#this was supposed to start on monday but my notebook was acting up

[therealvikingstrash]

Women of Vikings Week, Day 1: Aud the Deep Minded

#vikings #aud #aud the deep minded #vtrash gifs #my sweet aud #woman of vikings week #why? you might ask #just because I can #woman of the vikings show #there are more to come #this was supposed to start on monday but my notebook was acting up #anyway a week is a week

[theblue6ook]

Shit Interview PT 5

Summary: The day Bruce Wayne is finally supposed to work in office... and he's late. [B (23) & Y/N (21)] [Eventual slow burn with Bruce]

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x fem!reader

a/n: I know I said this would be out early 3/6, but I lied… If you liked this story, it’s a part of my “Out of My League” series :)

Y/N had woken up at 5 am on Monday morning. She did her hair and her makeup. She dressed a little nicer than she would any other day, with a new top and new shoes that she purchased with her new paycheck. John opened Dorthie’s Flowers early for her so she could stop in and get flowers for the office, just because. Of course, John knew what was going on. He gossiped with Alfred on their usual off day. She even had time to go to Batbuck’s and get a black coffee and a breakfast sandwich with bacon. Yes, she knew her employer's order. And after two weeks of agony, today was the day. The day Bruce Wayne was coming to the office.

Did she think he’d honestly care about any of her efforts? No. No, not even a little bit, but it made her feel better. Knowing she was putting in effort even if her boss wasn’t. So, she sat in the office doing her usually scheduled work, watching the clock tick by. Check-in with the social team. They’ve been begging to have Bruce Wayne in a promotional video: at 8 am. Work on approving Wayne Charitable Foundation fundraisers: 9:30 am. Look through suggested events: 11 a.m. It was 12:33 pm. Their first meeting started at 12:30 pm. Bruce Wayne was supposed to be here at 12 pm. Where the fuck is he? Who knows, but he’s not where he’s supposed to be. Y/N contemplated driving down to that manor, grabbing him by the legs, and throwing him in the back of her van. She thinks she could do it. She thinks she’s angry enough to do it. 

Just like in every other meeting, she was acting as a notetaker, and as she looked down at her notebook… she thought she might throw up. Mr.Collins may have been… especially an asshole last week, and she may have told him she knew for a fact Bruce Wayne would be here today. After two weeks of dealing with his comments and cruelty, she just can’t take the heat. So she sits in her corner, with her notebook on her knees hoping, praying he’ll forget all about it… He doesn’t.

“Miss.Y/L/N,” he sang at her, a shit-eating grin on his face, “I thought we were expecting Mr.Wayne today.”

He held his arms out as if to say, where is he? She tried to ignore him, leaning over toward her back and grabbing a pen out. Stepping in front of her, he used his foot to scoot the bag away from her. “I asked you a question, Miss. Y/L/N.”

“Personally, I thought it was more a statement,” Mr.Foxx tried to take some of the attention away from her. She looked over at him and smiled. She wanted to thank him, but unfortunately, she knew it wouldn’t deter Mr.Collins. He was determined to make her look stupid.

“The question was implied,” Mr.Collins spoke. 

“He’s just late,” she replied, bored, looking down at her notebook and trying to appear unfazed. “I spoke with him on Saturday, and he said he’d be coming around twelve.” He tried taking the notebook off her lap, but she held onto it, leaving them at a standstill. 

“You may look at me while I talk to you,” he spat at her. Y/N, don’t say a goddamn thing, she thought, nothing that comes out of your mouth will be helpful. The executives had all paused near their seats, watching the scene, waiting to intervene, but then the attention shifted.

“Please stop harassing my assistant, Nigel,” a voice had spoken smugly. The notebook slipped out of her hand, and a breath she didn’t know she was holding released. There, leaning cooly against the doorway, was Bruce Fucking Wayne in a suit that probably cost more than her life. Nigel backed off and looked absolutely aghast.

He took a minute to process the man standing in the doorway, straightened up and spoke, “Mr.Wayne, what a… surprise.”

“Well, you know Gotham traffic, it’s a nightmare.” The other executives chuckled, still standing. Y/N could tell no one was really sure what to do with themselves. Bruce looked at her confused, “Miss.Y/L/N, what are you doing in the corner?”

Grabbing her notebook on the way over, he slipped behind her cornered chair and wheeled it to the table with her in it. He sat between her and Mr.Foxx, and slowly, everyone relaxed and sat down, chattering quietly. She looked at him out of the corner of her eye and whispered, “Why do I feel like you were late on purpose?”

He just grinned.

Bruce actually had every intention of being here on time, but the case had a breakthrough, and the case always comes first. Even despite Alfred's insistent honking in the driveway. After weeks, he had found where Bane had been putting his chemicals. He'd been stocking them in different warehouses around the city, spreading them out. So, it might be time to spend the week in the penthouse conveniently enough.

Speaking confidently and intelligently, Bruce Wayne started the meeting. To everyone’s surprise, including her own, he had actually done his homework on the energy program they were discussing. He spoke expertly on the topic as if he worked in the program. His being here would have even been enough, she thought. Y/N took notes on whether they were to keep the program or get rid of it, and Mr.Wayne even had her repeat the notes at the end. This might have been the smoothest meeting she had ever attended. 

As it came to an end, they decided to schedule another for tomorrow at 1 pm. Mr.Collins claimed it gave everyone time before making a final decision. As the executives were filtering out of the room, each one would shake Bruce Wayne’s hand. I hope to see you again, Bruce, such a pleasure. I’ll be looking for you in the office, Wayne. Glad to have you back. You look so much like your father. She took the opportunity to squeeze by them, leaving the room. Bruce noticed and excused himself to follow her out.

He caught up to her easily, “What’s our next order of business?”

“Well, this would typically be my lunch, so I’m going to heat up some soup and send out some emails,” she stepped onto the elevator, and he followed her. “Then, I need to type up the meeting notes and send them out, but I do have some files you need to look over, and then you’re on your way.”

“That’s it,” he said, eyebrow raised. “You told me I was a valuable part of the company. I have so much to do-”

“First of all,” she interrupted, pressing the top floor before the penthouse, “I never said you were valuable. I said this was a favor. Second of all, you insinuated you wanted an easy schedule, so that’s what you get.”

“Now, who’s interrupting,” he smirked, leaning against the elevator wall.

“You’re insufferable.”

“You could have left me at home.”

“Not a chance,” she smirked at him, leaning against the opposite wall. “The files should take you until three. There’s a coffee and a sandwich on your desk.” 

“It’s probably cold by now.”

“Well, I suspect you know how a microwave works.”

Thinking for a moment, he said, “What’s happening to the rest of the work I supposedly had?”

“I’m assisting you with it,” she smiled. “So far on my list of Bruce Wayne things today, I’ve met with the social team; they want to do a video with you, by the way. I’ve worked on some WCF fundraisers and events, which you should attend at least a few of-”

“You know there are teams for all of this stuff?”

“Did you not hear the parts that included you?” The elevator dinged, and she stepped out, exasperated. “Again, you are the face of your company. Your teams want your opinion. They want to include you.”

He was one step behind her once again, following her easily toward his office. “I’ve owned this company for a while and haven’t involved myself this much.”

She slowed to turn and look at him, annoyed, but he bumped into the back of her. Dipping his hands into her waist, he steadied her. She paused and then pulled back, defensive, “You wouldn’t even be here right now if I didn’t bust into your house.”

Turning around abruptly and heading into his office, she hoped he hadn't noticed her blushing. He did and he followed after her with a grin.

@pank0w @moejoeflow @padsfirewhisky

#batfam #bruce wayne x reader #batman #batmom #bruce wayne #batboys x reader #slow burn

[pugsandbaby]

i can’t sleep so i guess i’ll vent about the meeting,

it started with my admin saying how messy my room is. well for one, it’s kindergarten and i have 28 students, two: we had done three crafts that day and then three: i have no help getting someone to clean. plus my room was a fucking disaster one week before school started and i had just been cleared for work so i had two days to clean it up. i took zero time off after simon was born that wasn’t from summer break

then my assistant said i’m rude to her because i don’t make small talk with her. whatever, i don’t care. in the morning i have a thousand things to do sorry i don’t chat with you while i complete 1000 different tasks

next they basically acted like i don’t have routines in place and that’s why she doesn’t know what to do. WE DO THE SAME FUCKING THING EVERY DAY. my students know what we are doing every day. they will say, “are we doing our letter of the day then going outside?” or after writing time is it lunch time?” they know what we do

then i tried to make reasonable complaints about how she hadn’t passed out anything all day and they threw it back on me that i needed to ask her to do everything all day everyday. they were like if there is a math worksheet how is she supposed to know what to do?? i was like well i always say after our video we are going to do our math worksheet and then there is the cart with all the papers and she could look at the one labeled math and then get it. then they just changed the conversation because they know i made it simple for her.

i tried to say how she can’t check the students work quickly enough. we will write a sentence in their notebooks and i come around with a highlighter and give them a little check to see if they did it. every time i check 24 and she will check 4. then they tried to act like i didn’t need to do that. well it helps me plan lessons. like on monday, i saw that several of them were writing too big so i made a lesson on how to stay in between the lines. but they made the suggestion that i could have the students place their notebooks on her table and then have her check them. so something that takes 2 minutes for me can take take 30 minutes for someone else. great idea.

she said i don’t say please and thank you and it’s like for what??? doing your job??

then they said i could have a schedule for her and i flat out said no. i do everything in there and i’m not making her a daily schedule plus WE DO THE SAME THING EVERY FUCKING DAY

i’m not changing the way i run my classroom, we finally have team planning and i’m not going back to making individual lesson plans. it’s just not going to happen.

we went to the pumpkin patch on monday and she couldn’t even walk on the pumpkin patch. thankfully i had a lot of parents come and they were helpful but damn. she can’t even walk on the playground to help me monitor recess. she has fallen on two students already.

i tried to talk about how she doesn’t clean up from math centers and they were like you shouldn’t be cleaning up the kids can do it. right, 5 year olds are great at cleaning up every time.

i figured it out and i can take a sick day every 7 days of work and i’m going to do it. they can’t fire me for taking my sick days. plus i didn’t take time off when simon was born so this can make up for it. plus my mom can come in on fridays. the other two kindergarten teachers said they will send their aides to me during the roughest parts of my day to help. they said i can send them by bad kids anytime as well.

i have contacted my union rep to file a grievance so maybe that can help as well

[kokoch4n3l]

DEAD GIRL’S BEACH ࿐ྂ KUROKAWA IZANA x f!oc x SANO MANJIRO

THREE — iv bags and daffodils

"he looks at me like I'm below him. he doesn't say it nor does he act that way but his eyes say it all. patient likes loves power. he craves it" — MAYA'S ROUGH NOTES ON K.I

chapter summary: Maya faces a moral dilemma, trying to pick between her livelihood and ethics all while under the watchful eye of the hospital director and her patient, Kurokawa Izana.

chapter warnings: inaccurate depictions of psychiatric hospitals, mentions of alcohol, mentions of depression, drug use, allusions to sex, abuse of authority, power imbalance, unethical use of drugs, mentions of alcohol, mentions of rape, mentions of murder

word count: 4213

moodboard | masterlist | previous | chapter 4

Pretty is what Kurokawa Izana would use to describe Kaneko Maya. She was so pretty. Kaneko Maya was cute, funny, pretty and just Manjiro's type. Had his younger brother not been a depressed little shit right now, Izana would have gotten Ran to gift her to Manjiro. Even if he did now, Izana doubts Manjiro would even do anything. He heard that depression affects the libido. Even before he was admitted into this shitty psychiatric hospital, no matter how many hostess bars he took Manjiro to, how many hookers he called over, how many strip clubs— Manjiro was just bored. For a while, he thought the guy was probably a nervous virgin who only knew how to fight but after a drunken conversation with Sanzu Haruchiyo, Manjiro's childhood friend, he finds out that was in fact not the case. Manjiro was pretty popular with the girls when they were in middle school(due to his shoulder-length blonde hair and girls having a huge thing for pretty boys with the deep voices). Manjiro was 100%, not a virgin and just depressed as hell. "Kakucho" Izana says holding the flip phone against his ear "How's everything going?"

Friday came by pretty quickly as usual. "It's fine as usual. You'll be out on Monday. Are you excited?" Kakucho, his childhood and right-hand man asks

Izana leans back in his shitty bed and stares out the window. It's about 10:30 am, the sun is still rising. "Yeah, about time. If it wasn't for the cute little doctor that gives me company during her night shift, would've gone fuckin' crazy for real"

"That sounds unprofessional" Kakucho mutters in disappointment

Izana laughs. "It's actually not like that. Cute kid, fresh outta uni"

Kakucho laughs. It's rare to hear Kakucho laugh. "I don't believe that one-bit Izana"

"Well, you better. Kaneko Maya, real eye candy" Izana hums and stares up at the white ceiling and starts to ramble about her "talks a lot and y’know I usually hate girls that yap but she's a real cutie. Thinkin' she can fix me and shit. It’s so fuckin’ cute. She's got this little notebook she takes notes on when she talks to me. Nosey as fuck but real cute. Got these blowjob eyes—"

"She's a psychiatrist, she's supposed to be nosey," Kakucho cuts him off before he can get vulgar, simultaneously ignoring the number of times Izana used the word cute to describe his psychiatrist "What did you say her name was again?"

Izana scoffs. "You gonna do a background check on my little doctor Kakucho? This late in too? 'M leavin' Monday"

"It's my job"

Of course, it was. Kakucho was protective. Overprotective at times. It was one of the reasons Izana kept him around. To feel wanted(and because he cared about him but Izana won't say that out loud). "Kaneko Maya. How 'bout ya’ tell me what cha' find when you're done"

"Of course"

And they end the phone call not long after. Izana sits in silence for a while and sighs tiredly. He stares down his left arm with the iv in it. Apparently whatever medication was being given to him was essential to his recovery but he really fuckin' hated it. He felt like actual shit. Tired all the time, sleepy as shit. He hated it. Oh well, he was getting out this Monday anyway. He had been here for 2 months and Maya had only been working here for a month. Perhaps had she been here the whole time the first month would have been more bearable as well. He was leaving Monday anyway. Maybe if Maya was that kind of girl she'd take up the offer of coming to his beach house and maybe she'd even put Manjiro in a good mood with those cute puppy eyes she has. After all, Manjiro has always had a fixation on cute and pretty things and Izana knew him long enough to know that. Izana hears his door click and inwardly sighs in annoyance at whoever was going to enter his room. He glares at the door but his harsh gaze immediately turns into one of surprise when seeing his night shift doctor. "what are you doing here?" He asks, narrowing his eyes at Maya

Maya is wearing her blue scrubs, her white doctor's coat sleeves folded to her elbows. She's got the pager clipped to her belt, the key bracelet thing around her wrist and her ID card securely clipped to the breast pocket on her coat. "wow no hi or good morning or how are you?" Maya asks sarcastically, the door shutting with a click behind her

Her eyes are slightly red and she looks exhausted. Her hair is tied back in a bun with a few curly strands framing her face. "Hi, good morning, how are you?" Izana says sarcastically then changes immediately to a more serious and authoritative tone "You ended your shift 6 hours ago. Go home"

Maya's shift starts from 9 pm to 4 am, she brings the patients dinner because the nurses pushed the job onto her, brings the trays back and down to the kitchen, then comes back up and sticks around as there wasn't much to do unless one of the patients/criminals, needed something which wasn't often. "Yeah... But I fell asleep in the breakroom after my shift and the old man in charge of the morning told me to take his shift and went home before I could say anything" she complained and plopped down on the chair and bolted down on the floor by his bed "I complained to the director but he told me that since I was here anyway I should just take the shift and he'd paid me extra"

Izana can't help but roll his eyes. She really wanted to pay off those loans huh? "I think that's called exploitation" He says

Which is huge coming from Izana considering what he does for a living. "Yeah but... Money" she shrugs "I get to leave at lunchtime though and don't have to come back for the night shift"

"Oh gee! How great!" Izana says sarcastically once again

Izana feels a bit odd being annoyed about the fact that his doctor is being taken advantage of. He's known her for a month and he knows she's kind and these other shitty old people employed here liked to take advantage of her kindness. To make it worse she rarely complained about it. Oh well, at least he gets to see her longer and talk to her for longer. "Haven't seen those before" Izana says looking at the two necklaces she was wearing

One was a gold oval pendant with a delicate border and the outline of a flower in the center of it. The second necklace, also gold, was a small butterfly pendant. Cute. "What's the thing in the center of the coin?" He asks "A rose?"

Maya looks down at her necklace and realizes they are untucked. It was a huge safety hazard considering she could be choked. But Sunshine Grove was a shitty psychiatric hospital and none of the employees really took safety seriously(Maya neither) so they rarely removed jewelry and just kept things like necklaces tucked under their clothes. "Ah~ it's a daffodil," Maya tells him, touching the pendant "my birth flower. My birthday's in March"

Izana chuckles. How cute. "Your birth flower, hm..."

One thing Izana liked about Maya was that she tended to ramble about random things that interested her. "Oh oh have you heard that greek myth story about daffodils?" She asks

Izana would usually be annoyed at this kind of rambling but perhaps Maya had the privilege to just talk. Pretty privilege is what Ran calls it. Izana forgot what he meant since he usually tunes whatever Ran says, out but he figures maybe this is what it is. "So basically there was this guy Narcissus. He was supposedly really good-looking. But he never found anyone that could attract him. He left a long trail of distressed and broken-hearted maidens, and one or two young men fell as well" she giggles a bit then continues the story "Then, one day, he happened to see his own reflection in a pool of water and, thus, discovered the ultimate in unrequited love and fell in love with himself. Obviously, this one-way relationship went nowhere, and Narcissus, unable to draw himself away from the pool, pined away in despair until he finally died of thirst and starvation"

Izana raises a brow. "What?"

"Yeah, and he turned into a daffodil. So another name for daffodils is Narcissus" 

Izana can't help but laugh. What a stupid story. "I'm guessing this shitty story has a moral like all Greek myths"

Maya nods. "I think it was a warning not a moral. Something like ‘love and obsession lie closer together than we think’ or something" 

Oh. Time passes by when Maya rambles. She was honestly the highlight of his day or well, night. But right now it was the day so she was the highlight of his day. He figures that since she's here right now she won't be here tonight and since it was Friday he won't see her till Monday. He’ll stay a while before he leaves on Monday to say goodbye. Time passes by fast and soon comes lunch. "You know doctor, if there's one thing I'll miss about this shitty place it'll be you talking my ear off" Izana says playfully

Maya laughs. "really well—" she pauses taking in his word "what do you mean? I'm still gonna be working here y'know"

"I'm leaving Monday. Getting discharged and will be back to my normal life" He tells her with a grin "what are you gonna miss me?"

He's being playful but the expression on Maya's face makes him confused. Why is she looking at him like that. He watches her pull out the little notebook of her's and flip through the pages. Izana watches as she mutters something to herself and all he hears are little curse. "Hey, doctor... What's wrong?" He asks in confusion

Why was this her reaction? Maya gets up and walks over to where his IV bag was hung up. She looks long and hard at the bag then turns to him. She's standing right next to him. She rarely gets this close. "You're leaving on Monday?" she repeats with a frown “like discharged and going home?”

Izana is starting to get worried and a bit aggravated, not understanding why she's looking at him like that. As far as he knew she knew nothing about him or what he did. So why was she giving him that look? "Doctor. I'd like to know why you're looking at me like that" Izana says slowly

He isn't nervous. Not at all. A man like him isn't nervous. He's concerned. There's a huge difference between the two emotions. He watches Maya take a breath. "Um... Mr. Kurokawa..." She pauses and looks at him nervously "What... What are you here for? What are you admitted here for?"

That question confuses him. Why was she asking him that? Shouldn't she know? "You should know what I'm here for" He tells her lowly, narrowing her eyes at him "You're my—"

"Mr. Kurokawa" Maya says, her voice a bit breathy 

She looks scared almost and it's starting to annoy the hell out of Izana. "Cocaine addiction. Now tell me why you're making that face"

Maya looks nervous, scared and confused. So many different emotions swirl around in her eyes. "So... You're not a convicted criminal?"

He was 100% a criminal but not a convicted one. No one has caught him yet but Maya didn't need to know that. "No and why does that relate to this?"

Maya looks like she might throw up. "You're here for addiction but you're on the fourth floor and not second" She says

"Why should I be on the second floor?" He asks, his voice demanding and angry

Maya sucks in a breath. "second floor is where patients admitted for addiction stay... You're on the fourth floor where the convicted criminals who got off by claiming insanity"

Oh. Oh… Maya chews nervously at her bottom lip. She looks like she might throw up and Izana is pissed. He's fucking pissed. He watches Maya pat her pockets and she pulls out a piece of gauze and then takes his hand. He's about to ask what she's doing but then she puts the gauze pad over the insertion site as gently as she can. She starts to pull it out, increasing pressure as she smoothly withdraws the catheter. Izana stays silent and watches her stick a bandaid to the area. "keep pressure on it for a few minutes" she mumbles and grabs the IV bag

Izana puts his thumb over his wrist where the IV was inserted and watches her. She looked like she was going to be sick and it was pissing him off. What the hell? Maya is about to leave but he stops her. "Doctor... If this is what I think it is..." Izana says slowly

Maya just shakes her head and leaves his room. Izana narrows his eyes, staring at the door. He looks down at his wrist where the IV was just taken out of and was now replaced with a bandage. He stares for a moment longer then pulls out the flip-phone again and calls Kisaki. 

"What's this?" Maya threw the half-empty IV bag onto the hospital director's desk

The hospital director, Doctor Nakamura, narrows his eyes at her. "I don't appreciate you coming in without knocking Doctor Kaneko" He says lowly

Maya wasn't going to back down today. She needed answers. She may be new, she may have just graduated a few months ago but what was wrong was wrong. "Why is Mr Kurokawa on the fourth floor and not the second? He's here for cocaine addiction not for a court order" Maya was going to get her answers today "Why is he being given a sedative and that too, that high of a dose?"

She didn't care about superiority or anything. It didn't matter. Not now when a patient was clearly not being treated for what he came for. This was against the ethics of a doctor. "Doctor Kaneko..." Doctor Nakamura says, grabbing the half-empty IV bag with a dark almost crazed look in his eyes "That man... That man is evil incarnate—"

Maya rubs her temples. "Cocaine addiction does not make a man evil incarnate. You run a psychiatric hospital you can’t say things like that. Whatever it is you did, whatever it is you're doing is wrong" Maya says sternly

This was making her sick. She couldn't believe this. She knew Sunshine Grove was shitty with how they'd push all the work onto her but she didn't think it was so shitty that they'd give a patient a drug they didn't even need. This was disgusting.  "Doctor Kaneko. You don't know what he did. this is much deeper than cocaine addiction"

"He's getting out on Monday! Mr. Kurokawa has been here for 2 months" Maya argues "If he did something so bad, he wouldn't be leaving. He'd be in jail"

Doctor Nakamura doesn't look like he has the patience for this. But Maya doesn't either. What was wrong, was wrong. "Listen Miss Kaneko..." He says slowly, now looking very aggravated, no longer using her proper title "We'll have this conversation on Monday when your shift starts. How about you go home? You must be exhausted"

It wasn't a suggestion but an order. "Unless you want to start looking for another hospital that will hire you, Miss Kaneko"

Maya feels a lump rise in her throat. No. Nonononono. No. She can't lose her job. She can't. She stares at Doctor Nakamura with wide eyes. This wasn't fair. She was trying to do the right thing and— shit. She opens her mouth to say something, to try and argue, to at least give him a threat of reporting him for mistreating Kurokawa Izana but nothing comes out. Maya feels powerless. It was between her livelihood and her morals. Was this what her mother meant? Was this what she meant when she said it was hard to be a doctor? Maya thought psychiatrists were different. She thought... She thought... This wasn't fair. She clenches his fists and lowers her head. "Yes sir" she says in defeat and promptly leaves the office

Maya walks back to the lockrooms with her head down. She feels like shit. She can't believe she gave in that easily. She hates herself. She can't even get herself to go back up to Izana's room and give him an explanation. She's horrible. She's a shit person and she knows that the guilt is gonna make her sick till she throws up. Maya pulls her hair out of the bun and runs her fingers through it angrily as she walks into the locker room without paying attention to her surroundings. stupidstupidstupidstupidstupidstupidstupidstupidstupidstupid— "shit!"

Maya looks up at realizes she just had her book main character moment where she bumps into the really hot guy's rock-hard chest. The guy no doubt was very hot. He's a security guard by the looks of the uniform but doesn't look like anyone she's seen on duty before. He has black hair parted in the center, olive-toned skin and heterochromatic eyes, one red and the other silver. But what really caught Maya's eye was the scar on his face. Starting from his left ear, going over the corner of his left(silver) eye then up across his forehead and disappearing into his hairline. Maya stops staring and lowers her gaze. "S-sorry" she stutters out "I wasn't watching where I was going. My bad"

He's tall and oh... Wow, he's well-built. Maya has to will herself to tear her gaze away from his chest. This guy 100% had a fricken six-pack underneath that uniform. "It's fine..." He pauses and looks at her up and down "You look tired Doctor"

Maya laughs nervously. Oh man, this guy was hot. It's almost making her forget about the guilt. Oh wait, nope she remembered it again. "Well, I'm new and you know, these oldies like pushing their work onto the newbies," She says with a shrug "I'm going home right now though... I haven't seen you around though"

The man is staring at her ID card pinned to her coat. "Hm.. Yeah, I am... I'll be taking the night shift from now on. 4th floor. They're just gonna be showing me around today"

Maya's eyes light up. New eye candy for the 4th floor now that Izana was leaving? Okay, maybe that makes her feel a little better. "Oh I work night shifts on the fourth floor too" she gives the man a friendly smile "I'm Doctor Kaneko Maya"

The man nods. Professional but also somewhat friendly. "Hitto Kakucho. I prefer just Kakucho"

Hitto? That was an odd last name. She doesn't think she's ever heard it before. But his odd last name slipped her mind pretty quickly due to the guilt she was feeling and the unholy thoughts about Kakucho that were going through her head. Oh man, he's hot and these contrasting feelings are making her head hurt. "I'll be seeing you on Monday then Doctor" Kakucho says "Get home safe"

Maya nods and Kakucho brushes past her. The locker room is once again engulfed in silence and now all that's left is Maya's guilt. She sighs and texts Chifuyu to ask him to pick her up. 

