dress now. It’s a normal black cocktail dress, nothing fancy. Overdressed, my arse.

You head to the lounge; it’s where normal guests go to dine. Since it isn’t dinner time yet, you’re hoping you can sneak in a couple of appetizers in a napkin. You enter the stairs, hoping to draw less attention to yourself when somehow, in a sea of coincidences, the one that finds you is in the form of Jeon Jungkook yet again, this time entering the same flight of stairs from the bottom.

“Shit,” is all he says, like he’s expecting to be scolded.

To be fair, you don’t disappoint. “What will it take for you stay in your seat, Jeon?”

There’s a momentary pause before he grins. “I could tell you but you already look pretty pissed off.”

“Seriously, dude, what the hell are you doing? Do you know there are people who can get in trouble if they lose track of you?”

He swallows, eyes narrowing slightly. “Fun as that sounds, I’m looking for food. I’m starving,” he confesses, looking a bit embarrassed.

You stare at him before sighing. “Finally, something we have in common,” you mutter. “But you know you’re a guest, right? The food being passed around in there is for you,” you inform him, trying not to sound too accusing.

“Yeah, I know.” He shifts a bit uncomfortably. “We’re not allowed to - I mean, we’re not encouraged to eat out there. Most of us put on weight in the military and we need to lose it before our comeback in a couple of months.” He sticks his tongue into the inside of his cheek again. “But I’m too fucking hungry to care right now.”

You frown, running your eyes up and down his figure, noting how perfectly fine he looks. Incredibly fine, in fact; the suit does him wonders, making his figure look tall and fit as he stands at the bottom of the stairs. Finally, you start walking down, motioning for him to join you when you pass him. “Come on, then,” you say, business-like. “Help me find the lounge.”

When you do find it, Jungkook throws the door open and begins walking straight for the buffet before you grab his arm and yank him back.

“Ow, what the -”

“You cannot be seen sneaking food from somewhere else while the event is going on,” you state firmly. “It’ll be a disaster. Stay in here and I’ll get it.”

“Get the quiche!” he whispers loudly as you walk away, ignoring him. You skim the buffet as quickly as you can, loading up a plate with two of everything and four mini quiches before scurrying back into the stairwell.

“Don’t judge me,” is all Jungkook says before reaching for the plate and placing it on a stair, loosening his tie and taking off his fancy jacket which, if you’re not mistaken, probably costs about four months’ rent. Adequately prepared, he picks up a quiche and, before you can process it, places the entire thing in his mouth and moans, sinking backwards.

You watch him in mild interest, still standing, as he slowly chews and swallows, eyes closed the entire time. When he’s finally done, he opens his eyes and gives you a lazy smile. “That was good. Thank you.”

Biting your lip, you realise you’re actually smiling. “I can tell. And I’m not judging you,” you add, taking a seat on the opposite side of the plate and pressing your thighs together.

Jungkook points at the piece of fried chicken in your hand. “I know why I’m starving. Why are you?”

“I had to fit into this dress,” you confess, “and it’s pretty skintight, so I’ve eaten nothing since breakfast.” You expect him to give you a disapproving look or make a statement about how that’s not healthy, you know. But he only frowns slightly before nodding once. You wonder if he relates.

“Don’t worry,” you say after a moment. “I never judge a good appetite. And it might be the only thing I found out about you on our date,” you remind him as you pop a fried shrimp into your mouth.

He shakes his head, reaching for a shrimp as well. “When are you going to forgive me for that?”

You eat in silence for a moment. “I already have,” you tell him, realising it’s true. “Look, it wasn’t a great night, and I was pretty pissed off the last time we spoke, mostly because you didn’t remember me for a moment there. But you were going through something, too, and… you apologised. And I accept it. There’s really not much else to it.”

“Huh.” Jungkook chews thoughtfully. “Well. Thank you, Lia.” For a few seconds, neither of you speak. “I really would like to take you out again, though,” he says softly.

You sigh inwardly. “That’s not necessary, Jungkook. Besides, I work for Hybe. I can’t be dating the talent. I’d get fired.”

He looks up, frowning. “I work for Hybe, too.”

You scoff. “Believe me, the way I work for Hybe and you work for Hybe are completely different. I can actually lose my job without breaking a million hearts and losing the company half their revenue.”

He processes this. “Then why did you say yes the first time?”

You shrug, your cheeks heating up a bit. “I was intrigued. Thought it might be worth the risk.” You look up, suddenly realising how he might interpret that but the moment to correct yourself has passed.

If Jungkook picks up on it, he doesn't say anything. "What was the worst part about the date for you?" he asks after a few seconds.

You chuckle, almost choking. "What? Why would you ask that?"

He shrugs, but there's a smile lingering on his face. "People usually ask about the best part. In this case, I feel like I should probably ask the opposite. Don't worry, you won't hurt my feelings."

You don't quite believe him. He's cute and charming - and the biceps visible through his thin white shirt are more than welcome - but he also seems… young. It's strangely endearing.

"Um…" You dust your hands to get rid of the fried chicken batter. "Actually, the worst part had nothing to do with you. It was when the waiter accidentally spilled that red wine all over me?" You tug on the edge of your dress. "This outfit you were commenting on? It's been through a lot. Washing, scrubbing, dry cleaning…" You shake your head dramatically.

"Oh, man. The dress really made it through. It looks great." There's another pause where you see his ears redden. Then -

"Wait, do you have my hoodie? Lia, I've been looking for it for months!"

You freeze mid-bite, suddenly remembering that you have Jeon Jungkook's hoodie stuffed in the bottom of your laundry hamper. "Oh… that's right, I do. Well, I'll just wash it and dry clean it and, you know. Send it to your apartment."

He bites his lip. "I - I can't give you my address. I mean, you're nice but… I don't really know you that well," he adds apologetically.

"Fair enough. I can give it to your manager. Very official."

He raises an eyebrow. "You don't want to go out with me because I'm a colleague but telling my manager we went out is no problem?"

"Okay, fine. What if I place it in a secret location and give you a code to -"

"Jesus Christ," he exhales, laughing despite himself. "There's a much easier way for you to return it… but I don't think I should bring that up right now."

"No, you shouldn't," you agree, giving him a warning look. “I bet you don’t even remember which hoodie it is.”

“It’s a brown one.”

“Too vague. What brand is it?”

“I think Fila…” He frowns as he chews. “But you know what? You can keep it if you want.”

“I don’t want,” you say forcefully. “I will return it. Once we figure out an appropriate method, of course.”

“Sure, if you insist. Although -”

“Alright, you know what? I’ll make you deal,” you interrupt him when you see where this is headed. “If you can tell me five things about me that you remember from our date, I’ll consider a second one.”

Jungkook’s eyebrows shoot up. “Really?” He looks more skeptical than surprised. “You’ll consider it?”

“Yes,” you confirm. “Five things. If and when you remember them, I’ll genuinely consider another date. Not things I’ve reminded you about after, but things I actually told you or you noticed yourself.”

He nods slowly. “Interesting. Alright, challenge accepted.”

“Sure? You might lose.”

“Oh, I don’t lose.”

You chuckle in slight disbelief. “Some might call that overconfidence.”

He shrugs. “I call it self-confidence.”

“Whatever you say,” you murmur, nudging the last of the quiche towards him. "Go on, you can have it," you tell him when he offers it to you. "You seemed to really like it."

The tips of his ears redden again and he silently picks it up, shooting you a grateful look, when you remember something. "Shit, I was supposed to take food for Jieun,” you mutter, standing up and dusting yourself off. Jungkook follows suit, picking up his jacket.

“Why? And - who’s Jieun?”

“She’s a colleague,” you answer, gathering your phone and clutch, “and she’s having a horrible night. Her guests are a pain and honestly? She deserves some of that quiche.”

“It was some good quiche,” he agrees, straightening his jacket. Both of you sneak out together and while he shuffles to the corner to deposit the plate, you return to the buffet to steal a mini quiche in a stack of napkins before both of you hurry back to the hall.

“Now, please, please, just stay in your seat?” you ask him as you both near the hall.

“What?” Jungkook gives you a mock-affronted look. “Can you honestly tell me you didn’t have a decent time sharing a plate of stolen snacks with me?”

You raise your eyebrows thoughtfully. “It was a better date than the last one,” you allow, grinning when he laughs. It’s a lovely laugh, you have to admit. “Now for the love of God, before Seulgi or anyone else sees you talking to me, go back to your seat.”

“Why can’t anyone see -”

“You ask a lot of questions, Jeon,” you inform him. “And -” You sigh and look around in the empty hallway to make sure there’s no one around before swooping up to him, pulling out his hand and placing your quiche in it. “Hold this. Your collar is all messed up…” You reach up and fix it, taking care to yank on his tie a bit when he grins at you. “Now, go.”

“What if we go in together? Just to shock people? Imagine what -”

“Absolutely not,” you interrupt him, giving him a solid push as he laughs again.

“Christ, you need to loosen up.”

“Watch it, kid. I’m three years older than you,” you remind him.

For the first time since you’ve met him, Jungkook smirks. It suddenly occurs to you how close he’s standing. “Yes, but I’m five inches taller than you… noona.”

You can feel your cheeks heat up as you hold his gaze. You weren’t sure he was even capable of eliciting such a reaction from you. Taking a deep breath, you tilt your head slightly.

“Jungkook.”

“Yes, Lia?”

“Get the fuck inside.” You ignore how he guffaws, throwing his head back as you push him towards the door with both hands; he’s built like a goddamn wall. “Go in there and don’t let me see you roaming around again,” you warn him when you can’t get any closer to the door without being seen, feeling rather like a teacher. As you go around to enter through the back door, you turn back one last time to see Jungkook about to go in the main entrance, still looking in your direction. When your eyes meet, he holds up five fingers and winks at you, grinning when you roll your eyes.

It’s a beautiful smile. And you hate it.

---

Part 2 will be up shortly. Thank you for reading my very first fic on this site and let me know what you think!

#the fifth #jungkook x oc #jungkook x lia #jungkook x reader #bts fanfiction #bts writing #bts fluff #jungkook fanfiction #bts fanfic

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sageyrage · 3 years

Text

Warm Hug

Mentions & Implications: This is a Bakugou x Fem!Reader fic. This is part of the BNHAREM collab. This month is all about our favorite blasty boi, Bakugou! Also I hope all of this makes sense. I wrote this in many parts over the past few weeks and I'm eternally distracted. So while I normally spell check and grammar check everything, this fic did not receive any of that lol. No warnings really unless you count language because let’s face it, this is about Bakugou and according to fandom, he curses. But since this a fluff, I kept it to a minimum. Also, I really suck at fluff, so if you actually like this, please let me know. I could use the serotonin and dopamine.

He watched her glide on water and come sliding to a stop, spraying water in the villain’s face. For the first time he was starstruck. How had he not noticed her before? They were in the same class together. They graduated together, right? Surely he’d trained with her at some point. So why was today the first day he actually SAW her?

She felt eyes on her. Cold, calculated, crimson. Her breath hitched and she almost lost her footing if it weren’t for the fact she remembered she was in the middle of apprehending a criminal. After the handoff to police, Y/N wondered if it actually happened. Did he really look at her? Did he finally notice her after all these years? A side glance from behind her shades told her that yes, he was most definitely looking at her.

He was angry at himself for not remembering. Affirmations about you from Kirishima solidified that you were there. You’d always been there. You’d been quiet, while he’d been loud. You’d been slow and steady, while he rushed ahead. He had Mina speak about you. She eagerly complied and caught him up on everything that made you-you.

“Did you really forget about Y/N being in our class? She hung out with everyone!” Mina laughed.

“Not with me. Tell me more about her.” He filled out paperwork as Mina chatted on, while on the opposite side of the building, Kirishima was having the exact same conversation with Y/N.

“It’s disheartening that he’s just now noticing that I exist. But that’s okay. He’s been hyper-focused on trying to be #1. No one should fault him for that.” Y/N played with the hem of her shirt before sighing and picking up the sandwich on her plate.

“He’s still a good guy, Y/N. He’s just never been good at socializing.” Kirishima took a bite of his food and downed it with a gulp of lemonade.

“Oh I know. It’s okay. I’ll just keep watching him from afar. I don’t want to give him a reason to lose his focus.

/*-+-*/

He watched her in the office. She gave him side glances on patrols. They would discreetly help each other while taking villains down. And then one Winter day he asked her to train with him.

"Oh! Oh sure, that sounds like fun!" He and Y/N made their way to a nearby facility and lost themselves in a few hours of teaching how to support the other with their quirks.

/*-+-*/

"I wanna ask her out on a date, but I don't at the same time."

Kirishima looked at his friend with confusion. "You know it's obvious that you two like each other, right? I mean... literally everyone can see it. You two spend almost every waking minute with each other. What's stopping you?"

"I really like her. I don't wanna scare her away." He rose from his place on the couch and frustratingly ran his fingers through his hair as he made his way to the oversized window.

/*-+-*/

"Can I borrow this? Mine got ripped to shreds when a villain fought me on my way home the other night." Holding up a black sweatshirt, Y/N waved it in front of Mina's face. Mina blinked in thought before breaking out into laughter and nodding. Y/N slipped it over her head, inhaling the faint scent of smoked caramel. “Thanks! I’ll keep it until I can get another one!” With a sly smile, her pink alien friend waved her off and told her not to worry about it.

The cold wind was sharp on her face when she pulled the hood over her head and inhaled. The scent calmed her like a warm hug as she hurried home. Thoughts of a spiky haired man invaded her mind, making her already pink cheeks burn. She loved the man since their first year at UA. He never looked her way, never knew she existed. But she watched him as they faced trials and tribulations as a class, as individuals, and now as heroes. What made him finally look at her? She entered the dark apartment and kicked off her boots in favor of the memory foam bunny slippers, sighing as she shuffled to her room. She fell against the pillows and plushies on her bed and fell asleep still wrapped up in the black sweatshirt, a smile on her face as visions of Bakugou invaded her dreams.

/*-+-*/

“What’s so funny?” Y/N tilted her head, looking at a giggling Mina as they entered the doors of the agency.

“Oh nothing!” Mina sang as she skipped into the room. Bakugou was already stationed at the coffee pot, glaring at it as if willing it to drip faster with the black gold. A side glance stilled his heart for a fleeting moment when he saw Y/N walk in. All smiles and sunshine next to her friend. Then he saw it. Bakugou couldn’t help but notice the familiarity of the pullover. There was a certain tear by the pocket with a singed edge. “Where did you get that sweatshirt?”

She hugged herself in the oversized sweater, “Mina let me have it, why?”

“It’s mine.”

“Oh. … OH!” Shrugging off the garment hastily, she folded it over and offered it to him, “I’m so sorry, Bakugou! I had no idea!” Keeping her eyes down, she heard a soft ‘tch’ and a shadow moving away.

“Hurry up and get changed so we can go train.”

She watched him walk away, and heard stifled laughter behind her. Turning to see Kirishima and Mina huddled together at a corner table, Y/N walked up to her friends and hissed, “What is so funny? He’s clearly upset that I have something that belongs to him!”

“Oh sweet summer child, you really are clueless, aren’t you?” Pinky beamed and grabbed Y/N’s hand. Kirishima shook his head and laughed, “He really likes you!”

Stars lit up in Y/N’s eyes as she turned in time to watch Bakugou turn the corner. “He...likes me too?” Still clutching the pullover in her arms, she quickly followed after him, only to see him enter the locker room. Turning around, she noticed the door to his office was open. She entered his room and left the sweatshirt on his desk before leaving to get ready to train.

/*-+-*/

Hours later, Bakugou walked into his office, narrowing his eyes at the black bundle on the desk. He picked it up to examine it when soft notes of jasmine and vanilla wafted up to his nose. He narrowed his eyes and tucked the shirt under his arm as he took a folder into his other hand and left the agency.

The entryway of his home lit up when he turned the key and opened the door. Kicking off shoes and padding down the hall, he deposited the jumper and folder onto the table before unwinding for the evening. Once evening chores, dinner, and paperwork were all caught up, it was time for bed. He started for his bedroom when he spied the hoodie on the table. Gingerly picking it up he took it to his bedroom and slipped into bed. Cuddling the garment close, he inhaled the vanilla jasmine scent, and all thoughts of Y/N consumed him as he fell asleep.

Bakugou walked into the agency the next morning and took notice of Y/N wearing a new sweatshirt in an ombre gray. Scoffing to himself, he poured himself a cup of coffee. “...look better in black.”

Y/N turned at Bakugou's mumbling, “Hmm? Did you say something?”

“I said you look better in black!” Narrowing his eyes he gave her a severe look and stomped out of the room to his office, slamming the door behind him. He never did see the small smile and blush that crossed her features.

/*-+-*/

Weeks of lighthearted flirting turned into months, and the cool morning of Spring kissed Y/N’s skin as she walked into the lounge room of the agency rubbing her arms for warmth. He was already pouring a cup of coffee when she came in. He cocked an eyebrow and scoffed. “It’s not even cold outside anymore.” He watched her sunshine smile as she stepped near him, only to open the refrigerator door.

“It is to me!” Y/N blushed as she hid her face on the other side of the door, before pulling out a bottle of orange juice and retreated to her office. A bundle in black was draped over her chair. It was the hoodie she had returned to Bakugou months ago. She turned the covering over her arms, the scent of caramel and smoke filling her senses, a smile of giddiness on her face.

“Just tell him already!”

Y/N jumped to find her pink friend leaned against the doorframe. “Mina! I-I can’t do that. He’s got to focus, remember? I don’t want to get in the way of him trying to achieve what he wants the most.”

Mina crossed her arms and shook her head. “You’re so dense sometimes, Y/N. He gave that back to you. He clearly likes you. And you! Your cheeks might as well be permanently pink, and you have hearts in your eyes! Everyone in this building can see how in love you are. I’ve been talking to Kirishima and he agrees with me. We’ve been watching you two flirt for a long time, and it’s agonizing! And you know what? He’s scared of asking you out. He’s afraid to run you off. You’re going to have to be the one to do it. You’re going to have to ask him out.”

Floored by the new information, Y/N sunk into her chair, clutching the hoodie close to her heart. Her mind faltered and unable to form words, she stared dumbly at her best friend. “But- I… He’s scared of running me off?”

/*-+*/

“You just left it in her office? Why didn’t you just give it to her? Everyone in this building already knows you like each other! Be manly and just tell her already, bro!” Kirishima exclaimed, zipping up his duffel bag. “You know what? If you don’t go ask her out, I will. I think she’s pretty cute and I bet we’d have a great time at this new ramen shop that just opened across the street.”

A low growl emanated from the explosion hero, “Don’t you dare.” Still in his hero uniform, Bakugou stormed out of the locker room leaving his best friend to snicker and shake his head.

/*-+-*/

Hearing a familiar stomp down the hall, Mina gleefully smiled before moving aside to allow Bakugou to enter. “I’ll see you later Y/N! I expect a call or text soon!” Mina shut the door as she waved her goodbye, leaving both heroes to stare at each other, their voices trapped from shyness.

Remembering the sweater in her arms, Y/N rose from her chair and slowly walked toward the tall blonde. “You left this for me?”

“Yeah.”

“Are we sharing this hoodie now?”

“I’m letting you borrow it. It’ll keep you warm better than that crappy one you had. It’s going to be cold tonight when we go to the ramen shop across the street.” Shoving his hands into his pockets, he turned away in an attempt to hide the slight blush that formed on his face.

Eyes enlarged with disbelief, Y/N brought the pullover up to cover the astonishment expressed on her face and mumbled, “We? Are you asking me out on a date?” Gazing up at the man before her, she couldn’t help but notice the tips of his ears were turning red. He didn’t look at her when he nodded, but once the bells of her happy voice rang out, he turned and couldn’t stop himself from smiling.

/*-+-*/

*15 YEARS LATER*

“Remember I’m going to be late tonight because Todoroki is holding a study group at his house! Hurry up Harumi, I don’t wanna be late to school because of you!”

“Sorry Raiden! Bye Mom, bye Dad! Love you!”

The door slammed and all was quiet. Y/N stuck her thumbs through the torn holes in the sleeves and started clearing the table when she heard the door of the bedroom shut. Picking up a cup of leftover orange juice, she brought it to her lips when two arms snaked around her waist and she felt a kiss on the back of her head.

“You still have that? It’s worn all to hell. Let me get you a new one.”

Y/N glanced at him mid sip. Smiling into the cup, she finished her drink, her other hand lovingly patted her husband’s arm. Finishing her drink, she wiped her mouth on the sleeve. “A new one? But this is my favorite! I plan on wearing it until it completely falls apart!”

Rolling his eyes, Bakugou peppered Y/N’s face with kisses, ignoring squeals of laughter and the playful pushes against his chest. “Move so I can help you with the dishes before we head to work.”

/*-+-*/

Filing paperwork was the best way to wind down after a long day of apprehending villains. Huddled over her desk Y/N was writing up the last report of the day when the door to her office swung open and her sweaty husband swaggered inside. She narrowed her eyes at his appearance.. Was he wearing a new pullover?

“Just got done going for a run. You ready to go home yet?” Bakugou removed the hoodie, a hint of his waning abs peeking from under his shirt. “Tch. Put those eyes back in your sockets, woman.” Holding out his hand to a giggling Y/N, he pulled her away from the desk and against him for a quick hug before leaving hand-in-hand from the agency.

A sudden breeze blew against the two, causing Y/N to rub her arms. In a side glance, she saw her husband putting on the sweater.

"Sharing is caring, now give me the sweatshirt!"

“Hell no! You chose to not bring your old piece of shit hoodie even though I said it was going to be cold tonight. Suffer the consequences, ya brat.”

“Please sweetheart? I know I should have listened this morning, and you’re right of course. I’m just so cold. You don’t want me to get sick, do you?” Her sugar sweet words twisted around his heart as she gently wrapped her arms around him and tilted her head up and batted her eyes in a most heartfelt manner. Bakugou glared at his wife and paused before grunted his displeasure. With a sigh and an eye roll it was all over. The man scoffed and shook out of the sweatshirt and slipped it over Y/N, pulling the hood over her head.

Face flushed red, the towering blonde pillar looked anywhere but at her. “Dammit woman, why do you do this to me? Next time listen to me and don’t be so stubborn. You’re lucky I love you.”

Enveloped in the warm hug scented of woodsy caramel, she pulled the oversized sleeves over her hands and cupped the tall hero’s cheeks and turned him to face her, “I am the luckiest girl in the world, aren’t I? Thank you for my new hoodie. I love you.”

Lowly growling at the woman before him, Bakugou cocked a brow before breaking out into a smile, shaking his head. “You’re ridiculous, woman, tricking me like that. I love you too. Now let’s get home and have some quiet time before those brats get home.” Putting his arm around her shoulders, he pulled her against him and felt Y/N’s arms wrap around him. He smiled against her hooded head as she giggled and together they walked, their steps in sync toward home.

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bakugou katsuki #bakugo katsuki #bakugo #bakugou #kastuki #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki fic #bakugou katsuki imagines

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talatomaz · 3 years

Text

defenceless | jj x fem!teen!reader

a/n: i’ve been rewatching criminal minds and i can’t believe it’s been a year since i last wrote for jj. and i have no idea where this came from.

(feedback/positive comments are appreciated)

warnings: major references to blood/being stabbed. mentions of assault

word count: 2.7k

masterlist | request list | request rules

r is jj’s 19 year old adopted daughter and gets victimised after stopping an unsub from assaulting someone

i do not give you permission to repost or translate my fics on any platform - likes/reblogs are okay and are much appreciated

“Morning, baby.”

You smiled when your Mum came up behind you and softly kissed your head.

“Morning, Mum. I made you some breakfast.”

You said, pouring coffee into the seasoned profiler’s ‘No.1 Mom’ mug that you’d gotten for her several years ago.

You’d gifted it to her on the first Mother’s Day you had with her after she adopted you. And she used it that morning and every morning since.