Maya sits outside in the reception area waiting for Chifuyu to come get her. She usually drives herself but last night Chifuyu insisted on driving her last night. Maya stares at the white tiled floor, sighing for the nth time. She felt like actual shit. The guilt is making her sick. Izana had been given that damn sedative for 2 months. Sometimes she'd administer it to him too. For what? For some messed up reason, she's still yet to find out. Maya feels guilty and gross and just horrible. She wants to cry. She hates this. None of this was fair. Why did it have to be her patient? Had she really just got herself caught up in something stupid all for the sake of money? Shit shit shit Maya really hated herself right now. "fuck~" she whines to herself and leans forward till her forehead touches her knees while she sits in the chair 

She feels like a stupid idiot. She should have just asked Izana what he was here for on the first day instead of trying to be nice and let him open up on his own. Now look where being nice got her. Maya flinches as her phone vibrates. She gets up and grabs her bag off the floor. It was probably Chifuyu. She bids goodbye to the man at the reception and leaves the building at the sight of a black car outside. Except it's not Chifuyu leaning against the car, it's Naoto. Her cheeks flush. Of-fucking-course Chifuyu was trying to play matchmaker. Right now wasn't a good time with how sick she felt. "hey" Naoto says with a small smile

He looks shy and had it not been for her guilt, Maya knows she'd probably be feeling the same way. "H-Hey, did Chifuyu send you?" Maya asks nervously "I'm so sorry"

Naoto shakes his head and opens the passenger seat of his car. "Oh no don't worry. Was on a break anyway. Chifuyu said he was busy and told me to come" 

Maya slides into the passenger seat and after making sure she's sitting comfortably he closes the door. Maya puts her bag on the floor of the car and puts on her seat belt. Naoto gets into the driver's side and starts the car. "I thought you had the night shift, what are you doing here so late?" He asks putting on his seatbelt

"They had a shortage... I'll be getting paid for overtime though so it's fine" Maya says trying to ignore the shitty feeling of guilt that just isn't going away

Oh man, she needed a drink. "You look exhausted. Should get some sleep when I drop you home" Naoto tells her as he pulls out of the parking lot and then out of the front gate of the hospital

"Yeah, I will.... gonna shower and just sleep and..." She pauses and thinks for a moment as they make it onto the main road "Can I ask you something?"

"You just did" Naoto points out with a small laugh and Maya can't help but laugh as well. "I'm kidding, ask away"

She thinks for a moment and tries her best to word her question. Perhaps getting an outside opinion would make her feel better. "You're a police officer, right? H-Has there ever been a time where you had to choose between your job or..." she pauses "Livelihood is a better word... Um... Has there ever been a time when you had to choose between your livelihood and your morals?"

Naoto looks surprised by her question. He keeps his eyes on the road as he answers. "W-well yeah... Have to all the time. Just last month I got called out on duty to arrest a woman for murder..." Naoto recalls then frowns "I asked her why she did it during interrogation she told me it was because the man raped her"

"Oh" Maya mumbles quietly

"You don't understand how badly I wanted to let her go. Murder is wrong but those cases... In those rare cases, even wrong can be right"

Maya takes in the information. She tries to apply it to her situation, to find just where the director was coming from but she couldn't. Kurokawa Izana didn't deserve that treatment. "But I have to say, Maya, if this is about work our situations are different... In other departments, things can be covered up by saying it was a fraud scam or corruption... In the medical department, however," He lowers his tone to "It's negligence of life... murder"

Maya's heart pounds. He was right. She didn't think of that. "Yeah... you're right" she mumbles

A silence washes over the car for a moment till Naoto speaks up again. "If there is something wrong at work, I can help you out" 

It was a nice offer but what was she supposed to say? Where was she supposed to start? Maya feels stupid because she knows she can just tell Naoto but she can't get herself to. She feels stupid and guilty and the feeling doesn't cease even as Naoto drops her off at her place. Maya's shoulder slouch as she unlocks her door. She hates this so much. A shudder passes through her suddenly at the feeling of being watched. Maya looks around for a moment and sees no one. She shakes her head and brushes it off as stress and goes into her home, locking the door behind her.

From the other side of the street, Kisaki Tetta blows out a cloud of smoke and scoffs.

notes: I do NOT condone any of the acts committed in this fic. Next chapter is gonna be my first time ever writing smut so plz, if it's bad I'm sorry 😭

I would also like to point out that I am a criminology major and don’t know much about the medical field, especially psychiatry. Everything written in this fic is not supposed to be accurate but just for the plot.

This is a double update so next chapter is already up. I have also added chapter summaries to the masterlist so go take a look!

I hope you enjoyed reading so far :)

updates are every monday

taglist: @kokonoiscoconut @mysouleaten @yaya4thawin @piroporopo @reiners-milkbiddies

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers fandom #tokyo revengers manila future timeline #izana x reader #izana kurokawa #tokyo revengers izana #tokyo rev #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers smut #tw. dark content #tw. dark themes #chifuyu matsuno #chifuyu x reader #mikey sano #mikey x reader #sano mikey manjiro #sano manjiro x reader #manjiro sano #mikey smut #izana smut #DEAD GIRL’S BEACH

[krystlind]

God's really making changes in my life, helping me overcome my flesh and live in the Spirit!

I never knew Obedience was such a key

and I must document this down

i am able to go through the day, even if I have the food thoughts... I didn't give in. I was able to have my blocks of time without needing the bits today.

i was just in flow, making my newsletter.. taking my time with it though! it wasn't fast, it was slow, and maybe that's okay

i was feeling anxious about the call with Erika, in the gym I heard: "I will tell you what to say." and "I brought her to you" and instructions "15 minutes before, make the plan." and I obediently turned down my flesh, not getting the snack at the gym, which would've taken away my grounding, planning time before Erika. to feel calm and prepared.

I watched Sasha Cohen's video again today, and it's almost like the words were spiritual. "the real Sasha Cohen" EVERY. SINGLE. WORD! I have chills. it's like God has been ministering to me for so much of my life with that video the whole time. and especially with: "all those coaches, and moving around the country.. it's a good thing she went back to her original coach. who knows her best." WOW! that's God to me.

While I was fasting on Monday, i heard "I call you by Name." and then that was the Chosen episode. and then that was the Sasha Cohen narrator line.

God is saying "I call you by name."

I want people to say "wow you are so fearless!" and me to say "I still have my fears, but they don't get to me, because my Fear is in God."

ED voice comes up and I'm starting to dis-identify it from me. I can hear it say "you want this next. you can get away with it because it's healthy." now I am identifying it, challenging it, "but why do we NEED it? are we really gonna be suffering without it?" and not snacking while I'm making it as if I need it in the moment, but making it a sacred dish and moment. and committing to that dish, letting myself enjoy the whole thing and really tuning into what is good and enough. and saying "this is good and enough, it lacks nothing." and then I turned down the blueberries which aren't bad but it was more of me ignoring the compulsion to need it, or else

I did my work today and I felt energized! -> let yourself experience what you're doing and let it be authentic.

What's clear to me

acknowledging the feelings, and choose to act otherwise (not having to make the feelings mean you have to act on it)

I can move slowly and let me experience something again. for example, today my newsletter. it was actually fun for me to put together, and I didn't rush it. I took my time with it. I allowed myself to enjoy doing it. -> lesson: give yourself permission to do things slowly and to enjoy the process more. see where you are rushing through it like a checkbox.

I like it when I feel like I'm talking to an inner circle. not everyone. lesson -> start communicating to your inner group now, not making content or message for the general masses.

I can't let my voice be taken away. my tone. the minute it becomes generic, we lose the people. the human-ness is what people need.

Also, all these signs are leading to cabin in the woods

my desktop background, then sola just pointed out the notebook (I forgot!) I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do in the woods, but I know I want to take like a 4-5 day retreat and let it be between me and God

Also, signs that God is leading me into CEO/1o1 structure level

Erika, "how can I help you?" just as easy as that! I'm so grateful God. and I feel like I spoke with Wisdom "here is our plan, we are finalizing the roadmap for the year, next week this date, I'll share that with you, it would be great to have you as eagle eyes, blindspot, someone who believes in our big vision but can be real"

I asked the right questions: "what role do you play for other startups/orgs" and "here's what my plan was, as we first discussed, I would get the crowdfund fulfillment, we would see how that rolled out and then revisit conversations around being an angel" and she followed up with what needed from me. again more assets which is so good! "GTM, event sponsorship, etc"

and then Sola is having me join her webinar as a Community Engineer and I can go over the P to P to P plan, it will force me to articulate and structur-ize this ... as I've been wanting to!

I really believe God is going to have me help people build IRL community systems, and I wll be fighting isolation, getting people off social media, basically start doing what I'm doing which is really weaning myself/brain off of it, using it like the tool it was meant to be

and not a substitute for real community and connection

need confirmation from God

articulation classes? speech?

idk why I keep getting inspirations around doing music again.. just not sure how

where do I go in Feb 22 who knows? i think honestly it might be the end of us.. and that's okay. i have a feeling we are gonna be good friends.

Some realizations I had tonight while brushing my teeth

why do I get anxious when my friends start to rise higher? I started to follow this trail down to it's root. so let's go there

because I actually feel they might leave me behind, they might forget about me, or not want to be friends with me again

is there evidence of this or them ever doing this? no

so this is actually clearly a reflection of how I feel about myself and worthiness to be their friend if they get higher in status

something about "status" with me then.. it's some kind of determinant

brings up my feelings (not sure where it started) but everyone in LLA/Filipino community, applauding *others* more, I'm not taken seriously, fear I'll fade away

"I'll show you all, everyone around me" in LL, Fil, and then I'm still owned by it. whatever you own ends up owning you.

"there's nothing more pressuring than unmet potential" Sasha Cohen. that's what I fear... God speak over me in this

like what do I do with these dreams? the potential? is it self delusion?

so clearly Status plays some big role here... like things trigger me bc it marks whether I am lowering or not

Status=getting places or not. but then there's people who don't care. they can glide. and they flow well with anyone in any class. everyone feels comfortable with them. Clem.

what if ... I am free of needing those status symbols. what if being free of the need for it, almost is what frees me upward, or downwards, sideways who knows... would it matter then?

and then I remembered reading in the Bible the other day, the lesson from Jesus about seating at the last seat. I have always known this story, not sure why it was being brought to my attention. but now I see

then from Jesus "choose the last seat" AH! that's scary.. aren't we supposed to self-promote in this world? I guess the point isn't to lay low, but not to chase the self-promotion-content game.

I actually think I'm more natural and averse at the non-self-promotion this whole time- when I see the trends, I don't wanna do them. I kinda like to be more stealthy. to stick to my community and what I do, and rise to more CEO status. CEOs are not chasing the fame... they are building a company, they are raising up leaders, they are doing the right things in private. like talking to Erika and building a "textbook"/structure for Sola's stuff :)

in the gym i realized

why are you putting them in a pedestal? just partner. go into it with honesty and preparation and clarity on your situation .. my learning? be clear on the ask

enter into his rest.. i had a visual of me externally interacting with the stakeholders, and then my inner world i'm resting like a child in jesus, safe, always secure

you did good though! you asked the right questions, you were authentic, you were clear

Again with Sasha Cohen!

"what a performer!" = oh... it's ok to be a performer!

"no longer afraid of making mistakes" = (in the gym I heard this next part) you are becoming one who is no longer scared of the mistakes, knowing that should they be made, you can overcome that, they won't define you

Overcoming being a perfectionist like her, but "you have to be perfect to stay in the game" so perfection in a way, is required but it's not me being perfect.. Christ is Perfect

I go to God because it's more FUN to partner with the Father :)

[weelittleweasley]

A Cup of Tea | Draco x Reader

Prompt as requested by anon: hii ! I’m in love with ur writing! anyways could you do one where reader meets Draco’s mom & Narcissa absolutely loves her ? And like her embarrassing draco & stuff like that ? Just thought it would be cute 🥺

Warnings: lots of fluff

A/N: I’m so glad to see that people are enjoying my writing again! Feels good to be writing again! I forgot how much I love to write for y’all! Enjoy the imagine and have a happy Monday!!

Flashbacks are told in italics!

Lacing your boots up, you sit on the edge your bed as your hair falls in front of your face. You tuck your hair behind your ears, rising from the bed and looking at yourself in the mirror in front of you. Sucking in a deep breath through your nose and out of your mouth, you inspect yourself. The black wrap dress clung to your figure nicely and your hair framed your face nicely. Nervously gnawing on your bottom lip, you grab your bag and jacket, trying not to thinking about the tight feeling in your chest as you prepped to meet your boyfriend’s mother for the first time. 

A week prior, you and Draco sat in his dormitory as you worked quietly at his desk on your homework. Draco laid on his bed, tossing a ball up and down, remaining silent with little sighs here and there. The silence was comfortable as Draco patiently waited for you to finish your work before you could give your full attention. Maybe patiently waiting was a little too generous...

“Darling, you must be nearly done. You’ve been at that desk for hours,” Draco groans, sitting up, watching you scribble into your notebook alongside a slew of textbooks.

Without shifting your gaze, you reply, “I’m almost done. Please give me five more minutes, love.”

He groans and falls melodramatically back on his bed, continuing to throw the ball up and down. You take a few more moment writing some last notes from this night’s reading into your book before shutting the books closed and turning around in your chair. You look at the boy who lays on his bed, huffing about how stupid it was that he has been waiting for hours when in reality it was an hour and a half at most he was waiting for you to finish. “Are you done with your antics, Malfoy?” you ask him, a teasing smile dancing on your glossy lips. 

Draco sits straight up and a cheeky smile finds its way to his mouth. “At last,” he breathes out as you walk over to him and he wastes absolutely no time throwing his ball to the other side of his room, pulling you into his lap, your usual seat. You allow a few small giggles to slip out of your mouth as he pulls you in, burying your face into the crook of his neck, breathing his scent in deeply. He smelled like cologne and apples. A pleasant combination to your senses. Draco places a small kiss to your temple before laying down on the bed, causing you to straddle him on his bed. “Best seat in the house,” he jokes, looking up at you. You looked like a vision; a toothy grin on your face, wispy hair falling front of your eyes as you brush it out of your view, your Hogwarts uniform hugging you in every place perfectly. He never knew how sexy that god awful uniform could look on someone. 

You two remain in this position for a little while, his thumbs rubbing small circles into your hip bones, as you brush the white blonde hair on his head with your fingers. Cupping his cheek with one of your hands, you stroke it with your thumb before he turns his head and places a gentle kiss to your palm. Draco was putty under your touch. The boy would do anything you asked him to. He lived to make you happy, to make you feel special, to make you feel loved. If you asked him for the world, he would give it to you with the moon and the stars. You wished that other people could see this soft side of Draco, but at the same time, you loved that it was a little secret between the two of you. Only you got to see how gentle and kind he was; how thoughtful he could be. “Dray?” you ask as he hums in response, lacing your fingers with his, him gently kissing your knuckles individually. “What do you think our future holds?” 

“Well, we’ll be married, of course,” Draco does not hesitate to answer this question, which brought you comfort. Draco talked nearly all the time about how much he wanted to make you his wife. If you weren’t still in school, he’d be down on one knee right now, proposing that you spend the rest of your lives with each other. “We can move into the manor with my parents,” he starts, watching him play with your hands, looking at the lines on your palms. This part of his proposition made you a little uneasy. Rather than living with Draco’s parents, you’d rather find a place of your own, away from all the madness of the Malfoy’s. You loved Draco, no question, but you didn’t know if you would love living with his parents. Speaking of which, of who you have not met yet. Well, technically you have met his father, but you would rather not chose to remember that awkward encounter. You smiling wide at him as Lucius looked at you with disgust, saying that his son was not dating any girl after you introduced yourself as Draco’s girlfriend. With that, he kept walking down the halls of Hogwarts, leaving you feeling quite embarrassed. “Something wrong?” Draco asks, propping himself up on his elbows, sitting halfway up. He noticed the tension in your shoulders when he brought up living with his parents.

Shaking your head back and forth, you reply, “No, I’m alright. Keep talking.” You press a small kiss to his lips trying to encourage him to keep talking about your future together. As you pull away, Draco has a look on his face that screams I’m not buying it. “Really, darling, I’m alright. Continue,” you push his shoulders, jokingly making him smirk. Draco thinks for a moment before his eyes lighting up like a Christmas tree. “Oh no,” your smile drops. “I know that face and I don’t like where this is going already.”

Draco laughs and sits up straight so your chests are now touching. “I want you to meet my mother,” he confesses and your heart stops beating for a moment. Your mouth goes dry and you try to keep yourself composed as to not alarm Draco. “I know the two of you will get on like a house on fire. You’ll come to the manor with me next week on holiday, won’t you?” he asks, his eyes pleading you to say yes. His blue eyes bore into you. Merlin, how were you supposed to say no. Feigning excitement, you nod your head up and down with a small hum. He chuckles, “Brilliant. I’ll send an owl and tell mother she should expect a very special guest.” Draco closes the gap between you two, pressing a hard kiss to your lips, showing you how thankful he was that the two most important women in his life would be meeting. You on the other hand, were absolutely horrified. 

Now, here you were, bag and jacket in hand, making your way to Draco’s dormitory, your heart pounding out of your chest. It’s not that you didn’t want to meet Draco’s mother, you were just scared that you wouldn’t live up to her expectations. The Malfoy’s were one of, if not, the most powerful family of wizards. They had money, status, wealth, and power; something some people can only dream of, but something you were scared of. You and Draco came from two completely different backgrounds. You were not a pureblood Slytherin and you knew that this may pose a problem, considering how passionate Narcissa Malfoy was about having a pureblood line.Your parents were both wizards, your father was a Ravenclaw, mother a Slytherin. Of course, when you got to Hogwarts, you took after your mother, the sorting hat calling out Slytherin before the hat even touched your head, making you smile wide. Your parents weren’t very wealthy, money wasn’t something you had excess of. They had made you get a summer job alongside muggles, they insisted that teaching you the value of money at a young age would instill good habits in you. But now that you were taken by a Malfoy, money was never really a problem. If you even mentioned in passing that you wanted or needed something, it would be on your bed the next day with a love note from Draco. But still, you weren’t raised like that and the idea of spending money frivolously made your nerves act up. 

Your thoughts are halted when you arrive at Draco’s door, tapping gently on his door. In two seconds, the door swings open to reveal a smiling Draco. He looks handsome, black turtleneck and blazer, freshly pressed trousers, and shiny black leather shoes. Draco looks you up and down and his smile grows wider if possible. “Perfect,” he coos before grabbing your waist and kissing you sweetly. He always knew what to say. “Are you ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you sigh, nervously straightening out the pleats in your dress. 

Draco closes his door behind him and takes your hand in his, making your way to the outside of the castle. “Oh, don’t worry. Mother will adore you. I just know it,” he squeezes your hand. “And if she doesn’t, too bad because I love you.” You give him a weak smile and kiss his cheek. At least you knew that Draco would be at your defense if all else fails. 

The trip to the Wiltshire was smooth, but you were anything but. Thoughts circled your head constantly. What if she knows I’m not a pure blood Slytherin? What if she thinks I’m dressed inappropriately? What if she heard from Lucius that he thinks I’m a stupid git? What if she takes one look at me tells me to leave? But these thoughts didn’t help the time move slower. 

And there you were, standing in front of Malfoy Manor, Draco’s fingers laced with yours, you holding his arm for extra support. You bit your lip nervously, scanning Draco’s face, looking for any hesitation. If he told you that he changed his mind, you would not hesitate leaving the manor right now. But it’s far too late when Draco has knocked on the large door in front of him. “You’ll be brilliant,” Draco tells you, kissing your nose.

Before you can open up your mouth to respond, the large door swings open to reveal Narcissa Malfoy. You expected someone else to open the door, but no, there she was in her full glory. Narcissa was more beautiful than you could ever expect. Brown hair pulled in an updo, while the platinum blonde that matched Draco’s fell on her shoulders perfectly. She wore a dark green snakeskin jacket that fell to the floor with a luxurious silk black dress and black leather boots. “There’s my boy,” she smiles, opening her arms to which Draco entered, hugging his mother tightly. Your nervousness subsided slightly as you watched the boy you loved give his mother a warm embrace. “I’ve missed you dearly,” she whispers in her son’s ear, giving him a kiss on the top of his head. 

They break their embrace before Draco steps to the side and says, “Mother, this is (Y/N). She’s my girlfriend. (Y/N), this is my mother.” After he says that, his eyes dart back and forth between his mother and you. He’s so nervous of who will speak first, how she will react to you, how you will react to her. He just wants the two women he loves to get along. 

Gulping hard, you decide to speak first. “It’s such a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Malfoy. Draco has told me so much about you,” you offer her the warmest smile you could ever produce and extend a hand out to shake hers. 

Narcissa laughs and pushes your hand away. Your heart stops. She hates me already. It hasn’t even been five minutes and she wants me dead. “Don’t be silly, (Y/N). Call me Narcissa,” she speaks and immediately wraps you in a hug, squeezing you so tight. Your eyes widen as you look at Draco whilst hugging his mother. You have never seen Draco smile this big before in his life. His happiness makes you happy as you hug his mother back tightly. She pulls away, holding you back at arm’s length to take a good look at you. “Draco, you did not do Miss (Y/N) justice in describing her. She is even more beautiful than I could ever imagine,” she looks at her son with a smile. Draco smiles wide as you thank her for the compliment. “You two must be cold and hungry from the trip here. Please, come in, I have a kettle on the stove and biscuits.”

Draco leads you into the manor, you look around, taking its in stunning architecture and decor. The manor was decorated with ornate pieces in emerald green, blacks, and greys. The staple color palette of Slytherins. “Your home is beautiful, Narcissa,” you compliment.

“Thank you, darling,” she coos as she walks you and Draco into the main dining room, a long black marble table stretched from one end of the room to the other. Three place settings are at one end, green and silver tea cups and saucers sit beautifully on the table with plates of biscuits, sweets, and other foods. “This house has been in the Malfoy family for generations. It all started with Armand Malfoy who-”

“Mother, please,” Draco whines, knowing that this story would last for ages if his girlfriend let his mother tell the entirety of the story. 

Narcissa rolls her eyes. “I’m sorry, Draco doesn’t like my storytelling. He thinks I make the story longer than I need it to be,” Narcissa looks at her son, eyebrows raised giving him a knowing look as Draco mockingly laughs at her. “I think I tell stories just fine.”

You decide to add a little wood on the fire and tease Draco right back. “He does the same with me. I cannot possibly tell him a story of my day when he gets bored the moment I open my mouth. Not to mention, he is the one who asked for the story in the first place!” you tease, causing Draco to look at you, feigning offense. 

His mother laughs brightly, throwing her head back. “Yes! Exactly! Oh, Draco, I’m so glad you brought home a lady who has a sense of humor. Come, (Y/N), follow me in the kitchen. I’ll tell you the story of the Manor whilst Draco waits out here for the tea to finish steeping,” Narcissa links your arms together and every single bit of nervousness and fear melts away in that moment. “Draco, dear, get napkins for us,” she instructs before whisking you away into the kitchen, asking what tea preference you have. 

Hours have past, and here you were sitting at the Malfoy’s dining room table, tears in your eyes from laughing alongside Narcissa. She has now pulled out Draco’s baby book, pointing out pictures of the young child in the bathtub, soap sudds all over his head, naked little body in the shallow water. “He was two and a half here. He had just come back from a walk in the garden and he was covered in mud. The poor child had fallen into a puddle and was crying that he got dirty and demanded a bath,” Narcissa recalls the happy memory as Draco groans and leans back in his chair as you gaze upon the sweet photo. 

“Aw, come on, Draco, you look adorable,” you coo as your fingers delicately touch the image pasted onto the parchment of the baby book. Draco shoots you a menacing glare as you giggle, flipping to the next page. 

The day was going so smoothly. Narcissa asked you about school, your passions, how you and Draco fell in love...she wanted to know everything about you. She was so kind, it reminded you of how kind Draco could be. He had obviously inherited that from his mother and not his father. You were shocked. How could someone so lovely be married to someone so cruel? 

Wiping the tear from the corner of her eye, Narcissa closes the baby book. “Alright, I think Draco has had enough teasing for today,” she says as Draco huffs a finally. “Darling, could you go bring the teacups into the kitchen please?” she asks Draco as he happily obliges. “So, tell me, (Y/N),” she starts when Draco leaves the dining room. “And tell me honestly, where do you see this relationship with Draco going? Is there a future?” she asks, her hands finding yours, giving them a light squeeze, hoping that the answer is yes.

Now this was something you could talk about. “Narcissa, I love your son more than the sun loves the moon. He’s my everything,” you confess to her, making a grin appear on her face. “He makes me the happiest I have ever been,” you tell her simply.

“We do intend on getting married, Mother,” Draco interrupts the conversation as you and Narcissa shoot him a look, letting him know that he ruined the sweet moment between the two women. “Was I not supposed to say that?”

You laugh and shake your head, “You’re fine, darling. But yes, we do plan on getting married immediately after we done with school.” 

This makes Narcissa just beam with joy. “Thank Merlin,” she places a hand over her heart. “I was hoping you would say that. I didn’t want someone like Pansy Parkinson marrying my son,” she tells you, causing you to look at Draco as you two both laugh. “Well, just so you know (Y/N), you know that you are welcome to move in here with myself, Draco, and my husband after you finish your education. This home is also your home. Not to mention, I would love another lady in the house,” she tells you with a wink.

Her offer makes your heart glow. When Draco proposed this a week ago, your nerves set in and made you worry. But now thinking about living in the manor with Draco and his wonderful mother only made your heart swell with love and adoration. “Thank you, Narcissa, from the bottom of my heart. It means the world to me that you would open your home to someone like me,” you tell her.

Narcissa furrows her brows and realizes what you were talking about. “Just because you aren’t pureblood Slytherin doesn’t make you any less of a wonderful woman and witch. My son loves you which only makes me love you even more,” she tells you before stroking your cheek with her finger. Her gesture makes you tear up a little bit. This woman radiated kindness and you didn’t understand how you were so lucky to love a boy who had the most incredible woman as a mother. 

Draco looks upon the two of you and his heart could not be more full. His mother loved you as if you were her own and he could only imagine how happy that made you. Draco watched the two women he loved have their own moment, a smile plastered on his face. “I hate to do this, but we should really be heading back to school. I have a quidditch match tomorrow and need to rest up for it,” Draco speaks. 

“Oh, of course, darling,” Narcissa speaks as the three of you rise from the table. “You know you are always welcome to come home whenever you please. No need to let me know when you are coming. The doors are always open,” Narcissa tells you both. She walks you both to the door and you have to admit, you were a little sad to leave. There was still so much to talk about. Narcissa looks at you and smiles sweetly. “It was so lovely to finally meet you, (Y/N).”

You take Narcissa’s hands and give them a squeeze. “Same to you. You are so lovely, today was wonderful,” you admit as she scoops you into an embrace. “I’m sure we will see each other again soon.”

Narcissa gives you a sweet smile and tells you to send an owl if you were in need of anything. She then looks to her son and cups his cheeks, looking him in the eyes with so much love. She places a tender kiss on his forehead before giving him a hug goodbye. “I’ll see you soon, Mother,” Draco holds his mother in his arms for a long while and you swear you can hear a small sob escape from Narcissa’s lips. She loved this boy so much, it seems like she would break. “I’ll be home for Christmas. Maybe (Y/N) can spend some time with us,” he offers as you shake your head excitedly. You can only imagine how beautifully the Manor would be decorated for the holidays. 

The two of you leave the Manor, hand in hand as Narcissa waves goodbye and blows a kiss before shutting the door. You look at Draco and he just laughs. “What?” you ask, slapping his arm. “What’s so funny, you bloody idiot?”

“I think my Mother loves you more than she loves me,” he laughs as you roll your eyes. 

“I’m starting to like your mother more than I like you,” you joke as he acts hurt. “Kidding,” you laugh as you kiss him sweetly. “Maybe.”

#draco #draco imagine #draco malfoy #draco x female reader #draco x you #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy oneshot #draco malfoy fanficiton #draco malfoy x female reader #draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #harry potter #harry potter imagine #hogwarts #slytherin #narcissa malfoy

[dreaming-about-fanfictions]

Choose Me Instead II Draco Malfoy x Reader II Chapter 10 of 27: Dating

Summary: Pretending to be in a relationship with Draco Malfoy to get back at your ex might have not been the smartest idea you ever had. Especially during your last year of Hogwarts where you should be focusing on exams and your future plans. However, you were just pretending. There was no way in hell you could actually catch feelings for someone like Malfoy. … Right?

CHAPTER 9

A/N: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL YOUR AMAZING FEEDBACK! I AM BEYOND GRATEFUL FOR EVERYONE WHO READS THIS STORY! This project has become so important to me and I have so much fun working on it! Thank you thank you thank you! Also - this chapter is a little shorter and more ‘calm’ at first. But be prepared, it’s still very important to everything that follows it!! <33 Enjoy!

Words: 3.1k Pairing: Draco Malfoy x fem!Reader Warnings: none

Two days after Hogsmeade …

Monday morning. You yawned and it turned into a chuckle when Malfoy mimicked you.

“It’s contagious,” he defended himself quietly to avoid attracting Professor Sprouts attention. He sat next to you, way back in the last row of the classroom. It had been your idea – after finding out that almost none of your friends believed your act, it seemed like a good idea to sit next to each other during classes. Maybe it would help convince them.

With a flick of her wand, Professor Sprout made an assignment appear on the blackboard. Nothing too difficult. You walked to the front to get the small flower you were supposed to work with and Ron glared at you from his seat. You ignored him.

Back at your table, Malfoy and you started working together quietly. When you looked at his notes, you leaned over a little too closely, feeling dizzy from the smell of his cologne. Whenever he reached for something, his hand brushed over yours. His comments were accompanied by smiles and direct eye contact. He played his part so well, you almost believed it. From the corners of your vision, you saw Ron staring.

You acted the same in every class that you shared. During breaks, you stayed together – always a few feet away from the others. You discovered how funny he could be when he gave you live-commentary of a fight happening between a Ravenclaw and Slytherin.

In the evening, you came back to your dorm, feeling unusually content. Not even the letter from the parents on your desk changed that. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so harsh, your mother had written. I simply don’t understand and I am scared for you. I can’t lose you too.

“Oh, mum,” you whispered, rubbing your neck. Then you sat down and reached for a quill. She deserved the truth. At least, a little of it.

 ***

One week after Hogsmeade …

Draco was happy.

Well, maybe happy was a little exaggerated but he felt … calmer. He used to spend his free time by himself which gave him plenty of opportunities to think. About the war, his parents, himself – and it nearly killed him. The notebook was an escape, a good way to focus, but it wasn’t enough. No matter how many pages he filled, he still felt himself sliding away from his surroundings. Now he spent that time with you – and things began to change. In those few days he even stopped dreading getting out of bed because Draco had finally something to look forward to again: spending time with you.

Draco considered you his friend. A part of him had trouble with the realization since being around someone like you went against everything his parents taught him but he tried tirelessly to shut it off. No, you were his friend and being around you made him feel almost okay.

“What are you writing?”

The sound of your voice caused Draco to look up from his notebook. The two of you sat in the library. You were across from him, finishing up on some homework. Draco shrugged. What was he supposed to say? I’m writing about you? Certainly not.

“Can I read it at some point?”, you tilted your head in curiosity. You did that a lot, Draco noticed. It reminded him of a puppy.

Am I comparing her to a dog?, he scolded himself in the next second. No, he didn’t mean it like that. He meant to think that he thought it was cute when you did that. You … were cute.

“It’s okay,” you finally said with a smile when you sensed his hesitation. “It’s personal, I get it – or do you keep track of dirty dreams in it?” You teased him.

“Only of the dreams involving you,” he winked at you, causing you to snort. Despite the joke, Draco was relieved you didn’t dig any further.

From where he sat, he had a direct view of the huge door leading inside the library. This was the reason why he saw the Greengrass sisters walking in, their gaze immediately landing upon him. He casually reached over the table and softly began to draw circles on your soft skin with the tip of his finger. He smirked at your shiver.

“Ron?”, you asked, not looking up from your book.

“Astoria,” he replied.

A few minutes later, Astoria and Daphne left again. Draco didn’t pull his hand away.

 ***

Two weeks after Hogsmeade …

Snowflakes were dancing in the cold winter air as you sat on the bleachers with Malfoy. Down on the Quidditch field, the Slytherins were practicing under the strong rule of Zabini. Games were cancelled but they still needed to stay in shape.

“I never pictured you as an Auror,” Malfoy confessed. He had asked about your future plans just seconds before.

“Why?”, you wanted to know.

He thought about it for a moment. “I don’t know. I always thought you’d become … a healer. Or a teacher maybe.”

His words made you laugh. “Are you serious?”

Malfoy nodded.

“Well, no,” you shrugged. “I wanted to be an Auror since I was little girl. And I’ll make it, believe me.”

He raised his hands in a defensive manner. “I have no doubts about that. It simply surprised me.”

You chuckled another time at the thought of becoming a teacher. It had always been the furthest thing on your mind. You loved Hogwarts, it had been your home for years but you craved to see more from the world. Especially since the war happened. You didn’t want to spend your whole life in this castle.

“What do you want to do?”, you then asked, curious as to what his answer might be. It was hard for you to picture him outside of school.

Malfoy shrugged. “I don’t know.”

It surprised you. “Really?”, you wondered. “Pureblood families like yours normally have a plan set up for their kids, don’t they?”

“Normally,” he laughed bitterly. “My father wanted me to follow his footsteps and get some high-ranking job in the Ministry. That’s not an option anymore. For obvious reasons.”

He was probably right. The wounds were still too fresh. The chances for a former Death Eater to be employed in the Ministry of Magic were slim.

You stayed on the bleachers for hours. It had only been a little over two weeks since the Halloween party and yet you had become a lot closer to Malfoy than you expected. You felt comfortable talking to him. Both of you had very different childhoods and friends – you came from different worlds. However, it was precisely this fact that made it easy to talk to each other. You were almost certain that he felt the same.

 ***

Three weeks after Hogsmeade …

Draco watched you flick through the pages of a magazine and for the first time since that night in the storage room, he saw you. And by Merlin, how beautiful you were.

He sat on the couch in the Room of Requirements with you, listening to the flames crackling in the small fireplace in front of him. You were laying down on your back, head propped up against the armrest, a small wrinkle on your forehead as you read the descriptions in the magazine. Your legs were stretched out and on his lap. Draco wondered why – no one would be around to see you anyways.

“Stop staring, Malfoy, it’s creepy,” you giggled.

Draco blinked as he snapped back into reality. “I’m not staring, I’m thinking, Y/L/N.”

“Think without staring at me.”

Easier said than done.

Draco cleared his throat. “What are you looking at anyways?”

“Christmas presents for my parents. But,” you clicked your tongue, “I can’t find anything good.”

Draco grabbed your legs and lifted them slightly while moving over closer to you. “Let me see. I’m awesome at getting gifts.”

 ***

Four weeks after Hogsmeade …

When December arrived, Hogwarts felt like home again. A cheerful atmosphere filled the castle, accompanied by snowball fights outside and hot chocolates in the common rooms. As if a spell was lifted, something changed within the students and parents alike.

You happily noticed how Ginny needed less and less of her sleeping medicine. The nightmares slowly faded, being replaced by happier memories. The letters from your mother barely mentioned your sister anymore. Instead, she talked about carriage rides in the snow with your father and her plans for Christmas dinner. For the first time in a while, you looked forward to going home.

You wondered if it was the same for Draco. When they put up the Christmas tree in the Great Hall, he got even more quiet than usual. It planted an idea inside your head and on that same day, you wrote a letter to your parents, asking them if he could spend the holidays with them. They agreed. It came to no surprise to you; your mother was eager to meet him and see if her prejudices and fears would be proven right.

“I don’t want to impose,” Draco said with a stern voice when you told him after dinner.

“You’re not! I asked them and they want to meet you. Come on,” you insisted.

He watched you with uncertainty and furrowed brows. “I don’t know. I can’t –”

“What are your plans for Christmas?”, you interrupted him.

Draco looked away at the question; that same expression of bitterness on his face that you’d seen too often for your own liking.

“I thought so,” you said softly. “Please, Draco, come with me.”

He sighed and wiped his hands over his eyes. “Why would they even want to meet me?”

You smiled widely. “You’re my boyfriend.” Never would you have thought it would sound normal to say that.

“Yes, but –”, he lowered his voice, “– but not really.”

True. For a weird reason, it stung a little to be reminded by him. “I am your friend though, aren’t I?”

He blinked at the word ‘friend’ and you wondered if he felt differently about it. Then he nodded.

“Awesome!”, you exclaimed, shooing away your worries. “Then it’s settled. Christmas at my place.”

In that moment, Harry and Ron walked passed you. Ron didn’t even glance at you. How weird, you wondered, this was the first time in days that you thought about him.

 ***

Five weeks after Hogsmeade …

 My dearest Draco,

I am delighted to hear that Y/N’s family invited you for Christmas. They are very kind to do so. Please remember to bring a little housewarming gift. Although it hurts me to be away from you this Christmas, I do believe it’s a better option for you than visiting your grandparents with me. I’m sure the holidays will be spent in a rather somber spirit this year as your father will be unable to join us. I want you to have at least a little fun and am looking forward to your stories.

Lots of love, your Mother

P.S.: I met with Mrs. Greengrass yesterday. She is not upset and gave me her word to wait until you are ready.

Draco shook his head in amusement when he finished reading the letter. Only his mother could wish him a nice time with his (fake) girlfriend and then continue with ‘if you’re done having fun, your fiancée is still available’.

“That’s why pureblood traditions are fucked up,” was something you would say right now. But you weren’t here. You were practicing for the first Quidditch game in the new year and Draco sat in his dorm, waiting for Blaise to get ready.

Reading the letter a second time, he started to wonder. Why would Mrs. Greengrass wait? Why did their family want this union so desperately? The questions were lingering on his mind ever since you brought them up months ago. He failed to come up with an answer to this day.

“Please don’t tell me that’s a letter to Y/N,” Blaise announced when he stepped out of the bathroom.

Draco rolled his eyes. “It’s from my mother, idiot.”

“Good,” his friend sighed dramatically. “Because I rarely get to see you now that you have her. No need for you to start writing love letters when she’s not around.”

Even though his nagging slightly annoyed Draco, he realized something in this moment: it had worked. The whole PDA and ‘being-more-affective-in-public’- thing worked. It had been almost two weeks since Theo or Blaise (or even Astoria) tried to get him to confess that they were faking it. His friends started to believe them.

“Yeah, whatever,” Draco gave a dismissive wave of his hand and put the letter away. “Maybe I just don’t want to see you, Zabini, and it has nothing to do with Y/N.”

Blaise laughed. “No, you love me too much. Now, let’s go. Theo’s waiting for us.”

 ***

Six weeks after Hogsmeade …

A loud shriek echoed through the classroom and you almost dropped the container of cat teeth on the floor. Parkinson jumped up and down, trying to get a slimy violet mass shaken off her leg. It didn’t budge and made its way up her pants, accompanied by absolutely disgusting slurping and smacking sounds. You tried hard to suppress a laugh but when you saw the way Harry grinned behind her, you couldn’t stop yourself from chuckling.

Professor Slughorn hurried over and quickly cast a spell. The mass fell down to the floor and stopped moving. “Oh well, Ms. Parkinson,” he quickly glanced inside her cauldron. “It’s important to add the cat teeth before the mandrake juice.” Then he knelt down in front of her, inspecting her pants. “It looks like nothing got on your skin. If I am mistaken, please go and see Madame Pomfrey. It can leave nasty burns behind.”

The Slytherin girl nodded, still in shock.

“What happened?”, Draco joined you at your table. He had gone to the backroom, to gather missing ingredients.

“Parkinson got attacked by her potion,” you sneered while counting the cat teeth. “It was hilarious.”

“I bet,” he grinned, before skimming over the instructions again.

“I think I need to go and see Madame Pomfrey,” Parkinson whined behind you. “It got through the fabric of my pants.”

As if, you thought and rolled your eyes.

“Please go,” you heard Slughorn say. “Better not take any chances. Interestingly, this modified form of the potion has been used in the past. They removed foreign magical particles with it, such as certain marks that resulted from dark spells. It is very aggressive though and since then, the healers have invented different potions. However, when it touches your normal skin, it only leaves burns and scars. Please, Ms. Parkinson, please go. Mr. Nott, you can accompany her.”

“Huh,” Draco made next to you. “What did she do wrong again?”

You sighed when you saw that you had miscounted the teeth. Damnit.

“Y/N?”

“What?”, you looked at him.

Draco stared at the liquid inside the cauldron, a blank expression on his face. “What did Pansy do wrong?”

“She put in the mandrake juice before the cat teeth.” You frowned. “Why?”

“No reason.”

 ***

That same day …

It was late when you returned from Quidditch practice; tired and sweaty. All you craved was a shower and then your bed. Playing that sport in your free time was one thing but practicing under Ginny as Captain? You were glad that you didn’t die yet.

“Y/L/N!”

Someone shouted your name as you walked inside the castle.

“Y/L/N!”

Irritated, you turned around, trying to make out the person that voice belonged to.

“Y/L/N, here!” Theodore Nott sprinted down the stairs, coming from the direction of the Gryffindor common room. “Fuck, we looked everywhere for you!”, he cursed, completely out of breath, when he finally reached you.

“We?”, you asked with wide eyes. “What’s going on?”

You then noticed the fear in his eyes. He gripped so tightly onto the stair railings that his knuckles turned white and his whole body was trembling. Panic began to dwell up inside of you. Draco.

“It’s Draco, something happened,” he panted. “You have to come, please!”

Your blood froze. “What’s going on?!”, your voice turned shrill but he ran down the stairs again.

“Come!”, he shouted. “Now!”

The two of you sprinted down stairs and hallways, passing confused classmates on the way. Adrenaline pumped through your veins and you repeated the same sentence over and over again in your head: Something happened to Draco. The thought of it was unbearable and it hit you like a brick wall, making it hard to breathe. Please, no. Not him.

When you reached the entrance to the Slytherin common room, Theodore turned to you abruptly. He grabbed you by your shoulders. “Act normal,” he hissed. “Walk slowly. They don’t need to know.”

You nodded absently. Your hands were clam and you tried to calm down your breathing.

“Okay,” he didn’t seem convinced that you understood him. Then he mumbled the password and the door opened.

Under normal circumstances, you would have stopped in the middle of the room, looking around in awe. You’d never been here before; it was a mystery to you. But now, you only briefly glanced at the green and black furniture. There weren’t many students around. The ones that saw you, stared at your red Quidditch robes.

“What the fuck?”, someone said loudly. “What’s she doing here?!”

Nott ignored them, leading you quickly to the stairs that must have led up to the dorms. You noticed the windows on the way up and gasped when you realized that you didn’t look at the fields of Hogwarts. You were under the Black Lake.

“Finally,” Zabini exclaimed. He had waited in front of a door, looking just as shaken up as Nott. “You found her.”

“What’s going on?”, you asked for the third time now. “Where is he?”, your voice trembled a little.

“In here,” Nott pointed at the room. “In the bathroom. He locked himself in.”

“He wouldn’t let us in and asked for you,” Zabini continued with a quiet voice, fidgeting with his hands. “It’s … you’ll see. Just go in and help him.” He paused briefly. “Please.”

You nodded and reached for the door handle. Three deep breaths. One … two … three.

You pushed open the door and stepped in, closing it softly behind you. Looking around, everything looked perfectly ordinary. Three beds, three wardrobes, a table. Your gaze wandered over to the door that lead into the bathroom. Then you heard it – a sob. And another one. Someone was crying. He was crying. Your heart broke at the sound.

“Draco?”

 ***

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! <33 Also: did you notice Y/N stopped calling him “Malfoy” halfway through the chapter and switched to “Draco”? 

CHAPTER 11

“Choose Me Instead” Masterlist HP Masterlist

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#draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x gryffindor #draco malfoy x gryffindor!reader #draco #malfoy #draco malfoy #harry potter #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy fanfiction #hogwarts #slytherin #slytherin imagines #slytherin fanfiction #gryffindor #gryffindor imagines #astrids fics

[serenadeonacanoe]

Honestly, I'd piss him off on purpose. (Namjoon x OFC)

Pairing: Namjoon x Original Female Character

Genre/Warnings: Smut, Angst, Fluff, too tired to beta

Tags: Artist!Namjoon, Yoongi and Tae are the best flatmates, Enemies to Lovers I guess... more like brats to making out in the storage unit, OFC is an idiot.

Summary:

"Wow. Is that that grumpy artist behind you? Jesus. He really looks like a bit of a dick. And you are right. He really is hot..." Oh no. Speakerphone. Namjoon was standing behind me and was staring at me. Then at my phone. He let out a little laugh, then raised his hand to wave at Tae and Yoongi outside who were now also staring at him as if frozen, before turning around in unison. As if that would help. As if he couldn't see them. Or better even... couldn't hear them.

[...]

Mister Darcy has nothing on Kim Namjoon - that new and upcoming artist you probably already heard of (You haven't? How dare you? At least have the decency to pretend you have!). He is cold, serious, and rather good at making other people believe he is a prick. Especially Elizabeth Bennet - uh... Charlotte - is about to lose it because of him. Maybe in a good way. Man, I'd literally piss him off on purpose.

More chapters on AO3

CHAPTER 1

Even the sound of my own nails rhythmically tapping on the top of the counter was annoying me. To be fair, it didn't need much today to blow my fuze that had never been particularly long in the first place. But after a week consisting of being belittled by old white men and endless hours of unpaid overtime I about had it. Welcome to the art world. You know well before you enter that the hours are horrible and the job market is more than frustrating, but you love art and you have good organisational skills, you are resilient, charming when it counts and tend to romanticize things even when you know you shouldn't. It's too late to turn around now.

"That is why I don't use an agenda or notebook. If something is important enough for me to attend I simply won't forget. I know you youngsters are all about the bullet journaling and expressing yourself by mapping out your life but it really is just another way to procrastinate instead of getting to actual work." For a second I considered throwing my damn notebook in the buyer's face, but that probably wouldn't have helped my CV and the new job I would have to look for starting tomorrow. At least I should have screamed at him a little. Mainly, that I didn't care, that I was on my period and my shitty shower in the shitty flat i shared had broken and no dry shampoo in the world had fixed my hair this morning and that god damn it, how the hell was I supposed to remember every phone number, every call my boss had to take, every art handling transport I had organized if I couldn't write it down somewhere. Instead, I smiled. Died a little on the inside and complimented him on the gift of his exceptional memory and asked whether he would like another cup of coffee.

"What a dick." Samantha murmured, more to herself than me, after the guy had finally left, which made me snort under my breath. She usually didn't say much but when she did it was usually pure gold. In the end, it didn't matter that he was. Didn't matter that everyone at the gallery thought the art he had bought from us over the last couple of months had neither been smart nor impressive purchases. Mainly expensive. And flashy.

"Doesn't matter now." I said in a sigh after a quick glance at the clock. It was Friday night and we were about to close. Since it was my birthday on Monday I had taken two days off, about the longest break I had had this year and I was looking forward to being the lazy slob for a few days I was maybe always meant to be. In silence we answered a few last emails, tidied up the desks and counters so that potential buyers that would come in over the weekend wouldn't have to suspect anyone was actually working here. - A white desk. A huge Imac on it. That was all they needed to see, folders and pens and apparently especially agendas to be hidden away in drawers.

At five to eight I threw on my coat and Samantha just gave me a tired smile. Probably happy for me, just exhausted. "Have fun then? Don't get too wasted?" "Oh..." I said with a huge smug grin on my lips. "You have no idea... gonna take a bottle of Moët with me from the bar and drink it in my bathtub after eating a huge pepperoni pizza by myself and dancing to only the finest of 90s Euro Trash." I couldn't help it, apparently, I felt it necessary to give Sam a little demonstration, waving my arms up and down while swaying my hips in a way that I'd probably would not have if it hadn't been for a bit with an audience of a single person. Or maybe two?

A quiet scoff behind me and I quickly turned around, slowly lowering my arms, Sam biting her lower lip at the sight of me standing there like an idiot in front of HIM of all people.

Men didn't have to be old to annoy me. Or white. Yes, those were the ones that pissed me off most usually, but no one had managed to do so as much as Kim Namjoon recently. And now he was standing there, looking me up and down and stopping at my hair. The crazy too-much-dry-shampoo-because-the-shower-broke-hair. "Nice." He just commented and then looked over at Sam. "I'd like to take a last look before Sunday's opening if that is okay?" I stood there, my shoulders dropping, completely ignored.

"Uhm, actually, my babysitter has to leave in about an hour and I will have to be home before that." Samantha replied and I was impressed by how calm she stayed. "Of course." Namjoon said and gave her a slight smile. "Anyone else still around? Chris maybe?" Of course Chris hadn't been in today. It was Friday and unless important guests had announced themselves the owner of the gallery wasn't around on Fridays... "I am afraid not. But maybe Charlotte has a few minutes?" Well. Thanks. Thanks a lot. I felt a little betrayed. "Wouldn't want to keep anyone from their important Moët-Pizza-Dance Party plans." Namjoon replied before I could say a word. His voice once more dropping to a hushed, deep disapproval and his hands buried in the pockets of his rather expensive looking coat. Silence for a few moments and then he just walked off towards the room his exhibition had been set up all week. Showing without a further word that I would have to stay anyways if he wanted it that way.

"Well thank you for pushing me under the bus like that. Really appreciate it." "I am so sorry. But I was serious, I can't lose this babysitter. She got Jamie to eat vegetables. VEGETABLES!" Samantha suddenly seemed in a rush, grabbing her jacket and purse and showering me in promises she would make it up to me. Even though we both knew that wouldn't happen and wasn't necessary. Suddenly having to stay longer was normal. I just hated that it had to be today. And because of him.

I heard the door close behind Sam and I stood there for a second before putting my bag down again. Usually, I would have followed the artist, asking if I could somehow help, but nahhh... my ego was bruised up enough now, especially remembering the little dance. I closed my eyes. Fucking hated the guy. Always had. Well, not quite. I had thought he was cool for about five minutes when he had come in the first time. We had heard about him for quite a few months before, I think I had even seen pictures of him at some point, but those were nothing compared to him in real life. He came in all cheekbones and sharp chin and an all grey outfit, quick pace, observant gaze. Incredibly hot. He had also completely ignored me.

That's how it had started - a bruised ego. He couldn't know that it was my weak spot. Having studied art and its management and now feeling like a better secretary at times, when my colleagues and I were doing all the behind the scenes work while Chris worked very little hours and ended up with all the money and recognition. I was aware this wasn't the only field of work where this was the case, but it still frustrated me... I had imagined my life in the last years of my 20s to be a bit more glamorous than living in a tiny apartment on the outskirts of the city... spending my Friday night waiting for some rude artist dude to leave so I could lock up.

But what I perhaps hated most about him... was that I admired him. - Purely for his art. Really. Even the fact that he kept acting as if I wasn't around every time he came in didn't mean I couldn't admit that. At least to myself. The stories behind his huge colleagues were clever and thought through, but even without context, the pure aesthetics were mesmerizing. It was the kind of art that touched something deep inside of you and standing in front of it I always had a hundred questions. Whenever he brought in a new piece I was the first one to sneak a peek in the back rooms before it was hung.

"I don't get why you have such a problem with him. He is just... quiet. I think he might even be shy... stop being so sensitive and just ask him out already." I had almost strangled Sam for that comment a couple of weeks back. Stop being so sensitive. What did that even mean? Comments like that made me want to cry and scream at the same time, which probably would have been perceived as even more sensitive, but when had insensitivity become something to strive for? I had only kept quiet because I liked Sam and I knew what she had tried to say. At least I thought so. That I might have given less of a shit if I hadn't been rather attracted to Namjoon. Even though I had never mentioned it, she just knew. She knew if I didn't care about something I didn't waste my time on it. But if something made me angry or upset there was usually more to it. I hated that she could read me that easily. But he was still a dick and I still wanted to go home.

He took his sweet time. After an hour I walked up to him, a little speech prepared in my head about how he could come back first thing tomorrow. But when he turned around he just raised a hand between us to keep me from interrupting and turned away again. I hadn't seen that he was on the phone. "No, it's nothing, just one of the gallery employees." I heard him say and okay... if I wasn't about to explode before I was now. I stood there for a minute, fuming, and then simply walked back to the office area, my hand shaking when I started turning off the gallery lights one by one. It wasn't as satisfying as I had hoped but still felt good. Two minutes later the only lights still on were the one above my head and the one in front of the door. I would at least give him a clear direction where to head, he seemed to need it.

When Namjoon appeared out of one of the dark corners he looked even more annoyed than usual. Looking my direction through squinting eyes and his tongue pushing against the inside of his cheek. "Seriously?" he yelled my way and almost walked into one of the little flyer shelves. Wasn't the first time I had seen that happen to him though so maybe that had nothing to do with the light.

I felt oddly triumphant. By the time I had put on my coat and turned off the remaining lights, ready to finally lock up, Namjoon had almost found his way, standing in the open door, still on his phone. A little groan from my side when he didn't even notice that I was standing behind me went by unnoticed. Or simply ignored. But instead of the appropriate clearing of the throat or the maybe less polite squeezing past him, I just put my hands on his back and gently pushed him forward a bit, until his feet hit the pavement and he turned around. Dropping his hand with the phone in it, for a second he looked like he wanted to push back. Or trample me.

"Okay, what the hell is your problem, Charlotte?" His voice was hoarse. His eyes dark. God, he was hot. I hated him so much. "You." I simply replied and stared at him for a second, then turned around and locked the two locks on the door before stepping over to the alarm system. I couldn't help feeling smug because apparently, he knew my name. I imagined him staring at the back of my head because he was flustered, but couldn't be sure. All I knew was that when I turned around again a minute later he was still standing there, his arms crossed in front of his chest, his lips pressed together forming a straight line and watching me.

"Do you always act like that at work around people who could get you into trouble?" He was right, he could get me into trouble. But I was too fired up now, my heart racing. "Is that a threat?" "An observation." "Only around the ones I don't like." "Cool." "Great." "Enjoy the dance party. Sounds shit."

And with those words he had turned around, coat flying open in the wind, unfortunately making him look really cool as he walked away and I ABSOLUTELY HATED HIM. I kept my mouth shut and just walked off in the other direction, realizing minutes later that my car was parked the other way, but I kept walking for a while before I finally turned around. It took a while to calm down and only cuddling up to my cat on the couch to trash tv finally did the job. But by then I had realized something I wasn't sure I liked too much. Yeah, I thought he was a prick. And yeah I should have just played it cool. Would have been much smarted in many regards. But I also had somewhat enjoyed myself in the most fucked up way.

Seeing that stern look, that intense posture as he was towering over me... man, I'd literally piss him off on purpose.