“God, what’d I do to deserve a daughter like you?”

JJ said proudly as she dug into her breakfast, happily munching on a piece of toast as she looked through her case file. Whatever dark, horrific crime she and her team were investigating simplified down to a few pages in that brown file.

“Busy day?” You asked, leaning against the kitchen counter, staring across at her.

“You have no idea. I’ve been up for a few hours trying to compile some notes on this case we’re working. Young, relatively low-risk, women are being raped in alleyways and there are no witnesses.”

She explained as she continued to eat whilst scribbling shorthand notes on a notepad.

“Any ideas on who you’re looking for yet?”

She hummed in answer. Swallowing her food, she replied, “Yeah, I think we have a preliminary profile that we want to release to the public later today.”

Pouring the rest of her coffee into a travel cup, she put her files in her bag and placed it on the counter you were resting against.

“You got class today?”

You were studying criminology, wanting to follow in your mother’s footsteps and become a profiler.

Nodding, you answered, “Yeah, then some of my friends and I are gonna head to the mall. And yes, I’ll message you constantly, so you know.”

You added when your mother opened her mouth to presumably ask that very question.

“Thanks, sweetie. Whoever our unsub is, he’s targeting women your age and considering he’s probably here right now, I need to know you’re safe.”

“I know, Mum. Now go, you don’t want to be late for work. Hotch only lets you be late once, you know.” You smirked.

“Yes, I know. Bye, y/n. I love you.” Your mother mirrored your expression and kissed your cheek.

“I love you too.” You replied, handing your Mum her keys and you watched her leave as the white door closed gently behind her.

***

“Maybe just call him out on it and see what he says?”

You suggested to your friend, Kerri, after she explained her boyfriend troubles to you and your other friend, Ally.

“I mean, the worst that could happen is-”

You stopped mid-sentence when you heard a muffled scream. Furrowing your brows, you walked closer to where the sound came from; an alleyway behind an old warehouse.

Remembering your mother’s earlier profile, you whispered to your friends, “Stay behind me.”

“Y/N, what is it?”

“Not sure.”

Inching around the corner, you saw two figures behind a dumpster. The smaller figure, who appeared to be a blonde female, was struggling against the male standing over her.

“Hey! Get away from her!”

Shouting, you ran up to the two and watched as the man’s head whipped around to face you before he darted off, jumping over a fence.

Approaching the woman, you saw she was half naked and had blood seeping from her nose.

“Oh god. Call 911, she’s been assaulted.” You said quickly to your friends who stood behind you, shocked at what they had just witnessed.

Hearing Kerri following your instructions, you took off the jacket you were wearing and wrapped it around the exposed girl.

“H-He tried to r-r-”

Unable to form the words, the girl started to sob at her ordeal.

“I know. It’s okay, honey. What’s your name?” You asked, speaking quietly to try to calm her as if she was a spooked animal.

“A-Annie.” She choked out as she tugged your jacket closer around her.

“Annie, you’re safe now. He can’t hurt you.”

The former began to sob harder and fell against your chest. Wrapping one arm around her, you used the other to take out your phone to call your Mum.

“Shh, it’s okay, Annie. You’re okay.” You said, soothing the distraught girl who was currently crying her heart out against you.

“Hey, y/n, what’s up?”

After quickly explaining what had just transpired, JJ told you and your friends to remain where you were since you were all witnesses and that she’d be there soon.

“You did good, babygirl.”

Morgan said, handing you a cup of coffee.

You were currently sitting at your mother’s desk at the BAU, having already given your statement to both local police and your Mum’s team at the crime scene. Emily and Spencer had driven your friends home whilst you came with your Mum to her work - she refused to leave you alone, even though you’d argued that it was still daylight and you’d be fine.

You didn’t reply, deciding to sip the hot drink, wincing when it burned your tongue.

“He’s right, y/n. Most people probably wouldn’t have heard anything.”

You glanced up at your Mum who stood above you, her hand resting on your shoulder.

“What will happen now? To the unsub, I mean. I interrupted him so he never managed to rape Annie.”

“He’ll probably try to hurt someone else.”

You turned to face Hotch as he approached you and the rest of his team.

“I just got off the phone with the hospital. They’ve discharged Annie into the care of her parents. She wanted me to tell you ‘thank you’.”

“I’m glad she’s okay. Physically anyways. So, you think he’ll get sloppy? Since he never got to...finish, he’s probably going to be antsy right? He might make a mistake?” You asked, hopeful that your Mum would catch him soon.

“More than likely. He’s definitely going to be angry, especially since we’ve just released the profile along with the sketch you helped us with, y/n.” Hotch answered, a gleam of pride in his eyes.

“Anything I could do to help,” you replied.

Standing up, you faced your Mum, “I think I’m going to go home. I’m kind of exhausted.”

“I’ll drive you h-”

“It’s okay,” you interrupted your Mum, “you’re busy here and you’ve got a lot of work to do. Besides, it’s only mid-afternoon so I’ll be fine. I-I just need some air.” You said, your voice faltering when you felt tears forming.

Clearing your throat, you held back your emotions and kissed your Mum on her cheek, “I’ll message you when I get home.”

“Okay, baby. I’m proud of you.”

The tall blonde hugged you close to her which you returned with as much ferocity, her hands stroking your hair as she cradled your head against her.

Bidding your goodbyes to the rest of the team, you left the federal building.

“JJ, you okay?” Morgan asked.

JJ had heard the emotion in your voice and though she was proud to have seen you comforting the most recent victim, it had hurt her heart to see what came after the ambulance drove away with an injured Annie in the back.

Once you’d given your statement and described the unsub to her and her team, she’d followed you to her old vacant office from her media liason days where you’d broken down.

She had watched you hold yourself together by a thread all throughout the questioning but had known that the adrenaline high would crash soon. And you quite literally did crash. In her arms, the moment she had closed the door behind her.

She had fought back her own tears as she gathered you into her arms, soothing you as you did earlier with Annie.

She’d tried as hard as she could to keep you away from her world.

She didn’t want you to be exposed to any more darkness than you’d already experienced when you were younger, before you’d met her.

“JJ?”

The blonde blinked, breaking away from her thoughts to stare back at the rest of the team.

“She did good, JJ.” Morgan repeated as JJ simply nodded, not knowing what to say.

***

Taking out your phone, you sent a message to your group chat with Kerri and Ally, wanting to make sure they were okay.

After receiving replies from the both of them confirming that they were fine and just a bit shaken up, you placed your phone back in your pocket.

Sighing, you continued walking down the relatively empty street; the majority of people either at work or school, unaware of what had happened just a few hours earlier.

You thought about Annie and later crying in your Mum’s arms. You didn’t even know why you did. Spencer probably would have given you some fact about adrenaline crashes but you shook your head, feeling self-conscious.

There was no need for you to break down like that.

All it achieved was your Mum being worried about you which was the last thing you wanted because it meant she’d be distracted from doing her job. Catching this asshole.

Hands in your pockets, you felt the bright sun shine down on your face.

Stopping for a brief moment, you glanced up at the sky, and allowed yourself to breathe.

As you were about to carry on walking, you felt a harsh grip on your arm pull you into an abandoned parking lot.

You thrashed against the strong hold, the self-defence skills your Mum taught you kicking in.

Stomping on the large figure’s foot, you smirked at the grunt of pain that fell from his lips. Then you elbowed them in their stomach and threw your head back into theirs. Hearing more shouts of pain, you started to run before you were roughly pushed against a brick wall.

Your breaths came out in heavy pants and your eyes widened as you stared into familiar eyes.

It was the unsub.

He held himself tight against you, pulling a switchblade from his pocket and into your view. Your eyes flickered from the sharp blade to his eyes. They were filled with fury as blood dripped from his nose - from when you’d head butted him.

“Good. So you recognise me.” His voice was hoarse, as if he’d swallowed a bunch of nails.

“What do you want?” You spat out, refusing to show any indication of fear to him.

“You ruined the other girl for me. But you seem like a challenge. I like that.”

Pressing the knife against your neck, he used his free hand to undo his belt.

You barely controlled the terror that threatened to rise through your body. Instead, you tried to focus on the pressure of his weapon, waiting for a slight reprieve where you could make your move to escape.

That moment came when he unzipped his trousers.

The pressure lightened for a few seconds which was all you needed.

Grabbing his wrist, you twisted the knife away from you and kneed him in the groin. Pushing him away, you stumbled, trying to escape.

But he was quick on his feet.

He swiftly picked up the knife that had fallen to the floor and thrust it into your stomach.

You groaned, the pain unlike anything you had ever experienced before. Your hand instinctively went to your stomach as blood started to coat your clothing.

You slumped down the wall as the unsub crouched down, sneering at you, “Bitch.”

Tapping the ground behind you, you felt a piece of broken glass in your fingers. Gripping it tightly, you gathered all your strength and plunged it into his neck.

He yelled out, his hand going to the glass that was still in his flesh.

Recognising what he was about to do, you clambered to your feet and watched as he pulled the shard, of what appeared to be from a broken beer bottle, out of his skin. Blood splatted all over the wall that you had been against, just moments before.

Blood continued to seep out from your wound.

You took off your jacket - the one you had previously wrapped around Annie - and pressed it against your skin. You groaned at the white hot pain that seared through your skin.

Knowing you were only down the street from the Quantico building, you took out your phone and called your Mum as you walked, as well as you could in your condition, back to the federal building.

“You home already?”

“M-Mum, c-come outside. I-I need you.” You choked out, trying to steady your breathing.

“Y/N? Are you okay?”

You could hear her shouting to the rest of her team before she continued to talk into the phone.

You made it to the entrance of the federal building but you were too overcome with exhaustion and you felt yourself drop to the floor.

You could hear shouts from the people around you as they watched blood pool around you.

“Oh my god. Y/N!”

You heard your Mum yell as she fell to your side, pressing her hands heavily against your wound.

You barely heard as Hotch called 911, stating his name and rank and urged for an ambulance to be sent immediately.

You struggled to keep your eyes open as you looked up at your Mum.

“Come on, baby. Stay awake for me.” JJ begged, tears carelessly running down her face.

“It hurts, Mum.”

“I know, baby. I know. But you’re strong. Stay with me. How’d this happen?”

JJ knew the only way to keep you awake was to continue talking so your brain could still remain active.

“H-He’s dead. He attacked me. I-In a car park. Down there.”

You weakly raised your hand and pointed towards the direction you had come from.

“Good girl. Just stay with me. You’re going to be okay. Y/N? Y/N!”

JJ screamed when she watched your eyes flutter closed as you lost consciousness.

***

“Woah, y/n. It’s just me.”

JJ said quickly when you jumped as she came up behind you to kiss your head.

It had been a few weeks since you’d been stabbed.

You’d woken up in a hospital, hooked up to all sorts of machines monitoring your heart rate. Your eyes had fallen on your mother who, once she saw you were awake, started to cry and hug you close to her. That then made you start crying and the two of you were just a pile of tears as you clung to each other.

After the tears had stopped and the doctors had checked up on you, JJ had told you that they’d found the unsub in a parking lot a few blocks from the BAU.

A couple of days after, you’d been discharged from the hospital. Your mother had stayed by your side up until this week when you had urged her to go back to work.

That had led you to now. She’d just arrived home from work and you hated that you were still on edge after your attack, despite your Mum telling you it was normal.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, honey.” JJ said softly as she came to sit beside you on the sofa.

You both sat in silence for a few moments before you spoke, your voice coming out in a whisper.

“I’m scared, Mum.”

You felt her eyes on you as she spoke, “Scared? He’s dead, y/n. He can’t hurt you.”

“I know, I just-In that moment when I fought him, I was so defenceless. And I’m scared of what will happen the next time I can’t defend myself.”

You continued, tears welling in your eyes as you stared ahead, unable to face your mother.

“Y/N,” JJ gently turned your face so she could look into your eyes.

“Am I defenceless?”

You blinked, having not expected that question. “What? No.”

“Exactly. I’m not. But I felt like it after I was kidnapped and tortured a few years ago. It’s normal to feel like that, y/n. But it’ll pass. I can promise you that.”

“It’s like I can feel him stabbing me over and over again.” You choked out, failing to force your tears back down.

“Oh, baby.”

JJ gently pulled you to her as she wrapped her arms around your body. She cradled your head against her chest as you clung to her arms, now sobbing.

“I got you, y/n. You’re safe. I got you.” She repeated, soothing you as you continued to cry.

Still hugging you against her, she kissed your head,

“As long as you have me, you’ll never be defenceless.”

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blackspoon99 · 3 years

Text

The Empty Hearse Pt. 3

Sherlock x Female! Reader

TW: Mentions of Death and Blood

Part 1

Part 2

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Monday - 12:26 pm

Meanwhile, you were meeting up with Mary for lunch to congratulate her on the engagement. A simple lunch with a friend seemed mundane compared to what had just happened. It was a welcome change from the ludicrousness of having an old friend literally come back from the dead. Mary truly had been a breath of fresh air since Sherlock had died left. She was one of the people who had helped lift you out of that dark place. You were selfishly thrilled that the engagement meant she had a more permanent future in your life as well as John’s.

You walked into the café to find her already waiting for you at a table near the window.

“Oh Mary, congratulations!” you cried as she pulled you into a hug. “You and John are just made for each other. I can’t imagine anyone better, truly, I can’t”

The lunch began with you and Mary discussing the early plans for the wedding, whether she should get married in May or June, possible venues, and other pleasantries. Mary really had wanted to know one thing from you since you arrived, and she was getting tired of waiting. Finally, she let out a groan and interrupted you just as you were giving your two cents about wedding flowers.

“I’m sorry Y/n, but enough stalling. I have to ask. How are you? You know, after Sherlock?”

“Mary, I love you, but can’t we just enjoy lunch without talking about him? He’s not my whole life you know… well not anymore.” You mumbled the last part.

“I know, it’s just that John used to talk about how happy you were back in those days. I’ve never brought it up before because I was respecting your boundaries but now that you have the chance to get even some of that happiness back…” She gently reached across the table and placed her hand on yours. “I just can’t keep my mouth shut anymore.”

“I don’t know Mary. How is anyone supposed to be okay after something like this? I don’t really know what to feel.” You looked up at your friend and your face softened. You knew Mary meant well. “Maybe you’re right Mary. I can’t deny I was happy during that time with John and Sherlock. But my life back then was…ugh I’m trying to find a better phrase than ‘downright mad’!”

Mary let out a light laugh. “I’ve only ever heard about it from John, but it seems like it. Why don’t you tell me a little about it? Please? John’s not one for details.”

It had always been hard to talk about the happy memories because of the nature of Sherlock’s death. Although you were the most confused about your emotions around Sherlock than you had ever been, it couldn’t hurt. “I suppose I could indulge you in a few stories”

You sat in the café and recounted some of your favorite memories with Sherlock. A particular favorite of yours was the first time John invited you over for tea after you’d met him through a mutual friend. Sherlock had burst through the door covered head to toe in blood carrying a harpoon. Later, you’d learn the blood wasn’t human, but it was still quite an eventful first meeting.

Mary watched as you spoke with more light in your eyes than she’d seen as long as she’d known you. This was a new person altogether. Mary decided then and there that she would do whatever she could to bring the happiness back to you. She tried to conceal a knowing smile as she realized she’d witnessed two people coming back to life in a single week.

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Monday 4:24 pm

Later that afternoon, you returned to work. Even though it didn’t pay too well, you loved working in a bookshop. The perks were many: the quiet, your favorite café being just across the street, and all the books you could want at a generous employee discount. Today, a new shipment of bestsellers had arrived, so you spent most of the day sorting, organizing, and reading the first chapters of some of the books while the owner wasn’t looking.

You were struggling with a full box of books when you heard the bell at the door ring. “Welcome! Let me know if I can help you find anything!” you yelled over your shoulder in the general direction of the customer. As you turned around, a corner of the enormous box clipped a bookshelf, and the box went tumbling sideways. Before the books could come clattering to the floor, someone caught the other side.

“Need some help?”

You looked up to see none other than Sherlock Holmes, large as life, dramatic wool coat and all.

“This isn’t space, Sherlock,” you said coolly, yanking the box back and moving around him.

Sherlock caught up to you and reached his arm out and leaned against the wall in front of you, blocking your path. “Have dinner with me”

“What?”

“Come on, have dinner with me, y/n.” He flashed you the smile that always made you melt

You sighed and placed the box on a nearby table. Your heart felt heavy all of the sudden. You knew you part of you still wanted to. You knew an even bigger part of you felt the same way for Sherlock as you always had. But whenever you looked at him, all the good memories of him were mixed in with the pain you’d felt when he left. You wanted to separate them, to forget everything and give in, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to.

“I can’t Sherlock, I’m sorry”

“Why not?”

“I told you I needed space. I need more time, Sherlock. You didn’t listen to me.”

“I don’t understand. I thought we were alright.”

Sherlock looked like a kicked puppy. Although his face was still calm, you had learned to see through his exterior years ago. You knew he didn’t fully understand why you were rejecting him. Suddenly you felt guilty.

“I know, and we are, it’s just-” You turned your head away as it had suddenly become difficult to meet his gaze. “You jumped off a building, Sherlock. Then you let me believe you were dead for 2 years. You don’t understand what that does to a person.”

Sherlock stood in silence. His features were slightly contorted. You could feel your face beginning to heat up. Why did this hurt so much?

“I still care about you, Sherlock. But as much as I want them to, things can’t just go back to the way they were. At least not yet.” You tried to give him a sympathetic smile. “I can’t forgive you right now, but I promise I will try.”

“Well, if not dinner, how about chips? I know a place.”

You laughed in spite of yourself “You never did know when to give up, did you?”

“Come on, I’ve got a terror threat on. No better time for chips, the world is ending.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about”

“Want to find out?”

He got you. “Fine. After my shift, I’ll come and meet you at Baker Street. Let’s give it a try.”

“Looking forward to it.” Sherlock turned to leave.

A warm feeling spread through your chest. Little by little, the good was coming back. It was more hope than you’d had in a while. You decided that you were looking forward to it too.

A/N: I indulged my own escapism fantasies and made y/n work in a bookstore. In another life…

The rest of this fic will probably be a mix of actual scenes from season 3 with some made-up ones like these

Taglist: @the-chaotic-cow @amoeebaa

(I also apparently didn’t know how to properly tag people on Tumblr. Sorry taglist friends it should work now)

#Sherlock Holmes #Sherlock #bbc sherlock #sherlockxreader #sherlock imagine #sherlock x reader #sherlock x you #sherlock holmes x you #Sherlock Holmes x Reader

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fandom-monium · 4 years

Text

Alive Together - Day 1

Summary: Welcome to the Monsterpocalypse. You’re a lone wanderer trying to survive. Until you meet Joel Dawson and Boy.

WC: 4k

Tag/Warnings: light themes of death and grief?? Cursing but minimal. Slow burn. Enemies to friends to lovers?

AN: MEET CUTE? NO. MEET UGLY.

(Entry 2#3#)

Hungry. I have nothing else to report today except that I, (Your Name), am starving. Grilled spiders and roasted centipedes are starting to get old.

I've mentioned it before and I'll do it again, but I miss home cooked meals. Even Dad's shoddy attempts at recreating Mom's recipes. The last time I think was… nevermind.

It hurts; I barely remember the last time I had dinner with Dad, much less Mom, flashes of the memories I have left blurring. Probably from the tears. I used to cry at the slightest thought of Mom and then Dad. Now my heart clenches whenever I try because I shouldn't have to try to remember my own family. Believe it or not, it’s progress.

Maybe it's my fault. I hadn't bothered to snag any mementos that reminded me of them before fleeing the bunker, like an album or something. There weren't many personal items that they'd given me, now that I think about it. Too much clutter, the Captain said.

Or maybe it's the lack of consistent stimulus to my brain. I can't read as much as I'd like to, mainly because it's too dangerous to be distracted (constant vigilance is an important virtue in this world, if you hadn’t noticed). Most books that I've stumbled across (literally, I tripped over a hill of hardcovers. Not fun. Very painful) were either tattered or worn beyond comprehension, destroyed by rain or monster attacks.

Speaking of, my stomach grumbled. I need to start hunting before it gets dark... and before I attract another monster to myself. Again.

-(Your Name) (Your Last Name)

Day 1 - First Impressions

You shut the journal as an ominous roar thunders in the distance. Heart in your throat, you’re already on your feet, shoving the book into your pack and gathering the rest of your things. Once you’re certain there’s no trace left of you on the roof, you gaze at the neighborhood below, shielding your eyes as you scan for signs of alerted monsters.

Greenery and ruins go on for miles, unperturbed.

It’s high noon, rays of sunlight seeping through the clouds and warming your exposed skin. A gust of wind brushes your face and hair, and you suppress a smile. It’s not everyday the weather is this nice, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d relish in it.

Good thing you do know better.

You trace your path to the hills. The town is a maze of torn down buildings and overgrowth, winding roads littered with abandoned houses and wrecked vehicles, and, of course, hidden monsters. There’s only a couple hours before nightfall, and you’re far from your destination.

Better start walking. You’ve wasted enough time.

You climb down the side of the dilapidated house, dropping to the ground with a thump. If there’s one thing you’ve learned since the start of the apocalypse, it’s that residential areas harbored the most monsters, aside from the cities. Too many alcoves perfect for nesting. It’s safer away from the old world.

Safer, not safe.

You keep to the shadows, avoiding the open whenever you can despite the barren streets, darting between urban remnants. Your heart eventually settles as you scan your surroundings like anything and everything will pounce on you the second you let your guard down. By the time you cross the residential area and asphalt roads bleed into dry fields (from years of neglect, you somberly note), the sun has crept out from behind the clouds and the sky is clear blue.

You find a barn after hours of trudging through shrubs and your sore feet. It looms at the top of the hill leading to a dense forest, tall enough that as you step into its shadow it blocks out the sun. Walking closer, you tense as you scrutinize the place, eyes combing over the immediate vicinity.

Nothing. Nothing moves or breathes. You don’t see or hear a peep. Not from the barn or the woods beyond. It’s completely isolated from the nearby town, a perfect fort.

Or a nest.

You huff; shit like this has happened one too many times and you’d be a fool if you haven’t learnt your lesson by now. You pull out your javelin and approach with caution, leaves and grass crunching under your boots as you take in the chipped paint and boarded up windows, steadily making your way around the decrepit building. You frown at the clear deterioration, unable to spot any visible breaches.

Reaching the front of the barn, you gaze warily at the lone entrance. Tall doors ajar, old boards are still nailed across the slim gap or hanging precariously. As if someone or something pried them off, busted through.

In or out, you can’t tell.

For a moment, you weigh your options. You doubt the place had anything to offer, pillaged long before you stumbled upon it. Hell, there’s probably a monster nesting somewhere inside, or a bunch of monster eggs.

But you need food, supplies, rest. Are you willing to risk your life on the small chance this rickety barn can provide those things?

You stare down the the opening and it stares back, deceptively innocent. But it’s mocking you, you can hear it. Just daring you to walk away.

You shuffle on aching feet, making your clothes rub against your sweaty skin.

As if on cue, your stomach growls.

Groaning, you adjust your grip on the spear before ducking inside.

You let your eyes adjust to the dark interior. Light seeps through the rotted ceiling and cracks from the boarded windows, enough that you don’t need a flashlight to see the place is deserted. You glance around the huge room, javelin ready as you wait with bated breath, ears straining to hear over your pounding heartbeat.

Nothing. You don’t hear anything, except the trees rustling outside. Nothing shifts or darts out of sight. No signs of life, not even eggs (that you can see).

It doesn’t mean you're clear, but it’s a start.

Biting your lip, you take a careful step, and another and another, your eyes sweeping the room as you tread over straw and debris. You pause mid-step when you catch a pulley system attached to the ceiling. It’s dark, but you recognize its outline. Frowning, you trace its small, thin woven ropes as they split in different directions against the ceiling and walls, hitting and crossing the floor until they disappear under a thick layer of hay.