More chapters on AO3

#namjoon fanfic #bts fanfic #namjoon x reader #namjoon smut #namjoon angst #namjoon fluff #artist!namjoon

[aellynera]

The Best Years of Your Life (Reeves x Reader)

THE BEST YEARS OF YOUR LIFE

(hey hey, this is my other submission for @wasicskosgirl and her 800 follower celebration! and yes, you read that right - it’s REEVES. i had a lot of fun writing it and i hope you enjoy reading it! CONGRATS Amanda!!)

Word Count: um like 6200ish oops it was supposed to be a blurb

Summary: They say the best years of your life happen in high school, but what do they know?

Warnings: Some language. Female reader implied but no pronouns/description. Teenage angst. Adult wistfulness. Mostly fluffy tho. No promises about proofreading. Frog murder. 

with the prompt - “Like what you see?”

It all started back in high school. Sometimes you wonder how often people say that, and if it’s really true or they’re just falsely remembering how things happened because high school is supposed to be the best four years of your life.

But in this case, it’s true. Because high school is when you met Reeves.

Sophomore Year. High School. A Friday. 

It was the third day of sophomore year, fourth period on a Friday morning, your last before the lunch break. Biology class was maybe the one you were least looking forward to, not exclusively because of the required frog dissection, but pretty damn close. Gross. And you never understood why the school year didn’t just start on a Monday, but you were new here in San Diego. Maybe they just did things differently.

It was bad enough being the new kid. It was worse when you walked into class halfway through the lecture, even if it wasn’t your fault. The timing of the move was weird, and you’d spent most of the first two days, and this morning, doing placement tests and talking to your counselor. 

And now you were being called out in front of the entire class.

“Ah, there you are,” your teacher announced as you walked in the door. “Everyone, this is our new student, please make them feel welcome. You can sit over there.”

Your eyes followed as she motioned to the empty seat at the lab table in the back of the room. Suddenly you weren’t sure if your face felt hot because of embarrassment or because of the boy in the other chair.

Dark, curly hair cut close on the sides but longer on the top. Deep brown eyes framed by long, long lashes. Full, plush lips curling up into his cheek on one side. A nose that, okay, maybe might be a bit oversized but for some reason worked on his handsome face and--

Well, shit. Definitely not the embarrassment.

You shuffled your way to your seat and slid into it with your head down. A few students watched you curiously but soon turned their attention back to the lesson. You tried your best to focus on what was going on, to not look to your left at the distraction next to you.

You weren’t very successful.

By now you thought you’d sneaked enough covert glances to know that we was wearing a leather jacket, had a small diamond stud earring in his left ear, a bunch of silver-studded brown suede wrap bracelets around both wrists, a silver ring on his right index finger, and oddly precise handwriting as he took notes. In between relevant facts the teacher was sharing, he was doodling tiny music notes in the margins of his notebook.

And he totally caught you looking.

“Like what you see?” he leaned over and whispered.

Your mouth felt drier than the Sahara but also somehow so moist you were afraid you might have actually drooled on yourself. You should have opened your mouth to respond but your brain refused to make the connection. Probably for the best.

At least, at first. When it finally caught up to you, the only response your brain could provide was, “Maybe?”

Now would be the perfect time for the floor to swallow you whole.

He just winked at you and his attention went back to the doodles around his notes.

You shifted your gaze back to your own notebook, but you don’t know if anything else of importance was said, and don’t remember writing anything down. The bell ringing sharply pulled you back to reality and you hastily shoved your books in your backpack, ready to escape.

Just as you were about to leave, a voice called out. “Hey, sorry about earlier. If I freaked you out or anything.”

You looked up. He was smiling at you, a little shyly. You bit your lip, your brain and mouth still refusing to connect.

He stuck his hand out. “I’m Reeves. You’re new here?”

“Um…” you smacked yourself internally. This was ridiculous, you weren’t really shy, you knew how to have a conversation, he was just introducing himself. You were going to have a serious conversation with your brain later about proper communication techniques.

It felt like hours had passed, but you finally pulled yourself together enough to respond. “Yeah. My- my dad got transferred for work, we moved here like a week ago. He literally dragged the family across the country. I’m originally from New York City.”

His eyes lit up. “Oh, cool! I always wanted to go to New York City!”

You found yourself smiling back.

“Do you...wanna sit with me at lunch?” he asked, tilting his head to the side. “Maybe you could tell me a little about the city? And...about you, since we’re gonna have to commit heinous acts of violence on an amphibian together? I’d like to know who’s wielding a scalpel next to me.”

The giggle that escaped your throat could not be contained. This boy - Reeves - was adorable. “Oh. Okay, yeah. I’d really like that.”

The Present.

Poor Lenny the Frog never stood a chance. Then again, neither did you.

To be fair, Lenny was already dead when you and Reeves got your hands on him. Well, when you got your hands on him, because for the full first half of that specific class period, Reeves refused to touch him and nearly turned as green as Lenny once was. That’s when he insisted on naming your cadaver, because somehow giving it a name made it easier to deal with.

You were pretty sure Reeves was nuts.

By the middle of sophomore year, you were dead too, but not for the same reasons.

By the middle of sophomore year, you weren’t sure how you were still alive, because every time he looked over at you and gave you a sly smile during class, gave you that look, you felt your heart go taut and you forgot how to breathe and certainly, rightfully, should have been dead.

Your friend Alexis stuck her head into your bathroom. “Hey, we’re just waiting on Vanessa, and then we’re good to go. Drinks first? The show doesn’t start until 8 so we have time.”

You glanced up from your makeup and nodded. “Yeah, that sounds good. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

Alexis grinned. “Aaaaaah I’m so glad you agreed to go out tonight! It’s gonna be so much fun!”

“Oh, it’s gonna be something,” you muttered, going back to your eyeliner.

Alexis had been the first one to see the concert announcement about a week ago. A benefit show at one of the clubs down in Greenwich Village, some punk revival thing (for charity) with a bunch of different singers and musicians. Not normally your scene, but Alexis scanned through the names and suddenly remembered you’d known Reeves in high school. You said yes, he was in your class, and you’d been lab partners once. Vanessa squealed in excitement and Alexis announced you were going to the show. There was never any actual agreement.

Because of course Reeves was going to be there. And of course, you had to be too.

Junior Year. The Parking Lot. A Tuesday.

“I’m just saying, it was a ridiculous foul, and it should never have been called,” Reeves groused as you walked out of the gym.

“We also should have made like twenty more of our own foul shots,” you pointed out.

The Lake Howell Silverhawks had fallen to their arch-rivals in a somewhat glorious fashion. You didn’t even like basketball that much. But that didn’t really matter. The games were just an excuse to go out for burgers before and hang out with your friends during.

It was definitely an excuse to hang out with Reeves.

Junior year, you were both disappointed to find you didn’t have any classes together, but you still almost always ate lunch together. He’d come over to your house to study during the week and sometimes just to chill out on the weekends. Over the past year, he’d shown you all around the city and taken you to his favorite places. You told him all about New York, how you missed it and one day you’d go back, and all the famous sites and which ones were tourist traps that he was only allowed to visit the very first time and then never again.

You spent so much time together, even your mother liked to tease you about why he wasn’t your boyfriend.

It took a while for you to find the words to tell her it was because he was someone else’s.

As much as you liked to pretend she didn’t change anything, Randie Rustenberg changed everything. It was gradual, like a creeping vine of ivy, and she slowly took him over. There was no malice; it was just one of those things that happened. Reeves spent less time with you, his best friend, and more time with Randie, his girlfriend.

The girlfriend you desperately wished was you, because ever since that first biology class you’d had the biggest, stupidest crush on him.

Eventually you had a boyfriend of your own. Theo was a nice guy, he really was. Polite, friendly, had a good sense of humor, liked your family. And your family loved him. Your mother was so happy that you had a boyfriend, she seemed to forget to ask how Reeves was and if you’d seen him lately.

Of course you saw him. You saw him every day, in the cafeteria, at his locker, passing by in the halls. Sometimes you could find him playing the grand piano on the stage in the empty auditorium. Yes, if your mother bothered to ask, you saw Reeves all the time. Now it was just always with her.

Except this week. It was a break of sorts, no classes, just some sports and other school activities. Randie was on some trip with her parents for some kind of church function, and Theo was fishing with his dad on some lake up north. He’d told you where, but you honestly couldn’t be bothered to recall. So when a bunch of your friends and a bunch of his friends all said everyone was going to the basketball game, there was no debate.

As if there was any way you’d say no.

Sometime during the game, your friends wandered off to the snack bar and never ventured back. His friends started a game of hacky-sack under the bleachers. And you found yourself pretending to understand all the finer points about hoops strategy, cheering and yelling along with Reeves and having a great time, just like you used to.

“Where’d you park?” he asked as you left the gym and headed out into the sea of cars. You vaguely pointed in the direction of yours and he grinned. “Oh, good, I’m that way too. Come on, I’ll walk you.”

The faint glow emitted by the lampposts in the parking lot bounced off his curls and his eyes, when you could catch a glimpse, were bright beneath them.

As if there was any way you’d say no.

The walk wasn’t very far, but it felt like it was over in a second. You hadn’t said anything on the way, just soaked in the comfort of walking next to him as he kept commenting on the game.

He was waving his hands everywhere, looking at them as he talked as if his hand motions would make things make any more sense to you, in the middle of saying something about your center and how they needed to get better about blocking out when you finally spoke.

“Oh, shit.”

Reeves looked up at you. “What, you don’t agree?”

You dropped your bag on the ground and rolled your eyes. “No, my car is locked and I left my keys inside.” You pointed to the passenger seat. Your keys stared back at you derisively.

You both stared back at them for a moment, then he grinned. “Hang on, I got you.” He held up one finger and trotted off to his car, coming back a minute later with something in his hand. “This should take care of it.”

You took a step back. “Reeves? Um. Okay, why do you have a coat hanger in your car.”

He rolled his eyes back at you. “For emergencies, duh.” He quickly twisted the hanger into a hook shape and went to your passenger side window.

“And why do you know how to break into a car with said coat hanger?”

“Like I told you,” his tongue poked out between his teeth as he worked, “for emergencies. You think I haven’t locked my own keys in my car once or six times?”

“Did Randie teach you how to do this?” The words were out of your mouth before you could think. She probably had. She might have been churchy when required, but she was also responsible for about half of Reeves’s stints in detention (the other half just being him making the wrong joke at the wrong time and pissing a teacher off.)

Thank god he didn’t seem to hear you as he kept working at the lock. Finally you heard a *click* and he pumped a fist into the air with a little “yessss!”

And then you’re not really sure what happened. You bent down to pick up your bag and then you were standing up and Reeves’s face was literally about three inches away from yours and for the eight thousandth time since you’d know him, you forgot how to breathe.

Neither of you said anything for what felt like days. You just stared at each other under the dim halo of the parking lot lights.

“Here you go.” He took your hand and dropped your keys into it.

“Thanks,” you whispered.

“Like what you see?” the corners of his mouth quirked up, just the slightest little bit.

“...Maybe.”

And the staring recommenced. Were you two getting closer? Physically closer, you meant, of course you were close, you’d always been close. Well, at one time you were really close but then Randie Restenberg happened and it wasn’t fair that she got to know what those lips felt like and did he always smell this good or--

“Yo, Reeves!” A pickup truck full of guys skidded to a stop behind your car and one of his friends - Jake? Jack? you barely remembered your own name right now - stuck his head out the window. “Fight to the death ping pong tourney at Matt’s house! You in?”

Reeves bit his lip and closed his eyes for a second before he pulled back with a soft “I’m sorry” before turning to his friends. “Um, yeah, sure. Sounds brutal. I’ll meet you there.” 

The pickup sped off, tires screeching out of the parking lot. Reeves turned back to you, but you’d already gotten into your now unlocked car and started the engine.

You rolled down the window a fraction and gave him a weak smile. “Hey, um. Thanks for saving my butt. Now go kick theirs at ping pong, yeah?” Your face felt so hot, and for once you were grateful for the dim lights in the lot.

“You could, um, come along if- if you want.”

“Nah, I’m...I’m tired, I’m just gonna...um, head home. But I’ll see you tomorrow maybe?”

Reeves looked like he was about to say something else, but he didn’t. He just stepped onto the curb in front of your car, smiled, and raised his hand in a little wave as he watched you drive off.

The Present.

A series of shrieks and the slamming of the door told you Vanessa had finally arrived. It sounded like they were jumping up and down on the tile just inside your front door, which was ridiculous since you’d all just seen each other the day before. But typical.

You smoothed a pinkie under your eye, checked your makeup one final time, and went into the living room.

“Oh, you look hot,” Vanessa gushed. She grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and plopped down on your couch. “Who are you trying to impress tonight?”

“Reeves, of course,” Alexis laughed, leaning on the kitchen counter. She sorted anything she might need from her big purse into a little evening bag as she talked. “You know we go to all his shows. And you know they went to high school together.”

You snorted. “That was a long time ago. I’m not even sure he’d remember me.”

Vanessa waggled her eyebrows. “You’re probably right, No offense, honey, but no one was that hot back in high school.”

He was, your brain supplied. Very helpful. You smiled wanly.

Vanessa continued. “But you were friends, right? You’ve never really talked about it. God, it must be so cool now to think that you were friends with Reeves back when he was an awkward high school teenager.”

“Reeves was never awkward,” you laugh. “It was kind of unfair.”

“But you totally had a crush on him,” Alexis offered.

Had? What do you mean, had? Oh my god, shut up, brain.

A pillow flew in your direction and you ducked as Vanessa giggled and Alexis rolled her eyes. “Come on, tell us something about him,” Vanessa goaded. “Wait. Was he, like, your prom date? That’s your secret! You totally went to prom with Reeves and you never told us!”

Senior Year. Prom. A Saturday.

The night was not supposed to go this way.

It was supposed to be limousines and corsages and dinner with dates and friends. It was supposed to be endless pictures while your mother told you how gorgeous you looked and how handsome he was and your father gave a thinly-veiled shovel talk about how he knew what happens on prom night and what would really happen if that actually happened. It was supposed to be punch and cookies and balloons. It was supposed to be dancing closer than the chaperones were comfortable with and kissing with tongue when they weren’t looking.

It was supposed to be the best night of your life. It was supposed to be fun.

Nowhere in your weeks of dreaming of this night did it involve sitting on a bench in the girls’ locker room, knees pulled up to your chest, while the party carried on in the gym just beyond.

It definitely didn’t involve crying.

The bass beats of the deejay and the harmony of laughter temporarily got louder as the locker room door opened, and then faded back into a muted thumping as the door closed again a second later. You could hear footsteps headed in your direction but before you could unfold yourself and wipe your tears away, a familiar voice called out.

“Hey, there you are!”

Being able to find the words to describe how he looked in his tux, his curls slightly tamed by some gel, the blue rose (of course it would be an off color, why would he pick something standard?) pinned to his lapel, his lopsided grin… Finding the words was nearly impossible.

Of course he would show up now. Because your night wasn’t already crappy enough and half the reason you were sitting there weeping instead of out there dancing was standing right in front of you.

You realized that wasn’t fair. It was probably more like, twenty-five percent of the reason, and it wasn’t his fault. But that didn’t make it any better.

“Why are you in the girls’ locker room, Reeves?” you sniffled.

He furrowed his eyebrows and his nose scrunched up in concern as he took in your mascara-streaked cheeks and puffy red eyes. “One of your friends said you came in here like half an hour ago and nobody’s seen you since. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m fine.”

“Clearly not.” He sat down next to you. “Wanna talk about it?”

A deep, shaky sign left your chest. You didn’t really want to talk about how, earlier in the evening, you’d excused yourself to use the restroom and come back to the gym to find Theo dancing with...you didn’t remember her name, nor did you care. You didn’t mind that he was dancing with another girl, in theory, but it was another matter entirely when his hands were on her ass and she was sucking a deep purple mark into his neck. And he was laughing. 

A short, vicious argument ensued in the coat room after you’d cut in and dragged him off by the elbow. And it turned out that he’d been seeing whats-her-name for months, somehow, behind your back while pretending that everything was perfect with you. When he was supposedly visiting his grandparents? He was with her. When he had to work an extra shift? He was with her. When he got off the phone with you, saying he needed to get to bed early? He was calling her.

Prom wasn’t supposed to involve a very public break-up.

And things didn’t get any better when, deciding you needed something to drink, you went back into the gym and immediately saw Reeves and Randie, dancing cheek to cheek, arms snugly wrapped around each other as a soft, romantic song wafted through the air. Because of course he was with her. She was his girlfriend and Reeves wasn’t a detestable cheating asshole.

There was always another her.

You couldn’t handle it.

So you took off to somewhere almost guaranteed to be empty. You figured the locker room wasn’t really the kind of place kids would want to make out, and you were right. It was blessedly empty. Until now.

But you couldn’t tell him the second part, so you just went with the first. His eyes got wide as you blubbered through the sordid details of Theo being a complete and utter twat. Another quivery sob half-burst from you and Reeves got up. He grabbed a few paper towels from the dispenser and handed them to you as he sat back down.

“Thanks,” you hiccuped.

“I never liked him,” Reeves announced.

You found yourself choking on a huff of air. “What? Yes you did! Everybody loved him. That’s what makes it extra shitty.”

“Did you?”

“What?”

Reeves cocked his head and looked at you with an expression you couldn’t quite place. “Did you love him?”

Your mouth opened and closed but nothing came out. Why did you always seem to forget how to make words when Reeves asked you questions?

“What?”

He shrugged. “Everyone else loved him. Did you?”

You used every last ounce of willpower you had to not jump up on that bench and shout that of course you didn’t love Theo, you idiot, because I love you.

That would not make this night any easier.

The next thing you knew, Reeves put an arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his chest, hugging you soundly. He rested his cheek on the top of your head. “Doesn’t matter. You’re better off without him.”

You dabbed at your eyes. Nope, still couldn’t make words.

Minutes, hours, days. You had no idea how long you stayed like that, pressed to him and feeling him breathe beneath you. You no longer had any idea how long it had even been since everything crashed around you and he’d come to try and help you pick up the pieces. You just listened to his heartbeat, strong and steady, as the muffled music and joyful shouts of classmates went on past the closed door.

Finally he spoke again. “Hey, you wanna get one of those complimentary pictures?”

“What?” Oh, great. You were finally able to answer his question but you could still only come up with that one word? Stupid brain.

“Well, I…” he sat up straight and, after the briefest look into your eyes, he glanced away. Was he blushing? You weren’t sure. “I always kind of...I kind of thought we’d have a prom picture together. I mean, I just figured, y’know, we’d go with a bunch of friends, but I always hoped I’d get a picture with my best friend.”

The sniffles were back in an instant. Damn him. “Reeves, I...you really want to get a picture now? I look horrible, I can’t get a picture taken like this!”

He took the paper towel from your hand and gently dabbed at your cheeks. “You couldn’t look horrible if you tried. Come on, it’ll be fun. And just think how excited your mom will be when she gets a copy of it.”

Despite your best efforts, you had to laugh. “Okay.”

You headed to the photo area after you washed your face, Reeves helped you wipe off the stray streaks of mascara, and you reapplied just a bit of makeup to make yourself feel better. You were never sure what Reeves said to the photographer before the shots, but he seemed quite happy to take multiples. Reeves stayed pressed against your back with his arms down around your waist, hands clasped together in front of you, for each and every one.

At some point between the second and third shot, he leaned just a little closer into you and you suddenly felt his breath against your ear. “Like what you see?”

For maybe the first time that entire night, your face broke into a genuine smile. “Maybe.”

For a few minutes, your night was absolutely perfect.

The Present.

It was the greatest date that never was.

“No, Reeves was not my prom date,” you told your friends with a shake of your head.

You left out most of the other details, partly because you didn’t want to answer eight hundred questions from Vanessa and partly because, well, you just wanted those moments for yourself.

After the pictures, Reeves had asked if you would like to dance. Until then you didn’t realize it was possible for eyebrows to shoot that far up a person’s forehead, but yours were up for the challenge. You’d mumbled something about if Randie would mind, because you were sure she absolutely would, but he brushed it off. Randie had gone off with her friends when he came to find you, and he really wanted to dance with you, just one dance with his frog murder accomplice. And he said that with a straight face and a twinkle in his eye and there was no way you could refuse.

As if there was any way you’d say no.

One dance turned into two, and then several, until the girlfriend in question finally did show back up and Reeves was pulled away, leaving you with a soft smile and a mouthed “sorry”.

Definitely the greatest never-date.

After prom, life returned to what vaguely resembled normal. Your love life sucked and Reeves still had a girlfriend that wasn’t you, and you didn’t see him much. To be fair, the end of senior year and graduation did creep up pretty fast so there wasn’t a lot of time anyway. Graduation was there before you knew it; he cheered for you and you cheered for him as you each walked across the stage. You made brief appearances at each others’ graduation parties and talked a bit and then, once again before you knew what happened next, it was time to leave for college.

You went back to New York. Reeves stayed on the west coast.

And over the years, like so many other people before you and after you, you just fell out of touch.

“And anyway,” you asserted, “we were just kind of friends. Yeah, like I told Alexis before, we were lab partners sophomore year, and we hung out sometimes, but that was it. Really.”

Alexis snorted and Vanessa narrowed her eyes. “Mmmhmm.”

You threw the pillow back at her. “Mmmhmm.”

“All right, you two,” Alexis chided. “Come on, let’s get going.”

Somehow, you managed to get down to Greenwich Village without further interrogation and minimal shenanigans.

The Present. One Hour Later. Another Saturday Night.

The bar inside the club was pretty packed. Granted, it was a Saturday night down in The Village, so it wasn’t too uncommon, but you were honestly surprised that this many people showed up for a punk retrospective.

There were a few other relatively big-name acts you recognized on the bill, and a fair number of people were wearing t-shirts with Reeves’s most recent album cover on the front. There were even a few that had shirts with his face on it, which was frankly kind of weird.

“Looks like you’re not his only number one fan,” Vanessa smirked.

“I just enjoy his music,” you said off-handedly as you tried to flag down a bartender. “But anyway, tonight isn’t even about him. We’re just here to support charity, right?”

Alexis pretended to agree with you. “Right.”

You glared at both of them before turning your attention back to the bar. Yes, you came to every one of his shows in the area. When you had time. When you could take the night off. When you could rearrange your schedule and switch shifts at the last minute and promise favors to be able to attend them. When you maybe once or twice just called out sick because nothing else worked. So what.

They were really starting to get on your nerves. 

The bartender finally noticed you and took your order, and you looked around the club again while you waited.

Lots of people, ranging from just-allowed-to-buy-booze to mid-sixties businessmen. A few folks that looked to currently be in their golden years but were clearly once punks in their prime. Many people in black and chains and mohawks and neon hair and piercings, to the point where you honestly couldn’t tell who was a performer and who was a patron.

The one person you were looking for was the one that you couldn’t pick out of the crowd.

“He’s gotta be here somewhere!” Vanessa’s voice shouted from somewhere behind your shoulder.

“Vanessa, you’re getting a little weird about this,” you called back as you grabbed your drink and turned around.

“Like what you see?”

Eyes wide and mouth slightly hanging open, you almost dropped your full glass.

Vaguely, nearby, you heard the sound of glass shattering and shot a glance to your left. Alexis really had dropped her drink, and Vanessa was clutching onto her arm for dear life. She was holding her glass at a slightly odd angle and the contents were dripping onto one of her shoes.

The crowd silently pulsed backwards as one, clearing out around the four of you for a respectable distance. Several people watched curiously; surprisingly, they just stood back and stared instead of trying to get involved.

Reason Number One why you really couldn’t blame them: Reeves stood there, right in front of you. Literally less than two feet away, looking right at you. His mouth pulled up into his familiar lopsided grin, his hair still dark but shot through with strands of silver, curly on the top and shorter on the sides. His nose with the little dent, perfect on his face under those dark, luminous brown eyes and...holy shit, was he wearing eyeliner? He was wearing eyeliner.

Reason Number Two why you really couldn’t blame them: Leather pants. Under his old, faded t-shirt and black leather jacket (you were used to seeing him in brown, but you had to admit the black looked good) he was wearing leather pants.

Reason Number Three why you really couldn’t blame them: Quite simply, Reeves was standing in the middle of a bar in New York City and he was talking to you.

You blinked once, then twice. You may have blinked more times but all you could think about was the fact that, after all these years, your brain still couldn’t make words when Reeves asked you a question.

That same old question.

Suddenly you were grinning back, completely ignoring your friends and their dumbfounded squawking and sputtering next to you. You were smiling because even though your brain couldn’t make full sentences of words, it could pull one particular word out of the void and let it come out past your lips.

“Maybe.”

Reeves grinned fully now, his eyes lighting up and the crinkles at the corners deepening.

Someone - maybe Vanessa, maybe a total stranger, you couldn’t be sure - might have swooned from the sidelines.

“Always told you I wanted to come to New York,” he said.

“Always told you I’d go back.”

And the next thing you knew, the next thing that made any sense anywhere in your mind, was that Reeves had stepped forward, wrapped his arms around you, and placed the softest, sweetest, most heart-achingly gentle kiss on your lips.

You pulled away in a daze, felt the heat rising in your cheeks, as you heard a muffled choking sound halfway behind you. Definitely Vanessa.

Alexis and Vanessa’s eyes, already bugging out of their faces, nearly fell out of their sockets when Reeves turned to address them.

“Hey, ladies. I’ll come talk to you after the show, but for now, I just need to borrow your friend for a few minutes, okay?”

There were somehow still more bizarre, mostly inhuman noises that came out of your friends and even later, when they’d deny ever acting like that in front of a famous rock star (and rolled their eyes at you when you corrected them that he was a musician, not a rock star), it wouldn’t matter because you weren’t paying a single bit of attention to them them anyway.

You only had eyes for one person.

He took your hand and pulled you past the bar, into a little room in the back; the office, presumably. The second you were both inside, he wrapped his arms around your waist and looked you in the eyes. He just stared for a few minutes, or maybe hours, you weren’t sure.

It really didn’t matter.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to do that?” he whispered.

“Third day of school, fourth period biology class, sophomore year?”

Reeves smiled softly. “The second you walked in that door.”

“Why didn’t you?” you tilted your head to look at him. Okay, to gaze into his eyes. You tilted your head to gaze into his eyes and your subconscious hoped to any gods that would listen that you did not have actual hearts or stars in your pupils.

Not that it really mattered.

His arms never left you but he gave a little shrug. “Never seemed to be the right time. And then I had a girlfriend.”

“Yeah,” you laughed. “And I ended up with that lame excuse for a boyfriend. But do you know how long I’ve wanted you to do that?”

“When you couldn’t stop staring at me when you sat down at the lab table next to me?”

“Hmmm, maybe. But definitely when you told the teacher we had to have a funeral for Lenny.”

“Hey, Lenny was a fuckin’ hero,” Reeves batted his eyes at you innocently. “He performed a brave and great service to his country.”

“I am oddly happy you’re still an idiot,” you giggled.

“I’m ecstatic that you kept coming to all my shows in the city.”

You pulled back slightly and looked at the ceiling. “You noticed?”

Reeves gave you that look. That look he always gave you, when you were teenagers, when you said something either completely ridiculous or completely profound. That look he gave you when he thought you might not be looking, even though you were always looking. That look that said he always had your back and you were his best friend. That look that you thought you’d be lucky to see one more time but probably never would.

That look.

“Of course I noticed. I thought about having security make you stay back, but that’s just...no. You always looked happy, and I don’t know...I just didn’t want to intrude, I guess? Just always wondered why you never stuck around after the shows, never stayed to talk to me, never came knocking on the dressing room door.”

You thought about that for a minute. You really did try, but you couldn’t come up with a decent answer. You were happy. Just seeing him was enough, you told yourself. Just hearing him sing was enough, just being in the same room with him, just being near. Just like it was back in high school.

Only it wasn’t high school anymore, and now that he’d finally, finally - after years of would’ve and should’ve and maybes - kissed you, you knew enough wasn’t going to be, well, enough.

So that’s what you told him.

And Reeves pulled you close, leaned in closer, and kissed you again.

You pulled apart, breathless again, and rested your foreheads together.

After minutes, or maybe days, or maybe hours, and definitely years - it didn’t really matter - Reeves was there. You were there. And for once, you were really there together.

“Like what you see?”

“...definitely.”

The Future. Any Day. Every Day.

You always thought, and your friends always said, that the best years of your life happened in high school. And to a certain extent, that was true and you believed in that notion for a very long time.

But ever since that night, that one glorious night in a Manhattan bar, you realized you were wrong.

The best years of your life were still happening.

~end~

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Living Hell ~ MYG [Request]

↬↬↬Word Count: 4.2K

↬↬↬Genre: Angst, fluffy ending

↬↬↬Pairing: Min Yoongi X Gender Neutral Reader

The internship of a lifetime is what everyone was calling it but you called it your living hell, every day was a whole new way for Min Yoongi to torture you and make you want to quit doing the things you loved but you kept pushing on despite the feeling of wanting to give up. You weren't going to let someone push you aside like that even if it was every day. 

"Y/n!" You looked up from your pad of paper in front of your face to see Namjoon and Yoongi walking towards you, Namjoon had a smile on his face as he walked towards you questioning you on how your song was coming along. Every week BigHit set a task for the winners of the internship to work on songs and present them at the end of the week, 

"Really well," You kept it brief since Yoongi was giving you a death glare that you're sure would kill you given half of the chance but then again you were sure Yoongi would kill you given half the chance. The first time you met him you were sure it was just because you were new to the team and he wasn't sure on you but as time passed and he grew colder to you the more you realised he actually just hated you. 

"Did you hear me?" Namjoon questioned waving his hand in front of your face, you were staring off down into the hallway as though no one had been standing right in front of you. 

"Stupid little child," Yoongi mumbled pushing past you and walking towards his studio, you looked at Namjoon. 

"Sorry I was just thinking of some lyrics." You lied trying to pretend you hadn't heard Yoongi mumbling under his breath, it was something you were used to by now. 

"They have a competition coming up in a few days, they're going to select a few of you to do some work within a limited amount of time. I'm not supposed to tell you but I figured you could use the heads up." You thanked him while he walked off to his own studio, you stayed in the hall jotting down some lyrics to a song you'd been working on in the back of your notebook. Nothing that was ready to be heard yet but it was there if you ever needed something to work on.

"Y/n?! Are you done?" You glanced over at Yoongi who was standing with his head in the door of his studio, 

"Yes." You whispered walking over to him to see what he wanted this time, 

"Good. I need you to go and get all this for me, you'll be able to find it easily enough." He handed you a sheet of paper with a bunch of useless items on it, it looked like he was just trying to send you on a wild goose chase. 

"Why can't you do this yourself-"

"I'd be nicer to me if I were you, I'm the one that's going to be judging your work next week." He licked his bottom lip as he watched you stand up straight at the mention of him being one of the judges for the competition, 

"Then you understand that I need to work on my own things instead of yours..." You were doing your best to be kind to him, you'd been brought up to be kind to everyone you met. Treat people the way that you wished to be treated but Min-Fucking-Yoongi made that extraordinarily difficult for you to be nice to him with everything he was putting you through. 

Since day one he'd made it clear he had a strong dislike for you but you had no idea why. You'd been nothing but kind to everyone that worked in BigHit and Yoongi had been one of your inspirations so it was difficult to have someone you'd idolised for so long hate you without truly knowing who you were. 

"Listen, if you want to make it in this industry I suggest you do what I ask of you." He pushed the piece of paper into your chest and you hurried out of his studio, going to get your car keys from the small office you had been assigned on your first day.

"I'm sure you're all aware by now that there is a competition coming up. This will be the final test for the interns." Bang PD was speaking clearly as he looked over everyone in the room, all of the interns were sitting in front of the room watching him closely and listening for what they had to do. 

"I expect to see work from each of you by next week. People will be leaving us so let this be a warning if your work is anything less than what we expect you'll be forced to leave and your contract will be terminated with us." Swallowing the lump in your throat you wrote down what he was expecting from you all, the types of songs he wanted and how many. You were sure if you put your mind to it you'd be able to get everything he wanted from you and more, the thought of losing this opportunity physically hurt your chest when you'd done nothing but work towards it for years. It had been your dream since you could remember to work with music and BigHit was one of the leading companies that you'd wanted since you were 16. Nothing was going to stop you from working hard to keep this job.

A week passed and you'd tortured yourself trying to keep up with everything, Yoongi had you running around after him like you were his own personal maid. Treating you like a coffee maid instead of a producer who was working within the same industry as him. The only time you got to work on your own music was when it was late into the night and you were locked up in your studio, forcing yourself to stay awake until the unholy hours just to get at least one song done. You were ahead of an intern you knew but you didn't feel it was enough.

Today you were supposed to be working on the final song that would make your work stand out, a song about hardship and pushing through everything someone was throwing at you - you hadn't even noticed you'd written the song about Yoongi, as far as you saw it it was just a song about someone else going through a hard time. Your phone buzzed from beside you as you were about to lay your vocal track down,

[Yoongi]: Need your help in the studio, please.

The emoji he'd sent wasn't like Yoongi at all, a pleading face with a please at the end? It wasn't like Yoongi at all. Yoongi never said please, ever. Maybe he'd finally realised how much he'd pushed you this week and was trying to say sorry for it. You locked your desktop up taking your phone with you towards his studio, it was just up the hallway from yours so you wondered what the big deal could have been when you heard a crash coming from inside his room. 

"Yoongi?!" You panicked pushing open the door to see him standing in the corner of his room with a look of fear across his face, you glanced over at the shelves that were now hanging from the wall, one of them still swinging as it held onto the bracket in the wall. 

"What happened?" Your voice came out shaky and nervous as you stared at them in horror, everything looked like it was broken but repairable or in desperate need of a trip to the trash cans. 

"I was working and they just fell- You didn't do a good job on them!" He snapped at you pointing his finger in your direction, you turned to him. He was bringing this around to you? How had this been your fault when it was his office?

"Yoongi I didn't even install the shelves so would you like to explain how it's my fault?!" You lost your temper for a second but squeezed your thumb between your middle finger and ring finger to try and calm yourself down, bring yourself back to reality where he was your boss and not someone you should talk to that way. Even if he had done nothing but belittle you all week into doing stupid tasks for him. Monday it was running around stores for him to look for a certain writing paper, Tuesday he had you working on his tracks as well as cleaning his shoes, Wednesday he wanted the shelves cleaning so that's what you had done, Thursday he wanted you to take his car to get details and the list went on until today, Friday, the final day you had to work on your own things and you'd done nothing but run around after him like his own personal assistant - who he had you fire because she was 'incompetent' and he couldn't stand her working for him anymore. 

"I asked you to clean everything up there the other day so it's clearly your fault." He spat at you, you looked down at the floor to see shards of broken glass everywhere on the floor. If he wasn't careful he could seriously hurt himself and the thought alone made you anxious, 

"Whatever, I-I'll clean it up." You stuttered out not wanting to have a huge fight about it. Maybe it had to have been your fault you knew you'd cleaned up the shelves the other week but nothing you could have done would have caused the brackets to fall out of the wall the way they had. 

"Can you get me-" You went to asked him to get the dust-pan and brush but he was already out of the room and talking into his phone about something, 

"Fuck." You whispered standing up from the floor and going to find the things you needed yourself. 

"How's your project coming along Y/n?" Jungkook asked as he followed you up towards Yoongi's studio, he'd seen you walking through the building looking for something so he decided to come along with you. 

"I heard Yoongi-Hyung called you to his studio, seems like you guys have gotten really close over the last week." He chuckled rubbing the back of his neck as you walked, you laughed nervously. Everyone had noticed how close you worked with Yoongi but no one had noticed how he was treating you because whenever someone else was around it was as if he was a new person, acting like someone you'd known for years and not someone who was using you to get his own way.

"You could say that." It wasn't in you to bad mouth another person behind their back so you kept your mouth shut and opened the door to the studio, Jungkook's mouth hung open as he walked inside behind you looking around at everything. He was about to step further into the room when your arm reached across his chest to stop him from going any further into the room. 

"Careful there's bits of glass everywhere." You muttered nonchalantly to him as you got down onto your hands and needs to start cleaning everything up as quickly as possible.  

"What happened?" He asked looking at the shelves he frowned staring at them, 

"Yoongi was working when they fell," He scoffed at the word fell and walked over to them being careful not to step on anything that was on the floor but he ran he fingers over the holes in the walls. They hadn't fallen at all, they'd been ripped from the wall anyone could see that. He glanced down at everything at the floor and back up to the shelf as he tried to calculate something in his head, Yoongi had removed everything from the shelves and ripped them down before throwing everything onto the floor but why?

"What did Yoongi say happened?" He was sitting next to you now picking up big shards of glass and putting them into the bin beside you, 

"That he was working when they fell." He nodded looking at your face as you concentrated on not hurting yourself, 

"How much work do you have left to do?" He was sure this was nothing to do with your work and he was imagining things but Yoongi had been off lately but this wasn't like the Yoongi he'd known all these years. Why would Yoongi smash up his own things just to get you to stop working? 

"Not much, I have one song to finish and I'm done, I'll have it finished by presentation time tomorrow." You lied. You'd only have it finished if you stayed late again tonight - by staying late you meant falling asleep on the sofa in your office. 

When you finally made it back to your studio that night you were exhausted, you'd cleaned up every small fragment of glass you could find before you went on the hunt for photo frames that looked exactly like the ones that Yoongi had had on the shelves. You'd even gone to DIY stores to get filler for the walls, filling in the holes waiting for them to dry while you fixed up awards with glue you'd picked up. 

"Yoongi? What are you doing in here?" You asked tiredly as you saw Yoongi sitting on the sofa in your studio, his feet kicked up on the sofa as he looked at you. 

"I came to tell you about your work but you weren't here so I figured I'd wait for you." You frowned at him dropping the bag of rubbish outside the door for the night cleaners to come by and take, 

"What about my work?" You looked at the desktop in your studio to see that it was bluescreened, the sad sarcastic face that windows always had whenever a computer did this was evident on the screen. 

"What the fuck!?" You screamed rushing over to it, tapping on the keyboard to try and get anything to work, 

"It's alright, you backed everything upright?" He questioned smugly looking as you pulled out a USB stick from the back of the PC but it was snapped leaving the metal fragments inside of the computer. Your heart was pounding against your chest and tears rushed to your eyes as you thought about everything that was on the computer and USB drive. Yoongi smirked from behind you as you began to cry silently into your hands, he knew you weren't going to say anything to him so he turned to leave when you finally broke down. 

"Why?" You whimpered turning to look at him, tears were streaming down your face as he locked eyes with you. His chest panged with guilt as he saw the broken look across your face, 

"Why do you hate me so much?!" You questioned looking at him and then at the computer, 

"I've done nothing but work my ass off since I got here! But yet you treat me like I'm nothing, why? What did I ever do to you that was so bad?!" You were yelling, Yoongi had never even heard you talk above your normal tone before and it was shocking to have you yelling at him now. He felt bad. 

"Y/n-"

"No, don't ''Y/n'' me. Answer me, what did I ever do to you? You know, Jungkook told me that you probably ripped down those shelves but I've spent my whole day fixing everything for you, putting them back up and making sure they're level. Replacing everything you smashed up, cutting up my hands." You mumbled showing him your plastered covered hands. 

"Do you want me to quit? Because if so you got what you wanted." You were calmer now which scared Yoongi even more than when you were yelling, you grabbed your bag from the back of the door and walked away from him. 

"I quit. You can have the honours of letting everyone know for me." You walked out of the hallway and onto the staircase of the BigHit building falling onto the step and clutching onto the railing as you sobbed into your hands about everything he'd put you through over your time there.

Yoongi made his way back to his studio looking around, everything was perfectly arranged the way he had it before he'd wrecked it all. The shelves were a little lower than they had been but the holes had to be covered somehow. The trophies he had on display were all fixed back together, you could hardly notice the cracks within them unless you knew they were there and the photographs were back in frames like the ones he owned. You'd done a brilliant job on everything and yet he'd treated you the way he did, he reached into his pocket to take out the real USB stick he'd taken from your computer with everything on it and he put it into his own computer loading everything up onto his system. 

"Yoongi?" He looked over his shoulder to see one of the night security men, 

"Yeah?"

"It's Y/n again Sir, we found them asleep on the steps, what should we do?" He sighed coming out of his office to see you asleep in the arms of another security guard. They'd found you like this a couple of times over the months of you working for BigHit and they always came to Yoongi since he'd told them to whenever they saw you asleep somewhere that wasn't your own studio. Yoongi had found you asleep on his sofa one night and carried you to yours so that you could get some decent sleep. 

"Take them to their studio," He mumbled walking behind them as they carried you towards your room. They laid you down before leaving and he stared at you, the way your brows furrowed together as you dreamt about something you didn't like,

"Yoongi go away," You whimpered in your sleep and he sighed running his hand along your cheek using his thumb to caress your skin as he realised he was the bad thing you were dreaming about.

Groaning as you woke up the next morning you looked around you to see you were in your office, your computer still had the patronising sad face over the screen that made you want to put your fist through the screen just so it would go away. You sat up on the sofa to see a blanket had been laid across your body, a glass of water and orange juice was on the table along with a note. 

Meet me in my studio - Yoongi 

You scoffed at the note throwing it into the bin and running your hairs through your hair, you opted out of drinking the drinks he'd left you and headed to the mirror in your room to try and make yourself look at least a little presentable and not that you'd spent the night on your studio sofa which wasn't even your studio anymore. You were going to quit. You weren't going to take it anymore. Throwing the door open you made you way down the hall ignoring Yoongi's door as you passed it heading straight to Bang PD instead of going to Yoongi like he'd asked of you. 

"You're telling me you're quitting?" Bang PD asked as he looked up from the work on his desk, he was marking through papers with his glasses pressed up against his face, 

"Yes Sir, I know it's short notice but my work, there was an accident with my computer and it's gone. To save a lot of hassle I decided to quit that way you won't have to fire any competent interns." The door to his office opened and closed, Yoongi stood behind you panting heavily. 

"They're not quitting Sir, they're just tired." He was breathing heavily and PD put his pen down onto the table sighing as he watched the both of you bicker back and forth about quitting, 

"Don't let them quit," Yoongi spoke louder than you could and you stared at him as he stepped in front of you and began ranting quickly as though he was rapping,

"Their PC was corrupted last night and I have their original work on a USB stick, there's no need to fire Y/n or let them quit so please just...Don't let them, it's my fault all of this happened, Sir. I took everything Y/n was working on and it's ready for your viewing in the main presentation room."

Bang PD had reviewed everything on the CD while you stayed silent listening to yourself singing on the tracks along with Jungkook and Jimin who were included in some of the songs. 

"This is exceptional work Y/n." Bang PD said as he turned around to face you on the chair, 

"I won't stop you from quitting if it is something you want to do but from what I've heard we would be at a loss without you on our team." You stared down at the floor nodding along to what he was saying, 

"I'll give you some time to think things over," He patted your back leaving you and Yoongi alone in the room, as soon as the door shut you turned to him. 

"Do you think this would fix anything between us? That you presenting my work as if everything was fine would be okay!? Are you fucking-" You were cut off when his lips touched yours, his hands pressed on the back of your head to bring you closer to him. Your eyes widened as you realised you were kissing him, slowly they began to flutter shut as you leant into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. You were kissing Min Yoongi...You were kissing Min Yoongi?! The guy that had made your life hell. You pushed him away from you and shook your head, tearing up as you thought about it. 

"Are you actually insane?!" You spat at him glaring at him as he smirked wiping his lips with his hand, 

"I think that's the best kiss I've ever had, come here-"

"Wipe that smirk off your face, you're deluded if you think that is ever going to happen." As much as you wanted it to it wasn't something that could happen again, 

"You've done nothing but make my life a living hell since I started here, why did you- Why would you-" There were too many questions to ask in such a short time span that you just took in sharp breaths trying to calm yourself down.

"Come on, I know I call you dumb Y/n but I don't mean it." He chuckled walking over to you again, he raised his hand to your cheek but you didn't move away you snuggled your face against it. Your whole body felt warm from the small interaction and he chuckled feeling your cheeks heat up and watched as you skin began to glow, 

"You like me and I like you, what's the big deal?" You moved away from him yet again, 

"The big deal is that you've done nothing but make my life hell, you made me think my work was gone and then magically think it's going to be fixed because I got to keep my job?" You asked him raising an eyebrow at him if he really thought that this was all going to be some magically happy ending he was wrong things like that only happened in the movies.

"Y/n please, I was- I was intimidated by you and you working so hard it scared me...I thought if I could push you down a little and make you work less I wouldn't have to be afraid." You rolled your eyes at the excuse he was spilling out to you and you went to leave the room but his hand was placed on top of yours, you would be lying if you said you didn't feel something there. It was as if there was a huge electric shock running throughout your entire body whenever he touched you.

"I like you, a lot, another reason I made you run around for me so I could see you more often than I normally would...It was wrong okay and I'm sorry but let me make it up to you. Don't run away from me." He pleaded with you, you turned to look at him and sighed. He looked sorry for everything he'd done and he was, he was terrified and felt guilty for everything he'd done. 

"Please."

"How?" You questioned folding your arms across your chest to seem more intimidating but mostly to get your hand away from his otherwise you were about to cave in to him right away. 

"I'll take you out, just us two. Away from all of this so I can prove how much I like you...Please?" You licked your lips pretending to think about it as if you didn't already have the answer 'yes' written in glowing lights above your head.

"Fine. One date and then we'll talk about it..." You whispered looking at him as he walked closer to you, pulling your hand into his and smiling softly. 

"I am truly sorry." He whispered kissing your lips softly as he stepped closer to you.

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#bts #Bts x reader #bts x you #bts x y/n #bts imagine #bts imagines #seokjin #kim seokjin #jin #min yoongi #yoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi imagine #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi imagine #suga #suga x reader #suga imagine #jhope #jung hoseok #hoseok #kim namjoon #namjoon #park jimin #jimin #kim taehyung #taehyung #jeon jungkook #jungkook

[the-fandom-is-now-my-life]

Hc inverse au! Fem Reader in Victorian era England and ynm characters are in our time.

You are a character in an anime and ynm are in real life

Williams

( he seems like the type to be into really dense, historical mangas)

He first read a manga featuring you when one of his students left their copy on their desk and he had to overview some students while they were using the presentation room.

He mostly just sat in the first row while the group of teens were recording hamlet for the theater class.

He didn't really took the story seriously so he started reading a lady who was trying to seduce a noble for a few pages, he was about to leave the manga given that he supposed it was a hentai but when you poisoned them with the wine cup he found it interesting

The main character had a set of very strong ideals that weren't so common in the historical context, be it strip nobles and royals from benefits, be a suffragette, or something similar .He ate the manga in five minutes

When he returns home (and leaves the item in lost objects, ofc) he checks online to buy the first volume to see if the background and sort are interesting along with every other volume and official light novel and Novella . He usually isn't home from very early to very late at night so it would be Louis most likely the one who receives the box with the books

"Brother, did you buy a box full of comics" Louis asks from the kitchen after he feels his older brother returning home

" oh? They already arrived? I thought they would be here next week" well Louis always was worries about how his brother didn't have any hobbies aside from teaching at the University so he was happy that he found something else to do with his life

He would ask for a sick day on a Monday or Friday so he could plan everything that was needed at his class that day and spend the weekend lazing around and reading the various volumes and the light novels. That day Louis and albert almost cried of happiness, that was the first time he took a sick day in all of his teaching years to take a break

The type of fan who creates theories that everything is symbolism, how they are ambidextrous to show that even if they intend good sometimes their methods are too extreme or how their hat was placed or the color of their clothes show their political affiliation. Nothing can be just a coincidence with him, everything means something

Is a big pain in the ass about historical inaccuracies, be it dress, manners or social hierarchy being off

" But listen this is the late Victorian era, where is their crinoline??/ They are supposed to be a Victorian dandy and the writer wants me to believe they would wear that? In that society?" williams turned on the lights to his younger brother room while walking in circles as if he was trying to calm down

" Williams it's 3 am. Please I want to sleep"

" Oh and don't let me get started when they crossdressed/dressed as lady northinburg, that tight lacing scene made me so angry" he was dragging his words, Louis guessed he was sleep drunk " how much I hate that, karolina or bernadette would kill those producers if they saw it" Louis simply opted to sleep while his brother was ranting about how the hairstyles were al wrong

When speaking of merchandising he appreciates his mature and elegant reputation so he would buy small things like cute stationery and notebooks and a few pens. Most of them either are about the main character, you, or have the anime title or something similar

A few students think that the professor brings some childish pens in case some student forgets one and he doesn't have to give them his mechanical pencil. He actually uses those pens when he is grading the exams. His notebook annotations look a lot cleaner and are more colorfully bc of the markers and pens

When and if your manga gets and anime he would be 100 percent bitching about how they skipped, if you are a minor character, scenes where you are introduced or you character gets development.

" Oh my goodness, they skipped to this ark? And 'the mask'? In that ark we get the development of many characters, yn, edward, Amélie, Alex. We are absolutely robed of their backgrounds and aspirations and how they are all connected"

" Brother be honest with yourself, you only wanted more animated yn, you follow their voice actor on twitter"

" That is not my point!"

Albert

he was watching it when he came late

Albert usually keeps company to his youngest brother until around 5-6 pm, then he leaves for work and returns around 12 am and eats dinner alone mostly.

When he returns from his job the house is more often than not totally dark so he makes his way to the kitchen and microwaves the leftovers and eats silently.

But one day it seems like Louis or williams forgot to turn off the TV before going to bed, he was about to turn it off but decided that watching something with the tv muted wouldn't wake his brothers up and kept watching.

He didn't pay much attention to it at the start but it became routine, he comes home, heats the food, sits down and watches that show so he grew quite fond of it

How much attention he pays to it depends on the type of plot it has, if it is light-hearted humor he would most likely not pay much attention but laugh when a joke came, one the other hand, if it's a more serious he would find it hard to take his eyes away from the screen

Second least likely to buy merchandising, if he buys it's mostly to wear home, a one size too big shirt for a pj (mostly for the comedy anime) or, if they aren't childish and look professional maybe a pocket watch like the one x character uses ( in the more serious one)

Won't buy the mangas if there are any because he is happy watching the animated version and already has to read a lot at work, but if he is gifted the volumes he will read them sparingly, maybe he will finish one volume every week and a half, unlike williams.

Louis

He spends most of his time home because of his illness and doesn't like to stress too much given that it makes the symptoms worse, he enjoys light hearted comedies or cooking in the victorian era or those typical time travelers who now have to live in different situations than those they are used to

He most likely found it after doing all the housework and being bored so he opted to browse the TV or netflix and fell on one specific serie

If it is a comedy he will listen to it while cleaning or cooking, he feels like he does everything faster and the housework is more enjoyable that way.

If it's a cooking related program he will watch as entertainment after doing everything and to get ideas what to cook, he is always surprised with the recipes that your character comes up with, be them savory ( things he will absolutely do the next day for lunch or dinner) or sweet ( things he will make more sparingly given he can't have too much sugar). I think of mangas and series like the duchess' 50 te recipes or shokugeki no soma

If it the third option he was interested on the alternatives to modern things, like how to make a more natural soap with animal fat and wood ash, or how to use certain plants to help a headache or stomach bug.

With merchandising he doesn't buy much, some kitchenware and some bowls mugs and maybe a tea set that isn't much of an eyesore. Overall he isn't all that crazy over that kind of things if there is a cooking book he will definitely buy it

He, like albert, doesn't care much about historical accuracy and if the events that happen are cohesive, he is there to have fun

Fred

He watched it because he heard his classmates talk about it and wanted to join them but was too scared to bother them if he didn't know anything. Baby has the social abilities of an anxious lobster

He comes home from college and looks the anime up in his phone and, like every broke college student, he watches it from an illegal streaming service.

He gets hooked up and stays all night watching it until his clock snaps him out of his trance and makes him drag his feet to his 7:30 am class

Fred tries and fails to talk to the group so, after the lesson, he drags himself to his room to be miserable alone. It's not until he reaches a certain chapter or episode where you say something that make him think, " if you wish to be loved you must face first your fear to be known" he keeps thinking about it, he didn't truly ever talk to the group, he cowarded before even trying.

The next week at that same lecture he approaches the group and tries to make some small talk

" Oh hey uhm i heard the past class that you liked (maga name)" he was this close to running to his desk and act as if nothing happened

" Yeah! You like it too?" The boy seemed to notice fred was nervous

" Yes! I really like it, what is you favorite character? Mine is yn" he certainly didn't have any favorite one before but after this he thinks your character is pretty good " they are really inspiring"

In terms of merch he is broke so there is none, If he had any money to spare he would buy notebooks and even those chibi statues or funko pops

#yuumori #yuukoku no moriarty x reader #yuukoku no moriarty #moriarty x reader #albert james moriarty #professor moriarty #moriarty the patriot #mtp #ynm #gn reader #william moriarty #williams james moriarty x reader #louis moriarty

[vampiric-daydreams]

Enlightenment

Jasper x Reader

This is Part 3 of the Jasper miniseries. Here is Part 1.

Summary: Your secret investigation picks up speed and you finally talk to Jasper. As the evidence piles up, you wonder if you’ve made a grave mistake. A surge of courage paves a new course for your future.

Word Count: 2,814

A/N: !!!!!!!!

*

Your finger hovered over the call button as you stared at Jasper’s name with intent. Your hairs stood on end as the chilly night air forced you deeper into the thick blankets enveloping you. The bitter cold clouded your windows as midnight approached, and the soft pitter-patter of rain splashing on the roof served as a comforting lullaby.  Heavy eyelids threatened to fall as Jasper’s name blurred. You tapped the screen.

‘Hey,’

The word sat in the text box and waited for you to press send. It was the third time you had tried to contact him that night. First craving to hear his voice, knowing that his words and his time in that moment would be only for you; and then settling for a message you would never send. What if, after he felt he’d resolved everything, that would be it? No more talking? Those ideas were enough to make you shut the screen off and leave the phone on charge.