You raise your foot, gently kicking away the straw. You step back.

A net. A decent sized one by the width of the patch of hay.

You sigh, shoulders dropping in relief. If you hadn’t been cautious you’d never have noticed it.

You make your rounds quickly as you check for resources. At this point, it’s muscle memory for you as you move through the room with silent purpose, efficient and controlled. You dig through every storage unit, every container, pulling open cabinets and drawers, tearing through the floor with precision as you toss aside rusted tools and empty cans, a pit burning in your stomach. You snarl, throwing down another torn rag. It hits the floor with a thud.

You knew this would happen. You know the chances, but after all this time you still feel the crushing disappointment? You let out a shaky breath, nostrils flaring as you attempt to quell your frustration.

You can practically hear your mother snap at you. Don’t let your emotions get the better of you, (Your Nickname), unless you want to die, her stern voice echoes. You unclench your teeth with a sigh.

It doesn’t take long, your anger simmering down with each exhale, and when you’re sure you’re calm enough, you resume your initial task: scavenging the barn. Is it a waste of time and energy? Yes. Will you find anything useful? Unlikely. Are you going to try anyway?

You head for the stairs to the hayloft. Even if there seems to be nothing left, you need to make sure.

A few minutes later, you're sifting through another trunk when a yelp cuts across the dusty air, followed by the shrill sound of grinding metal. You startle, hissing as you bang your head against the trunk lid. Pushing down the throbbing pain, you snatch your spear and clamber down the stairs, stumbling forward as your eyes darting around the dust drifting in the air. Something barks over you and you look up.

Huh. Did not expect that.

You were prepared for a snarling, limb crushing insect. Or maybe a triple jawed mammal. Even a mega-pig. You’ve seen enough of those and managed.

But a dog? More specifically, a dog caught in the net you barely avoided. It’s tangled in the ropes suspended just above your head, gently swaying. It seems it does not care for the swinging because it starts barking again, louder and more urgent than before.

“Ah, poor doggy,” you croon, lowering your weapon. To your surprise, the dog stops and jerks to face you, its dark eyes gleaming in the shadows. You eye the seemingly calm animal. “Now, how did you get here? Were you following me?”

The dog whines, squirming in a sad attempt to escape. Your lips quirk up. Aside from the occasional bird, you haven’t seen a normal animal in what feels like forever, much less a dog. Most regular animals were consumed by monsters or by people for food.

Food. You haven’t eaten.

You study the dog; its dark brown fur, sleek and short, its body small⎼almost medium sized, with pointed ears and a long snout. And by the way it looks at you, it has some intelligence.

Your stomach grumbles, and the creature cocks its head at you, ears forward.

Shit.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” you grimace at the dog, adjusting your hold before aiming the tip at it. “It’s nothing personal, okay? I’m hungry, and you’re the first thing I’ve seen that hasn’t tried to kill me in a while.”

Which isn’t a lie. Hunting is crazy difficult these days. But you swallow as your eyes meet, its stare unwavering like you aren’t pointing a weapon at his little body. Just one motion and you could end its life painlessly (lucky bastard), but your knuckles go white and you grip falters. Why are you hesitating now?

The dog, as if sensing your battle, barks again, this time more composed than panicked, as if trying to communicate with you. You’re grateful you can’t speak Dog. It’s probably saying something like ‘No, you’re better than this’ or ‘Please don’t do this’ or⎼

“Put him down!”

Or that.

Dear Aimee,

Guess what?

I got a dog! And he’s the coolest, his name is Boy.

He saved my life from a giant frog in a pool who tried to eat me with his tongue, and then we hung out in his bus! Man, do we make a great team. We found out that we have a ton in common too. I feel like we can talk about anything.

You gotta see us out here; we’re like this iconic duo. I don’t know, feels like when we’re together, we’re unstoppable.

“Right, Boy? Boy?” Joel glances at his side, doing a double take. The dog’s gone. His shoulders slump, “Of course, the first friend I’ve made outside and he leaves me. Sounds about right.”

He didn’t think he could gain and lose a friend within the span of two days. This has to be some kind of record.

He jerks when he hears Boy’s faint barking, guiding him as he drags himself back to the old barn they just passed. For good reasons. The decaying barn looks like it’s in need of a new contractor and a paint job… or three. And an exterminator.

God, the surface is terrifying.

Gulping down his dread, Joel crouches to peer through the gaping hole in the wall. This must be where Boy came through. “Whatcha got there?”

The barking ceases, and so does Joel’s heart.

You stand in the dark like an apparition, back turned to him so he can’t make out your features. Your attention is fixed on the shadowed lump hanging over you, and while it’s dark and he doesn’t have a good vantage point, Joel’s mouth goes dry as he seeks out Boy.

Boy woofs again, and Joel’s heart drops. You step closer to the lump.

For a split second, he sees a flash of his mother’s face, her tears streaming down her cheeks.

He doesn’t think; no thoughts, head empty. Blood roars in his ears. His hands tremble. But he doesn’t hesitate, ripping the makeshift crossbow from his back as he scrambles under the opening.

“Put him down!”

He’s not entirely sure what he expects. He’s read enough comic books to understand the situation; the hero drops in to save damsel in distress then proceeds to demolish the bad guys. Technically, he has the upper-hand here. Right?

But realization slams into him. It knocks the air out of him, and he forgets to breathe.

He shouldn’t have barged in like an idiot. He isn’t a hero. He’s nothing like the superheroes in comics and movies and graphic novels. He doesn’t have super strength or speed or highly advanced tech and he sure as hell is not a genius.

What he does have: a freezing problem.

He’s already lost feeling in his hands, and he almost drops the weapon as you look over your shoulder at him.

On the other hand, you have a pretty clear idea before you face your captor (seeing him now, can you even consider him that?). With the apocalypse, governments crumbled with ease along with laws and morals, so it’d make sense for people to disregard them. You’ve met quite a few… characters, and you’ve chalked it up to these main categories; garbage thieves, sleazy scavengers, and shitty thugs.

In short, humans are selfish creatures. Prepare for the worst.

You’ve thrown down, fought dirty, bartered with them all and still managed to come out on top, the scars across your body a constant reminder. Nothing surprises you at this point.

A fumbling boy though? You mask your amusement, raising an eyebrow as you take him in. The guy, tall and disheveled, blocks the only exit out of this godforsaken place, his red jacket rumpled and dusty like he’s fallen one too many times. However, what nearly sends you is, as he steps further into the light, you bite your lip, his eyes round and small lips pressed together as the crossbow quakes in his hands.

Who let this puppy out of their sight?

“Listen, buddy,” You finally speak, making Joel flinch. Your eyes narrow as his fingers jerk on the trigger. That’s not good. “If you’re gonna point that thing at me, you better know how to use it.”

He sucks in air, clearing his throat as his eyes dart between Boy and you. He cringes when his voice comes out octaves higher than he expected, “Let Boy go.”

“’Boy’?” You glance up, your weapon still raised at the squirming little fellow. “Oh, you mean Dinner?”

“You were gonna eat him?”

You shrug. “Maybe. Depends how this goes.”

“Okay,” Joel swallows, a futile attempt to keep his tone even as nausea sprouts in him. You plan to eat Boy? How can someone eat something so cute? “Let him go, and we’ll leave you alone. How ‘bout that?”

Beads of sweat drip down his temple as his breaths come out shuddered. He’s not used to this; he’s gone from being the chef of his colony to making demands, negotiating with a possible psycho. He never trained for this! Well, he’d never been trained, period.

What if he says the wrong thing and sets you off, hurting Boy in the process? He might faint⎼no⎼he will faint. He doesn’t think his heart can handle losing more people… or animals. How is he supposed to save Boy? His fingers twitch against the trigger.

You don’t miss it.

“I don't know about that,” You reply, studying him. His hands tremble as they clutch the weapon. He may not be a scavenger or a thief, but that just makes him all the more unpredictable. Goons, you’d expect them to shoot first, ask questions later, but the fact this guy is making an effort to talk? You want to know his angle, his intentions.

Whether it’s good or bad.

“I’m hungry. It’s going to be dark soon, and Boy here,” You jerk your head at the canine, “was unlucky enough to fall into this ol’ trap.”

You watch, withholding a sneer as emotions and thoughts flit across Joel’s face like an open book. It seems a lightbulb goes off because he looks back at you, eyes wide and hopeful. “You want food? I have some in my backpack. If I give it to you, you let him go?”

He tries not to squirm, the little courage he has waning as your eyes bore into him.

“…Put the crossbow and the bag down. Slowly.”

“You too.” You tilt your head curiously as Joel stutters, “Your spear⎼I mean, if you could stop pointing it at my dog. Please.”

Your brows shoot up. Since the moment he entered⎼wait⎼floundered in here, he could not have made it more obvious that he has no idea what he’s doing. If it wasn’t the way he carried that exposed him, it was definitely his facial expressions, and if not his face, you can hear it trickle through the cracks in his voice. Yet despite how unfair the situation is for him, he’s trying to cover his terror. Failing miserably but trying. All for this cute, little doggy.

And he said please. You ignore the way it warmed you, his tone so…. genuine.

Manners, sincere or not, in the face of danger? You have to respect that.

“It’s a javelin, actually, but I agree to your terms.” Your grip slackens. He might be a wimp, but you have to give it to him. He’s got balls.

A flicker of relief crosses his face, and you both comply with your instructions. In spite of his obvious fear, you roll your eyes as he unzips his bag unnecessarily slower than you meant him to, throwing you a look.

On second thought, he’s either really brave or really stupid. It’s fifty-fifty at this point.

Joel pulls out an aluminum can. It glints in the light as he holds it up and tosses it to you. You catch it easily, inspecting it in your hands.

“Now will you let my dog go⎼Boy!” His scream tears through the barn.

You’re already composed. Uncoiling like a snake, you seize your spear and swing, all in one motion. He lunges for you, but you’re too far. He hits the ground.

Groaning in pain, he berates himself. He should have known; they had no reason to trust each other, so of course this stranger, this psycho, would betray him. He tries to brush it off, the false sense of security dissipating, the relief replaced with crushing betrayal and horror.

This is what the surface is like? His chest clenches. He can’t breath, but this isn’t like when he freezes up on a monster. At least, not those monsters. This is worse. So much worse.

The net rips, then a pained grunt. Joel shields his eyes, burying his face in his hands as tears trail down his dirt-smudged cheeks. His heart thunders in his ears as he prepares for the inescapable sound of Boy’s pained yelps, the squelch of metal piercing flesh. He chokes down a sob.

He only knew Boy for less than two days, but within that timespan he bared his soul to the animal. He probably knew him better than his own colony. In the short time they had together, he became his best friend⎼

Okay, ew. What is licking him?

“Boy?” Joel groans, flinching away as the dog bombards him with wet kisses. “Wait, you’re not dead?”

You step into the light, javelin in hand as you snort, “Of course not. Did you think I was gonna kill him?”

Yes. Joel sits up and cradles Boy to his chest, gawking at you.

You glare at him, almost offended. “I’m not a monster.”

No. No you are not.

Decked in a faded blue jacket, you stand relaxed, spear perched over your shoulder (or a jav⎼java-something). Your eyes glint in the sunlight like steel, hard and piercing, with dark circles under them. You watch him with a slight frown. And like him, there’s smudges of dirt on your face and clothes, but you manage to make it look cool and purposeful.

You don’t look like a monster, but you kind of acted like one. Joel is conflicted.

He opens his mouth to respond, but he's not sure what to say in this situation, overwhelmed by a cocktail of emotions that he’s still coming down from. Before he conjures an appropriate response (is there even one?), you're shouldering your backpack and slipping through the gap. Joel rushes to his feet. “Hey, wait!”

You continue up the hill, not bothering to turn to him as you purse your lips. “Oh. You’re still here.”

“Yeah, I’m ‘still here’! You held my dog hostage; kind of hard to get over,” he grumbles, panting as he trudges after you with Boy at his heels. You’re faster than you look. “So⎼uh⎼where you heading?”

“Away.”

He nods almost sage-like, wringing his hands together. “Cool, cool. So mysterious,” He pauses, inhaling deeply. His voice, now deeper and a bit more relaxed, comes in a rush as he asks, “Is there any chance we could go with you?”

You freeze, and Joel almost crashes into your back. You whirl around and suddenly you’re faced to face, but you’re too astonished by his question to care that he’s in your personal bubble.

His breathes come in heaves. His eyes are big and round, brown and bright with… hope?

It occurs to you that this guy, who hasn’t even given you his name, is a loser. A hopeful, naive loser.

And it’s for that reason you come to a decision⎼you’ll entertain him.

“Where are you going?”

“West,” Joel’s shoulders hunch, his voice self-assured as he adds, “to the coast.”

Yeah... fuck that.

You turn to walk away. “No.”

“Wait!”

You glower at him, stopping him in his tracks. “Dude, we got what we wanted. I got food, you got your dog. End of transaction.”

Joel stares at you for a moment, like he’s debating how far he can test you. He seems to think better of it as his shoulders sag and he caves, “Fine, I’ll head west without you. I can do it.” The last part he says more to himself before turning on his heel, starting in the direction opposite of you.

You nod. This is good, for the both of you. And safer, you tell yourself as you turn to begin your trek again. You’re two strangers in the apocalypse; you don’t know who he is, where he’s been, and, from your experience, it’s best to travel alone. It’s inconspicuous, efficient and⎼

Where the hell is he going?

You halt, squinting as you watch him hike away from the west coast. “Hey!”

He looks at you over his shoulder, his face surprised but expectant. Hopeful. He reminds you of a puppy being called over by their owner.

He thinks you’re caving into him.

Well, jokes on you, loser. You raise an eyebrow, “You know that’s not West, right?”

“Oh,” Joel’s eyes widen, clearing his throat. Boy woofs and he shoots him a withered look, altering his trajectory. “I knew that.”

“That’s not West either.”

He switches directions again.

You shake your head. “No.“

And again.

“Nope.”

Joel’s face reddens, unable to meet your eyes as he stops trying so he doesn’t further humiliate himself.

You make your way over to him, rolling your eyes. He seems to make you do that a lot. “Okay, how much food you got on you?”

“Enough to last me a week? Why⎼”

That’s all you needed to hear.

“Then it’s settled,” You decide, clapping him on the shoulder. He winces. “You share your rations with me, and I’ll help you get to the West coast.”

He blinks, clearly taken aback as you begin your trek once again, gesturing him to follow you. You feel his eyes on your back. “Really?”

“Really. You are a food source. Also I’m pretty sure you’d die before getting halfway.” You add, unabashed.

He frowns, unsure whether to be grateful or not. He decides on the latter. “Oh…thanks anyway?”

“You're really not from around here, are you?” You pause, looking back at him.

He scratches the back of his neck. “No. Is it that obvious?”

“Painfully. So free advice,” You, with a hand on your hip and tone clipped, gesture up and down at his⎼well⎼everything. “Try not to let anyone know you’re a newb. Might keep you alive.” With that, you start heading West, not bothering to see if he’s comprehended the note you bestowed on him.

Joel glances down at himself before trailing after you. “Good to know.”

AN: I want to make it clear: I would never eat a dog, you would never eat a dog, no one would ever eat. A. Dog. That was a joke for this part 1. I even wrote emphasis on your character’s hesitation. It’s just that this is the apocalypse, so it’s safe to assume that survivors are driven into corners, desperate and have to make some hard choices.

The end dialogue is reference to @teenwolffanclub-me TW rewrite bc i love it and them so if you like Dylan O’ Brien and Stiles pls read their shit. <333

This part is a slow starter, but I don’t want to rush this, your intro and your development. But, now that you’ve finally met, hopefully the rest won’t seem any slower than the beginning.

I’ve never wrote for a lone survivor kind of character before. I hope you enjoyed the intro nonetheless!

I think I’ll forgo the 7 parts idea, but that’s a goal.

Part 2 in progress.

Also, how to get a beta reader??

#joel dawson x reader #dylan o'brien x reader #stiles stilinksi x reader #joel dawson #love and monsters #dylan o'brien #stiles stilinski #dylan o'brian imagine #stiles stilinksi imagine #joel dawson x you #joel dawson x y/n #love and monsters x reader #reader insert

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irelanddesires · 3 years

Text

Trioblóid

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x reader

Warnings: Fluff, eventual smut, guns, violence, the usual gangster stuff.

Summary: Moving to Birmingham YN was lost. Tommy is still stuck in the tunnels in France. Will this match lead to ever after or utter devastation?

A/N: Okay so this is literally the first thing I’ve written in probably 2-3 years. I’m trying to get back into the hang of things but it’s been really hard. Sorry if this is shit. <3 This is only part 1, there will be more, not sure how much more but at least 2 more parts.

You hadn’t grown up in a city like Birmingham. In fact, the place you grew up could probably fit in a city block of Birmingham. Your mother and you had just relocated to the area a few months ago. You both had escaped your awful excuse of a father and husband during the night. You used the darkness of night to hide who you were and where you were going, stowed away in the back of a truck with animals heading to the city slaughterhouse. Once the truck reached the city you both had bailed, walking the rest of the way. You had been lucky enough to find a home for rent at a price that you could afford. Your mother had been skimming money from your father for months preparing for this. You didn’t have much but you had enough to survive while you both looked for work.

Within a few days your mother was lucky enough to find a job working in a bakery. You were still looking for something but in the meantime you were able to handle anything around the house while your mother was away at work. You hoped that this was only the beginning to a new, safe life.

The stairs creaked as you came downstairs, your mom long gone to work. Today you needed to tidy the kitchen before heading to the market to get food for the week. Making your way through the sitting room and into the kitchen you noticed the sky seemed to be darkening in the west.

“Shoot” you muttered.

With the possibility of rain you had to make a change of plans. Getting food for the week couldn’t wait, at this point you barely had anything at all in the fridge and would need to make something for dinner. Gathering your cash and bags you hurried from the house. The market wasn’t too far, only about a half hour walk from home. Usually this gave you time to bask in the sun, which was a rarity as it is, and interact with others if the possibility arose.

Today would not be a day you could stroll to the market while having pleasant conversations. With the clouds blowing in and the air already feeling like rain you knew you had only a brief amount of time until it would start. You prayed it wouldn’t really rain until you could make it home. You made record time arriving at the market and quickly scanned the shelves and grabbed everything you would need for the week.

“Good afternoon, Y/N” the cashier said and I began placing items onto the counter. Even with Birmingham being so large it felt so small sometimes. The shop owner had been in the neighborhood for generations so he seemed to know everyone, even the new people in the neighborhood.

Pleasantries were exchanged before the shop owner had you all checked out and ready to go. Stepping outside you cursed as a gust of wind almost toppled you over. The sky had darkened significantly since you entered the store. You knew you would probably get drenched on your way home, causing your mood to sour. If only you hadn’t chosen this morning, out of all mornings, to sleep in just a bit.

Walking back through your neighborhood was eerie. The sky was dark above you, matching the black of the buildings and street. The only nearby sounds were of your heels clicking against the brick sidewalk. It seemed like everyone had disappeared leaving you to hustle home alone. Thunder rolled in the distance,

“Oh fuck” you muttered, quickening your pace.

Rain isn’t unheard of in England, in fact more often than not it rained. Being caught out in a storm is a whole other story, one she didn’t want to experience. Her feet ached as she pushed herself harder, hoping she could make it home before the food she carried became soaked. Rain didn’t really mix well with bread and flour. With only your mother being able to provide for the two of you, it made things tight with money and there really wasn’t room to replace ruined food.

As the first few drops hit the ground you tucked your chin down into your jacket and wrapped your arms around the bags you were carrying, hoping that you would be able to shield it for the most part. The wind whipped around you sending your hair flying in all directions. The coolness of the wind broke through your jacket causing chills to run down your spine. If the streets before were eerie, they were down right scary now. No one was around, no person, no animal moved. Turning the corner you sighed, your house wasn’t too far from here, just another block and a right turn. You might be lucky after all you thought.

Before you had a chance to relax at being so close to home a clap of thunder boomed in the sky above you like a bomb and rain began to fall as hard as you’ve ever seen it. Between the wind, rain and your hair covering the majority of your face you had no idea how close you were to another person until you collided. Your breath oofed out of your chest at the force of the collision, bags falling from your arms, before you could topple over arms came around you holding you upright.

“You alrig’ love?” a deep voice caressed you.

You don’t know what you were expecting to see when you looked up but piercing blue eyes weren’t it. The stranger’s eyes were beautiful, so blue you felt like you could swim in them. Your eyes wandered across his face getting lost in the chiseled features you found. His voice brought you back to reality,

“Love? You alright?” he asked again.

You suddenly realized how close you were, his arms wrapped around you in somewhat broad daylight, anyone could see. You quickly stepped out of his embrace and cleared your throat before answering,

“Yeah… Yeah I’m fine.”

Looking at your feet you saw all your groceries strewn across the black cobblestone.

“Fuck!” you cursed, bending to start picking up all the food and stuffing it back into bags.

The stranger crouched across from you and began helping gather what was left in another bag. You both stood and the stranger lifted your bag back to you, amusement across his face.

“Well I’m glad someone found this amusing” you snapped

Curiosity flashed across his face but the amusement never left his eyes, it was like he was in on an inside joke leaving you dripping wet and angry at the ruined food in your arms. Sighing you went to apologize for colliding with him but he quickly held up a hand silencing you.

“No apologies. John will see you home safely and you can send me a bill for what was ruined.”

You hadn't even noticed someone else was there, casting a quick glance behind him you saw another man dressed in the same fashion leaning against a car. His expression must have worn the same shock yours did as you looked at one another. You thought over it for a few seconds before turning your attention back to the man in front of you.

“Thank you,” you agreed with a nod.

Before you could process what was happening the man, John, was ushering you into his car. He had taken your bags from you and placed them in the back seat. He came around the car and hopped in the driver's seat before taking off down the road. He inquired about your address but that was the extent of your conversation.

John dropped you safely at home and even helped carry a bag inside. You shouldn’t have felt comfortable with either man, just looking at them you could see that they carried demons.

That night, laying in bed, you couldn’t stop your mind from wandering toward the mysterious blue-eyed man and how hauntingly beautiful he was. You hoped you would have the chance to run into him again, just to see him again. Your mind traveled to wicked thoughts as you drifted to sleep and thought of those blue eyes.

#peaky blinders #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x y/n #thomas shelby x reader #arthur shelby #john shelby #thomas shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #fanfic #writing

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writingsfromhome · 3 years

Text

Bad Timing III

A/N: Okay. This one has it all: action, betrayal, confessions, concussions (again), snark, and an ending that is neither happy nor sad, or maybe you make it what you want it to be :) This was so different from anything I’ve written and I want to say thank you everyone for reading it and motivating me to continue loll

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

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

I’m surprised to find Harry on my doorstep this early on a Wednesday morning. At first, I think he’d cracked the case. But he looks like he’d just rolled out of bed, a stubble roughening his usual freshly shaved face. He didn’t look like he had good news.

“You look rough,” I comment. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” he blows his cheeks out with a breath. “Ab-so-lutely nothing, literally. I’m hitting a dead end with your case and I feel like shit about it.”

“So...you’ve decided to knock on my door at quarter to 8 and? Discuss the case with me?”

“Well I...not exactly.”

“Did you want to come in? Maybe go through some more of my private boxes?” I ask. I was being petty, making him feel uncomfortable. But I also wanted to just put it out there, so it didn’t hang above us like the rest of our past. The last thing I wanted from him was pity, so if I had to make him feel guilty instead I would own that.

He blushes, just like I knew he would. “M’sorry about that,” he mumbles, looking appropriately self-conscious. “I could do with a coffee if you have some?”

“You look like you need one but...I’ve got to head out soon.”

“I’ll give you a ride in,” he offers. “I...we can just talk about the case. This can be professional.”

My laugh is brittle as I open the door to let him in, like a stray I knew I would regret. “Nothing about this is professional.”