You wanted this to be a chance for a beginning, not an ending. It was his choice to not want to be with you, but that didn’t mean he shouldn’t be near you. As painful as his sheer loyalty and devotion to Alice was, it only caused you to like him more. Long forgiven were his shameless brags about his girlfriend; they made you blush when you imagined him talking about you.

As your head sank into your pillow, thoughts of affection lulled you to sleep; and dreams of soft lips and firm hands carried you through the lonely, frigid night.

 *

 At school, life went on. Jason proceeded to pine after Eric Yorkie, just as you pined after Jasper. Alice continued to greet you whenever she saw you, but the other Cullens had faded into the background. As you walked into your English class expecting to see your neighbouring seat empty again, somebody was already sitting there, nibbling on a pencil.

Bella Swan wore her hair in a low, messy ponytail. She tugged at the sleeves of her flannel. “H-Hey,” she said as you approached. “You’re (Y/N), right?” Your heart fluttered; not because she knew your name, but because she likely heard it from a Cullen - and you hoped it was Jasper who had mentioned you. You slid into your seat beside her, tripping over her old orange backpack on the way. She dragged her bag out of the walkway and stammered a quick, “sorry.”

“You’re Bella Swan?” You feigned ignorance. Bella nodded. “You’re dating Edward, right?”

Her shoulders seemed tense. “Y-Yeah, for a while.”

“So how come you switched classes?” Did Jasper make her so he could get away from you?

“Oh, uh, the admin ladies just said another student wanted to switch due to a class conflict, so I said I didn’t mind.” Wanted. Jasper had chosen to distance himself from you, and the reminder made you skip a breath.

“I haven’t seen Edward around today, did he skip school without you or something?” You changed the subject before you could cry, still careful to not pry too hard with Bella. This was a chance to dig deeper into the Cullens and their secret.

“Oh… he isn’t feeling well, so he’s at home.” Bella Swan was a terrible liar. She had so many tells and nervous habits, you couldn't believe her father was the chief of police. Bella stopped tugging at her flannel sleeves and instead rolled them up to her elbows. You would never have seen it if she hadn’t raised her arm to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear—but there it was; clear as crystal. A scar marred the inner side of her wrist; lighter than the rest of her skin and raised. A human bite.

 *

 Never had you noticed, despite all your pining for the Hale boy, that none of the Cullens ever ate anything. Emmett and Rosalie’s trays held a few pieces of fruit, whole and untouched, until Alice and Jasper joined them in dumping their food in a nearby trash can. They never eat or go to the bathroom. You had thought more about how safe your thoughts were and deemed that most evidence you had towards mind-reading pointed at Edward. It was Edward who put words into your mouth—and even Alice pointed her finger at him in the phony story she had tried to feed you. You would test that theory today and not hide your thoughts to see what would happen. 

Reciting the proof you’d gathered in your head, there was a word on the tip of your tongue. A very strong accusation—one that was mythical and insane, but you couldn’t shake the idea since you saw Bella’s bite mark. The notebook on the table was open to your ‘Cullen’ page, and you were near enough to observe their irises from where you were sitting. You just needed to act nonchalant about it.

You hadn’t updated your notebook for a week as you hadn’t gotten close enough to any of them to have a proper look. But your table was only ten strides away from theirs. You clicked your pen. Monday, Emmett, gold. Jasper, gold. You took a bite out of your sandwich, creating a gap in glances so as not to draw their attention. Rosalie, gold. Your heart was racing. Alice, gold. You glanced back at the previous entry just to be sure, but the black ink told no lies. Rosalie and Alice’s eyes had changed. Your hand moved, and the words formed on the paper in front of you.

Get close, check for contacts.

It was the last logical explanation for any of it; and while Jasper’s eyes never changed, he would be the easiest Cullen to talk to today as he was still waiting to apologise and give you his own phony explanation. After lunch, it didn’t take long for you to find Jasper waiting outside one of his classes. All it took was one look for him to follow you out to a quiet space behind one of the back buildings on campus.

His Southern twang made your heart melt. “You didn’t call. I thought you weren’t ready.”

Why didn’t his biological sister sound Southern?

“I wanted to do this in person.” You took care to seem assertive, despite your teeth threatening to chatter and your palms sweating.

“(Y/N), I’m not even sure where to start…” Jasper began apologising, just as his adopted siblings and girlfriend did before him; repeating the same so-called explanation supposed to make everything go away. You tried to focus on your goal instead of the way his voice broke, or the way the tips of his strawberry blonde hair brushed against his strong jawline. Concentrating on his eyes, you were looking for a very thin line—one that would give away a contact lens. But his eyes were flawless, clear, and natural. A chill crept up your spine.

The more Jasper spoke, the more you heard that his manner of speaking sounded dated at times. It came and left like each beat of a butterfly’s wing, but it was noticeable to somebody already on that train of thought. That word that came to you earlier threatened to slip from your tongue if you weren’t careful; and you restrained it by clenching your teeth.

“I understand,” you replied once Jasper had finished reciting the script they had given him. A swift wind of courage blew through your body as you straightened up. “And I’m sorry for making you stew in guilt for this long. I guess I was just afraid to approach you.” You twisted the knife. “But even Alice said, it’s not like any of you bite, right?”

Jasper’s gaze morphed from sincerity to one that pierced through you. His body turned rigid, and his eyes squinted ever so slightly. “That’s right. We gave you one hell of an impression. But as you can see, that impression was wrong, and we’re just average people like you.” The double-edge in his words threatened to cut you. “So, there’s nothing for you to worry about.”

The suspicion that drove you suddenly came to a halt; replaced by a warm feeling of satisfaction and comfort. It was just like that time you had that confrontation with Jasper and Edward, and you felt soothed; but this time, you were conscious of it. So, you soldiered on through this strange, artificial complacency and tried to hold on to any shred of logic you had left.

“It’s weird how whenever my anger or difference of opinion becomes inconvenient for you, I suddenly feel this strange toggling of my emotions.” The cosy aura strengthened. You remained aware. “It’s almost as if you’re controlling it somehow. Just like how Edward knows what I’m thinking and Alice has no trouble finding me. But there’s nothing to see here, right?”

Jasper stopped whatever it was he was trying to do and gave you an incredulous look. “Come with me.”

He started walking, never turning back to check if you were following, towards an outline of trees in the distance that led to the forest. You walked in the opposite direction, back into the school. Now that your theory was all but confirmed, you wouldn’t follow any of his kind into further seclusion. Entering the nearest building, the gym, you sat on the bleachers and pulled out your notebook. There would be enough witnesses surrounding you to ensure your safety. You dug around in your backpack for a loose pen and clicked it.

The Cullens are vampires.

-          Edward, mind reading

-          Jasper, emotions, cold skin

-          Bella, bite scar on arm

-          Alice… extreme knowing???

-          Never eat

-          Never use bathroom

-          All look the same, not biologically related

-          Eyes change colour, no contact lenses

You slammed the book shut and stuffed it back in your backpack. Clenching your car keys, you felt eyes on you. On your hands, on your back, on your face. Fear took over your mind as abandoned all logic and raced out of the gym and into your car; darting your eyes left and right for any angry vampires waiting to murder you to conceal their secret.

This was a mistake. A horrible mistake. You should have told someone where you were going, and who you were going with so the Cullens would be accountable. The engine roared to life as you slammed your foot on the accelerator. What if they killed your family over this? You swerved, narrowly missing a police car in an intersection. Red and blue lights flashed behind you as a siren sounded. Shit. You pulled over in a side street and rolled down your window.

The officer pulled in behind you, taking his time to get out of the police car. You tapped your fingers on the dusty dashboard, checking your side mirror to see what was taking so long; only to watch as Chief Swan himself shut his car door and strolled over to your side window.

“Everything all right over here?” He put his hands on his hips. “What’s going on?”

“I’m sorry Officer—I mean Chief Swan—I’m in a hurry to get home, I’m not feeling well.” Your knuckles whitened as you clenched your fists.

“You have a licence with you?” He was holding a clipboard and a pen. The last thing you needed was a fine on top of everything else. You handed him your licence and tried to look as pathetic as possible. “Well, (Y/N),” he read your name, “must be one hell of an illness.”

“I’m really sorry, Chief Swan. I was feeling anxious at school and I needed to get out of there and back home where I’ll feel better.”

Chief Swan sighed. “I can drop you off, and my partner will drive your car home.” He gave you a stern look. “I won’t fine you this time. Just drive more carefully? Maybe let somebody else drive if you’re this stressed out?”

You nodded fast. He motioned for you to get out of the car.

The drive back to your place was silent. You contemplated asking him how he felt about his daughter dating one of the Cullens to see if he’d spill anything; but there was nothing left to dig for. Jasper didn’t have to say the word, and neither did you, for your discovery to become clear on both ends. You tried to steady your breathing as the police car stopped by the curb outside your house. Your own car pulled into the driveway as the other officer locked the door behind him and crossed his arms.

Your legs shook as you exited the police car, the other officer handed you your keys. “Go inside, get some rest,” Chief Swan said as you looked back at him. “We’ll have to contact a parent or guardian, so I’ll stop by later tonight when they’re home. You’ll be all right by yourself?”

“Y-Yeah, thanks.”

Chief Swan and the other officer watched you enter your front door before they drove away.

You scurried to your bedroom, collapsing onto your bed with your backpack still on. Hot tears burned your cheeks as they dripped down to your chin; your snotty nose forcing you to breathe through your mouth. It was dark by the time you had calmed. You slid your backpack from your shoulders and kicked it against your pillows. Wiping your face with shaking hands, you pressed your nose to the glass window and peered out. No vampires waiting to kill me.

Temporary relief washed through you. You were safe now, but what about tomorrow, and the next day? What about after that? You walked to the kitchen and filled a glass with water. The cool liquid soothed your raw throat.

The Cullens couldn’t let you go on knowing what they truly were. It wasn���t as though you would tell anybody—who would even believe you? Even now, with all the evidence you had collected and seen, you struggled to accept it, yourself. A sick laugh shook your core as you imagined storming into Chief Swan’s office at the station with theories about vampires dating his daughter. He, and everyone else in town would call you crazy. Even telling one person what you thought had the potential to ruin your life.

Your teeth ached from how hard you had been clenching your jaw earlier, and your chest felt so tight that it hurt to breathe. You finished your water and washed out the glass. It wasn’t that late yet, but after the events of the day all you wanted to do was curl up under your blankets and try to sleep.

Thump.

The sound came from your bedroom. You crept against the wall, keeping close to the shadows. What if they want to kill me right now?

You exhaled roughly. They couldn’t kill you. Forks was a small town; people would notice if you were missing. It wasn’t something that would slide under the radar… Then you froze solid. All the supposed animal attacks of the past year flashed through your mind, one by one. Wasn’t there a rumour going around about the bodies being drained of blood?

You cracked open your bedroom door, and goosebumps dispersed across your skin. The air in your room was colder than the rest of the house, and you shivered. Your eyes darted around in search for someone, but your bedroom was empty. You sighed in relief as you noticed the sound had come from your backpack falling off your bed. You walked over and picked it back up, rummaging through it for your notebook. A frown forced its way onto your face. You swore you hadn’t taken it out, yet.

Pouring the backpack’s contents onto your bed, you scattered text books and pens to the side. Nothing. You searched beneath your bed, in the space between your dresser and your wall, and across every surface in the room. Drawers were pulled and piles of clothes were frantically scattered as the walls closed in on you. If you’d lost this notebook with everything in it…

A frigid gust of air froze your back before you turned around. Your notebook was missing; and the window you knew for certain had been closed before you left was now wide open.

Tears pricked at your eyes again as you spun around, stifling a scream. Jasper Hale now stood five steps away from you, his impossible eyes burning with intensity.

*

Tags: @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @eggmettcullen @xcharlottemikaelsonx @oi-itsemily @cacti-succulents-andlesbians @aw0kenangel @jelly-fishy-babie @kawaiikpoplover268 @awkwardnesshabitat @salsameter @dillybuggg @awesomebooklover17 @badgirlsdeaddreams @raindancer2004 @camillapad @champagnejoker  

#jasper miniseries #vampiric-daydreams #twilight fanfiction #twilight #twilight saga #twilight imagines #cullen imagines #reader insert #reader insert imagines #fanfiction blog #twilight fanfiction blog #reader insert blog #jasper x reader angst #jasper x reader #cullens x reader #jasper hale #jasper hale x reader #jasper whitlock #jasper whitlock x reader #vampire fanfiction #twilight renaissance #bella swan #charlie swan #bella cullen #jasper hale imagine #jasper hale imagines #jasper x reader imagines

[hyuniebaby]

Focus (7)

Pairings: Baekhyun x Y/N x Junmyeon

Warnings: mentions of sex

AU: College student! Baekhyun, Professor! Junmyeon AU, college!au

A/N: I don’t proofread when I post so there might be typos 😅 I’ve been busy with work so I haven’t updated in a while~ If you’re still reading this fic, I just want to say thank you!

@coffee-prince-kyungsoo

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11

You spend the next few days avoiding Baekhyun. The task was extremely hard since you were both in the same program. One time he had his Advanced Biochemistry class just before your Organic Chemistry class in the same room. When you saw him making his way out of the room, talking animatedly to Jongdae, you immediately went to hide behind Seulgi. Lucky for you, you were shorter than her. He wasn’t able to notice you but your sudden movement caught Jongdae’s eyes. He smirks but doesn’t say a word to Baekhyun. Especially not when you were trying so hard to hide.

Jongdae, being Baekhyun’s best friend and roommate, naturally knew about Baekhyun kissing you. As much as he wanted to help Baekhyun out of his misery, he didn’t want to interfere. The last time he did, it went extremely uncomfortable for him as you’ve both been seen by a professor walk out of the janitor’s closet. It ended up with him being shouted on by Baekhyun and being ignored by Baekhyun the whole night when he tried to explain what happened.

Baekhyun, on the other hand, wanted to apologize again but this time for kissing you so suddenly. He honestly doesn’t know what he was doing and why he did it. But how was he supposed to tell you that? “Y/N, I’m sorry I kissed you, I don’t know why I did it.” Uh, no. That doesn’t sound like an apology to him. So despite having seen you many times when you tried to hide from him, he only looks at you longingly and doesn’t try to talk to you just yet. Maybe you weren’t ready to hear it too, he guessed, considering you were going out of your way to avoid him. Not to mention you running after he kissed you. To him, it seems logical to give you some time to process and get over it before he tried to apologize.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You’ve been so hung up on Baekhyun’s kiss that you neglected your studying. By the time the weekend came, you rejected your friend’s invite to a party. You planned to study the whole weekend at home to catch up with all the lessons you weren’t able to read about for the past few days. You were halfway through your Organic Chemistry notes when someone rings the doorbell. “Delivery for Ms. Y/N!” You hear someone shout.

Huh, you weren’t expecting something to come today, you thought. You went to open the door only to be greeted by a bouquet of flowers. “I’m sorry but I think you have the wrong address,” you tell the delivery man. The “delivery man” lowers the bouquet to reveal his face.

“Junmyeon?” You gasped. The first thought that came to your mind was that the person in front of you wasn’t Mr. Kim today, he was your friend, Junmyeon. He ditched the smart casual outfit and only wore a hoodie and some pants.

“These are for you.” He hand you the flowers. “Can I come in? I wanted to talk to you.”

You guide him to the dining table where your laptop and notebooks were scattered.

“I’m sorry to disrupt you from studying,” Junmyeon says as he scratches the back of his neck.

You respond with a nod as you carefully placed the flowers on the table. You were still quite mad at him for leaving you high and dry the other day.

“I just wanted to say sorry for the thing that happened a few days ago...”

“Oh you mean when you didn’t allow me to cum?”

He smiles sheepishly, flustered at how blunt you were being.

You’re friends with Junmyeon even before anything sexual happened between the two of you so you were open and comfortable talking about it with him than with Baekhyun. “I mean come on, Junmyeon, I understand we all have sexual urges. It’s fine. We’re human.” You ran your fingers through your hair. “But personally I think it’s unfair that you didn’t let me cum,” you sigh.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I just — my mind got clouded when I saw your hickey. I wasn’t in the right headspace.”

You were used to having sexual affairs, it wasn’t a big deal to you. You’ve had plenty of one night stands over last year with strangers. The only thing that was weird right now was that it was Junmyeon you did it with. A friend. Your professor. So you don’t know how to proceed with this. Same as how you didn’t know how to act with Baekhyun because of what happened to the two of you between the sheets.

It even complicates things when you hear Junmyeon say those last words. He worded it as if he was jealous that you’ve been doing this act with another man. And then you remember how Baekhyun sounds exactly the same the last time you talked and he reacted the same way. How possessive, you thought.

But if they were possessive, you were greedy. You wanted to have them that way again, despite the strain in your “relationships”. You wanted them to touch you and fuck you. Your thoughts were heading in another dangerous path so you cough and try to clear your mind.

“Yeah, whatever, Junmyeon. Just don’t do it again next time.” The words flew out of your mouth before you can even comprehend what you said.

Next time? His eyes widened. Will there be a next time? He sure as hell hopes so. Your mouth was amazing and he wanted to feel you again, but in your pussy next time. This excites him.

You were flustered with what you said. But if you talked right now, you’ll be embarrassing yourself more so you remain quiet. You stare at your notes as if they were the most interesting things in the world. You were hyper aware that he was looking at you. You kept your mouth shut.

Then Junmyeon sighs. “What are you studying, princess?” You blush at the pet name.

“Organic Chemistry.” You say. “I didn’t know it was supposed to be this hard.” The sexual tension now gone as you talked about your studies. “I mean, I know some basic stuff because of the training we received for the quiz bee last year but some of these things are really hard to understand. My professor won’t even teach us properly. She makes us answer all the problem sets in the book every meeting. How can you even answer something that you haven’t learned yet?”

Junmyeon looks at you softly. “I think I can help you with that. Although, I’m not as good in Organic Chem than I am with Biology...”

Your eyes sparkled at what he said. “That’s alright! You know I need all the help I could get. I’m pretty sure you know that I need a dumbed down version of the lesson if I need to get the hang of this.”

So for the next few hours, Junmyeon helps you study. Being your tutor for over a year, he knows how to get his point across to you so it wasn’t really hard for you to understand what he was saying.

The study session was interrupted once again when you hear jingling of keys. You see your parents standing by the door and you got up from your seat so fast to hug them. “You came earlier! I thought you weren’t supposed to come back until next week.”

“We missed you, darling.” Your mom coos.

“Next week’s meeting was rescheduled so we decided to go back here. How are you sweetheart?” Your father says.

“Everything’s fine. Junmyeon’s here, he’s helping me study.”

On cue, Junmyeon shakes hands with your parents to greet them. Your parents respected Junmyeon because he tutored you for over a year and had significantly improved your grades. They knew you remained friends with him after so they weren’t bothered by the fact that you were hanging out. Your mom invites him for dinner, but Junmyeon politely declines, claiming he still had some paperworks to sign and that only dropped by to help you study. He bids everyone goodbye after a few minutes of small talk with your parents and leaves.

By dinner time, you converse with your parents, asking them about their trip and what they did. In turn, they asked you how was your first week back at school and you internally cringed at the fact that the first week of your school was troublesome. You don’t tell them that though. You just tell them that it went by pretty quickly.

When you’re done with the dishes, you resigned to your room to study again. You studied until the weekend was over. You were a slow learner so you needed to promptly start studying instead of cramming everything the day before a quiz or major exam comes up. It works for you though, you get to learn at your own pace.

The next thing you knew, it was Monday again and you had Bio class. Since you and Junmyeon made up, you were slightly less worried about going to class. The only problem was Baekhyun was there and you don’t know if you should still avoid him or if maybe you should make up with him too...

As you enter the room, you scan for any sign of Baekhyun or Sehun. You release a breath of relief when you realized they weren’t there yet. Having arrived 15 minutes earlier than the start of the class, you sit by the middle row and start plugging on your earphones. You reread the lessons you studied over the weekend.

You were interrupted when someone taps your shoulder. You remove your earphones and look up to see Sehun smirking at you. You roll your eyes at him as he sits beside you.

“Is that the proper way to greet your friend?” He says.

You immediately fake a smile and use a high pitched voice, “Hi Sehun~”

Sehun frowns in disdain and shakes his head. “So... has was your talk with B?” He moves his eyebrows up and down.

“I remember making a promise to you last week? And it goes by ‘I will kill you,’ do you remember?” You smile at him.

“As I’ve said, I’d like to see you try.”

“Can I borrow your hand?” You ask him.

Sehun eyes you warily but gives his hand eventually. You smile and grab one of his fingers and start bending it backwards.

“Ow!” He shouts and snatches his hands away from you. “What a devil!”

You roll your eyes. “Stop overreacting. It wasn’t that bad!”

He raises his brow in response.

“Now that that’s all done,” you start saying, “last week he apologized to me. For — uh, reacting weirdly when he saw me and Jongdae. He explained how Jongdae wanted to ‘seek me out’ when he found out what happened between me and B. And then....”

And then Baekhyun arrives and you immediately shut your mouth. Sehun notices Baekhyun’s arrival but continues to look at you, asking you through his eyes for the rest of the story. But you don’t budge. Sehun figures that you won’t talk if Baekhyun was there so he sighs and pinches his nose in frustration. He hates it when people leave him hanging.

You didn’t expect Sehun to turn around and ask Baekhyun what happened last week. Your eyes widened. You look at Baekhyun and he looks at you. You plead with your eyes, asking him, no, begging him to not say anything to Sehun. But if anything, Baekhyun doesn’t like that Sehun still hangs around with you and that he sits beside you when it was supposed to be Baekhyun’s seat.

So out of spite, he says, “I kissed her.” at the same time that Mr. Kim comes in the classroom. Somehow, Mr. Kim heard what Baekhyun said and figured out that he was referring to you. Sehun, on the other hand, was shocked. He faced you while you buried your face in your hands.

It hasn’t been an hour since you’ve sat on your chair, but you feel like you’re so done for the week already.

#baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun fanfiction #baekhyun x reader #baekhyun x you #junmyeon fanfic #junmyeon fanfiction #junmyeon x you #junmyeon x reader #suho fanfic #suho fanfiction #suho x reader #suho x you #baekhyun fluff #suho fluff #junmyeon fluff #baekhyun smut #junmyeon smut #suho smut #exo fluff #exo smut #baekhyun #suho #junmyeon #byun baekhyun #kim junmyeon #exo suho #exo baekhyun #exo fanfiction #exo fanfic

[five-hxrgreeves]

I Won’t Back Down - Five Hargreeves x OC

Word Count: 1,982

You can stand me up at the gates of hell But I won't back down I'm gonna stand my ground Won't be turned around And I'll keep this world from dragging me down

1 |  2  | 3 |  4 |

Pt. 3- Monday, April 1, 2019

The morning of the first dawned with a bright blue sky and perfect spring temperatures, almost in  mocking irony of the fate it would meet later on that same day. Suspecting nothing amiss, Lola began her usual morning routine of getting ready for school. After brushing her teeth, she went to her closet and decided on a pair of jeans, a white, long-sleeved v-necked shirt with black polka-dots and after brushing her hair, hesitated over a choice of hats that she owned. While there was no strict dress code at her school, she did like to make a good first impression on Mondays. The rest of the week was up for grabs.

Coming to a decision, she reached for a yellow hat with a navy-blue ribbon around the crown that was tied in a bow and placed it jauntily on her head. The brunette was somewhat known around school for her unique accessories so she’d only been indecisive over which style she’d wanted, not actually whether or not to wear a hat. She then pulled on a pair of riding-styled boots and picked up her backpack, sliding her deck of cards into the back pocket of her jeans. Lunchtime was usually a boring affair so it was often when she would practice her magic- sometimes with a crowd to entertain.

On her route to school, Lola passed the familiar Umbrella Academy house and wondered what transpired within the walls, remembering the strange man she’d met the previous week. She wondered how long it had been since all of the siblings had seen each other since from Vanya’s book, it hadn’t seemed like they’d lived under the same roof for a long, long time. A smile flickered across her face as she thought of grown-up superheroes attempting to act like real siblings and the interesting, chaotic bickering that might ensue.

(Of course, she had no idea that such arguments might result in the end of life on earth.)

After that, the day passed as it usually did, with millions and billions of people completely unaware of what the night would bring.

--

Once dinner was over, Lola scraped her plate clean and set it in the dishwasher before turning it on to run, blatantly unaware that this would be the last time she did such a mundane action for a long, long time. Then, she made her way into the family room where her mother, father and uncle were sitting on the couch about to watch TV. Both men had their traditional after-dinner drink of two fingers of whiskey while her mother sipped on spiked hot coffee.

“Mom?” Lola asked.

“Yes, dear?”

“I’m going to the basement now, all of the dinner dishes are cleaned up.”

Her mother’s blue eyes- the ones she’d inherited- flicked to the younger girl, “alright, but don’t stay up too late. It’s a school night, you know.”

Her uncle grinned, “yeah,” he said, breaking to take a sip from his glass, “wouldn’t want you to show up all grumpy for school tomorrow.”

Lola sighed and nodded in acceptance, “alright, I’ll do my best,” she said, knowing it was more than likely she’d lose track of time anyway.

Moving first towards her mother, then father and finally her uncle, she gave them each a goodnight hug and exchanged their daily I love yous.

(She would be grateful that these were the last words she’d ever said to her family. At least she wouldn’t have to live wondering if her family had known she’d loved them.)

Then, she went to the basement.

Not even a mile away, the beginnings of an altercation were occurring at the house the size of a single block where the seventh, disregarded member of the family of superheroes was receiving a hostile welcome at the introduction of her new boyfriend, Leonard Peabody.

--

Lola liked her basement. It wasn’t terribly large but it wasn’t terribly small, either. Half of it was unfinished and the other half was lived-in, creating a perfect balance. In the unfinished side, metal shelves that one might see in a hardware store stood floor-to-ceiling with various tools and stored holiday items. Paint cans, electric machinery, extension cords and other items one would normally find in a shed were scattered haphazardly along the shelves.

In the other half, a carpeted floor of some green color stretched from the back wall to right before Lola’s writing desk. On top of it sat an old, brown-leather couch, a black wooden coffee table from IKEA and a TV hung mounted on the wall. After the carpet ended, removable foam-padded tiles formed the floor. This was the area where Lola’s desk sat which was a large, white table. The desktop itself was almost empty except for her half-filled notebook, three different-sized candles, a pencil sharpener and a pencil holder. Her papers- both for school and other things- were stored in a hand-me-down brown file cabinet that stood to the left of her workspace.

Before sitting down to write, the brunette carried out her ritual warm-up: lighting the candles, flipping to the next available page, sharpening her pencil and placing her reference books on her desk- The Book Thief, of course, and her new book from Vanya Hargreeves. Then, she pulled her deck of cards from her back pocket and placed the rectangular box carefully on the lower-left corner of her desk, making sure to match up the corners of the box with the outlined shape created by the corner. She wasn’t sure why she did this, it just was something she absolutely had to do before she finally sat down.

Once finished, Lola made sure to flip the electric lights off and returned to her seat which was a rolly-chair with one broken wheel. She began to write surrounded by her small pool of glowing, flickering light.