He walks right in through to my kitchen--he knew where it was by now. I put on another pot and the awkward silence settles in. This was exactly how my friends described interactions with their exes, I guess I was truly living the life of a divorcee and it was all very mundane.

“So, did you have a guest over?” He asks. I raise an eyebrow and he motions to the two cups sitting on the table.

I roll my eyes and pick them up, “Great observation skills, Detective.”

“It’s my job,” he rolls with the sarcasm, cracking the ice we’d found ourselves in again. He takes a seat at the table and begins, “So the group that hit your bank hit up two more in the last week.”

“Two?” I was shocked. So many victims, I almost want to make a Bank Heist Survivor Group for us.

“Yeah,” he accepts the cup I pour for him. I sit across him with my second of the morning. The first I had drank with an on-and-off again guy I’d been seeing for the last few months--Alec. I never really let myself get serious with him, afraid to get hurt I guess. I knew he liked me, and he was good to me, but I didn’t want to make any commitments. This morning was the first time I let him stay for breakfast...after that letter it felt like something changed in me.

The letter...Harry...I focus back on his words as I realise he was talking to me, “...last one they’ve actually put someone in hospital--the ICU. If she doesn’t make it, it becomes homicide and-”

“Homicide?” Once again, I’m shocked. These people were really terrorizing the banks, and the police had no leads. Or at least that’s how Harry made it seem: “Any leads?”

“Um, I probably shouldn’t say-”

“So that’s a no.”

He looks up sharply before a small embarrassed smile softens his gaze. “Nothing serious.”

“That sounds like a load of useless shite you lot are doing at the station. Three banks and you’ve got nothing?”

He avoids answering, taking a sip of his coffee. “There are some leads, but the group’s really good. I just--I feel like there’s something staring me right in the face but I can’t see it.”

“What’s new?” I raise an eyebrow. He lets out a short laugh, shaking his head as he busies himself with the coffee. “What? I’m not joking.”

“This,” he gestures to me. “This snarky Y/N is a bit of an adjustment. I know you like your sarcasm, I just haven’t had it directed at me in a while.”

I cross my arms, maybe I needed to dose up my attitude so he knew I was 100% serious. When he catches on, he sets his cup down. “They’ve hit your bank up first yeah? I feel like there’s a reason for that, some personal connection maybe? Have you guys turned down anyone for a loan or anything recently? Someone that might want to target your bank first?”

“I’d have to check,” my mind begins to go over anyone we’ve had come in recently with issues.

“Oh!” He jumps in his seat. “The client you were meant to see--did you talk to him? I was going to ask you when you came to pick up the evidence but...”

“I was too busy to go.” I finish his sentence for him. “It’s weird actually, I called and got voicemail. I also emailed to apologise and reschedule but his office is away, I only get automated replies that they’re out of office or something.”

Harry pulls out the notebook he uses and asks me to write down their information, I was sure I’d written it down for him already but I write it a second time. I push the notebook back towards him, and he places his hand on top of mine instead of taking it back from me. I freeze, his large hand familiar and yet, heavier than I remembered.

“What are you doing,” I ask.

“I...want to apologise. For the other day.”

“Please let go of me,” I stare at his hand on mine.

“If I can just say-”

“Let go,” I say, slower. He clears his throat and removes his hand.

I pick up my mug, and move to the sink. Harry realises he’d overstayed his welcome and gets back up, throwing his jacket over his arm and hovering at the edge of the kitchen.

“Thanks for the coffee,” he says awkwardly. “And letting me think out loud. Should I um, wait outside?”

I remember I’d forgone getting to work on time on my own for his coffee and case updates. Fuck, this was going to be awkward. “Sure, I’ll just grab my things.”

He waits on my front stoop, talking on his phone and once he’s done we walk silently to his car when I join him. The silence in the car is deafening. I watch his hand twitch to the radio but he rests it back onto the steering wheel without turning it on. After a few more moments of silence, he speaks up.

“So uh, did you want to ask me about what you brought up...the day you came to pick up the evidence? You said you had questions?”

“Are you serious?” I look at him, incredulous. He really was incredibly thick if he thought I wanted to have this conversation now, after this morning.

“What? I’m just trying to make conversation and you’re the one that wanted to talk about it so-”

“Have I not made it crystal clear that I only want to talk to you about the case? What makes you think that’s a good topic right now?”

He shrugs, and I once again pray that the other people on his team were smarter than him because if he was the lead, my case was going nowhere.

“Can I just ask one question?” He tries again. I almost want to slam my hands on the dashboard but I sigh through gritted teeth instead and tell him he could. “Did you...ever actually read the letter? Last week...you sounded sort of surprised when I mentioned it.”

“I...” I consider lying. but I go for the truth which is a change for us. “I didn’t.”

“Oh,” he sounds dejected.

“I read it last weekend.”

“Oh,” he says again, slightly hopeful. “But this whole time...you didn’t know?”

“That’s another question.” I didn’t want to go into what I thought of him this whole time. “I only agreed to one question.”

“Fair enough,” he taps the steering wheel. We’d managed to get stuck in some traffic. “So that box I sort of looked into the other day...”

“I said no to more questions, Harry.”

“That wasn’t a question,” he says, neatly catching me in his trap. I glare at him, but his cheeky smile tells me he was slightly enjoying pushing my buttons. I make a mental note to never accept a ride from my ex-husband ever again.

We fall silent, and the letter plays through my mind again, I’d reread it a few times before I tucked it into my bookshelf. I’d decided after that, to take The Box and tape it up. I wrote my sister’s address and left it by my front door to mail out when I had the chance. It was time I let it go, I realized. My sister was having her third child, and I was so happy for her. I had people who loved me, and people I loved. I realised that I was holding on to the box and it was just torturing myself. I had enough torturous things in my life, I didn’t need to be one of them.

It feels like forever until Harry pulls up to the curb down the street from my building. I thank him properly, not wanting to be a complete bitch.

But as I walk around to the sidewalk, he calls my name. I turn back to him standing outside his car with his hand outstretched.

“You forgot this,” he holds out my umbrella. I sigh and go back to take it from him but he holds onto it.

“Are you going to let me have it?” I tug again.

“Yes,” he lets go and I have to balance myself on my back leg. “Thanks for taking me in this morning. And for the coffee...you didn’t have to, yet you did.”

“Don’t read into it detective,” I scowl. “It was purely to get more insight on the case.”

“Right,” he smirks.

“But since you had no insights, it was a waste of time.”

“Don’t say that so loud,” he hisses. “I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”

“I’m not telling the people something they don’t already know.”

He narrows his eyes and grins, and my heart skips a beat. It was a familiar look, he used to look at me like that all the time. And I realise that maybe I’d just been flirting with him a little, albeit aggressively but...I drop my smile into a neutral expression. He notices the change and drops his own grin.

“I spoke to my supervisor and I’m going to set up in an empty room if that’s alright. I wanted to interview some of your staff, see if they had any clients who might want revenge by-”

“You’re coming in today?” I feel like he’d just pulled some sleight of hand trick on me, driving me to work only to come in with me. “I don’t know if my staff wants to talk.”

“It’s an investigation, they all agreed to further questioning when they gave their statements Y/N, I’m not going to be invasive. You won’t even notice I’m there.”

“I have no choice do I?” I turn around and begin walking up the street. He follows me in.

And surprisingly, I barely notice him in the empty conference room until after lunch when he comes in to tell me he would be back later, that he had to drop by the station for something his evidence team found.

I make a few rounds to my staff, make sure Harry didn’t disrupt their peace. That they were still okay after talking about the thieves. Being on the floor, my eyes continue to dart to the door, eyeing each of the customers.

I lock myself in my office for the last hour, channeling the nervous energy to get work done. It’s a few minutes before closing that I get the email. I rush to open it: the client I was meant to see finally responded.

Good afternoon Ms. Y/L/N,

We apologise for the delay in our response, our offices have been closed for the last week blah blah blah. We’re very sorry to hear about the events that occurred in your bank. As a loyal client, we would like to extend our sympathy...

I skip to what I needed to know:

To respond to your inquiry about the meeting we had scheduled, there doesn’t look to be anything on our end. I’ve spoken to the advisor personally, he had a flight out of the city that exact date so he wouldn’t have booked a meeting at the same time. I think this could be an error on your end but do let us know if there’s anything we can provide to help...

I sit back from my screen, my thoughts racing. I read it again to be sure and bury my face in my hands. I read it a third time to be sure.

Adam had specifically told me the meeting was at 10am sharp, the client threatened to switch banks if I didn’t attend. But if they never booked it...I actually had no reason to be there.

Except I was the only one who had access to the vault.

I stand up in a rush, this was an inside job! Someone I worked with knew who robbed this bank, they worked with them! Harry was right, the truth was staring at us and it was so obvious!

I take out my phone and text Harry: call me, the client for Thursday just got back to me...he wasn’t in the city that day? I think about adding more, but I didn’t want to freak him out. This could be a big misunderstanding, and I didn’t want him to come here only for it to be nothing. I place my phone on my desk and take a few deep breaths to calm myself down.

I walk out of my office, most of my staff had cleared for the day. Two of them deal with the last customers, but my eyes are searching for Adam. I had to ask him more about this client phone call, what number had they called from? Was he sure it was from the correct offices?

But Adam is nowhere to be found, which was weird because he worked until 5pm.

I move to the staff room, but stop in my tracks when a familiar voice chills me to the bone. I knew the voice, it was the same distinct voice that haunted my thoughts for the last two weeks.

I peek around the corner, Adam and a muscled bloke stand right outside the staff room. My shock catches itself in my throat as my heart plummets; the inside man--it was Adam. Adam had betrayed us all. Shy, awkward Adam. Suddenly I remember all of his jumpy behaviours since the robbery, and all his questions about security before. I just thought he was trying to learn more about the bank. Little did I know...my blood boils but I have to put aside my own feelings of betrayal when the conversation grows louder. I strain to hear.

“The phone and the fucking card are missing, you better not be the reason we’re found out!” The muscled guy with the voice jams his finger into Adam’s chest. Adam looks scared shitless.

“I swear, I looked through the evidence they returned. I-I gave you the phone back! They haven’t said anything-”

“But that one detective was sniffing around here this morning? That’s why you texted me right? What did you tell him huh?”

“I didn’t say anything, he hasn’t even talked to me I-”

“That’s right. Make something up, a crazy customer from the day before some shite like that. If you even look suspicious to him, I’m going to come over to your flat for a nice dinner and invite my friend with me.”

My eyes bug out when I see him shift his jacket to reveal the hilt of a gun. Fuck!

I reach down for my phone but I don’t have it, double fuck, I think. I left it on my desk after texting Harry. I was an idiot, a big big idiot.

I try to soften my footsteps as I walk away from the staff room but the conversation must have ended because their footsteps echo on the tiled floor. I push into the nearest door and lay flat against the wall inside. I’m so focused on listening for their voices that I don’t realise I stepped into the men’s room.

“-before I leave..” to my horror, their voices stop right outside the room I’m in. I look around and realise I was in the men’s room. My instinct is to hide in a stall but this was a one-toilet bathroom, there was absolutely nowhere to go.

In slow motion, the door in front of me opens and the muscled, gun-owning guy looks right at me. It feels like a Western showdown as we lock eyes and freeze.

“Hey...Adam,” the guy calls out to Adam who must’ve been behind him. Adam peers around his shoulder and tenses when he notices me. “She’s in the men’s room! Isn’t that weird?”

“I-Y/N...she usually uses the men’s room.” Adam tries to cover for me but my deer-in the headlights expression is enough to give away that I knew who he was. I was trapped in here like prey. Adam lowers his voice, “C’mon, just leave her here and go-”

“She’s seen my face though,” He steps in and I inch into the corner.

“Look, I can forget your face. We can pretend this never happened please, I really really don’t want to die in a men’s room.”

Tattoo laughs, untucking his gun from his waistband. “I don’t believe you. Adam, get some tape so we can tie her up. I don’t want blood on my hands but if you make any noise, I’m painting this room fucking red.”

I keep my mouth shut, and nod. I’m reliving the worst day of my life all over again as I stare at the barrel of the gun. A small part of me wonders how my life could hang in the balance of this man’s fingers, twice, but I stay silent.

“There’s nobody here, everyone’s gone home.” Adam says, more to me. Tattoo pushes me against the tiled walls and pats me down roughly. I protest but he pushes the gun against my skull and I fall silent. Adam tries to step in, offering to make sure I didn’t have anything on me like my phone but I was stupid enough not to have it on me. His friend steps into the hall and makes a call, I assume to his crew.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry.” Adam’s voice breaks as he pats me down gently. I turn to him, with tears in my eyes. I was scared, and I needed Adam to get help. “Adam please, please don’t do this. Whoever he is, the police can protect you I-”

“He’s my cousin Y/N, you don’t understand he will kill me if I go against him. It’s complicated--my family’s complicated. I’m not like them. Y/N I’m so sorry I swear he...” he falls silent as his cousin comes back in. Adam makes a show of taping my hands and legs. I try to whisper, beg him to try but Tattoo notices and shoves me against the tiles. I think I black out for a second because the next moment, he’s pressing tape down over my mouth. I feel the panic I’d kept at bay blow up in full force, along with an ache in my temples. My breathing comes out short and I squeeze my eyes shut so I wouldn’t cry. I was going to die in a men’s restroom; this was what my miserable life had culminated to.

I remember the text to Harry then, maybe he’ll come. With backup. Maybe he’ll save the day for once. And I think about security, they surely noticed I never left the building, maybe they’ll go looking for me.

But my hopes are dashed when a woman comes in, I recognise her voice as the one who’d pushed me into putting the code into the vault.

“The side door was unlocked,” she tells Tattoo. She notices me and smirks, “It’s like you want your bank to be robbed. Who leaves the side door open after hours?”

She laughs and turns back to Tattoo, tells him that the guards were down and the place was officially locked up. They bring Adam in, and check with him that he knew where I kept my passwords, that he could clear out any money still left at this time of the day. I don’t hold back then, my tears flow silently down my cheeks as I watch them all leave me in the dark. If the police still hadn’t arrived, I really was going to die here like this. I don’t know when, but I pass out, and when I come to again I’m being pulled up aggressively while a familiar voice shouts at the people dragging me. Was that Harry?

H’s POV:

The one time I leave my phone in my car, I miss the most important text of my entire career--my entire life.

Around 2:30, the evidence team calls me, there was a breakthrough on the phone and card from the scene. A few numbers, but they were still trying to process the application for the records. I decided I couldn’t sit around and wait so I drive to the station and rush inside, leaving my phone behind.

It’s a waste of time though, the number leads to a burner that leads to a local shop that leads to a credit card. And that leads to a warrant which could take hours. Two hours later and I’m frustrated and moody. I decide to get some fresh air, and check my phone but reaching for my pocket I realise it wasn’t there.

I head to my car and find it between the seats. When I turn it on, Y/N’s name stands out and her text pushes me to my feet and into my car. I call her three times on my way to the bank but it keeps ringing. Fuck, I think. What if something happened to her? How was it that it was now a second time I was rushing to where she worked, afraid for her life.

I pull up the closest parking spot I can find to see security locking up. I rush to knock on the door but he only glances me, points to the closed sign, and walks away disinterested. I was in plainclothes today so he must have thought I was a customer. I reach for my badge to show him, and realise I’d left that in my jacket in my car. I couldn’t get anything fucking right today. I bang on the door but he ignores me, and the people outside begin to stare at me.

“I’m a detective,” I try to reassure them but they hurry past. It was stupid but I squint to see if anyone was inside, but there’s not a single soul. I see movement cast a shadow at the very end of the room but I can’t see anything with the way the glass is positioned. I center myself at the front again but the security is gone--I was going to have to find another way in.

I move around the big block of a building, looking high and low for another entrance into the building but the next shop over is a cafe so I double back and try the other way. A wooden door sits between the bank and the purses crowded in the store window on the other side. I try the door but it’s locked. Of course.

I go back to my car and find my lock pick kit, picking up my badge was a good idea. Within minutes, I’m in and a sterile hall greets me. I try the door on the left, but notice the keypad. After some bad guesses, I consider who set this: Y/N. I try her birthdate, her family’s birthdates--as close as i could remember. My feet tap against the tile rhythmically when the door knob turns right in front of my eyes. I dash to the side and huddle in front of the next door, rattling my keys as if I were trying to get in. Luckily, that door is unlocked and it’s a utility closet. I rush inside and peek through the crack; a man comes out and holds the door open while a woman opens the door I just came in from.

“It was unlocked,” she says skeptically.

“Shite security, just come in. When’s Russ getting here? He’s always the bloody last of us anywhere.”

Something was very wrong, I realize. But I don’t have time to think, I jump out of my hiding spot and manage to slide my hand into the closing door. I nearly crush my fingers but I nudge the door back open and slip into the bank.

The area’s clear, I move in to investigate. It’s only when I move from the hidden passage to the main lobby that the weight of the situation dawns on me. A different man wraps the security’s hand behind his back and pushes him against the wall. Push was nicer than what it looked like, he practically drags the guard into the wall.

My shoes squeaks on the floor and he looks up sharply, eyeing the area I was peeking out from. I crouch down, next to the trash bin and wait for his footsteps to leave. When I peer around the corner again, a familiar face paces behind the desks. Adam, I think it was, Y/N’s assistant.

It becomes clear in an instant, like a timelapse of a foggy night clearing into a bright blue sky. It was right in front of my face: Y/N’s assistant. The one who’d asked her to come in for a made-up appointment, the one who knew her exact schedule, the one who was jumpy and nervous every time I spoke with him. I thought he was just a shy kid but...he’d betrayed Y/N and been the inside man for these robberies.

I take my phone out, ready to text someone for backup but voices coming my way forces me to stop what I was doing. I press myself against the wall, trying to make myself smaller.

“I think she’s knocked out-”

“Don’t hurt her,” That was Adam. I recognised his cowardly voice. “We wouldn’t have gotten this far without her just, leave her in the bathroom. We can take everything and go.”

“You don’t have a say what goes on around here,” the woman says to him. “Your puny arse is why that detective was sniffing around here anyway.”

“She’s seen all our faces,” one of the guys says. “I’ll do it after you go.”

“She won’t remember, please.” Adam tries again. “Leave the charges at robbery, don’t add murder. She’s my boss I...”

The blood rushes to my head: his boss. Y/N was here, and they were casually talking about killing her? I take my phone out just as it begins to vibrate. I jump and manage to stop it in time, but my badge--the one thing I’d taken from my car purposely, clangs against the metal trash can.

Footsteps rush towards me and I stand up with my hands up, “Backup’s on the way, I suggest you lot put down-” they were all pointing guns at me. Bollocks. “your weapons.”

“That’s the fucking detective,” the one I’d seen tying up security waves his gun at me and I try not to panic. I wasn’t involved with a lot of guns, just the wounds they left in victims. I listen to him swear, “Backup yeah? I don’t hear shit. How did you even get in here?”

“I told you, the door was unlocked. The security here is shite.” The woman says, eyeing me. “I say we tie him up with the bitch and skip out now.”

“We haven’t even taken everything, this idiot doesn’t know the passcode-”

“I told you it changes every week. She must have changed it today.”

“Adam, how could you?” I speak up and all eyes-and guns-are back on me. Adam opens his mouth like a fish out of water but nothing comes out, I watch as he squirms and his group moves closer to me.

“Phone,” the one with tattoos points to the device in my hand. “Check his phone, if he called backup it would be on it.

I curse, they were smart. They’d robbed three banks after this and hadn’t left much behind--I should’ve known to be better prepared.

Someone takes my phone, another comes around and shoves the gun in my back which forces me to walk out into the lobby. They go through my phone and snicker at something. type something in and then toss the phone in the trash can beside us. I balk at the sound it makes when it crashes; the gun in my back pushes me forward and I’m forced to walk down the lobby, through a door and up to the men’s room.

“Wake the bitch up,” one of them men speak behind me. “Tie this one up and get her to open the safe with the new code.”

I knew I was outnumbered, they push me through the door and Y/N’s body is curled in one corner. The freshly pressed clothing from this morning are rumpled around her frame and she looks unconscious. The one who tied up security tapes my hands around my back and pushes me beside the sink.

“Don’t touch her!” I struggle against the arms who hold me back as the tattooed guy hauls her up and slaps her face.

“Wake up, it’s show time.” he shakes her. I push against the body pressing me down as they take Y/N out of the room. Her eyes flutter open and catch mine before she’s dragged out.

“I swear if you guys touch her I’ll snap your neck in half,” I can’t stop the panic turning into rage. “She-”

“Are you sleeping with her or something? Shut the fuck up.” The woman kicks the back of my knees and I fall, hitting my head as I crash down on my knees. She closes the door behind her.

I don’t know how much time passes but it feels like hours. The next time the doors open, they shove Y/N inside and she stumbles. I jump up to help her but with both of our hands behind our backs I accidentally lurch forward and her head bumps off chest.

“God! Harry!” She winces. “Way to hit the one part of my body that already feels like it’s going to explode.”

“Y/N,” I steady her with my chest and lean down to look at her. “Are you alright? Did they do anything to you?”

“Other than terrify, harass, and manhandle me? Oh, and give me another concussion...hm...”

“Here,” I motion with my chin. “Turn around, I’m going to get this tape off of you and you help me.”

She does as I say and I use the sharp edge of the ring I wore to make a small tear.

“Holy shit that’s better,” she shakes her hands out and gets to work on mine. As soon as my hands are free I try the door, there was a slim chance but we were in a restroom. I had to try. But it’s locked. Y/N speaks up from behind me: “They lock from the outside if you have the key--they probably got it from security. I don’t know who I angered in a past life but this is some shitty karma.”

“There’s got to be a way out of this room,” I wasn’t about to give up.

“There isn’t. But shouldn’t there be, like, backup coming?” Y/N takes a seat against the wall, watching me explore every inch of the tiny room.

“I...no. They took my phone before I could-”

“You came here without telling anyone? Even after the text I sent?” She shoots daggers at me.

“Well your text wasn’t exactly screaming danger!”

“I really have no fucking clue how you got your position Harry, surely anyone else would not be this dense.”

“I’m trying to find us a way out of here, this isn’t my fault! And anyway, it is your assistant that’s set this all up,” I say defensively.

“Sure know how to pick the men in my life, don’t I?” She says, but quieter. Seeing her bruised and hopeless there fuels me to look harder for a way our but after a frantic search, there really wasn’t anything in this place. No window, no vent big enough, nothing to pick the lock. I find a first aid that’s mostly empty, but there’s still an ice pack, tape, and painkillers inside. I crack the ice pack and hand it to Y/N who takes it silently, and then I slump down against the wall opposite Y/N and hang my head.

“What do you reckon they’re doing out there?” she asks.

“They were going to clean the place out and skip town.”

“Do you think we’re gonna die here?” she asks, her voice wobbly like she was about to cry. “Don’t. Don’t look at me like that, I’m just...asking.”

I look away from her face, her expression crumbling under my light scrutiny. She sniffs. Without looking at her I say “We’re not dying here. I told my guys to call me when they have something, and if they can’t reach me it’ll be suspicious enough to followup at least.”

“By the time they grow suspicious enough to track you, we’ll be dead. I’ve not got much faith in your team.” Y/N crosses her arms. Even under these circumstances, she’s fierce.

“They’re close to a breakthrough. It was them calling me that got me caught out there actually. Not even the call itself...my bloody badge clanged against the--it doesn’t matter anyway. But they must have something, they’ll be here soon. We won’t die in here.”

I felt more than hopeless stuck here. Out of the two of us, I was supposed to be the one who could make their way out of this type of situation. Months of training and years of experience, and here I sat stuck in a bathroom with the woman I gave up on.

“What a way to go,” she sighs. “In the bloody loo.”

I want to go over and put my arm around her, maybe I needed the comfort more than she did. But based on the way she crosses her arm and keeps her legs up I know she’s guarding herself. I could read the signs. So we sit there silently for who knows how long. Every so often a muffled noise comes from outside, we hear a crash but the silence after doesn’t tell us whether the thieves had left or they were still around.

With Y/N going mute, I look around the room again but there’s still nothing. She slumps further to the floor, and I seat myself back down again. I stare at her, remembering the shape of her face under my hand, the curve of her hips when my fingers traced them. Her laugh, the way she liked to tease me. If I was dying here, and this was my life flashing before my eyes...I sure had missed out on a lot of it. And if the robbers decided to come in here, and put a bullet in each of us, what kind of person had I even been?

A new surge of energy goes through me, I take the slim door handle and try it again. I know it wasn’t going to open but I tug it, again and again. I brace my foot against the wall and try and try again. But it remains stubbornly closed.

Winded, I sit back down. Y/N just watches me silently as the hope officially leaves my body. We sit in silence.

“Are you happy?” she asks after a few minutes. I look over at her bruised forehead, she raises an eyebrow and immediately winces. I reach over--in the small space, even on opposite walls, she was an arm away. I guide her hand with the ice over the bruise.

“I don’t know,” I admit, leaning back against the wall. “Why?”

She shrugs, going silent. I stretch my legs out and she mimics me, finally letting down her guard as her legs rest beside mine. I give her another minute, and she responds. “Your letter, you said you left because you weren’t happy. So I’m just wondering...are you happy now?”

“If I said yes, would it make you feel better?”

“Well, it would make you falling in love with another woman and breaking my heart in the process a little easier to accept...it wouldn’t have been for nothing if you’re happy.”

“You sure have a lot of tact,” I sigh.

“We might die here?” she fixes me with an annoyed glare. “There’s no time for tact when I could get closure? Before I die?”

“We’re not dying in here,” I promise but she shrugs like she didn’t have much faith in me. And why should she?

“Don’t avoid the question: are you happy?”

I give myself a moment, taking in her face. I didn’t know how to answer that without the overwhelming shame and guilt choking me. In a way, yes. In others, no. I settle for, “Sometimes.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” she hits her foot into my knee. “Sometimes? You cheated on me, and dumped me for a sometimes?”

“Okay wait,” I stop her. “I want to get something straight, I never cheated on you--”

“You did! You fell for some woman a-and you literally married her not even a year after we split!”

“Y/N,” I grow serious. She had thought that this whole time that I... “That’s not how it-” I let out a breath, truly realising what she thought of me this whole time. “Y/N, I fell for someone, sure, but I never even went out with her before we split. Nothing happened! It just took falling for someone else to make me realise my heart wasn’t in it--with us. It made me see I wasn’t happy where I was. But I-I went on one date with that person after we split and it was awful. She avoided me at work after that.”

“What?” she furrows her brows. “So-so who the fuck did you marry?”

I almost laugh, but it would be so inappropriate. “Someone else I worked with-”

“Wow, Harry, you really know how to get around.” She crosses her arms.

“I never denied that--you knew me in uni.”

A small smile cracks her guard but she covers it with an eye roll. “That’s the only thing you’ve said all day that’s actually made sense.”

“It’s nice to see you smile,” I say which earns me a glare. I saw it coming, and that makes me smile. Her glare falters at my smile and she covers her face with the ice pack. I continue, feeling more confident to explain. “Anyway, it was this other person from work, we’d worked on a few files together and she was actually the one who asked me out when she found out I was single. I felt like I had a strong connection with her--to be honest I think I was just lonely and h-um,..y’know. Mistook that for a gem, and married her.”

“I always thought you married the woman you fell for. So you could have a baby.”

I have to laugh at that. “I didn’t want a baby that badly--with someone I barely knew at best.”

She shrugs, “Well we were so tumultuous after we found out our chances were low and you were such a bitch to me about that so what else was I to think?”

I feel like an arse all over again. “I was an idiot, a big fucking idiot Y/N.”

“When did you realise?” She leans forward. “Cuz I’ve known that for years now.”

I rub my face with my hand, she was never going to make this easy. “I thought having a kid would make me happy, make me feel complete; it was the missing thing in my life. So when I realised our chances were low, it just killed my hope of ever being happy. Honestly I think even if we got pregnant I would’ve still been unhappy. I was just...using that as an excuse to..break us apart. It was never about you, I was just too cowardly to admit that I was going to hurt you if I told you I wanted a divorce for the real reason: because I wasn’t happy.”

“So...you made me feel like a fuck-up for not being able to get pregnant instead?”

“I...yeah,” there was the waves of shame crashing into me, I was drowning in it. Y/N just sits there, I can feel the judgement and hurt rippling off of her as she pieces everything together. “I feel awful about that. You really didn’t deserve that.”

“No, I didn’t.”

Her tightened fists tell one story, but the tears pooling in her eyes tells a different one. I slide closer to her, crossing my legs in front of her. “There’s nothing I can say to even begin to apologise for that. I should have just been honest, told you I wasn’t happy in the relationship, in my job, where my life was heading. But I let you believe it was somehow your fault and I can never take that back.”

She continues to watch me, her mouth a tight line as she tries not to cry. But with a blink of her eyes, the tears are streaming down her face. I reach out to her, out of habit, but she shrinks away. So I move back to the opposite wall and watch miserably as she cries into her sleeves.

“I was still unhappy, after the other marriage.” The only thing I can do is continue, I didn’t want to watch her cry in silence. “It took me finding her flirting with another bloke at work to realise we were a farce. I split with her, quit my job a few weeks later, and it was only then I felt free. It was a good feeling; the closest to happiness I’d felt back then. And then I lived with my sister for a few weeks while I figured out my next steps. You should know she was fuming when she found out we split, she didn’t talk to me for weeks.”

Y/N had wipes her tears by now, and listens to me talking in silence. When I mention my sister, she smiles. “We talk, here and there. Never about you, but I still keep in touch with her. And your mum. We had dinner when they were in London last year, it was really nice.”

“What?” This was news to me. “They never mentioned it.”

“Obviously not,” a smile pulls at her mouth and I’ve never been more relieved to see it. “They like me better than you.”

“Ouch,” If we got out of this--when we got out of this, I had questions for my mum.

“So,” she traces a crease on her trouser. “you switched jobs? Found the right fit?”

“Yeah, I did really good there. Moved up quickly. I found something I was passionate about, and it felt good. I think I was happy until...recently.”

“What happened?”

A shout from the other side of the door gives us pause, the door bursts open and I quickly move to block Y/N. But someone pushes an unconscious body into the room with their hands tied. With three bodies in here, it’s suddenly overcrowded.

“If you say one more thing to me, I will put a bullet in his fucking head...” The conversation fades out as the door slams and they walk away. Y/N rushes past me to the body and turns it face up.

“Adam,” she gasps. I walk over and her assistant lays there with a black eye and bruises forming all over his face. She unties his gag and I make sure he’s breathing.

“He’s alright, Just unconscious.” I let her know as she pulls off her jacket and piles it under his head. “He is the one who let these people into your life, you remember that?”

She glares at me, “He didn’t have a choice Harry. I spoke to him when I gave him the code--one of them’s his cousin. He said they were going to break in one way or another and if he didn’t help they would shoot him and me during the process.”

“He had plenty of time to tell you after the fact-”

“Have a little compassion,” she throws her hands up. “He didn’t ask to have a fucking criminal family. Just, let’s wait for him to wake up. He’s been through a lot.”

“So have we,” I mumble but she doesn’t acknowledge me. She moves to her wall instead, putting her hand to her head.

“Let me see,” I slide myself towards her and move her hand away from the area. I pick up the ice she abandoned on the floor and hold it to her head but she snatches it back, saying she could hold it herself, right before she pitches forward and passes out herself.

Y/N’s POV:

I wake up confused and groggy, only to see Harry’s face hovering above mine. For a second, I think that maybe I was living in a twisted Groundhog Day type of situation, forced to relive the bank heist until I resolved things with Harry. But then I notice his split lip and remember my life was that unlucky that I was in the same position twice.

“Jesus, you’re awake.” Harry lets go of my hand which he’d been holding.

“It’s actually just Y/N,” I try to crack a joke. It flies past his head, his eyebrows pinching together. He asks me if I remembered my name, where I was, and a dozen other questions even though I insist I was fine. I was laying down with my head in his lap, I realise halfway through the interrogation. But trying to get up made me dizzier so I stay. He shows me the paracetamol he found in the first aid and forces me to down two, and I only agree because my head had started pounding.

“Don’t do that to me again,” he pushes my hair back. I try not to focus on the warmth of his hand on my skin, how nice it felt. I was bloody delirious. “You have to stay awake Y/N, this is the second time you’ve hit your head I think your concussion might be more serious this time if you’re passing out--”

“Harry please,” I put my hand up to stop his rambling. “Your voice is hammering at my migraine.”

“Sorry,” he smooths down my hair again, and again, like it soothed him more than it soothed me. “I’m not used to feeling so useless like this. But there’s absolutely nothing in here that’s going to help us get out. All we can do is sit tight and wait for one of them to come back.”

“So finish your story,” I ask. “You said you were happy until recently. What happened.”

He looks at me skeptically but I insist I wanted to know. I was finally getting the full story, the closure that actually made sense. And I wanted all of it. The good, the bad, and the ugly.

“The box,” he says simply and I flinch because I know exactly what he’s talking about. “Well, seeing you and realizing-- this whole time it’s like, I’ve missed you in the peripheral y’know? And seeing you that day, forced me focus on how much I missed my...best friend. And after that, the box? I realized what I did to you...the impact of it? Maybe I was just daft this whole time for not really thinking about it but-”

“I was pregnant,” I blurt out. If I was going to die, I may as well tell him. “A few weeks before our...breakup. I found out. And I was going to tell you. I was-I was just so excited I’d bought some things prematurely. But then I lost the...baby. I’d just boxed the shite away after that. Carrying it with me...it hurt but I almost believed that I deserved it?”

I watch him swallow, from this angle I can see the muscles in his jaw clench. I reach up and my hand lands on his neck, I move it to rest on his chest where I intended. He looks down and I see the tears coat his lower lashes. I think I was half-drowsy from the pain meds but I want to cry with him, and wipe his tears. A distant part of my brain screams at me for being confused and slightly fucked up, but my medicated brain reach up to pat his face. My heart flutters when he closes his eyes and leans into my palm.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” He whispers.

“Would it have made a difference?” I ask, my eyes drifting shut. But he shakes me rudely and they fly open.

“Stay awake.” He insists. “And...it wouldn’t have made a difference but at least you wouldn’t be carrying it alone.”

“Well I’m not, anymore.” I yawn. “I told you, and you seen it. And m’gonna mail the box to my sister--she’s pregnant by the way. She might have better use for it.”

He eyes me, “How did that make you feel?”

“You’re not a bloody therapist,” I laugh. “Don’t ask me that.”

“I think I’d make a good therapist,” he says over-confidently.

“You’re the reason why I had a therapist,” I mumble. “You’d be an awful therapist. Your patients would need therapy from therapy.”

I laugh, it wasn’t even that funny but everything just felt ridiculous. Harry’s smiling down at me, but a loud crash from outside wipes it. His body tenses, and I watch the door.

“Sorry,” he whispers before gently moving my head off his lap and onto his jacket he’d bundled. He picks something up from beside him--the toilet seat.

“Why are you holding a toilet seat?” I whisper-shout. He puts his finger to his lips and crouches on the side of the door.

“You were passed out for a while, I had time to make a bit of a mess-”

He cuts his sentence short as the door opens and Adam’s cousin comes in swearing at Adam but before he can reach for him, Harry slams the toilet seat over the guy’s head. I watch it all sideways, my head feels too heavy to pick it up. The man crumples on top of Adam, and Harry expertly searches him, picking his gun off of him.

From outside, the woman’s voice come closer.

“What’s taking so long? The car’s outside just grab your stupid cousin let’s go! The cops will be here any min-”

She freezes when she comes face to face with the gun in Harry’s hand. She reaches for hers and in half a second, Harry’s fired his gun into her arm. She lets out a shout and falls to the floor. Harry kicks the gun out of her hand and pulls her inside, blood trailing in her wake. He uses the jacket under Adam’s head to tie her arms and comes back to me.

“Y/N, let’s go. I hear sirens.” Harry bends down and gently lifts me up. I feel like a ragdoll in his arms but I manage to prop myself enough to walk beside him. He closes the door behind him and checks the handle that it was locked.

He helps me down onto a chair, the brightness of the lobby nearly blinds me, my migraine tearing my skull apart. I think I throw up on the floor, I felt entirely out of it. I keep my eyes closed, but I hear Harry letting in some people, and I feel arms putting me on a stretcher, taking me out into the cool air. The fresh air smelled incredible, and that’s the last thought I have before I pass out.

***H’s POV:

It was a crazy 24 hours.

Right before I’d been shoved into a 7′ by 5′ restroom, my team at the station had received the warrant for the credit card. That was the call I received that put me in the tiny room with Y/N. When I didn’t pick up, Detective Cole had taken the lead in tracing it. The credit card belonged to Adam’s cousin and they eventually traced him to Adam. That was the smoking gun for them, they tried me a few times. Finally, tracking my car to outside the bank. Suspicious, they sent out a few uniforms here and when they noticed my car sitting empty, and no guard at the entrance, they called for backup.

I’d debriefed, spoken and written out in detail, what happened. They’d taken pictures, handcuffed everyone in the bathroom, and I’d watched triumphantly as they walked the criminals out. Two had escaped after hearing the sirens, but at least two would be put away.

I drink my third coffee at the station now, when my supervisor finally comes in to talk to me. Tells me I could go home, finally. To get rest--the paramedics had checked me out and I was okay considering what just happened.

But instead of going home, I drive straight to the hospital where Y/N lay like a shell of herself. A tall bloke in a perfectly pressed suits stands above her, brushing her cheek. I watch as she reaches up and holds his hand, I watch him pull her hand up and kiss it. Then he leans down and kisses her bandaged forehead.

My stomach is in knots; I can’t look away. It was the same person who left her flat just this morning--god, this morning felt like years ago. It must be her boyfriend, but she didn’t mention she was seeing someone. Maybe it was casual, I think. But casual wouldn’t come to hospital like this, caress her like that.

The obvious was that I was lucky just to have a glimpse of her in my life again, long enough to clear the air between us. But I couldn’t hold on to her, when I let go so many years ago, I’d lost my grip entirely. And now she was out of my grasp.

I knock gently on the door, Y/N’s boyfriend (?) looks up.

“Sorry, the doctor doesn’t want anyone taking her statement right now-”

“I’m not-” I unclip my badge to show that I wasn’t there for my job. At the same time Y/N rests her hand on his arm.

“Alec,” she says in a hoarse voice. “It’s alright, that’s Harry.”

“Oh,” I can read everything in the two-letter word and the look he gives me. He seems to swallow what he really wanted to say and comes up to me to shake my hand instead. “Thanks, for helping Y/N tonight.”

“I didn’t do anything,” I grasp his hand, he had a strong handshake. Which was a stupid thing to think about I realise, as my eyes land on Y/N. She’s looking at him with a purity in her eyes that she used to look at me with. Something inside of me falls away, it feels raw and dark. I remove my hand from his, “Y/N’s a strong woman.”

“She is,” he looks at her with the same look she gives him. I felt like I should go, like I was interrupting them. But Y/N asks him to give us some space. He happily obliges, like I wasn’t even a threat to him. With what Y/N told him, everything she knew to be the truth before tonight, I didn’t blame him.

“Hi,” she says, she clears her throat, watching me watching her.

“How are you feeling?” I brush her hair back from the bandage on her head.

“Like there’s a rock concert in my head,” she jokes. “Except it’s mostly screaming.”

“Kind of like that one party we went to in uni,” I remind her.

“I thought the party’s theme was emo,” a laugh bursts out of her.

“It was screamo,” I laugh with her. “My ears were bleeding the next morning.”

“You crashed in my bed that night,” she remembers, her voice soft as the nostalgia washes over us. I take her hand in mine and brush my thumb over her knuckles. How times changed.

“You know, my girlfriend broke up with me that day when she found out I shared a bed with another girl.”

“Really?” She laughs again, twice in one conversation with me. She must be high on meds, or finally letting me in again. “You never told me that.”

“I never told you much about the girls I dated,” I say truthfully. “A lot of them dumped me after seeing how close we were. There was always that ultimatum: you or them.”

“Hm,” she hums. “I guess you chose me until you didn’t.”

We lock eyes and I open my mouth--to apologise? To explain something? But she waves her hand. “It’s a habit, I’ve got to get all the one-liners I’ve kept pent up out. I’ll be done eventually, don’t worry.”

“I look forward to that day,” I drum my fingers against the bed. “In the meantime...Alec?”

“Oh,” her face flushes as she looks out the door to where he stands on his phone. “Yeah. He’s been...really good, he came over as soon as he heard.”

“How long?” It was torture for me but it was like I needed to know.

“A few months, on and off again. I think I’ve just been keeping him at arm’s length because...well...”

“Us,” Once again, I’m reminded that I could never fully grasp the enormity of the damage I’d done. “He seems like a smart chap--he’s here for you after all.”

“That would make you a smart chap too,” she says which brings my attention back to her cheeky smile. “If you want to compliment yourself, you don’t have to do it in such a roundabout way.”

I laugh, she was good. She grins back at me and my breath catches, this feeling in my chest made me feel like I was drowning. I couldn’t breathe deeply enough, the old fear of being unhappy had been creeping up on me ever since I got here and saw Alec with Y/N. Now it drapes over my shoulders like a heavy coat.

“What’s wrong?” Y/N asks.

“Nothing,” I sit on the edge of the bed. “Just thinking about everything that happened. And what we talked about.”

“I’m glad that we...” she picks at the thin blanket covering her body. “I feel like I have some closure now?”

“I wish I knew...what you thought this whole time. The baby and...everything.”

“I’ve got a long way to go but,” Y/N rubs my arm. “Let’s just agree to leave all the heavy stuff behind. And live our lives to the fullest. Almost dying in a men’s room has really given me perspective. We both deserve to be happy.”

“You should write a book,” I joke. “It would sell.”

“We can co-write it.”

“We’ll title it Bad Timing,” I say. “A memoir of two people, right place, wrong time.”

“That’s good!” She grasps my arm. “And you could write the whole thing and just give me credit.”

“I’m okay with that,” I would do anything for her.

“You’re the writer after all,” she smiles and it strikes me again, how deeply she knew me. I don’t know if anyone would ever know me the way she does. “Do you still write?”

“Not really,” I didn’t at all.

“I was remembering the other day how you used to leave post-its all over my room-”

“I remember that,” I remind her of a few of my famous ones including one I stuck on her back that said kiss me. She scolds me for that and I pretend to be sorry but she knows I’m not.

“I am sorry,” I say, resting my hand on her arm and she understands I’m not talking about the prank.

“I know,” she looks away, out the door to Alec.

“So I should go, maybe I’ll be the one to take your statement? Tomorrow--or I’ll have my best officer come in here for it.”

“You should take a day off,” she says. “We almost died today.”

“You’re one to talk,” I say. “And we were not going to die today. You’re so dramatic.” I flick her knee and she flinches.

“Ouch,” she milks her current position in the hospital bed, rubbing the spot on her knee.

“Did that hurt? I don’t remember any knee injuries in your file.” I lean down over her and pat it extra hard.

“You’re evil,” she grins but for a small second her eyes flicker down to my lips, and when they meet mine again they look uncertain.

“Alright. Rest up. I’ll see you...later.” I lean down, my lips ghost her cheek, and I hear her sigh. “Goodbye Y/N,” I say, and somewhere it feels final. I don’t dare look at her when I stand up. I walk out of the room, and out of her life.

I think back to the one other time I saw her before the bank robbery. It was outside a grocer, and she’d told me to never talk to her again. I was glad the universe or whatever hadn’t listened, that our lives had crashed into each other even though that meant that in the end she was left in hospital and I was left unhappy again, realizing what I was missing in life. But for a brief moment, in the grand expanse of this universe, we orbited each other again.

As I nod at Alec on the way out. I stand to the side as he walks back in. I hear him comforting her, and I hear her tell him she had to talk in a low voice. I leave then, with every intention to leave her alone. She deserved this happiness she was finally finding as she put our past to rest, she didn’t need uncertainty. As for myself, it felt like it was my burden to bear now; Y/N and I just had bad timing, it felt like, but I just wanted her to be happy. So I let her be; I let go.

159 notes · View notes

patt-writes-stuff · 3 years

Text

Pink (Hawks x gn!Reader)

Pairing: Hawks/Takami Keigo x gn! Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: cursing but that’s about it!

Genre: Fluff, slight angst, Romantic/Relationship

Tags/Aus: boss x secretary, pining, slow burn, slight cannon divergence probably

Summary: 5 times your boss, Hawks, made you flustered + the one time you made him flustered

A/N: MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS!! This is my fic for the Attack on Academia server’s Secret Santa Event!! This is for @sugacookiies !! and I really hope you like it!!!

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

Event No. 1

“Thank you so much for coming today, we’ll be sure to get back to you soon,” the lady who had been interviewing you said, smiling at you. You bowed your head slightly, thanking her for her time with a small smile on your face.

After exiting the room and closing the door, you took a deep breath, as if to calm your still very present nerves. You had been up for a job as a secretary at pro hero Hawk’s agency, something you were more than thrilled about.

Growing up, you’d always been immensely intrigued with the world of pro heroes. Your room had been decked out in hero figurines and posters, the whole nine yards. Hell, even your comforter was hero themed at a certain point in time. It had just always fascinated you how these people would use their quirks for the good of humanity and to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves.

Sadly, your quirk, MoodLocks, wasn’t very useful in crime-fighting. All it did was allow your hair to change colors depending on your mood. It was pretty, of course, but you had a hard time controlling it and it could never help you beat an opponent. If anything, it would give the villain an insight into your thoughts and put you at a clear disadvantage.

So, as time passed, your childish fantasies of becoming a hero did as well. It didn’t bother you anymore, as you were more than happy with the career you’d chosen. Your love of heroes was still very much present, hence why you were so nervous about today’s interview. If you got the job, not only would the pay be incredible, but you’d also get the chance to help an actual hero. Maybe you’d even get the chance to meet more of them!

You were pretty sure you had made a fairly good impression so hopefully, you would indeed get a call from the agency soon.

Walking out of the agency, you couldn’t help but let out a yawn. You’d stayed up far too late last night googling commonly asked job interview questions so you wanted nothing more than to get back to your apartment and catch up on some much-needed rest. Maybe you and your roommate could order in.

“Oh God, I am so sorry that was my fault. I just finished this super stressful interview and I’m super tired so I was not watching where I was going-” your babbling came to a sudden halt as you looked up, brain losing all ability to form coherent thoughts.

Right before your very eyes was the man who’s “a bit too fast” in all his red-winged glory. You’d seen him in interviews online, of course, you kept up with most pro hero interviews, so you knew he was handsome. However, the cameras most certainly did not do the man justice. His yellow glasses were resting on his forehead, pushing his messy (and very soft looking) blond hair back. His gold eyes seemed to be looking right into your soul, calculating yet calm.

God, you wished you could make your eyeliner look remotely similar to his.

He raised an eyebrow at you, and you realized that you’d been staring for what you could only describe as an uncomfortably long amount of time.

Before you could embarrass yourself further, the winged hero placed a gloved hand on your shoulder. He looked at the top of your head, an intrigued expression adorning his face before morphing into an easy smile, he spoke, “‘S no problem, chickadee. Good luck with your interview.”

And just like that, the hero went along his merry way.

Curious what he’d been staring at, not to mention the nickname, you looked up at your hair, which had previously been a bright shade of orange due to being anxious, was now very pink. You blanched at the thought of having lost control of your quirk so easily, in front of a cute guy pro hero who might be your future boss no less.