Today’s memory is from when I was six. (Note to self: find a better opening.) It was my first time at the store for hours on end. Usually, a babysitter would come by and pick me up but I suppose she cancelled. (NtS: get more details. Just kidding, nobody cares about that.) Anyway, I was super bored and since I was little, I didn’t have any schoolwork to do. I wandered around the store for a bit, probably causing mischief. Anyway (you already said that, dummy) the funny part is that I sat down at a group of mannequins because there weren’t any other seats and I must’ve sat so still that everyone thought I was one because when I finally stood up, a woman screamed. I didn’t know why at the time but it happened again when I was older. Then I started doing it for my own amusement. It was funny to see people think that I was a fake, plastic doll only to realize I was actually real. Sometimes, I even went to the back and dressed in clothes that would soon be modeled by the mannequins- although I think the effect was ruined because I didn’t fit them.

--

A story up and a block over, the altercation had grown to a full-blown verbal assault, the main four members of the family heatedly questioning the new boyfriend’s insistence on them coming to their sister’s concert. The seventh member, feeling hurt and angry that her family wouldn’t, just once support her, felt the tension build up within her, her emotions unusually high from the lack of medication she’d consistently taken for years until this week.

--

The spot was also great for people-watching. While Gimbel Brothers has mostly ordinary clients, there are some cases that are more noteworthy (NtS: fix wording, sounds awkward). There are many people who bring children to the store as well. On Mondays, there is an average of twelve children, usually after school. The number varies throughout the week until Saturday where there are usually fifteen or twenty. One time, as an outlier during the holidays, there were twenty-five. I know this because I counted them. I don’t usually do it intentionally and I’m sure I miss some customers but for some reason, all the numbers stick in my head. The funny thing is, I’m terrible at math. I’m also really good at cards, though. I’ve never lost a game of War or Go Fish. My uncle says I’m a counter, which I suppose is true. I’ve also counted all the sequins on one of our formal dresses, just for fun. There were two-hundred and eighty-six.

--

As the sky grew dark outside, the argument in the large house had reached an all-time high with Leonard Peabody outwardly insulting his girlfriend’s largest brother, inciting his anger and riling him up purposefully, causing him to throw the first punch. The seventh member of the family desperately tried to pull her boyfriend away, to save him from an assault that he would surely not survive. She was right about that, but there was nothing she could do. There was only one person Number One listened to and it wasn’t her.

--

Anyway, back to people-watching. There was once a rich woman who came to our store. No one could figure out why; we’re not exactly the high-end type. She brought her daughter with her, a pretty, blonde girl with bright blue eyes. Almost like mine, I think, but they looked better on her. I heard her tell Brittany that she wanted to get her granddaughter ‘normal clothes,’ except she said it like an insult. I figure that when her granddaughter came to visit, all she provided were expensive outfits and the girl spilled on them, teaching her the lesson of buying cheaper clothes for little kids. She didn’t say all of that but I made up the story to go along with her request.

--

Standing over Leonard’s body, the seventh member of the Hargeeves turned on her brother, eyes shining white against her pale face. In his hand, he held a bloody, glass eyeball. Her siblings crowded together, trying to calm her, but she spent all of her life being calm and she was tired of it. Turning her gaze to the academy, the building shook under a ten-point-zero earthquake, the bricks and concrete falling down in rapid succession. Tearing her gaze away from the sight of her childhood hell, she let sound waves resonate through the street, knocking over buildings and causing them to collapse, burying her siblings in rubble. Carelessly, she walked away as anger, sadness and hatred fueled her steps to her apartment where she changed and gathered up her violin for the world’s last performance.

--

She was very posh too, with fur and everything. She stood still long enough that I could study her coat, which had thirty spots. I’m not sure if it was real fur (if it was, she’s a horrible person), but she certainly acted very high-class, even speaking a little nasally and tilting her head up to look down on Brittany. I think it might’ve been because of Brittany’s skin color. The woman didn’t seem to be very accepting of hard-working people that looked different from her.

--

At ten o’clock pm, the close of the concert, sound waves so large they felled the building and many blocks over swept through the city. A short, dark-haired woman with a glowing white light in the center of her chest rose above the destruction, sending out pulses of sound to the far-reaching corners of the world. With no one to stop her, no one to shoot a gun next to her ear, the bottled power exploded from her chest sharing with everyone the feelings of hurt and neglect that she’d been forced to endure throughout her childhood. One person alone survived in a basement not much deeper than the fictional character’s she admired, writing away and completely unaware that the world above had changed beyond recognition.

#The Umbrella Academy #Umbrella Academy #five #five hargreeves #five hargreeves x dolores #five hargreeves x oc #five hargreeves x reader #Five x oc #five x dolores #tua five #5 #human dolores #pre-tua #apocalypse #hargreeves #dolores isn't a mannequin #vanya hargreeves

[theotherackerman]

My Mind Turns Your Life Into Folklore

My Mind Turns Your Life Into Folklore

COPYRIGHT DISCLAIMER: Any recognizable elements belong to Attack on Titan.

NOTES:

Monday January 18th

song eren sings: hey stephen-taylor swift

chapter twenty: slipped away into a moment in time

Annie did not like doctors to begin with.

They asked too many questions looking for answers she did not have.

Were her parents alive?

Were her parents dead?

She didn’t have the slightest clue.

This doctor decided to go on and on about how Annie needed to know these answers so she could see if the baby was going to need certain genetic testing.

After twenty minutes of arguing with the doctor how she didn’t know and that there was no way for her to find those answers, Annie left.

She wasn’t doing this.

They wouldn’t unseal files just because Annie was pregnant.

Armin trailed after her.

“We’ll find another doctor,” Armin assured her.

“It will just be more of the same questions,” Annie sighed.

“Maybe we find one that’s more understanding,” he reassured her as they walked to the car.

“If you say so,” she replied.

Annie didn’t have much hope.

--------------

The first lot was mostly empty of both people and cars.

After the salesman tried to argue with Ymir about what type of engine a car had while Ymir was staring at it, they moved onto the second car lot on the list.

The second lot was much better. It had a better selection of cars and there was a woman salesperson.

Ymir drooled over a black Chevy Camaro that was used.  It was manual so it was out of the question for Mikasa.

But for Ymir, she knew how to drive a manual.

Both Levi and Mikasa took note of how Ymir was staring at it.

Mikasa ended up staring at a red Dodge Charger.

“You’re going to get so many tickets. Cops favor red,” Levi sighed.

“That would require her to drive over the speed limit,” Ymir scoffed.

“She’s got a point there,” Eren nodded.

“I can hear you,” Mikasa told them.

“It’s your color. What do you think?” Eren asked her.

“You want to take it for a drive?” the saleswoman asked them .

“Go ahead,” Levi sighed.

Once Mikasa, Eren, and Ymir were in the car and driving it around the block with the saleswoman. Levi went to find another one.

“I want to take the black Camaro out,” he informed the people at the desk.

--------------------

Ymir didn’t like this.

She didn’t like how Mikasa was signing a check for Ymir’s car.

“You don’t...you shouldn’t…” Ymir protested.

It took one death glare from Mikasa followed by the words, “shut up.”

The check was signed. The Camaro was Ymir’s.

And suddenly Ymir realized she would never be able to repay this kindness.

“What about Historia? She doesn’t have a car either,” Ymir protested.

“She doesn’t seem like she misses her car that much. If she does, I'll just buy her one too," Mikasa shrugged

"You can't spend all your money on us," Ymir grumbled.

"Learn to take a gift with grace, Ymir," Levi said before he rolled his eyes.

She had not been expecting this at all. She certainly didn't understand it when she was pulling into the driveway.

The Camaro drove like a dream. She had thought she would have forgotten how to drive a manual as it had been so long. But it all came back to her like it was second nature. She could remember learning how to drive it with Jean and Reiner. Jean's mother had got him a Porsche which was, of course, manual. Reiner's truck had been the same. After nagging Historia who Reiner had been dating at the time, Reiner agreed to teach Ymir. It had been a strange moment for Ymir. Because she had been jealous of Reiner's relationships with Historia.

Mikasa pulled into the driveway not long after Ymir with Eren sitting into the front passenger seat.

The ride here had been fairly quiet. She worried about what was going through his mind.

“Do you remember that song you sang for me in high school? Before we got together?” He asked her.

“Which one?” Mikasa asked as she put the car into park.

“It goes something like {lyrics redacted due to copyright},” Eren sang before he undid his seatbelt.

“Nope. No idea what you’re talking about. I’ll see you inside,” Mikasa tried to get out of the car quickly but Eren grabbed her arm.

“Oh come on, you know it. Because half through you shut your notebook, said it was terrible, and changed the subject.”

Mikasa sighed, “what made you think of this?”

“I don’t know. It just kind of popped into my head.” He let go of her arm.

“I was fifteen. I was embarrassed and thought you would know it was about you. That’s why I stopped. Is that the song you added too?”

“Nope. Not that one. Do you still have that notebook?”

She nodded. “It’s in one of the drawers of my desk.”

“Maybe we could play it together,” he said before he looked down.

“It’s embarrassing…” she replied before she opened the door.

“Then I’ll play you one of my old songs written about you. It’s probably more embarrassing than yours. I promise.”

Eren told her before she got out of the car.

Mikasa sighed.

They were supposed to be baring everything. There was supposed to be no secrets between them. She got out of the car, locking it behind her.

“How embarrassing?” she asked him.

“You have no idea,” he told her with a smirk.

-------------------

Hoover Construction and Architecture was who Levi had hired to work in the basement. Bertolt and his father had arrived at the house along with Marco around noon. Turns out that Marco was interning as architect there. They had looked at the basement and future nursery before giving Levi a fair estimate. They were to begin work on the basement on Thursday.

Annie showed up with Armin in tow after lunch.

“You’ll be okay?” he asked Annie as he picked up his backpack.

They had stopped by a pregnancy clinic after their failure with the doctor. Armin had spotted it. The people inside had been extremely nice and understanding. They had helped Annie and Armin find a doctor who would also be just as understanding. Annie had had her first ultrasound. She was eight weeks along.

She had had a breakdown in the car, crying. Annie’s worry had been that maybe there was some secret in her past that had made her parents give her up. An underlying health condition was her worry that she would pass down to her child. She wondered if her parents were alive or dead.

But Armin had reassured her. He had stopped and got her favorite fast food...which she surprisingly had kept down.

“I’ll be fine,” Annie reassured him.

“Don’t worry, Arlert, she’s got the best care anyone could ask for right here,” Ymir grinned as she flung her arm around Annie’s shoulders.

“Oh. I know. Wouldn’t leave her with anyone but family,” Armin smiled.

“Have a safe drive back,” Mikasa told him before pulling on Ymir’s sleeve.

“Thanks, Mikasa,” Armin nodded.

“Yeah, don’t die on us  Arlert. You’re the father of my future best friend,” Ymir said before following Mikasa into the kitchen.

“Are you going to be here this weekend?” Armin asked Eren.

“Dunno yet,” he shrugged.

“Well, Annie is letting me borrow her car. You’re what….a half hour from my university? I can swing by if you want….” Armin trailed off.

“I’ll see. We just added Pieck to the band so rehearsal and stuff.”

Armin nodded.

Eren hugged him which Armin happily returned back. Eren nodded before going into the kitchen.

“You’re sure you want me to take the car?” Armin asked her.

Annie nodded.

“I’m a phone call away,” he reassured her.

She nodded again.

He kissed her.

A kiss that was far too short for either of them.

“Drive safe,” she told him.

He nodded again before leaving out the front door.

Moments later, Mikasa appeared with Ymir and Eren in tow.

"Let's see the ultrasound!" Ymir exclaimed.

Levi came in and brought Annie a cup of tea that he place on the coffee table.

Annie couldn’t help but smile.

-----------------

Pieck Finger has been Zeke Yeager’s best friend for far too long of a time. They loved each other. They had amazing chemistry with one another onstage when they had previously played together. This issue was that chemistry was all an act.

Pieck’s mother wanted that chemistry to be more than an act. Oh, how Mrs. Finger wished for Pieck to marry Zeke. She thought that Pieck and Zeke were the perfect match.

There was a problem with all this.

Neither of them had any romantic feelings for one another.

The two had lived next door to one another when they were children. Pieck always bothered Zeke, he would be reading and she’d make him read to her. He had a very hard time saying no to her, even back then.

They had kissed once, when Pieck had been twenty one and Zeke had twenty six.

“Can I kiss you?” she had asked him.

Zeke had dropped the cigarette he had been smoking.

“What the fuck, Pieck?”

“It’s just...well...I was starting to wonder what it would be like to kiss you.”

“Are you on drugs? Are you drunk? Maybe you should come to my psych class and get your head examined,” he said before he patted her on the head.

“My mom is always saying how we make a good match so I thought we could see if anything there.”

“Didn’t your mom think you should marry Porco at one point too?”

“Yes, well, I did kiss him too. It felt weird.”

“Did you kiss Marcel too?”

“Hmm...no, I prefer blondes. Besides, you’re thinking about what it would be like to kiss me right now too.”

“Well yeah! Now that you brought it up,” Zeke said as he began to turn red.

“So can I kiss you?”

“Yeah, sure. What’s the worst that can happen?” Zeke said before he leaned down

Pieck kissed him.

While the kiss itself was nice, there was absolutely no emotion behind it on either side.

It didn’t last very long.

“Huh, well...” Pieck said, after a moment of silence.

“Nothing?” Zeke asked.

Pieck nodded, “nothing.”

“Are we going to make this weird now?” he asked her.

“No, I won’t. I don’t know about you.”

“Why would I make it weird?”

“You make everything weird.”

After that, their friendship did indeed stay intact. Neither of them made anything weird about it.

Pieck and Zeke both used the fact that they had kissed to run off Yelena when the woman had not got the hint that her relationship with Zeke was over last year.

Pieck had come over to go over some of the more popular songs that the band played.

Onstage and at rehearsal, Pieck could flirt with Zeke and both of them knew it was an act.

Besides, he deserved it.

He would get bored at the office when he had no patients and come bother Pieck at her photography studio. She felt no guilt about her little act since Zeke knew it was also an act.

In a break between songs, they had sat their instruments to the side.

“So, how many times has he texted you?” He teased her.

“Not answering that,” Pieck replied as she sat down on the couch.

“You know...he is friends with Eren…”

Pieck rolled her eyes.

“I don’t know why it bothers you so much.”

“Because he’s five years younger than me and it should have never happened.”

“Which time?” Zeke teased her before he sat down next to her on the couch.

“And you wonder why I don’t talk about these things with you,” she elbowed him.

“Ow! Look, you clearly like him which is why you always text him back. I do not see what the big deal is. There’s five years between us too, you know. You are still my best friend.”

“Too bad you’re not mine,” Pieck said as she stood up.

“You wound me, Pieck!” He clutched his chest in pain.

“Good, you deserve it,” Pieck said as she walked over to her bass, she turned her amp up. She picked it up and played a few notes.

“It’s the Galliard brothers, isn’t it? They are your best friends while I’m left all alone in the cold! Because they live with you and I do not!” He shouted over the music.

So they went back to Zeke teaching Pieck the songs. Afterwards, they had dinner at Zeke’s with Zeke ordering takeout. Pieck was sipping on wine.

“Alright, Spill the details,” Zeke said as he sat down at the kitchen table.

Pieck sighed, “where do you want me to start?”

“The beginning is always good,” Zeke smirked.

“Ugh. Fine…”

And Pieck launched into her story.

----------------

Zeke had a gig tonight and Pieck should have been there.

She wanted to be there.

But no.

Her mother insisted on her coming to this charity event. It was the same cancer that her father had recovered from so she understood the sentiment.

Porco was drunk off his ass, trying to chat up some random blonde. Pieck scoffed at him. He had a type as much as she did.

Reiner was waiting tables. His mother had done the catering here.

Pieck was absolutely bored out of her mind.

So she found Reiner alone.

"Lighter, cigarette, please," she smiled at him.

Reiner sighed before handing them over.

Pieck disappeared out onto the balcony.

The cold air hit her as she lit her cigarette. So she stood there smoking and swirling cheap champagne in its glass.

Then the door opened.

She turned to see a rather good looking man. He stared at her for a moment before he moved to the other side of her. He looked at her and then back down to the ground.

"Are you lost?" She asked him after a moment.

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Are you?"

She took another drag as she cocked her head to the side. "Do you dye your hair?"

"What? No. Do you?"

She laughed.

"Why does everyone ask me that?"

"Because it's two toned."

“It’s just because my roots are darker than the rest of my hair! It’s always grown like that!”

Pieck was amused by his protests.  “So what girl rejected you?”  She asked, poking the bear once more.

“What?”

“I’m guessing you don’t smoke. You seem too straight edged for that. You’re clearly not drunk. So that leaves only a few possibilities. Plus judging from your overall body language and how easily you are to anger, you must have been rejected,” Pieck replied as she took another drag from her cigarette.

“I..I…” he shuttered.

“Point made. See you around,” she replied as she put her cigarette out in the ashtray before heading back inside.

It was several weeks before it was another charity event.

Pieck wasn’t even sure what this cause was, she hadn’t been paying attention as her mother had rambled on.

Zeke was here tonight but only for a few hours. Pieck clung to him as it kept her mother far away. Her father had told her mother many times so just let Pieck and Zeke be. However, her mother lived in a fantasy where Zeke and Pieck would one day get married.

“Take me with you,” she pleaded as Zeke got his coat from the coat check.

“I cannot help but think if I take you with me, your mother will be given false hope. I am only leaving because Eren has physical therapy early in the morning. Besides, were you not just saying moments ago how you wanted to hook up with someone? You cannot do that if you are sitting on my couch eating mint chocolate ice cream and crying over old movies while getting drunk on wine.”

“You know what? I changed my mind. Leave,” she said as she pushed Zeke towards the exit.

He laughed at her as he pulled his coat on. “Alright, bye Pieck. I will see you for lunch tomorrow,” he replied before he kissed her on the cheek.

Pieck kicked him directly in his ass as he walked out the door. “I’m not your child!”

“Then stop acting like it!” he shouted back.

What a strange relationship they had.

This charity gala was more boring than the last one.

She found herself sitting on the steps, awaiting valet to bring her her car.  She saw the blonde stranger she had run into on the balcony at the prior party, walking up to valet and digging through the keys.

“You being valet...no wonder you got rejected,” she teased him.

“I’m not valet. I’m just not waiting for my car,” he replied.

“Let me guess, you drive some economically safe car. It probably plugs in and everything.”

“I really don’t like you. I shouldn’t be surprised. Any girlfriend of Zeke Jaeger’s is someone I’m going to steer clear of.”

“I’m not dating Zeke Jaeger.”

“Okay, I believe you,” he said as he finally grasped the keys he had been looking for.

“So what if I was? Are you jealous?”

The stranger laughed, “dream on. What could I possibly be jealous of?”

“He’s very good looking and doesn’t get rejected nearly as much as you do. By the way, the lipstick stain on your cheek is not your color.”

The valet drove up and Pieck got into her car.

The third time they met, Pieck had been the only one of her friends at the charity event.

Her mother and father weren’t even here. So here Pieck was, representing the whole Finger family on her own.

She had made sure to talk to all the important people as she made her rounds around the room. Until finally, she stepped out on the balcony with the cigarettes she had swiped from Zeke earlier in the day.

To her surprise, the balcony was already occupied. She watched as the blonde stranger made out with a blonde girl. Pieck lit up her cigarette. She wondered why she kept running into him.

“Don’t stop on my account. Nice to see you not get rejected for once,” she replied as she pushed passed them and to the other end of the wrap around balcony, far out of the view of the two lovers.

There was this tinge of jealousy that ate at Pieck. She equaled it to the fact she hadn’t had any sexual or romantic exploits in a while.

So she stood there and smoked.

But what she hadn’t been expecting was for her blonde stranger to come storming over there.

“Why do you have to do that?” he asked her as he swiped the cigarette from her hand.

She stared back at him in disbelief. “Do what?”

“Ruin my night. Every time,” he replied before he took a drag.

Pieck waited for the inevitable cough that came with most people trying to smoke when they hadn’t. It never came. Maybe she had judged him wrong.

“Already done with the blonde?” she asked.

“Turns out she’s not really my type.”

“So what is your type?”

“Do you care?”

“Not really but I’m bored.”

Jean sighed, “Someone who challenges me and I prefer dark hair.”

Pieck didn’t miss the fact that there seemed to be a bit of red darkening his cheeks.

“I prefer blondes,” she replied as she rested her arms on the balcony.

“That’s interesting,” he muttered.

Pieck felt a smile cross her face as she turned and looked at him.  “I’m Pieck, by the way.”

“Jean,” he replied.

And they just stood there in the silence of the night.

Pieck would have been lying if she said that at the next charity event she hadn’t been looking for Jean.

Maybe she had put a little extra effort into her look for the night and maybe she had watched as the groups of people come and go.

And she would be lying if she said that when they did find one another, her heart didn’t speed up a little.

“You want to get out of here?” he asked in a low quiet voice.

She had nodded and the two of them ran past valet and into the parking garage. She had sent Porco a text telling him she had left and not to wait for her. He had replied with a winky face.

There was nothing economically smart about Jean’s car. It was expensive, fast, and a manual. She couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to drive this thing around in the summer with the convertible top down. Why was she thinking that? This was a one time thing.

And they were good until they hit the elevator.

As soon as the doors closed, Pieck wasn’t sure who had made the move first. She just knew he was so ridiculously tall and his hands were tangled in her hair. How his lips made her feel she was high and couldn’t get enough of this.

Then the elevator dinged, telling them that they had arrived on their desired floor. They broke apart but Jean took Pieck’s hand, leading her towards his apartment.

“My roommate is gone for tonight,” he informed her as he unlocked the door.  Once the door was locked behind them, the scene from the elevator repeated.

Pieck told herself the next day that it had been a one time thing.

It wasn’t repeating.

But with another charity event came another chance meeting,

So it repeated.

Then they exchanged numbers.

They started talking, almost like friends.

It was nothing more than sex, she reminded herself and him.

“Now I see why you never bring a guy back here. Your insides were clearly getting moved all around last night,” Porco had smirked at breakfast.

Pieck poured a box of cereal on his head. “You were supposed to be gone.”

“I forgot my charger. Also, you’re buying me more cereal.”

But Porco was right. Pieck had never brought someone back to the apartment.

The more Pieck and Jean talked, the more they realized the things they had in common. He was an artist, like her. Though it was not something he was pursuing, the talent was still there.

“You have paint on your face,” she told him as he sat next to her in the photography studio on the floor.

He wiped her face, only smearing the paint instead of cleaning it off. “Did I get it?” he asked.

“No, you made it worse,” she laughed at him.

He grabbed her face and rubbed his face against her face.

“Your beard is scratchy!” she shouted.

“Thought you liked my beard,” he smirked as he let go. “Especially when it’s against….”

She didn’t let him finish that sentence.

Her lips were on his, silencing him for once. She leaned back pulling him with her as her back hit the floor, never once losing contact as his tongue slipped into her mouth.

There was a clearing of a throat.

Pieck and Jean quickly separated as Zeke was seen leaning in the doorway, smirking.

And that's how it all began.

---------------------

“So what you are saying is you met someone who can hold his own against you but you will not actually be in a relationship with him?” Zeke asked.

“He doesn’t want one either!” Pieck defended herself.

Zeke sighed, “you know this is not going to end well. For either of you.”

“It will be fine. We both know it’s nothing but sex.”

“Pieck, I know that look in your eyes. I have seen it before.”

“With who? I’ve never done relationships,” Pieck said before she took another drink of her wine. “Besides, you said that was fine as long as everyone involved understood it.”

“The problem is...I do not think you understand it.”

Pieck glared at him. “It’s nothing but sex.”

“And when this blows up in your face, I will be here to tell you I told you so.”

“And this is why I didn’t tell you all about this.”

“You did not have to. I walked in on it.”

"Where is Eren by the way?" Pieck asked as she swirled her wine around in her glass.

"At Levi's. Mikasa's father's birthday is Wednesday. He asked if he could stay until after that. I could not deny that request. He has finally stop being fucking stupid. Though now you are. So maybe it is contagious.."

"Hey!"

"I hope Niccolo does not catch it. That will be another mess…."

"I'm going to have another glass of wine and take over your bed if you do not stop."

"I have a whole third story to this house and you have to always kick me out of my bed."

"That I do. Besides, no one goes up there.".

Zeke sighed.

---------------------

When Historia and Sasha returned from work, they both loved the new cars that sat in the driveway.

“Oh! You can finally drive me everywhere!” Historia exclaimed with a smile as she held on Ymir’s arm.

“You’re not mad?” Ymir asked her.

“Why would I be mad? I miss my car, yes but I took the limo everywhere I could. I hate having to always drive.”

Ymir sighed, “you’re spoiled.”

“And that’s why you love me! Now take me for a drive in this thing!”

So Ymir, Sasha, and Historia went out in Ymir’s new car.

That left Eren and Mikasa alone with Levi, Annie, and the dogs at the house.

Mikasa watched as Eren flipped through her old lyrics journal.

"There's a lot of good lyrics in here," he smiled at her.

"Thanks," she replied before looking down.

Eren reading those lyrics were like him reading into her soul. She'd never let him have the whole lyric journal to look through. Some songs were half started and never finished.

An unfinished song….

"Watch the flash drive with me," she said.

Eren's eyes met hers. He swallowed. He opened his mouth before quickly shutting it.

"What….what if you hate me afterwards?"

The question caught Mikasa so off guard. She didn't know how to even begin to respond to that.

"Or worse, what if you hate what I did to the song?"

"I won't," she reassured him before reaching across the bed. She took one of his hands off of the old lyric journal that he was holding and held it.

He squeezed her hand.

He was terrified.

Mikasa had seen Eren afraid before but not like this. Not to the point where he looked like he wanted to run.

"You said I should listen to it. I know you said when you weren't around but you're reading my lyrics. My feelings for you all the way back then. Shouldn't I be able to see how you thought of me?" She asked.

Eren nodded. "You're right."

"And it's probably better to do it right now while it's only us, Levi, Annie, and the dogs here."

Eren nodded again.

"So I'll go ask Levi for it."

Mikasa left.

Eren's nerves are slowly taking him over. It's not like there is anything bad in the song. He wasn't even sure why he sent it. He didn't even know that she was here.

He had ordered the delivery person to make sure to only let Mikasa sign for the package. If she didn't, Eren wanted it back in his possession.

And he hadn't expected her to be there at all.

But she had been.

The song had been a last ditch effort by Eren.

For what?

He wasn't sure.

He heard footsteps retreating down the hall.

A few moments later, Mikasa returned with both the flash drive and letter in hand.

"Give me that," he said as he held his hand. Mikasa handed him the letter.

"Dear Mikasa,

I hope this find you well. The last year has been absolute hell. My drinking finally caught up with me like you always said it would. They took a large portion of my liver. I found out that I'm actually bipolar too. Who knew? I don't even know what this is. I broke your heart a year ago.

I broke everything.

Including myself.

With hope of avoiding hurting you like my dad did my mom, I lost everything.

This isn't a plea for you to come back. It's not even a plea to forgive.

I guess I just want you to understand.

I hope you find someone who treats you right and deserves you. I wish you nothing but happiness. You really do deserve it.