‘Well,’ you thought, ‘at least I can say I met Japan’s #2 hero even if I don’t get this job.’

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

Event No. 2

Much to your surprise, and pleasure, you had indeed received a call from Hawks’ agency about a week later. After several follow up interviews (much more than you were expecting, honestly, but you suppose it made since he’s such a high ranking hero) a very thorough background check, you had gotten the job.

When you had gotten the job, you had been hoping that the blond would have forgotten your first encounter, since you had literally malfunctioned right before his very eyes. The chances of him forgetting weren’t exactly small, after all. You were sure he met plenty of people every day and your interaction had been incredibly brief.

A month into your job as his secretary, you seemed to be in the clear. Sure, he knew about your quirk, since he was your employer and the ever-changing array of colors in your hair aren’t exactly subtle, but seeing as he hadn’t mentioned it so he’d probably forgotten.

You’d stayed at the agency long after your shift was overdue to a couple of low-ranking villains attempting to rob a bank. It had been an easy win for Hawks, he was in and out of there long before his sidekicks had even gotten there, but the villains had caused a lot of unnecessary damage to the building, so there was a ridiculous amount of paperwork.

You couldn’t wait to get home and change out of your stuffy work clothes and into the comfiest pair of PJs you owned. Your roommate, always a sweetheart, had been kind enough to save you some leftovers from her dinner so all you had to do was warm it up, eat, shower, and crash on your bed.

Whilst you were getting ready to head home, your boss had decided that it was only fair to walk you home, seeing as it was late. You had insisted that he didn’t need to do that, even showing him the can of pepper spray you carried around your person at all times. Still, he’d insisted, and who were you to say no?

The winged hero had originally offered to fly you home, but you’d profusely told him it wasn’t necessary. So, the two of you ended up taking the train. The two of you got a couple of weird stares from your fellow passengers, seeing as the flying hero was taking a train instead of y’know… flying and his wings took a significantly large part of the seat the two of you were occupying (it seemed uncomfortable but he didn’t mention it). Hawks seemed to either not notice or not care, opting instead to have an animated conversation with you about the best fried chicken places in Fukuoka. It was mostly him talking, but you’d add to the conversation every once in a while, and sometimes people would interrupt and ask for an autograph, which he’d sign with a carefree smile on his face.

“You don’t have to walk me home, sir,” you told him after the two of you had exited the station closest to your apartment.

“What kind of hero would I be if I let a civilian walk alone across the dark streets of Japan?” He asked you, tone light and teasing. “Also, didn’t I tell you to call me Hawks? Sir makes me feel old.”

You rolled your eyes playfully at his words, turning to the left towards your apartment. You’d get there soon and a small part of you wanted to keep the banter going for as long as possible.

“I don’t think that would be very professional of me, sir,” you said playfully. He laughed and the two of you settled into a comfortable silence while you walked.

After a moment, he shoved his hands into his coat pockets and he spoke up, “I’ve been meaning to ask you, how exactly does your quirk work?”

“Oh well, y’know, it changes color depending on my mood, so red means I’m angry, blue can mean I’m sad or calm, pink means I’m flustered or embarrassed, purple means I’m scared, etc.”

“So your hair went pink the first time we met because you were starstruck by my devilishly good looks?” He asked in a faux haughty tone. “Don’t worry, I don’t blame you.”

The asshole remembered your first encounter.

Your hair turned pink and you celebrated inwardly as you approached your apartment. As you opened the glass door to the complex, Hawks laughed at your hurry.

“Good night,” you stated, tone indignant at his laughter, as you made your way inside.”

“‘Night, Pinky.”

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

Event No. 3

Working for the red-winged hero himself was both everything you were expecting it to be and completely the opposite of it at the same time.

The hours were crazy, something you were anticipating considering villain activity had been increasing and your boss was a busy public figure. What you were certainly not anticipating, however, was that Hawks would be such a teasing little shit.

Not only had the man remembered your first encounter, but after you had explained your quirk to him (he’d asked you about it despite it being in the agency’s records since you had applied for the position, you guessed he’d done it as a way to break the ice) he’d taken it upon himself to fluster you to get your hair to go that embarrassingly bright shade of pink.

He’d call you all sorts of nicknames ranging from pinky to songbird (your favorite was by far Pinky since it feels so personal. Not that you’d ever tell him that). He’d also gotten into the habit of trying out all sorts of ridiculous pick up lines on you. The greater majority of them were bird-related, of course. Those never really got you but they did make you laugh.

The one that probably got you the most was when he’d bring you your favorite drink or lunch from a place you’d mentioned you’d like offhandedly, saying he had just been “flying by” and remembered your conversation.

You didn’t mind his flirtatious banter in the slightest. He never crossed any boundaries and kept things professional when it came to business. It was pretty fun to see what nicknames or pickup lines he had up his sleeves.

The only downside was that you’d begun to develop a slight crush on the red-winged hero. It would never lead to anything, you were well aware of that. He was not only a famous hero who was constantly under public scrutiny, but he was also your boss.

It can’t hurt to dream though.

“What’s got you so distracted?” An all too familiar broke your very him-centric train of thought. You looked up from the paperwork you’d been blankly staring at. You’d been trying to multitask between eating and doing paperwork so you wouldn’t have to take any work home. After much insistence from your roommate, who was well aware of your crush on Your boss (she’d teasingly gifted you a pair of Hawks themed PJs on your birthday), you had finally given in and agreed to let her set you up on a date with a former schoolmate of hers.

“Nothing, just thinking about a date I have tonight,” you lied, looking up from your desk to meet those lovely honey-colored eyes you spent more hours than you’d care to admit thinking about. You scanned his body language, trying to gauge his reaction. Not that you could ever get a read on him. More often than not, it was impossible to get a read on him under the visage of carefree indifference he was so well known for. In the almost half a year you’d known him you’d never once seen the hero lose his cool or show any emotion other than the ones he wanted to portray. It was kind of unfair seeing as he could get a picture-perfect look into your thoughts and emotions just by looking at the color of your hair and here you were, left grasping at straws.

He seemed to have no outward reaction other than his shoulders tensing and his eyebrows scrunching up a bit in mild distaste. It was gone so fast you were sure you must have just imagined it.

“Pinky’s got themselves a date?” he said after a moment, a slightly forced teasing tilt to his voice. He crossed his hands and placed them on the taller part of your desk and leaned his weight on them, staring down at you with a cheeky grin.

“I guess so,” you said, fiddling with your chopsticks as you continued, “I’m kind of nervous though. I haven’t got on any dates since I started working here, I’m a little rusty.”

“How come you haven’t gone on any dates?” he asked, staring at you with an intensity you weren’t quite expecting from him. “Had a special someone in mind?”

The roots of your hair went white in surprise before you managed to school them into going back to your natural hair color. It was brief but he had surely noticed.

“I’d go on lots of dates if my boss gave me more days off,” you said, pushing past the momentary lull in the conversation and giving him a pointed look.

He let out a laugh, a real and genuine one, unlike the ones he’d let out during interviews or out in public. The thought made your face heat up. It made you feel special. Even if he didn’t see you in the same way you saw him, he at least trusted you enough to be real around you. That was enough for you.

“You’ve got nothing to be nervous about, kid, any person would be lucky to land a date with someone as beautiful as you,” He stated, looking at you with a certain emotion behind his gaze that you couldn’t quite decipher. “If your date happens to go south, just give me a call and I’ll pick you up. After all, what kind of hero would I be if I didn’t look out for my secretary?”

You looked at his retreating form, your hair as pink as bubble gum and heart threatening to beat out of your rib cage. He’d just called you beautiful. He’d also said that anyone would be lucky to date you. Did that include him? Did he like you?

“Hey Hawks,” you called out, surprising both him and yourself. Despite him telling you to just call him Hawks instead of ‘sir’, you’d stuck to calling him sir for the sake of professionality. “Thanks for the offer.”

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

Event No. 4

You let out a tired sigh as you watched the number of floors go up on the tiny screen atop the doors of the elevator you were currently in.

When you had signed your contract to work at Hawks’ agency, you were aware that you would need to be accessible 24/7, however, you thought that if he did contact you at an ungodly hour, it’d be for something important, perhaps something along the lines of a press scandal or a massive villain attack that you’d need to start filing paperwork promptly so that the agency could report the casualties or cost of the destruction. You had highly doubted Hawks, Japan’s literal #2 hero would call his secretary at 3:00 a.m. in the goddamn morning and order them to bring him a bucket of fried chicken from fucking KFC.

You clearly hadn’t known the man at the time, you thought as you stared at the red and white bucket in your arms.

The elevator dinged, alerting you that you had arrived at your destination. Making your way through the hallway, you tried to figure out why your boss would be so cruel as to make you get him fast food when he had two perfectly capable wings that could take him to and from the nearest KFC faster than you ever could. You bet it’d even be warmer.

You’d need to download UberEats on his phone.

Before your fist could make contact with the door, it was swung open, surprising your half-asleep brain. Before your eyes there was a very awake looking Hawks, his eyes zeroed in on the bucket you were holding

“Hey there, chickadee,” he said in a teasing tone, resting his arm on the door frame in a very attractive manner. God, if you were just a bit more coherent and a little less sleep-deprived, your hair would be the most embarrassingly bright pink color imaginable.

Thankfully, you weren’t and you could hear your bed calling your name from across the city, so without bothering to answer, you shoved the bucket of chicken into his arms before turning around to speed your way back to your at this point cold bed.

Before you could get very far, however, Hawks had grabbed your wrist with your free hand.

“You’re not leaving already, are you?” He asked you, letting go of your wrist.

“It’s 3 in the goddamn morning, Hawks,” was your deadpan answer.

“C’mon, you wouldn’t let your poor boss eat all alone would you,” you could tell his tone was meant to be light and playful but it was lacking his usual flare.

Your concern for the overgrown pigeon won out, and with a defeated sigh, you walked into his apartment, Hawks trailing behind you, visibly pleased that you stayed.

Despite all your time working for Hawks, you’d never actually been inside of his apartment. You had come here several times before to drop off documents he needed to sign or a new schedule (because the Hero Commission apparently couldn’t send emails directly to him) but you had always left the things at his building's front desk.

Hawks’ apartment was… emptier than you had expected it to be. It was nice, the furniture was obviously high quality, not that it was surprising considering he was a high ranking hero, but it lacked a personal touch. It had no pictures or knick-knacks in sight. It felt more like a house instead of an actual home.

“So, how’d your date go?” Hawks inquired once the two of you settled in his living room, him on the couch and you in the armchair next to it. He picked up a piece of chicken, offering it to you. However, it was far too early to even think about consuming food, so you politely declined.

“It was fine. He was nice,” you answered.

To be honest the date had gone well. He’d been nice, a complete gentleman. He’d taken you to a nice restaurant, he was great in conversation, he’d even walked you home but at the end of the night, the two of you had agreed that there was just no chemistry between the two of you whatsoever. You had decided to just stay friends.

“There won’t be a second one, though,” you added after a beat of silence.

“Good,” your eyes widened at his words and suddenly you had an epiphany.

Hawks had been jealous. He was jealous because he liked you. That’s why he had asked you to come here.

Before you could voice your thoughts, he spoke again, a sly smirk on his face, “By the way, I love your pajamas. I wasn’t aware you were such a fan.”

Your hair turned pink, as it often did whenever Hawks was around when you looked down at your clothes. In your haste to get Hawks his food so you could go back to bed, you had forgone changing clothes. You hadn’t realized you were wearing the Hawks themed PJs your roommate had gotten you as a gag gift. They were mustard-colored with lots of cute red feathers and tiny Hawks chibi heads scattered around the fabric.

He would never let you live this down.

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

Event No. 5

Following the KFC event, the two of you hadn’t spoken about the situation further. At this point, you were well aware of his feelings for you, and you hadn’t exactly been subtle about liking him. The two of you just hadn’t spoken about it. You weren’t official but there was an unspoken rule that neither of you would go on dates with other people.

You were fine with it. Really, you were.

Except that you were definitely not okay with it and you were very much upset that he had just answered that he was single when the lady that had interviewed him had asked him if he was seeing anyone.

Rationally, you understood why he said no. You weren’t official and saying yes would just throw the media into a frenzy while they speculated who he was seeing. You remember how crazy everyone went a couple of months ago when pictures of Mirko and Hawks in their street clothes hanging out started circulating on Twitter. They were trending for weeks, and you had had to answer call after call, explaining that no, they are not dating and no, they don’t have time to go on the 8:00 a.m. news to answer questions about what it was like to date as pro heroes.

On the other hand, you were tired of dancing around each other. You were aware that dating a pro hero would come with hectic schedules and even some danger, but you didn’t care.

“So I was thinking you could come over and we can watch that hero documentary you told me to watch- hey are you mad at me?” Hawks asked, brows furrowed as in confusion.

“No, I’m not angry at you,” you answered, putting your stuff away and heading to the agency’s doors. You were more than ready to go back to your apartment and there was a pint of your favorite ice cream waiting for you in the freezer with your name on it.

“You totally are,” he scoffed, following after you.

“No, I'm not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I am not.”

“Yes, you are.” Your overgrown pigeon of a boss insisted, mimicking your tone, “If you’re not angry then why is your hair red?”

With a sigh, you spoke, failing to hide the snarky tone to your voice “So what if I am angry? Why do you care? It’s not like we’re dating or anything.” You walked out onto the sidewalk.

“Oh, that’s what you're upset about?” He asked, realization dawning upon his features. When you didn’t answer he kept talking, “You of all people know why I didn’t say anything.”

“I know. It’s just- nothing, never mind. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” You told him, looking away with a defeated sigh.

You were about to walk away before he stopped you by placing his glove cladded hand

“At least let me take you home,” it wasn’t much of a question, but you nodded anyways.

All of a sudden, you let out a shrill scream when he picked you up bridal style, hands instinctively clasping on to his coat to assure you wouldn’t fall.

“What are you doing?”

“Taking you home,” he explained as if it were obvious. Before you had a chance to argue he set off into the sky.

You couldn’t hear anything but the wind in your ears and his heartbeat, but you finally understood why he loved flying so much. Exhilarating was the only word you could use to describe it. And cold. It was also really cold. You understood why he walked around with such a heavy coat now. You snuggled more into him, trying to get some more warmth, which caused Hawks to tighten his hold on you. The affectionate gesture alone had your hair going a shade of pink.

You got to your apartment building much faster than you ever would by taking the train, something that you regretted a bit since it meant he’d let go of you.

“Look, Hawks,” you started, “maybe we should-“

“Keigo,” he said, effectively cutting you off,

“W-what?” You spluttered, caught off guard.

“I want you to call me Keigo,” he said with a sense of finality, looking into your eyes with an emotion you couldn’t quite read, or at least one that you were just choosing to ignore. It’d just make what you were about to suggest harder.

“Look, Hawks,” you started, opening the door that led to the stairs, “I really like you, hell, maybe even more than that, and I want to be with you but I don’t want to be whatever we are right now forever.”

Ignoring the way his wings physically dropped at your words, you closed the door behind you and headed to your apartment.

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

Event No. 1

Once you got home, you immediately stripped out of your work clothes and into your Hawks-themed pajamas (because they're the comfiest, not because they remind you of him, obviously) and you’d taken out your ice cream and went to town on it. Your roommate had noticed the dark blue that had taken over your hair but you’d brushed her off, saying it was nothing to worry about. She’d been doubtful, but she had a night shift so she left, but not before making you promise to call her if you needed to.

You’d spent the rest of the evening eating your ice cream and watching tv before deciding to get some sleep so you would feel at least a little less sorry for yourself tomorrow.

You were currently in your room, scrolling through your phone on your bed before calling it a day when you started to hear a tapping sound. You’d ruled it out to be some tree branch knocking against your window due to the wind. However, the longer you ignored it the more incessant it became.

You nearly fell out of your bed when you realized it was Hawks, your boss, the #2 pro hero of Japan, tapping on your window while squatting on your fire escape.

You got up, heading towards your window and unlocking it before pushing it up. You helped him in before sitting down on the bed and motioning for him to do the same. An awkward silence filled the air, neither of you was quite sure of what you should say.

“Hawks, what are-“ you started before being cut off by him.

“Look, Pinky, I love you so much it scares the shit out of me,” he declared. Your hair went the brightest shade of pink it had ever been at his words.

He played with the embroidered design of the throw blanket you kept in your bed. You don’t think you’ve ever seen the red-winged hero so vulnerable in all your time knowing him.

“But there’s a lot of crap that comes with my job and I could never forgive myself if I brought you into it and you got hurt. So-“ before he could finish speaking, you grabbed onto his coat’s collar with both of your hands and crashed your lips against his.

You’d waited almost an entire year for this. One thing was for certain, it was well worth the wait. You loved every single thing about him. And he loved you. That was all you needed.

After a beat, you pulled away, choosing instead to cup his cheek in an adoring manner. The two of you looked at each other with nothing short of pure unadulterated adoration.

“I love you Keigo,” you spoke his name for the first time, “as long as you’re by my side I don’t care about what happens.”

His reaction was, for lack of a better word, cute. His honey eyes were wide in shock, his face as red as his wings, and his aforementioned wings were puffed up in shock. Now you understood why he loved teasing you so much.

“So, do you wanna watch the documentary?” You asked him, walking out of your room and into the living room with a victorious smirk.

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #hawks x reader #takami keigo x reader #keigo takami x reader #keigo x reader #takami x reader #hawks #keigo takami #takami keigo #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha fluff #bnha fluff #secret santa fic #patt’s creations

224 notes · View notes

midnightsnace · 3 years

Text

A Thousand Worlds

Summary: Fix it fic of sorts after the trauma that was episode 6 of the Loki series. Loki is in pain after discovering Mobius doesn’t remember him. He’s been living in apocalypses to avoid capture by this new TVA until he formulates a plan to get his Mobius back.

Rating: T for later chapters

Emotional angst.

Chapter One.

Chapter Two.

“And so that’s where I grew up, the ends of a thousand worlds.”

The ends of a thousand worlds. The words of his accomplice echoed through the god’s mind as he fiddled with the straps of his worn and tattered holster. The fluorescent above him flickered with every gust of wind that battled against the sides of the building that Loki was crouched down in. He slid his long legs out against the tiled floor in front of him and sat with his head propped against the wall. He sighed. Loki tapped his foot on the door of the space he was hiding in to close it, drowning out the cries of fear from the people outside in their final hours of life. There he sat waiting for the tempad to charge. Alone. Living in another world where every person he met would be dead by the end of the day. Another world where Mobius didn’t exist. His Mobius.

Was this what it was like? For her? To never be able to stay in one place for more than a day? To always see the same faces riddled with fear as they awaited their painful fate? To only know destruction, screaming, fires, earthquakes, the literal gates of hel? To be utterly alone with your only desire to live in the hope that one day your glorious purpose would be fulfilled?

Glorious purpose.

Loki scoffed. The god didn’t know what his purpose was anymore. Taking down the TVA was a complete failure. The chances for fixing the mess they started seemed impossible now as branches grew and new timelines erupted, with endless TVAs to monitor every universe. At least, that’s what Loki assumed. He knew next to nothing about what they had unleashed. It wasn’t the same TVA. Different hunters, different analysts, different ruler. Many he recognized, but they were still different people. They weren’t the same. She wasn’t the real B. He wasn’t his Mobius. And Loki was at a complete loss on how to find them again.

The first tempad he stole only brought him back to the place he snatched it from. The same Time Variance Authority where Mobius didn’t remember him and not a single file existed for Loki Laufeyson, God of Mischief, God of Outcasts, God of Lies. Even when he dragged the analyst through the timedoor into the roxxcart parking lot to access his memories, nothing existed of him. No laughter over silly metaphors, mischief at pompeii, not even the memory of their first encounter in the elevator. It was like they never met. This led to Loki wasting away their days hopping from one disaster to the next until his brain racked up a solution. The TVA never once did follow him. Why would they? No one remembered his brilliant discovery about the apocalypses. He could run free. But as the days whittled by, the hope Loki had began to fade into nothingness.

For awhile he kept track of the places he went and the time that had passed.

Day 1 - I finally stole a tempad and left that dreadful place. I came here first. Hoping I’d see you. But I guess that’s not how time travel works in apocalypses. No trace we were ever here. The storm reminded me of my brother. I hope to see him again one day. Now that I know we could have been friends. Everything was eventually going to be okay.

Day 24 - I’ve been sitting in a coffee shop awaiting the earthquake of 2098. Met a lovely redhead with the most peculiar of tattoos. But alas! Little does she know this friendship could never blossom in the wake of death!

Day 37 - I miss him. My brother. The pain that solitude brings makes me think of home more often. How ironic that the very place that caused me the most pain I miss. But anything is better than this. So today I visited home right before its destruction. I saw my brother. I saw Thor from afar. Oh how I wish I could have talked to him somehow and tell him i’m sorry for being such an ass.

Being there brought back memories of the silly metaphor he made using Mobius’ lunch. The corners of Loki’s mouth crept into a smile at the thought. But that smile faded away in the next second and was replaced with tears.

Day 56 - I went to Pompeii again. I stood in the shadows. I tried to picture your expressions of skepticism at my insane ideas. I tried to picture how your face lit up with pride and joy when you realized I was right. I wish I could have stayed longer but I never can anywhere I go.

He whistled like a bird before he exited through the time door.

By day 125 he had lost his will to live again. It was their fourth visit to Lamentis-1. Perhaps it was a mistake on his part to journey here once more and feel both the pains of betrayal and heartache at the prospect of never seeing Mobius again. The second time they had visited Lamentis, the god decided to stay until the very last second with the false hope that maybe him facing death would create a nexus event. His mobius would come find him and save him at the last second. But the time door never came. Maybe it was because he knew there was a chance to escape and he could take it. Or maybe it was because there were so many time branches no one would care to fix a world that was about to end.

“You were always meant to be alone.”

And so this time Loki threw the tempad to the ground and waited. He watched as the lethal disaster unfolded before his eyes once more, ready to die. Alone. Alone with no one to assure him everything will be alright in the face of death. Not a single soul would know he was gone. No one would care.

But at the last second they saw something on the tempad that made them change their mind. A glimmer of hope.

Any hope Loki had, a glorious purpose he had left to fulfill, it was in finding Mobius. It was the only desire left that fueled him to keep existing. He was all that mattered. His only friend. The only person left among the universes who trusted him and saw beyond his flaws. The only person left who hadn’t betrayed the fragile levels of trust the god could give. He was his hope that one day, he wouldn’t have to be alone.

And so he found himself walking the streets of New York in the summer of 2197, on the brink of some disaster he knew nothing about. Not a single idea when it would happen, where it would occur, and what he was doomed to witness. He saw something that could potentially lead him to his destination. The tempad had given him an alert for an aura match - two of the same people in one place. An oddity. Something that wasn’t supposed to exist.

They weren’t just any entity either. They were registered hunters in the TVA database. Which meant one had to be from another universe.

And he knew the TVA would be coming for them.

He had to get there first.

Loki speed walked down the sidewalk frantically scanning his surroundings for any clue as to what was happening. He couldn’t read any signs of fear or confusion on the faces of those who passed him. He didn’t know how much time he had.

Upon hearing shouts of anger, Loki broke out into a run across the street towards the source, dodging every dystopian vehicle that nearly collided with him in the process. It was coming from the roof of the parking tower. With a snap of his magic, Loki teleported himself to the top, hiding behind a parked vehicle to assess what he was working with.

There were two agents standing about 10 feet away who looked nearly identical, one waving her arms frantically while the other looked on stoically, possibly from shock, with a pruning stick in hand. Loki locked eyes on the tempad fastened to the belt of the frantic one. Then he glanced at the one in the other hunter’s hand.

Well shit.

Now he had to figure out which agent had jumped from the other timeline. He quickly flashed himself closer to the two, but not before one caught on that someone was there.

“I was given orders by a man to…what was that?” one of the hunters asked.

Loki crouched down farther on the other side of the wall. He reached for a dagger, ready to pounce once their suspicions subsided. They listened intently to the words from the first hunter for the first clue on who to attack.

“He sent me here to grab this,” the hunter pulled up someone on her tempad, “entity and leave. Those were the orders given to me. So if you’ll excuse me.”

The other hunter planted herself in front of her clone. “I can’t let you do that. Not until you’ve told me everything I want to know. How are you me? How is this possible?”

The first hunter was from an alternate timeline. Loki took that as his cue. But before he could sneak behind the hunter, he was shot backwards by a blast of energy from a ring of light.

Out from the ring stepped a peculiar man with graying hair who was wearing blue robes and an assymetrical cloak that sparked the curiosity of the confused hunter. Within a split second, the portal closed behind him. Loki laid very still on the concrete and held his breath in the hopes that the man would believe him to be dead.

“You know I can tell when someone is playing dead.”

Loki grimaced and winced as he heaved himself off the ground. He came face to face with the strange man, his hand lingering in the air where he placed the pocket for his dagger.

“You.” was all the man said.

“Am I supposed to know you?” the god questioned.

“You always manage to show up in New York again at the most in-opportune times.” The man raised his hands and Loki mimicked his movements, summoning his daggers in place.

“I’m gonna assume we’ve met before sir, perhaps in the future? I don’t know! And i’m terribly sorry about New York! Look let me explain…” they lowered their hands in their attempt to make peace with the angry man in front of him.

“Dr. Strange.” He kept his fist in the air, golden sparks flying from whatever spell he had in mind to attack the prince with. “And until you prove otherwise Im going to assume you are here for hostile reasons.”

Loki blinked. Well he’s kind of not wrong, they thought.

“Well I’m afraid I can’t prove anything else.” and with that the god blasted the sorcerer into the nearest column with their magic and teleported across the space.

Loki noticed that one of the hunters had disappeared. He assumed she had returned to the TVA. The other was charging towards him fast. He whipped out his daggers to face his attacker, but suddenly his feet were dragged out from under him and he hit the concrete hard. He was being dragged backwards, body scrapping against the concrete. So fast, that the god could barely think about what was happening to him.

When he came to his senses he cut the magic ropes with his powers and rolled across the ground. So he was dealing with another magic user, this “Dr. Strange.” Loki teleported again before he was up on his feet to where he was standing directly behind the hunter.

“D-11…” Dr. Strange said with a hint of caution in his tone.

So this was the man Hunter D-11 was working for. Before the hunter could turn around to face them, Loki snatched the tempad off her belt and snapped himself to the furthest side of the building. Dr. Strange reacted quickly and stood his ground in front of Loki, prepared to attack again.

“Loki, perhaps we can work out some type of deal. What is it that you want? Maybe I can help you. Maybe we can reach a compromise.”

Offer him a deal? Nah.

“I’m done trusting people I’ve just met. All they ever do is stab me in the back.” he conjured the time door behind him.

Strange titled his head. “You do realize we can follow you right straight back to the TVA?”

Loki turned to face him and D-11. “You’ll never find me. You won’t know the first place to look.” The time door closed with Loki inside of it, before the two even had a chance to reach their hands out to follow the god.

…….

And that’s how Loki had ended up here. At Roxxcart again, waiting for the new tempad to charge up before hopping through timelines again.

He breathed in deeply as he felt the bubble of excitement, relief, and happiness build in his chest for the first time in months at the prospect of achieving his goal. Being reunited with the only one who mattered: Mobius. His Mobius.

But as he released his breath in a sigh, his chest tightened again and worry clouded his mind. What if this didn’t work? What if this was just another dead end? What if this was just another one of the countless TVAs that might exist in the vast multiverse?

At first, all Loki felt was sadness and regret in the days following Sylvie’s betrayal. But now all he felt was anger boiling deep inside him. That same unwelcome feeling he experienced after discovering his father lied to him. The feeling that harbored in the abyss of Thanos’ chambers. The feeling that never left his soul until Mobius looked him in the eyes and assured him that he didn’t have to be the villain in his story.

She had taken everything from him and he was afraid he couldn’t wash away the resentment this time. He wanted desperately to feel anything besides the pain he had known for the past year.

He needed to feel love again.

“He cares about you.”

Loki couldn’t wait any longer. He picked up the tempad and tapped the time door request for the TVA home base. He drew in a shaky breath as he paused in front of the portal.

This was it.

He was either about to be reunited with his greatest source of happiness, or find himself hiding in apocalypses again for months as he searched for another plan.

And he would do it. He would search through a thousand worlds to find him.

39 notes · View notes

aliendes · 4 years

Text

BTS reacts to saying something hurtful and then regretting it PT.2

Anon: Hi Angel🥺 i adore your writing and i was wondering if you were going to make a part 2 to the BTS reacts to saying something hurtful I looooove part 1🥺

Anon: Absolutely loved the most recent reaction !! DEFINITELY NEED A PART TWO

Anon: Could YOU PLEASEEEEE DO a part two for the bts reaction where they something hurtful😭😭😭 but fluffy ending if possible, I LITERALLY LOVE YOUR WRITING

Anon: Hi dude, I was wondering if you would do a pt.2 to BTS reacts to saying something hurtful and then regretting it, pls do it if you're still thinking bout it!

A/N: ok damn I didn't think you’d want a second part this badly lol but here it is! * I’m sorry this is so shit, this was supposed to be posted earlier today, but I worked from home today because someone at my work was diagnosed with COVID yesterday, which is scary. But then I’ve had a migraine all day, and fell asleep for SIX hours!? That never happens. So sorry it’s so late, not that you guys know that, but still and sorry it’s shit.

Warnings: angsssssst, fluff, mentions of sex, but no sex, cursing, mentions of cheating in the past, mentions of blood and stiches, a lot of these deal with another member being YN’s best friend, sorry it made things easier D: *unedited as per usual

Word count: 6.7k ~

In your rush to leave the apartment, you hadn’t realized you left your phone plugged in on your nightstand. Now it’s been over an hour you’ve been walking around the streets of Seoul, no way to call your sister, who would likely come pick you up. It’s not like it mattered, you didn’t really want to talk to anyone anyways. You just wanted to walk. It was your coping mechanism for a lot of things; anger, fear, sadness, anxiety. You were feeling a mixture of all of those things, and walking was a relief to you right now.

You continued walking for a little while longer, not realizing that your feet had taken you to your best friend’s apartment building. Letting out a heavy sigh, you figure you might as well crash here, you know Yoongi won't mind.

Entering the fancy looking building, you pass the guard sitting near the front entrance, showing him your ID, which you thankfully had with you. You knew you were always on the list of approved visitors, and he was shortly letting you up the elevator.

When you reached your best friend’s door, you held your hand up to knock, but before your fist could make contact with the wood, it was being swung open.

“YN! Oh my God!”

Your eyes widened in shock as you took a step backwards, not expecting to see him here. “Jin?”

Your tall boyfriend steps over the threshold of Yoongi’s apartment, lifting his arms to hug you, but thinks better of it and drops them to his side. You can see dried tear tracks on his face, red rimmed eyes, and a purple bitten lower lip, all signs that he’s been crying, hard.

“YN, I’m so sorry,” he sobs, letting fresh tears roll down his cheeks, “I-I was so worried, y-you-”

His mumbling is cut off by a firm hand on his shoulder, making his eyes fall shut as he lets the sobs rack his chest. “Come on, man,” Yoongi says stiffly behind him, “go wash yourself up.” Nodding his head, Jin turns around with one last sad glance in your direction, and disappears down the dimly lit hallway.

Yoongi watches him for a moment before turning to you, gesturing into his apartment with a nod of his head. You hesitate for a moment, briefly wondering if you should just leave, but decide your feet hurt and it’s too chilly to start walking again. Reluctantly, you follow your best friend into his living room and plop down on the couch. Following you shortly after, Yoongi falls next to you, an arm wrapping around your shoulders.

“He told me what happened,” he says flatly, looking at you in the eyes, “he feels like shit.”

“Good,” was all you could say in response, crossing your arms over your chest. You were done being sad, now you were angry.

Yoongi sighs next to you, “YN, I know you’re upset. You have every right to be, trust me. But you love him, and he loves you. Right?”

You want to refute him, but he’s right. You both love each other more than anything, you know that. Nodding your head, your bottom lip juts out slightly and starts to wobble. Yoongi squeezes your shoulders at the sight, “I think the two of you should talk it out, hmm?” You nod again, not trusting your voice. “You guys can crash in the spare room, I’ll head out to the studio.”

“You don’t-”

“YN, it wasn’t an offer, it was a statement.”

Knowing how stubborn your best friend was, you shut up and nodded your head again, letting him stand up and grab his jacket.

“You know I love you both,” Yoongi said, hand on the doorknob, “but I will be upset if you fuck on my furniture.”

You scoff, head twisting back to glare at him, but he was already gone. Shaking your head, you let it fall back onto the plush sofa as you wait for your boyfriend to emerge from wherever he was.

It felt like hours later when you opened your sleepy eyes, realizing you’d fallen asleep on Yoongi’s living room couch. Blinking a few times, you turn, only to realize you’re laying sideways, and you’re in a warm embrace.

“Jin?” you mumble, sleepily, as you look behind you at your boyfriend’s sullen expression.

Closing his eyes and sighing through his nose, he lays his forehead against your shoulder. “I’m sorry, YN,” he whispers, voice cracking slightly, “I’m so sorry. You know I love you, right?”

Turning around in his loose grasp, you hear the squeak of the couch underneath you. Pressing one hand against Jin’s firm chest, you bring the other up to cup his wet cheek.

“Yes, Jin,” you mumble, making him open his eyes to stare into your own, “I do.”

“I don’t deserve you,” he cries softly, “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too,” you mumble, leaning forward to press a kiss on his nose, “I know you didn’t mean it. I’m sorry for running away.”

He shakes his head, pressing his plush lips to your forehead, “No, don’t apologize. I was just so fucking worried when I got to Yoongi’s and you weren’t here. I thought - I thought something happened to you, you always come here when you’re upset.”

You bit at the inside of your cheek, contemplating his words for a moment. “Yeah, I guess I just got lost in my thoughts,” you chuckle darkly, “but I’m okay, and I love you.”

Another tear rolls down Seokjin’s nose, “I’m so glad I have you in my life, YN. I don’t know what I’d do with myself if I lost you.” He sniffles, making you reach up and wipe at his tears.

“Then we’re lucky you’ll never have to find out.”

Jungkook and Yoongi are both jogging down the streets near the company building, trying to find where you went. Yoongi was about to have a full blown panic attack when he realized you had completely fled the building with no phone or bag. He was beside himself with grief, his mind turning to the worst case scenarios immediately.

After not finding you in the immediate vicinity of the building, he and Jungkook split up, Jungkook going to look at your best friend’s house, and Yoongi going to check your apartment. He brought your bag with him, which included your keys. He knew you wouldn’t be able to get into your home without them, and felt terrible that you might be wandering around the city, alone with no way to contact anyone.

Your bag and jacket in hand, Yoongi took the elevator up to your floor, hoping beyond all hope that he would find you somewhere around here. As he stepped off the elevator, his ears immediately perked up at the sound of light sniffles. Rushing out of the elevator doors, Yoongi stops dead in his tracks at the sight of you, sitting on the floor, back leaned against your apartment door, hugging your knees to your chest. Your forehead is resting on the tops of your bent knees, so you haven’t noticed him yet. He can tell you’re crying by the uneven breaths you take. His heart breaks, completely crumbles in his chest at the site of you attempting to curl in on yourself.

He instantly rushed forward, dropping your bag and jacket onto the ground next to you, and fell to his knees in front of you. His hands reach out and as he places both of his hands on your shoulders, your head jerks up, startling at the sight of your crying boyfriend.

“Y-Yoongi?” your eyes are so swollen and your vision is so blurry, you think for a moment you might be seeing things.

“Yes, baby,” he whispers, “I’m here, I’m right here.” He watches as realization slowly takes hold of you, your face falling and twisting into a pained expression, almost like you’re disgusted he’s in front of you.

You sniffle loudly, turning your head away from him, not wanting him to see what a mess he’s made of you. “Please go away,” you murmur into the empty hallway. You don’t see it, but Yoongi’s face falls even more as he realizes you really don’t want him near you. You never shy away from his physical affection, even when you’re upset with him.

“YN, please,” he begs, hands sliding down your shoulders and your arms, eventually reaching your hands as he gently takes them in his, “let me take you inside, at least.”

Without looking at him, you nod, letting him help you stand with the grip he has on your hands. He lets go of one of your hands and bends over to grab your bag and jacket before getting your keys out and opening your door. You let him lead you inside and into your kitchen, you let him sit you down at your kitchen table, and you let him make you a cup of tea. You don’t take your eyes off a water ring stained to your wooden dining table the entire time, and it isn’t missed by Yoongi.

“I didn’t mean it,” Yoongi whispers as he sits down across from you, setting your favorite RJ mug on the table, “If you want me to leave, I’ll leave, but I need you to know that I didn’t mean what I said.” You slowly looked up at him, eyes still devoid of emotion. He winced at the fact that he did this to you. “YN, you have every right to hate me, to kick me out, to slap me if you want,” he takes a deep breath, “but you are not crazy. You are not like your mother. You are beautiful, funny, smart, and the most caring woman I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. Being with you has made me a better person, and there is no one in the entire world more deserving than you of love. I’m an asshole, and I used your insecurities against you for a stupid fucking reason. I regret it more than anything, YN.” He was crying by the end of his speech, looking down at his hands folded in his lap. The left side of his lips were doing that twitchy thing they did when he was upset, and you instantly felt the need to embrace him.

Standing up slowly, you move towards your sulking boyfriend, and put your hand on his shoulder. He looks up at you, bewildered that you are even touching him. “I don’t forgive you,” you start, making Yoongi’s hope dissipate, “yet. But that doesn’t mean I don’t love you. What you did was fucked up, Yoongs.” You whisper the last part, eyes starting to well up again.

Yoongi pulls you down onto his lap, swinging your legs over his lap and hugging onto your middle tightly. “I know. Trust me, I know. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I promise you I will work every day to gain your trust back.” You lean your head on his shoulder, nodding your head. You weren’t about to forgive him after what he did, but you weren’t about to lose what the two of you had either.

“I love you,” he sniffles, kissing your forehead, “and I’m sorry.”

You didn’t get far before your feet started killing you in your work heels. You made it a couple blocks away before you couldn’t walk any further, and sat down on a park bench. To make matters worse, it had started sprinkling as you sat there. You didn’t have your phone, or a will to get up, so you sat there and sulked in the rain. You figured you would eventually get up and head back to your apartment and fall asleep, but for now you just needed to think.

Tears slowly rolled down your cheeks as you contemplated your relationship with Hoseok. He is usually so bright and bubbly, seeing him so angry scares you. On top of that, he called you dumb. You knew he would never harm you physically, but then again, you thought you knew he would never harm you emotionally either, yet he did exactly that today.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t hear the light footsteps nearing your bench over the light drizzle of rain. Nor did you feel the presence of someone sitting next to you, just as drenched as you were.

Suddenly, you feel a warmth on your knee, making you startle violently, wiping at your face with your already wet long sleeve. It was no use, you were just making yourself more wet. You jumped so hard you caused the owner of the hand to pull away instantly.

“Hoseok?” you ask, blinking through tears, lips trembling due to the cold and your emotions. Looking up at him, you see he’s in no better condition. Eyes swollen and leaking, lip red and bitten, a habit of his when he’s anxious. He has the hand suspended in midair that was previously on your knee, and he looked almost like he was afraid to touch you.

“Baby,” he mutters, though you can barely hear him as the rain starts to pick up, “please come home, you’re going to get sick. I can stay at Jin’s place tonight if that makes you more comfortable.” He sounded completely broken to say those words, like if he spoke them it made it true that he made you uncomfortable.

At the thought, you furrow your brows. Did you feel uncomfortable with Hoseok? You didn’t think so. Disappointed? Sure. But not uncomfortable.

You shake your head lightly, reaching out to grab his hand in yours. He almost flinches away from your touch, so startled that you would initiate contact right now, but he composes himself and allows you to rest your hands in your lap.

“I’m not uncomfortable,” you mutter, gnawing on your bottom lip, “I know you wouldn’t hurt me like that.”

Hoseok looks even more distraught at your words. “But that’s the thing, I’m a fucking idiot. I shouldn’t have hurt you in any way, not just physically. It’s clear that I hurt you with my words, and I’m such a dipshit for doing so. I made a promise never to hurt you, and I broke that promise.”

He was right, he had promised that. Years ago when you first started dating, you had major trust issues because of your cheating ex. Hoseok had taken things slow with you and made sure that you trusted him fully before taking your relationship any further. You were thankful for him, thankful for how caring he was.

Tears were leaking from your eyes again, mixing with the rain water falling onto your face. “Let me take you home, please, YN?” He sounded so desperate, so small, like if you told him no it would break him.

Staring him in the eye, you nod your head. He lets out a relieved sigh as he stand ups, pulling you with him.

Once the two of you make it home, Hoseok leads you into the bathroom, both of you cold and shivering. Sitting you down on the side of the tub, he reaches over and turns the knob to turn on the hot water and then pours your honey bubble bath into the stream of water. The smell instantly relaxes you and you let your eyes slip closed as you sigh lightly. Before you could open your eyes, you hear the door to the bathroom opening again.

“Wait,” you rush out, snapping your eyes to Hoseok’s retreating frame. He stops, turning around to face you, lips blue from the cold. “Please,” you beg quietly, “stay.”

Hoseok looks conflicted. He looks like he wants to stay, so badly, but he also looks like he might make a run for it at any moment. “A-are you sure, YN? I can go to Jin’s for tonight, give you some space.”

“Do you love me?” The question surprises you as much as it surprises Hoseok. It slipped from your lips without your permission, giving away how you truly felt because of his words earlier.

“More than anything,” he answers instantly, dropping his hold on the door knob, “do you think I don’t?”

Hoseok takes a few steps towards your still shivering frame and reaches out to wipe tears from your cheekbones that you hadn’t even noticed were falling. “YN, I am so sorry if I ever made you feel like I don’t love you. I was angry earlier. I had a shit day and that is no excuse for the things I said to you, okay? Don’t let me make excuses for myself. But do not ever think that I don’t love you because of what I said.” His words were soft, yet firm. You could tell he meant everything he said. Sniffling, you nod your head in affirmation. When he stands straight again and goes to walk away, you grab his wrist quickly.

“P-please Hobi,” you whimper, “don’t leave me.”

“Oh Angel,” he says, sitting on the bathroom floor in front of you, “I would never leave you. I just thought you’d want some time to think.” He spoke so softly you could barely hear him over the running of the bathtub behind you.

You shake your head quickly, “I don’t want time to think. I want to talk about it, work it out. Together.”

He smiles sadly down at you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. “I don’t deserve you, you know?”

You return the gesture, wrapping your arms around his tiny waist. “I know,” you whisper into his chest, “take a bath with me?”

“Of course, love.”

It’s been two weeks since you’ve been back to your apartment. Since the incident at work, you’ve been consistently working from home, so you’ve been staying with your sister since you and Namjoon got into the fight.

He’s tried to contact you multiple times, sent you countless texts, and even tried to show up to your sister’s apartment about a week ago. You’ve completely ignored him, other than the one text you sent telling him you were safe and not to worry. You had packed all your essentials so you haven’t needed to go home yet, though you figure you will soon.

You were working on your laptop when you heard your phone buzz on the table next to you.

From: Jimin [2:37 pm]: hey YN

From: Jimin [2:37 pm]: can you come over?

You [2:39 pm]: to the dorms?

From: Jimin [2:41 pm]: yeah, we need to talk to you

You set your phone face down on the table. You felt like they were tricking you into seeing Namjoon. You just weren’t ready to face him yet. You knew you would eventually, you still love him with all your heart, but you really just needed time.

*Bzz*

From: Jimin [2:48 pm]: he won’t be here, I promise

From: Jimin [2:49 pm]: please

You sigh after reading his last message. You loved the boys, you truly did. You knew that they wanted to talk about Joon, but still, it was hard for you to say no to them. Especially Jimin, which is probably why they had him text you.

You [2:55 pm]: ok I’ll be there at 5

From: Jimin [2:56 pm]: thank you!!

When you arrived at the dorms, the door was unlocked. Knowing they were expecting you, you let yourself in, slipping your sneakers off at the door and making your way towards the sound of voices in the kitchen.

When you walked into the dining area, the three men sitting at the table all turned to look at you. You were met with Jin, Jungkook, Yoongi, and Jimin.

“Uh,” you started dumbly, “what’s up guys?” You held onto the strap of your bag a little tighter, unsure of what was to come.

“Hey YN,” Jin said, getting up and walking towards you, pulling you into a tight hug, “we’ve missed you.”

You had to bite your lip to start tears from springing to your eyes. Jin was the most sincere person you’ve ever met, and you knew he meant it when he said it. It hurt you worse than you thought it would, seeing them. You missed them, too. Though you missed Joon more.

“Come sit down,” Jimin said softly from the table, “we’ll be quick. Promise.”

“Is Joon here?” Your voice cracked slightly, making Yoongi raise an eyebrow as you sat down across from him.

“He’s with Hobi-hyung and Tae-hyung in the studio,” Jungkook says from next to Yoongi.

You nod your head and set your back at your feet, folding your hands in your lap. Jin takes a seat next to you, with Jimin at the head of the table. “What did you want to talk about?”

All four men shared a look before Yoongi spoke up, “Namjoon isn’t doing okay, YN.”

Your head snapped up at this, worry filling your eyes. Jungkook was quick to speak up, “He’s not hurt, YN. Don’t worry. We’re just really worried about him.” He was gnawing on his lip and it made you nervous.

“He hasn’t been eating properly,” Jin whispers from next to you, “or sleeping.”

“He’s been staying at the studio sometimes all night,” Jimin says, “and he’s been staying here.”

This shocked you more than anything else they’ve told you. The reason you and Joon got an apartment is because he wanted his own space. He loved his members, but he liked time to be alone. He hasn’t lived with them in years.

“He says the apartment smells like you,” Yoongi says, dark eyes staring into yours, “YN, he’s hurting. Bad. What he did was fucked up, but don’t you think he deserves a chance to make it right?”

“Yoongi,” Jin cautions from next to you.

“No, Jin-hyung,” Yoongi cuts in, “I know he hurt you, YN, but he regrets it so much. I’ve never, in all my years knowing him, seen him this affected by something. I’m begging you, please talk to him.”

You worry your bottom lip between your teeth, tears threatening to fall. Jimin gets up and walks around the table to you and wraps an arm around your shoulders as you look at the other three men in front of you. Nodding, you let a single tear fall into your lap. “Okay.”

You decided to wait in Namjoon’s dorm room for him to get home, while Yoongi made up an excuse for why they needed them. When you heard the front door open and the baritone of Taehyung’s voice carry throughout the house, you braced yourself to see Namjoon for the first time in weeks.

The minute he walked through the door and saw you, tears were rolling down your face. Neither of you said a word as you ran to each other and crashed into the other’s arms. You didn’t realize how much you missed the sobbing man in your arms until you were both on the floor in a heap of bodies, crying into the other’s shoulder.

“YN,” he sobbed, “ar-are you actually here?” The sound of disbelief in his voice broke your heart. You could feel he’s lost a bit of weight, and he looked absolutely exhausted when he walked through the door, but the brokenness in his voice is what hurt the most.

“Oh Joon,” you pulled back from him to look into his tired eyes, “of course I’m here. I never left, not like that.”

He was biting at his lips, tears falling down his face and onto your laps as he nodded. “YN, I’m so sorry,” he says, bringing his hands from around your back and holding both of yours in his own, “I can’t believe I said such mean things to you, and over something so stupid.”

You gently shush him as you rub your thumb against the top of his hand. “It’s okay Joon,” you soothe, “we were both being stupid. You were right, I shouldn’t nag you just because I’m home more often now.”

“Please don’t apologize, baby,” he whispers, “I promise to do better and to make you happy.”

“Me too, Joon, me too.” You stare into each other’s eyes, a silent promise, before your lips are crashing onto his in a passionate kiss.

It didn’t take long for Hoseok to find you sitting in your car in the parking lot. You locked yourself in there when you decided you were in no shape to drive, crying into your steering wheel at the events that just took place.

Hoseok had coaxed you out of the car after a few minutes and now the two of you were sitting in his recording studio, while he told you about how Jimin had been lectured by their dance teacher, one of the things that gets his self esteem at its lowest points. After the lecture, the members were practicing one of their old choreos that they would be performing at an awards show, only to have Jimin fall multiple times while doing some of the more difficult moves. He was feeling like he wasn’t as good as he used to be, and it had him feeling insecure. Right before you walked into the practice room, him and Hoseok were trying to smooth some kinks out in the routine and he was too frustrated to get them right.

You knew Jimin well, and you knew he was probably feeling terrible about himself, and now probably even worse because of what just happened with you.

“I’m sorry Hobi,” you said, sniffling softly, “I should have listened to you.”

“No, bub,” he says reaching over and grabbing your hands, “you just wanted to make sure he was okay. None of this is your fault, okay?” You nod your head and let Hoseok’s words sooth you. You’ve been best friends since high school, he always knew how to calm you down. “I’ll go make sure Jimin is calm and I’ll have him come in here. You can have some privacy. You’re both pretty sensitive right now.”

You nod again, not trusting yourself to not cry if you spoke. Hoseok takes one last look at you before standing up and going to find Jimin.

You sit on the comfortable leather couch, collecting your thoughts, for what feels like forever, until you hear the code being input on Hoseok’s door. A moment later, you see the soft pink hair of your boyfriend poke around the corner. When he turns to look at you, he’s wearing an almost unreadable expression. You can tell he’s been crying, his eyes are a little red and his cheeks are a bit puffy, but otherwise he looks calm.

“Can I sit with you?” he asks in a small voice.

You nod your head, mirroring his unsure expression. “Of course, Jimin,” you whisper, scooting over slightly to make more room on the couch.

You both sit there staring at the other for a moment, before Jimin speaks, “Can I -”, he starts, before cutting himself off, snapping his lips shut as you raise your eyebrows. He takes a moment to configure his thoughts before he tries again. “I’m sorry, YN,” he mutters, hurt clear in his voice, “can I please touch you?”

Your heart broke at the fact that he felt the need to ask you. His hands were folded politely in his lap, making no effort to reach for you, like you didn’t want him close. Without saying anything, you stand up from your spot on the couch, and plop back down on his lap, shocking him, his hands flying to grasp your waist to steady you. You wrap your arms around his neck in response, placing a soft kiss on his head. He instantly relaxes into you, his hands kneading your sides, head resting on your shoulder as he lets out a deep sigh. You stay like that for a moment until you hear light sniffles and you realize your boyfriend is crying.

Scooting down a bit, you bring your hand around and cup his cheek, “Jimin-ie,” you whisper.

When he looks up at you he looks so defeated and you decide then and there that you hate that look. If it were up to you, he’d never feel this way ever again. “You’re perfect to me, Jimin,” you whisper, making him scoff, trying to turn his head away from you. You don’t let him, though. “I’m serious. You may not think so, but you are so talented, sweet, and funny. You’re the kindest person I’ve ever known and I’m so lucky that you love me.”

He scoffs again, “How can you say that after what I just said to you?”

“Because I love you,” you say simply without hesitation. “I know that you were feeling insecure and anxious. I understand that you need love and acceptance when you feel like that.”

Jimin’s eyes soften at your words, another tear rolling down his cheek. “What did I do to deserve you?”

You chuckle lightly, rubbing your thumb against his cheek, “You were so perfectly you, I couldn’t help but fall in love.”

“I love you, YN,” he sobs into your shoulder, “and I’m so sorry.”

“I know, Jimin-ie,” you stroke his hair, “let’s go home, yeah?” He nods into your shoulder as you place a kiss to his forehead.

Taehyung has posted himself up outside the bathroom door, waiting for you to come out. He wasn’t going to let this fight last. He wasn’t going to let you think he thought you were anything less than perfect. He couldn’t lose you because of his stupid and reckless mouth.

It’s been an hour since you locked yourself in there. He could hear you run yourself a bath, sit in there for a while, and then heard the tub draining. He hoped you’d be coming out soon, so he leaned his back against the door, resigning himself to sitting there all night if he had to.

Another 10 minutes go by before you slowly open the door, making Taehyung fall backwards as he reaches out to right himself. You gasp in shock, not realizing he was right there. When he falls through the doorway, you get down on your knees, towel wrapped tightly around your body as you make sure he’s okay. “Tae! Are you okay?”

Taehyung sighs as he lays flat on his back in the doorway of the bathroom. “Why are you asking me that? I should be the one asking you.”

Your face falls again at the reminder that he thought you were too caring, too happy, too positive. You spent the entirety of your bath talking yourself into not being so upbeat and chipper around him. To not be so caring and to back off him a little bit. That’s what he wanted, right? He could see the gears turning in your head, so he sits up, leaning back on the palms of his hands.

“YN, I love you,” he says softly, making you look at him with furrowed eyebrows.

“I know, Tae,” you say flatly. You didn’t think just because of a silly argument that he didn’t love you. You weren’t that insecure. You just truly didn’t want him to feel suffocated, and obviously that’s how he’s been feeling if he felt the need to blow up like that.

“No, YN. You’re too understanding,” he mentally slaps himself, “no, no. That’s not what I meant. Fuck.”

“I get it Tae, I’m suffocating you. I’m sorry, I will try to back off a little bit. I can do better.” You sit back on the heels of your feet and lean against the door frame, staring into his dark orbs.

“Oh, princess,” he whispers, sitting up straighter and reaching a hand out to rest on your thigh, “no you aren’t suffocating me. Not at all. I’m so sorry that I’ve made you feel that way.” The look on his face is so sullen, so remorseful that you can feel just how sorry he is from looking into his eyes. “You are the sunshine that lights up my day, the only person who really gets me. You are the sweetest, kindest, most caring human being on the face of this planet, and I’ve never met someone as empathetic as you are. You are literally perfect, and I am so fucking sorry,” his voice cracks a bit as a tear rolls down your cheek at his words, “that I made you think you weren’t. I’m the shittiest partner ever for doing so, and I will spend the rest of my life making you feel wanted and as special as you deserve to feel.”

You’re full blown crying now when you lunge yourself at him, locking your arms around his neck. Sobbing into his shoulder, you nod your head against him. “I love you Tae,” you whimper, “it’s just a silly fight, right?”

He chuckles softly, wrapping his arms around you bare back, still slightly sticky from your bath, “No it’s more than that.” He feels you stiffen in his hold, so he starts to soothingly rub his large hand up and down your spine, “This is me realizing how fucking perfect I have it and making sure I never do anything to fuck this up. Never do anything to dim your light, because you are the brightest star in my eyes.”

You pull back to slap a hand lightly against his chest, smiling down at him still sitting on the floor. “Stop being so cheesy,” you mumble. He smiles at you before abruptly standing and picking you up bridal style, making you squeal. “Tae!”

“Mmm,” he moans into your ear as he tosses you on the bed and climbs on top of you, “let me show you what I mean, hmm?”

Jungkook didn’t waste any time running out your apartment door and chasing after you. He had only been gone for a minute or two, there’s no way you could have gotten far. As he walks down the street near your apartment, he calls your phone at least a dozen times, all of them going straight to voicemail. Your phone must be dead.

“Fuck,” shoving his phone back in his pocket. When he looks back up at the sidewalk ahead of him, he realizes he’s near your favorite cafe, the one with the cute Japanese trinkets for decor. Deciding to check to see if you’re there, he makes his way down the street. When he arrives at the cafe, he looks in the large glass window at the customers sitting around the restaurant, but doesn’t see you anywhere. Heaving a sigh, he turns around trying to rack his brain for other places you might’ve gone, when he sees a familiar figure sitting across the street at a bus stop. Squinting his eyes, he sees your sulking form, curled in on yourself.

Without thinking, he rushes to cross the street, only remembering at the last second to look both ways and halting his movements when he hears a car horn honking at him. Clutching at his chest, he backs up and allows the cars to pass before he’s running across the street towards you.

When he looks back to you, you’re already standing, a bewildered look on your face.

“Jungkook, are you crazy!?” you yell as he steps up on the curb in front of you.

“YN-” he pants, trying to catch his breath. His adrenaline was pumping now, but he was also relieved to find you okay. “YN, I -”

“Jungkook!” you cut him off, “You could’ve gotten yourself killed!”

It takes him a moment to realize what you’re talking about, but once he catches on a blush overtakes his face and he has the decency to look sheepish. You were actually a little angry at him for being so careless, but then you think back to the argument the two of you just had, and your anger dissipates into sadness again. Jungkook sees the moment your face falls and reaches out to take your hand in his. When you wince and jerk your hand back, he feels another pang of regret in his chest, realizing you actually were hurt and he let you run out of the apartment without helping you at all. He was such a shit boyfriend.

Jungkook huffs a breath through his nose as he reaches out carefully, palm up, silently asking for your hand. You oblige reluctantly, knowing he’s trying to help, and place your hand, palm up in his hand.

“YN, I am so sorry,” he starts, moving closer to you to get a better look at your still bleeding finger,”I’m mad at something Namjoon-hyung and I fought about earlier, and my dumbass took it all out on you. I’m a fucking asshole.” He pulls your hand closer to his face as he talks, inspecting the cut. He saw it earlier, but it only looked like a papercut then. Now that it had bled a little more, he could see it was fairly deep, maybe even deep enough to need a stitch or two. Sighing, he closes his eyes to collect himself before he speaks his next words. “Why are you at the bus stop?” He knows the answer, and braces himself for the impact.

“I- I figured I should probably go to the hospital,” you nibble on your bottom lip, unsure why you felt bad for saying what you had to say, “I didn’t think you’d want to drive me.”

His heart breaks. He moves closer to you, pulling you into his arms and resting his chin on top of your head. “Oh, YN,” he whispers, remorse dripping in his tone, “I can’t believe I did that. I will always, always be here to help you. I don’t want you to ever feel like I wouldn’t.” He can feel tears stinging the backs of his eyes as he runs a soothing hand up and down your back.

“I just thought since, you know…” you trail off, letting more tears fall down your face.

“I know, I was an asshole,” he starts, pulling away to look down at you, “let me take you to get that looked at, and we can talk about it on the way, okay? I’m so sorry, YN. I don’t want you to forgive me yet, I don’t deserve it. Just let me make sure you’re okay, first.”

You look up at him, unshed tears welling in his eyes when you nod your head. “Okay,” you whisper, letting him take your uninjured hand in his and walk the couple blocks back towards your apartment. You knew what he did was wrong, but you also knew that he loved you. You loved him, too. Regardless of the fights you may have, and the tough times you experience, you know you will always fight for one another. You look up at him through misty eyes while you walk, he looks back at you, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. A silent exchange letting each other know it would be okay.

#bts angst #jungkook x reader #jimin x reader #jungkook angst #taehyung smut #yoongi x reader #cypherwritersnet

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toastedkiwi · 4 years

Text

Wrong Cards

Summary: on a fateful day, Chris meets you.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Teen!Reader

Warning: angsty, death, gun violence, blood, shitty childhood.

You haven’t had the easiest life. In all your 14 years on this earth, it’s been hell. You’ve been on the streets. You’ve been moved around all over the country and put into homes only to be shooed away. It became very apparent that nobody wanted you or cared. Not even teachers. You’ve dealt with abuse, bullying, pretty much any nasty thing that a kid shouldn’t have to deal with. A kid should be loved and wanted and taken care of but it seemed like you ended up with the short straw way too many times. Until you met Chris.

It was dark all around except for the parking lot light. You and Issac had gotten into a scuffle by these gangsters— wannabe gangsters. Punches were thrown along with threats. Then a gun went off. He was this 12 year old you met— he lost his home and his abusive parents. You were looking out for him. You had gotten in front of him and took the hits and beatings. But Issac took the bullet.

Chris heard your crying and calling out for help. He ran. He pulled out his phone and came around a truck to see the scene. Your hands are covered in blood as you’re doing chest compressions on your dying friend. He can tell that you’re way too young and Issac is way too young to be shot. You’re just kids.

“Help! Please!” You begged.

Chris dials 9-1-1 and presses call. He pulls off his scarf and gets on his knees. He puts his scarf over the wound that oozes blood. He holds it down with one hand while the other holds his phone and he already feels the warm blood soak through the fabric.

“911, what’s your emergency?” The operator asked.

“A- A kid’s been shot,” Chris said as calmly as he could for you. “He’s losing a lot of blood. You gotta hurry.”

“Where are you, sir? And is the shooter still around?”

Chris gives the street and said, “I don’t know. Probably.”

He’s told to stay on the line so he puts the phone on speaker and puts it on the ground. Chris can see that you’re struggling.

“Switch with me, kid,” Chris said.

You looked up at him with a quiver of the lip. You nod and it’s a quick switch. He’s doing chest compressions and you’re applying pressure to the wound.

“What happened?” Chris asked.

“I- I can’t tell y-you,” you said.

You both hear the sirens of the cop cars and the ambulance. He looks at you to see your own face has been beaten. Your bottom lip is slit and bleeding. You have a cut over your right eye brow and it’s also bleeding. Your cheek is starting to bruise already.

“What happened?” Chris asked.

You kept your mouth shut. The ambulance rolls into the parking lot following a cop car. The paramedics rushed over. The cops immediately asked where the shooter is and you pointed the way to them. They head off and the paramedics take over. Chris has to pull you away from Issac. More cops show up.

“No pulse,” one of the paramedics said. “Shocking to 200. —Clear.”

You clenched your jaw tightly as you watched them try to bring your friend back alive. A cop is trying to talk to you. You haven’t slept in days. You haven’t had a proper meal in months. You don’t even know what day it is. And you’re numb.

“He’s gone,” are the words that you hear.

You screamed and cried. Chris stops you. He can’t believe the situation he’s in at the moment. He doesn’t know you at all. He doesn’t know the kid that’s dead on the wet asphalt of the parking lot. He just wraps his arms around you. You fight against him but you’re weak. You’re not that strong and Chris is an adult who religiously works out.

“Stop, stop,” Chris said. “He’s gone.”

You cried harder and managed to put all your strength into clutching onto Chris. He’s keeping you on your feet. If he wasn’t holding you, you’d be running till you have to stop and then you might be dead somewhere else.

~~~~~next day

“Y/n, you’ve got a visitor,” Andrew, a nurse, said coming into the room.

Chris Evans followed behind with a giant gift bag. You recognize him from last night. The one person who came when you called for help.

“Hey,” Chris said coming into the room. “I got you something.”

You’re left alone with the actor. He places the bag in your lap. You’re very confused. You’ve never have been given anything in these 14 plus years on this earth. It’s a first.

“Why?” You asked.

He sits down on the edge of the bed and faces you.

“Just open it,” he said.

You squinted at him. He grabs the pink tissue paper and tosses it behind himself.

“There,” Chris said. “Now, you pull out what I got for you.”

You pull out this LEGO set and Chris pulls away the now empty bag. You look at the front. It’s the Super Hero Airport Battle with Captain America, the Winter Soldier, Scarlet Witch, Iron Man, War Machine, and Antman.

“Why are they fighting?” You asked. “Superheroes don’t fight each other.”

“You haven’t seen the movie?” He asked.

You shook your head no and said, “I’ve only seen Iron Man 3.”

“Really?” He asked surprised. “Just Iron Man 3?”

“Yeah. That was when I had parents that wanted me,” you said and you looked back at the box of legos.

“What happened?” Chris asked. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“They’re dead like Issac,” you said. “They died in a fire. The house burnt down.”

“That sucks,” Chris said looking at you.

“I know,” you said. “Now, you didn’t answer my question. Why are they fighting?”

“There’s this document called the Sokovia Accords. All these countries wanted all the superheroes to sign them,” Chris started telling you. “And make the superheroes liable for their mistakes. The governments of the countries wanted to tell the heroes where they can go help and where they can’t even if people need help.”

“That’s stupid,” you said.

“Right. It’s pretty stupid. So, Iron Man, War Machine, and a few other Avengers signed the accords but Captain America was like, ‘fuck that.’ And so the Avengers were split,” Chris said. “They had one team— Team Cap, obviously the best team and they had another one- Team Iron Man.”

“Who wins?” You asked.

“Nobody. They’re divided,” he said simply.

“All because of the government?” You asked.

“Pretty much,” Chris said.

“Thats fucked up,” you said.

“Language,” he said.

“That’s messed up!” You corrected sarcastically.

“Much better,” Chris said with a shit eating grin on his face. “Why don’t we get started on building the set?”

He pulls over the table. You sit yourself up crisscross even though there’s pain in your ribs and abdomen but you haven’t asked for any painkillers. Chris gets onto the bed more invading your space.

“Take off your shoes, you wild animal. Haven’t you learned anything?” You sassed.

He immediately takes off his shoes giving you this exaggerated annoyed look. He gets onto the bed and sits across from you crisscross. You try to pick off the tape. He lets you struggle trying to get open the box.

“What’s your favorite superhero?” Chris asked but he has a feeling that it’s Iron Man.

“Whoever can get the stupid ass box open,” you said putting the box on the table in between the two of you.

Chris chuckles and takes the box. He rips it open and tears the back wide open.

“There we go,” he said putting it on the table.

“That was obnoxious,” you said looking at him.

He just smiled cheekily. You just shook your head.

“Alright, lets get building,” Chris said rubbing his hands together.

“You sure you didn’t bring this so you could build it yourself?” You asked.

“Excuse me?! I’m helping you build it,” he said and mocked offense.

“Sure,” you said sarcastically and taking out the instruction book.

Chris rolled his eyes. He knows for a fact that he’ll come back tomorrow to visit you.

“What’s your favorite movie?” Chris asked.

“Iron Man 3,” you said opening bag one on the table.

“I know Iron Man,” he announced.

“Are you trying to impress me? Like I don’t get it. I don’t even understand why you’re here and why you’re in the bed across from me or why you’re trying to get to know me by asking questions,” you said. “Don’t you have something better to do instead of spending time with a stupid ass foster kid that nobody wants?”

“First of all, you aren’t stupid. You’re smarter than you think you are. Secondly, I want to spend time with you. I want to get to know you,” Chris said.

“No, you don’t. You just feel bad for me,” you said.

“Honestly, yeah, I do feel bad—,” he said.

“Get out,” you said without hesitation.

“Let me finish,” Chris said.

“No! Get out!” You yelled pushing the legos off the table. “I don’t need you! I don’t need your fucking pity!”

“Y/n,” Chris said.

“GET OUT!” You screamed.

He sighs and slides off the bed. He grabs his shoes and quickly puts them on.

“GET OUT!” You yelled.

Chris finally leaves. Your jaw clenched tightly and tears streamed down your cheeks.

“Dude, you literally kicked out Captain America,” Andrew said shaking his head.

“Leave me alone!” You yelled.

~~~~~next day

Chris walks into the room with a fuzzy blanket, his iPad Pro, and a bag of snacks. The LEGO set is built and off to the side on the table. You’re so far in the bed on the edge that you might fall off. You’ve also been crying. Chris puts the things he brought on a chair except the giant fuzzy blanket. He covers you with the blanket. You looked at him with your eyes red and puffy.

“I told you to get out,” you said.

“That was yesterday,” Chris said grabbing the snacks and his iPad. “Today is a new day.”

He kicks off his shoes and puts the snacks in your lap. He gets into the bed. You try pushing him off. But he’s a 38 year old man. He plants himself right next to you laying on top of the blankets.

“I do feel bad. No kid should’ve seen another kid die or be shot, Y/n,” Chris said opening up his iPad. “I don’t know what else you’ve gone through but I know that it sucked for you and it’s unfair. You should be dealing with high school drama instead but you got dealt the wrong cards, kid. It’s not fair at all.”

He looks at you to find that you have this frustrated look on your face as tears streamed down your cheeks. He puts his arm around you and pulls you into his side. You bury your face into his side and shut your eyes closed tightly. You choked out a sob. His other arm wraps around you and he holds you tightly as you cry.

“You’re gonna be alright,” he said softly. “You’ll make it through all of this.”

You continued to cry and Chris did his best to soothe and console you. He honestly doesn’t know what he’s doing. He just knows he’s gotta protect you.

“Let’s watch a movie,” Chris said as you calmed down a bit.

“W-What movie?” You asked quietly.

“I was thinking Iron Man 1,” Chris said opening his iPad back up.

“You- you have it?” You asked with your eyes lighting up.

“Yup,” he said nodding.

He opened up the collection of movies he houses on the iPad. He scrolls through until he finds it. He taps on it and plays the movie. He looks to see that you’re already entranced. It brings a smile to his face and he turns his focus back on the screen.

The two of you crashed as the credits of Iron Man 2 rolled on the screen.

“Would it be alright if I adopted you?” Chris asked when you two woke up from your impromptu nap.

“Don’t be saying shit like that if you don’t mean it,” you said immediately sitting up and looking at the actor.

“I mean it, Y/n. You don’t have to be dealing with terrible foster parents or being homeless cause it’s better than the other places you’ve been. I got room in my house,” Chris said sitting up. “I got air conditioning.”

“You’re- you’re lying. You don’t want me,” you cried.

He wrapped his arms around you and held you close. You tried your hardest to fight against his hold but he doesn’t budge.

“When have I lied to you?” Chris asked as you cried into his shoulder. “Have I lied to you since we met?”

You shook your head no and he rubbed your back.

“Then I’m not lying now. I’d like to adopt you if you let me,” Chris said.

“O-Okay,” you sniffled.

Chris smiled and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

~~~~few weeks later

You were first greeted by a very happy Dodger. He jumped on you which freaked you out and you tensed up looking at the dog warily.

“Dodger,” Chris said grabbing Dodger by his collar.

He gently pulls Dodger away and you went back outside. He looks over his shoulder to see you descend down the porch steps. He puts down your backpack that has all you have in it and he takes Dodger outside with him.

“Dodger is very excitable. He loves people,” Chris said sitting down beside you but giving enough space in between. “Sit, Dodger.”

Dodger sits down planting his ass on Chris’ foot. Chris chuckles and pets his furry friend. He makes sure that Dodger doesn’t do anything to you.

“You okay?” Chris asked looking at you.

You shrugged your shoulders and looked away. You sniffled and tried your hardest not to cry. Chris watches as you hold yourself with your arms wrapped around yourself.

“I- I don’t w-want to get attached to him or- or you,” you whimpered with your voice trembling.

Chris slides closer and wrapped his arms around you.

“It’s okay to get attached, Y/n,” Chris said.

“B-But everyone dies!” You exclaimed looking at him with tears streaming down your cheeks. “My parents died. My sister died. My adoptive parents died. Issac is dead! He died right in front of me. Everyone I get attached to dies, Chris. You’re just gonna be one of them.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m not immortal and neither is Dodger and neither are you. Death is inevitable and you’ve dealt with it a lot. The world hasn’t been kind to you,” he said running his fingers through your hair. “You’ve lost so many people and I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”

“Y-you don’t know that,” you said.

“You’re right. I don’t but it would be a dick move on the world’s part,” Chris said.

You let out a small laugh as he pulled you into his side more. Your arms wrapped around his torso.

“C’mon, let’s go inside,” he said.

You nodded but you don’t move. He chuckles. He stays put for a little longer and holds you.

#chris evans x female reader #chris evans fluff #chris evans x y/n #chris evans oneshot #chris evans angst #chris evans x teen!reader #angst #ironman #iron man #marvel #chris evans fanfic #dad!chris evans x reader

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