The flash drive in the box included is a song you played for me long ago. I used my band and the video recording I had of you to make it. I made it in garage band so it's nothing fancy.

Love always,

Eren ," Eren read out loud before he held the letter out to Mikasa.

Mikasa pulled her laptop off the desk and onto the bed. She opened the box to see a black flash drive inside. She pulled it out of the box and inserted into the usb port on the side.

The window popped up on the screen.

She clicked on the file.

It was a video.

“I thought you said you used garage band to make it,” she said as she looked over at him.

“Yeah, to make the audio. The video is just at the beginning,” he said before he looked down.

“Okay,” she replied before pressing play.

The video began.

#mmtylif #my writing

[mikauzoran]

Lady Noir/Adrienette: Save Yourself (I’ll Help You): Chapter Two

Read it on AO3: Save Yourself (I’ll Help You): Chapter Two: Self-Help

At some point three years prior, before Adrien became cognizant of his crush on Marinette, he had surreptitiously begun to pay close attention to her. These years of reconnaissance allowed him to quickly pick up on the fact that something was up with his charming friend that Monday at school.

She was fidgety and distracted, obviously preoccupied by something.

Alya and some of the other girls noted her particularly odd behavior, but, when asked what was wrong, Marinette politely waved away their concerns and made excuses.

Adrien let it go that first day. He knew she had a lot on her plate with all of her extracurricular responsibilities. Marinette was rivaled only by Ladybug in her jam-packed schedule and need of multitasking.

When she was noticeably agitated the second day in a row, Adrien caught her as they were packing up to move classrooms, resting a hand on her forearm and giving her a confidence-inspiring smile.

“Hey. You’ve seemed really stressed out the past two days. If there’s anything I can do to help, let me know. Even if you just need to vent, I’m here for you, okay?”

She blinked, blushed, and looked away, smiling weakly. “Thanks, Adrien. I really appreciate the offer. I’m okay, though.”

His own smile faltered slightly because she obviously was not okay, but…if she didn’t want to confide in him, it wasn’t like he could force her.

He nodded, turned up the wattage on his grin, and removed his hand from her forearm. “Well…let me know if you ever change your mind.”

She nodded, returned the smile with one even more fake than his own, and quickly finished packing her books, hurrying out the door as fast as she could without appearing to be fleeing.

On the third day of watching the woman he loved in obvious distress, Adrien could no longer stand by and do nothing.

He packed up quickly and waited for her outside the locker room after school, and when she came out with Alya, he flagged her down, asking if she were headed home.

“May I walk you there?” he inquired, shooting Alya a quick, meaningful look.

Alya promptly remembered that she’d forgotten a notebook she needed back in her locker, literally pushing Marinette towards Adrien as she beat a hasty retreat.

Quick of reflexes, Adrien deftly stopped Marinette’s fall and helped her get steady on her feet.

“I’m going to kill Alya,” she seethed, straightening her jarred purse and backpack as they nearly slipped off her shoulders.

“Forgive her,” Adrien chuckled. “She and Nino have this scheme about setting us up with each other so that the four of us can double date. Goodness knows I need all the help I can get to make you fall for me. Alya is doing God’s work.”

Marinette rolled her eyes, glaring petulantly at her friend’s retreating back as Alya disappeared into the locker room. “Goodness also knows that I don’t need help falling flat on my face, so I think I can do without Alya shoving me.”

“Fair,” Adrien allowed, holding out a hand. “May I carry something?”

Marinette shook her head, hugging her sketchpad closer to her chest reflexively. “No, thanks. I’ve got it,” she assured, starting to head for home.

In the back of her mind, she worried about coming off as rude, but the last thing she needed was for Adrien to carry her books and somehow see the endless doodles she’d been doing of Chat Noir all week as she fretted ceaselessly about him.

Slightly dejected, Adrien slipped his hands into his pockets and followed after her, regretting her brisk pace, fearing it wouldn’t give them much time to talk.

“So…” He cleared his throat as they made their way down the school steps.

She looked back at him and nearly tripped to her death.

Luckily, he caught her by the arms, keeping her from nosediving into the concrete.

Unfortunately, her books and notebooks went flying as she flailed in the seconds before he steadied her.

Once he was sure she wasn’t going to fall, Adrien bent down to gather up her things, only to be stopped as she gasped, “Don’t look!” and rushed to retrieve them herself.

“Sorry,” she added when she came to her senses. “Just…private stuff. I don’t…” She paused to take a deep breath and blow it out slowly. “Sorry I’m being such a spazz today. I have a lot on my mind.”

“Is it anything I could help with?” he offered, holding out a hand to assist her back to her feet.

She shook her head, getting up on her own. “I’ll be fine. Thank you, though.”

He bit the inside of his cheek, debating whether or not to let it go.

“…I’m really worried about you,” he confessed after a moment, unable to hold it in.

She stopped mid-step, turning to face him with a puzzled expression. “…You are?”

“Yeah,” he replied in a hushed tone. “Seriously worried. You’ve been really off all week. I’m not trying to force you to talk to me if you don’t feel comfortable doing so, but…I just want you to be okay, and I don’t think you are, and I’m feeling kind of helpless, so…”

He almost felt bad for forcing her hand, but it was getting to the point where he was worried about Marinette getting akumatized, and that was no good for anyone because how was he supposed to fight against the girl he adored if worst came to worst?

He couldn’t…so he crossed his fingers and hoped he’d be forgiven for being slightly manipulative.

“I’m concerned about getting akumatized over worrying about you,” he told her with a grimace.

Her eyes flew wide in alarm before fluttering rapidly in a series of astonished blinks.

“And, if that happens, I’m scared my akumatized self will come after you because you’re technically the source of my negative emotions, and then you’ll be caught up in things,” he elaborated, “and I really don’t want that. The last thing I want to do is add to your stress, so…”

He worried his bottom lip between his teeth and gave her a pleading look. “Sorry, but…isn’t there anything I can do to help? I’m not asking you to talk to me about your problems, but if there were some way I could feel like I wasn’t so powerless to help you…”

He watched as her surprise crumpled up like a note passed during class into a troubled, thoughtful expression.

“…Sorry for being such a pain. I don’t want to cause problems,” he added earnestly, dropping the act and retreating one step at a time. “Sorry. Forget I said anything, but if you do want to talk, know that I’m always here for you.”

He turned to go, but she caught him, fingers wrapping around his forearm, gripping, holding him in place.

“…Wait,” she called softly, a weary resignation in her voice.

He arched an eyebrow questioningly and waited for her to continue.

She sighed and tipped her head, motioning for him to come with her. “Walk with me a bit?”

“Sure,” he easily agreed and followed as she led him across the street and then past her house to the park next door.

They completed one lap around the square, Marinette deep in thought the whole time. Then, she went and took a seat on one of the park benches, and he sat beside her, waiting patiently for her to give some kind of cue.

She inhaled deeply and, gazing down intently at her shoes all the while, finally spoke. “So…there’s this guy.”

Adrien stiffened, his heart screeching to a halt as his mind called up helpful memories of all the times Ladybug had told him about her mystery boy.

Why was there always some other guy? Adrien wondered bitterly but then mentally slapped himself because of course there were guys in the lives of smart, talented, beautiful women like Marinette and Ladybug.

“A friend,” Marinette clarified. “A really close friend, and I’m worried sick about him,” she sighed heavily, shaking her head, at a loss as to what to do.

Adrien relaxed slightly at the friendship label but didn’t let his guard down as she continued.

“He’s having some trouble with mental health and his family relationships, and I think he’s really depressed.” She looked up from her feet to meet Adrien’s gaze, and it hurt his heart to see the glistening tears blurring her vision. “I’m scared, Adrien, and I feel really useless because there’s nothing I can do to help him.

“It’s complicated,” she explained softly, looking away as if it would hide her guilt as shame turned her cheeks pink. “I can’t be there for him the way a friend should, so…I guess I’m feeling for him what you’re feeling for me. I’ve been agonizing over this since Saturday night, and I don’t know what to do. I know that there’s nothing to do. I just wish I could make it all okay for him.”

She lifted her head once more as she vehemently informed, “Adrien, he’s one of the sweetest, best people I know, and he deserves better than what he’s stuck with. I wish there was something I could do so that he wouldn’t have to struggle so much. He shouldn’t have to.”

Adrien nodded, tentatively reaching out to place a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You’re such a good friend, Marinette. I wish someone would worry about me like that,” he chuckled, but the manufactured mirth didn’t quite make it into his voice. “He’s really lucky. It sounds like you care about your friend a lot.”

She smiled wretchedly, giving a sad little nod as she admitted, “I love him.”

It felt like getting hit with an icy blast of winter air or walking outside without a coat, shocking his system.

His hand froze on her arm.

It took a minute for him to form words, and, when he did, they came out stilted and awkward, betraying his distraction. “Oh. Wow. Uh… That’s… He’s really lucky.”

Marinette tipped her head to the side, frowning in concern. “Is everything all right, Adrien?”

“Sorry.” He forced a smile, cheeks stinging as he blushed. “Ignore me. I was just a little surprised because I think this is the first I’ve heard about you having your eye on someone. I mean, it’s only natural that you would, but…”

His hand went up reflexively to rub at the back of his neck, and he shook his head, trying to clear away his muddled thoughts. He was supposed to be helping her feel better, not having a pity party for himself.

“Sorry,” he repeated softly, sheepishly. “I’m just kind of flustered…and more than a little bit jealous,” he added honestly.

Marinette’s mouth dropped open, and she leaned in to stare at him in shock. “W-Wait. What? Like…what?”

“I thought I was pretty obvious,” Adrien laughed openly at himself, hoping to keep the atmosphere light so that she wouldn’t see his heart breaking. “You really didn’t know I have feelings for you?”

Slowly, she began to shake her head from side to side, speechless in her astonishment as she tried to determine whether or not she was dreaming this entire scenario up.

“Marinette,” he chuckled more genuinely, his voice warm and affectionate. “You’re amazing. Any guy who didn’t fall in love with you would have to be a total idiot.”

She gripped the bench seat to keep herself from tipping over and falling flat in the dirt.

Her head was spinning. How could this be happening? Adrien loved her?

Impossible.

And yet…he was looking at her with such a fond, soft expression in his eyes. It was just like the looks Chat Noir often gave Ladybug, so… Maybe it was real.

Her lips parted to respond, to confess her own feelings, but Adrien cut her off.

His eyes widened in alarm, and he gave a start, jolting back and putting up his hands in defence. “…Oh, but, I mean, I totally support you! With this guy. If he’s the one you love…. I support you,” he rushed to assure.

Marinette blinked, mentally reeling from the whiplash.

Did he love her or not? She wasn’t entirely sure now, if he weren’t willing to fight for her. His affections couldn’t be that strong if he was okay with giving up so easily.

“More than anything, I’m your friend, so I don’t want my feelings for you to get in the way of that or make things weird between us,” he explained, desperate for her to understand. “So, if you have to pretend that I never said anything, that’s totally fine. I support you. Whatever makes you happy is the most important thing.”

She had to pause to consider before responding. Her thoughts were so twisted up like a ball of writhing serpents battling to consume one another.

“Thank you, Adrien. That’s so sweet, and it’s seriously not a problem,” she promised, reaching out and placing a hand on his forearm. “We’re fine. Everything’s fine…. Honestly, there’s nothing for you to support. Things aren’t going to work between me and my friend, so…thank you, but nothing’s going to happen between us.”

Adrien’s eyebrows gradually pulled together into a V of concern. “Is it…because of his mental health situation?”

Marinette recoiled, staring at him in stupefaction. “What? No! No, of course not! Nothing like that. He’s amazing, and I’d be more than willing to stay by his side and support him through his struggles. He’s worth putting in the hard work for.”

Adrien’s stomach stopped clenching, and a faint hope welled up in his chest. If things weren’t going to work out between Marinette and this other guy, maybe Adrien still had a chance. Maybe she could see past Adrien’s struggles and still care for him too.

“So…what exactly is the problem, if you don’t mind me asking?” he pressed gently, chewing nervously at the inside of his lip.

She looked away, frowning down at her knees. “It’s…complicated.”

Adrien arched an eyebrow. “Is he gay?”

It was the only reason Adrien could come up with why a guy wouldn’t want to overcome all obstacles to be with Marinette.

Marinette chuckled softly, shaking her head. “No. He’s bi, so…”

She looked back up at him, scrutinizing his face, evaluating his trustworthiness. “…I’m going to tell you a secret.”

He scooted in closer, nodding that he was ready. “I won’t tell a soul.”

She glanced around, scanning the area to make sure they wouldn’t be overheard before she lowered her voice, whispering, “It’s Chat Noir.”

Adrien blinked slowly, uncomprehendingly. The words meant nothing to him.

Seeing his confusion, Marinette elaborated, her cheeks turning cherry blossom pink as she confessed, “My friend, the guy I’m in love with…it’s Chat Noir.”

Adrien’s brain crashed, and it took him a good ten seconds to reboot.

His initial inclination was to laugh hysterically because finally his love was requited, and he couldn’t have asked for a better romantic partner than Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

His mind next trotted off to construct a detailed plan of all the ways he was going to make her happy and spoil her rotten.

It then occurred to him that he needed to tell her his identity, but then he decided to table that idea because Ladybug would be furious, and he wasn’t sure how Marinette would react.

He also wasn’t so sure that this was the best time to reveal his identity because Marinette was convinced that things wouldn’t work between them. She was also currently upset…because of him.

“You’ve been worried all week because of Chat Noir?” Adrien breathed as his brain came back online.

She nodded meekly. “I…Yes. He’s having a rough time, and I’m worried that there’s nothing I can do to help him. I’m not doing a very good job as his friend.”

Adrien rolled his eyes, wrapping his arms around Marinette and pulling her into a fierce hug.

“You’re doing amazing,” he whispered into her hair, wishing he could express how much it meant to him, knowing that her skylight door was always open when he needed a safe space to escape from his life.

He may not have confided in her before about how bad things were because he was afraid of burdening her and scaring her away, but all the times when she’d allowed him to hang out on her balcony or in her room, all the times she and her parents had strong-armed him into making dinner and eating with them once they’d found out he ate alone most meals, all the times she’d saved pastries for him and Plagg…

Chat Noir might not have let Marinette see how dark it was inside of his mind, but she’d always been there to help right when he needed her. She’d gotten him through many tough times, even if she’d never known it.

He pulled back to look her intently in the eyes. “Marinette, I’ve seen you two together before, and Chat Noir is crazy about you. Trust me. I can tell. If you love him and he loves you, why can’t you two be together?”

“Adrien, he’s a superhero,” Marinette snorted, rolling her eyes as if the problem were obvious.

“So?” he scoffed right back. “You don’t think you’re good enough for a superhero or something? Marinette, Chat Noir is the one not good enough for you. Stop being humble and date him already.”

“I’m not being humble,” she returned saucily. “I’m being practical. I can’t date a guy whose identity I don’t know.”

“Then let him reveal his identity to you,” Adrien suggested matter-of-factly. “You’re making this more complicated than it needs to be.”

“I am not,” she protested, crossing her arms indignantly. “It’s too dangerous for me to know his identity.”

“How so?” he argued. “All you have to do is just not tell anyone that you know. Don’t get caught kissing Chat Noir, and no one will be the wiser. No one’s going to think twice if you start dating his civilian self.”

She pursed her lips, trying not to see his point. “What if I get caught up in an akuma attack and get brainwashed into revealing his secrets?”

“Chat Noir has been mind-controlled countless times, and he hasn’t given away his secret identity yet,” Adrien continued to stack solid argument on top of solid argument. “If you don’t tell anyone you know who Chat Noir is, Papillon won’t know to come after you. You’re perfectly safe so long as you keep your mouth shut. I think you can manage that, Marinette.”

“What if there’s a truth-telling akuma?” she tried in one last-ditch attempt.

He frowned at her in mildly annoyed disappointment. “Has there ever been a truth-telling akuma? In the past three and a half years?”

She averted her gaze, her lip pushing forward into a pout.

“No. No, there has not,” he answered his own question triumphantly. “See? I’m not going to say it’s perfectly safe for him to reveal himself to you, but the risk is small enough that I feel comfortable with you taking it. Don’t you think he would be worth it?”

“Of course he would be worth it,” she replied in a small, tired whisper. “It’s just…it’s complicated, Adrien.”

“It’s really not as complicated as you’re making it,” he sighed, gently cupping her cheek and tipping her head up to make her look at him. “Marinette, you’re a wonderful person, and you deserve happiness and love. Why won’t you let yourself have this?”

Her lips slowly moved into a self-deprecating smile, and she shook her head sadly. “I’m afraid that I really am a masochist who doesn’t allow herself to have nice things.”

It was like a foggy pane of glass shattered between them at her words, and Adrien flashed back to Ladybug sitting on the roof of Sainte Chapelle saying the same thing Saturday night.

He couldn’t breathe.

“What…did you say?” he choked as the pieces slid together: Ladybug’s insistence that Chat go to Marinette when Ladybug couldn’t be there for him herself. Marinette’s claims that things were complicated between herself and Chat Noir.

She shook her head again. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

His Lady, his Princess…the same person? Could he be so lucky?

Her brow pinched into a frown as she registered his expression. “Why are you grinning like that?”

“Because I love you,” he chuckled giddily, rendering her utterly speechless.

She found that she literally couldn’t remember how to make her mouth, brain, and vocal cords work in concert to form any kind of reply, so she just sat there, parting and closing her lips like a drowning fish.

“Hey,” he called softly, slipping his hand into hers. “I really need to talk to you. It’s important,” he emphasized. “Could we please head to your house so we can talk undisturbed?”

She tried to speak, but it came out sounding like a collection of gibberish syllables, so, instead, she nodded and got to her feet, leading him back to her house and up the stairs to her room.

He had to let go of her hand in order to file up the narrow staircase, and, by the time they reached the attic, Marinette’s brain was once again semi-functional.

She took a seat on her chaise longue and motioned for him to sit anywhere he liked, urging, “Make yourself comfortable.”

“I’m good standing, thanks,” he assured. “I’m actually feeling kind of jittery, so…do you mind if I pace?”

“Uh…go right ahead,” she encouraged, watching as he did indeed start to walk back and forth across her carpet. “…You said that you needed to talk to me?”

He took a deep breath and let it out as a sigh, “Yeah. Yeah. I did. I do. I…”

He bit his lip, rubbing at the back of his neck as he tried to get his harried thoughts in order. “I’m not sure you want to know, but I feel like I have to tell you. You’re not going to be happy, but this isn’t something I can keep from you.”

He stopped and turned to face her. “Honestly, I’ve kind of been in a dark place lately, Marinette.”

Her eyes rounded, pupils dilating in fear for yet another one of the most precious boys in her life going through a hard time.

“I’ve been feeling pretty down,” he confessed. “I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to bother anyone or make them worry.”

“Adrien, we’re your friends,” she scolded, fighting back a whirlwind of emotions.

Hurt that he hadn’t trusted her, frustration that he thought so little of himself and how much he meant to them.

“Worrying about one another and supporting each other is what friends do,” she stressed, hands going to her hips. “When you need help or just someone to listen to you vent, you come to us. We will always be there for you.”

His lips quirked into a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry. I know. I just…have self-esteem issues. But I’m coming to you now, so…better late than never?”

Her expression softened, and she pushed herself up, going to him and wrapping him in a loose hug. “Oh, Adrien…you idiot.”

He rested his head against hers, muttering, “I was also afraid to talk to you about it because I was worried about ruining my chances with you. I know I wouldn’t want to deal with me and all of my insecurities and hang-ups. I couldn’t imagine someone as epic as you picking someone like me when you could do so much better.”

“Adrien,” she cooed, pulling back to meet his gaze with an abundance of sympathy and affection. “Don’t…say things like that. There are so many amazing things about you.”

“That’s what Plagg said too,” he chuckled softly.

She blinked, her brain not registering. “Plagg?”

He nodded. “Saturday…I told Ladybug about how lost and alone I’d been feeling, and she told me to come talk to you…so here I am.”

Marinette’s jaw dropped as she struggled to make sense of what she was hearing.

Saturday night, Ladybug had talked to Chat Noir, not Adrien, so…

Her lungs seized, cutting off her breath.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered like a chastened child waiting to be struck. “I know you didn’t want to reveal identities and that’s why you sent me to Marinette instead of trying to help as Ladybug, but…I think the cat’s out of the bag, My Lady.”

To her credit, Marinette did not faint. She would have liked to because, if she were unconscious, she wouldn’t have to deal with reality right away, but she remained in full control of her faculties and, thus, had to attend to the matter at hand in real time.

“I need to sit down,” she announced, heading back over to the chaise to compose herself.

Adrien followed nervously, taking a seat beside her without infringing upon her personal space. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

She waved away his words, shaking her head. “No. No. It’s fine. I…This is my fault. I knew you could potentially figure out my identity every time I had Chat Noir over to watch movies or play video games. I knew I was taking a risk.”

She turned to look him in the eye. “If I had the chance to do it all over, I wouldn’t change anything.”

“Oh,” he whispered, dazed as she leaned in and pressed her lips to his cheek, smiling softly.

“I don’t regret anything except not being able to be there for you more,” she added, making his heart swell. “But now we have to sit down and figure out what to do about this catastrophe now that we’re here.”

He arched an eyebrow, echoing, “Catastrophe?”

She nodded. “I mean…you know my identity. We’re in grave danger, Chaton.”

Deep furrows gradually dug their way across his brow. “Are we actually, though?”

She blinked, taken aback.

“Is this really the end-of-the-world scenario you think it is?” he pressed. “Like what I was saying earlier, if we don’t advertise that we know, why should Papillon target Marinette and Adrien more than any other Parisian?”

Marinette opened her mouth to argue her point but then closed it again when she realized that she didn’t have any good rebuttals to make.

“That’s why I’m always so careful when I come over here as Chat Noir. I don’t let myself get spotted coming and going so that I don’t tip anyone off to the fact that you’re important to me and could be used against me,” he explained, scooting in a little closer on the chaise. “If no one knows we know, how are we in danger?”

She pursed her lips and thought hard, trying to come up with a way to refute his logic. “…But what if there’s a truth-telling akuma?” she inquired weakly, knowing the feeble argument wouldn’t hold water.

He cupped her cheek in his hand and swore, “I would literally die before I betrayed you.”

Her heart cracked open at the very thought, and tears started to stream down her face.

“You die too much already,” she whispered, looping her arms around his neck. “I don’t want you to die…. I love you.”

He didn’t protest as she leaned in and pressed a butterfly’s wing beat of a kiss to his lips.

“Okay,” he chuckled, resting his forehead against hers. “No dying. We’ll figure something else out, but it’s going to be okay, Marinette. No matter what, we’ll get through this together.”

“Promise?” she hummed, a gentle smile lifting the corners of her lips.

“Promise,” he affirmed, inching forward to steal a more substantial kiss.

When they broke apart, there was a question in his eyes. “…Me being Adrien doesn’t change the way you feel about me, does it? You said you loved Chat Noir, but…”

A scarlet flare lit up her cheeks and spread across the bridge of her nose as she finally confessed, “You know the mystery boy I’ve been pining after since we were thirteen?”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Yeeeees?”

“His name is Adrien Agreste,” she giggled.

He burst out laughing. “You have horrible taste in men.”

She slapped him playfully on the arm. “You have horrible self-esteem. That’s the real problem here. I only fall for the sweetest, kindest, most thoughtful guys. I have impeccable taste.”

“…You really think so?” he sought to verify, amazed that such a thing could be true, that such a woman could want him.

She nodded, gaze earnest. “You don’t give yourself enough credit, Adrien. We’re going to have to work on changing that.”

“Is this a team effort thing now?” he hummed, delighted by the prospect.

“Absolutely,” she confirmed…but then the air of teasing left her. “…I’ve been really worried about you since Saturday. If there’s anything—anything—I can do for you, please let me know. …What do you think I could do to help?”

He chewed thoughtfully on the inside of his cheek for a moment before answering. “…I don’t know, really. You’ve done so much already for me as Chat Noir just by giving me a warm, safe, place to go when I need to escape. I feel bad asking for more.”

“Don’t,” she urged. “It really is fine, Adrien. Earlier, you said that you wanted me to be okay, didn’t you? That’s how I feel about you too, so don’t ever feel bad for asking.”

Slowly, he began to nod as comprehension dawned upon him. “…Oh….”

She gave him an encouraging smile and squeezed his hand. “Yeah.”

Blushing, he looked down at their joined hands. “Okay. Well…I’ll have to let you know as I think of things, but…I don’t know if there’s a whole lot you can do. I think a lot of being mentally healthy starts and ends with me, so…I think I have to do most of the work myself.”

“But you can still let me know if there’s anything I can do to support you,” she reminded.

He nodded. “Yeah. You’re right. …I will. I think mostly I just need someone to talk to about things.”

“You can talk to me whenever you need to,” she assured. “I mean, I hardly sleep, so you can call or text whenever.”

He frowned at this. “I think maybe we need to reevaluate your self-care behaviors while we’re at it. I’ve always known that Marinette had a crazy hectic schedule full of stress and deadlines, but now that I know you’re juggling a side gig as a superhero on top of everything you do as Marinette, I’m kind of worried.”

She averted her gaze, sticking her lip out in a pout. “I liked it better when we were focusing on you.”

“I’ll bet you did,” he snickered. “Just know that this is a two-way street. I’m here for you too, Marinette.”

She dropped the pout and looked up at him with a soft smile. “Thanks…. I think you should talk to Nino about how you’ve been feeling lately. Maybe Alya too, if you feel comfortable talking to her, but definitely Nino. He’s going to freak.”

Adrien winced. “Yeah…. Yeah, I know. I just don’t want—”

“—Don’t you dare mention being a burden or bothering him,” she warned. “Nino would be insulted. He loves you literally as much as he loves his brother, if not, more.”

“Yeah,” Adrien sighed, sufficiently cowed. “I’ve just been too scared to say anything.”

She hesitated before continuing, “And…you know…maybe we could go see a therapist?”

He raised an eyebrow in surprise at the suggestion. “A therapist?”

She nodded tentatively. “I know I’m awesome, but I’m only seventeen, Adrien. There are a lot of things that I’m completely clueless about. I’ve looked into psychology a little bit to help me deal with akuma victims, but I’m not an expert. I was just thinking that maybe talking to a counselor would be helpful. Maybe they’ll think of things that could help that we would never come up with on our own.”

“That’s true,” he allowed, considering the idea.

“I don’t know,” she sighed. “I just know that there are a lot of times where I think, ‘Man, I wish I had an adult to help me out with this’. Most of the time I’m completely on my own—besides you and the others and Tikki, I mean…. I was just thinking that this is maybe one time where we don’t have to go it alone. Maybe an adult can help.”

“I’ll think about it,” he granted. “It would be hard to see a doctor without my father finding out, and he isn’t going to like this, but…it’s a good idea,” he agreed.

“Good,” she sighed in relief, leaning into a languid, exploratory kiss that Adrien was more than happy to return.

They broke apart a few minutes later with a contented hum and stared dreamily into each other’s eyes.

Suddenly, an idea occurred to Adrien, and he gave a start.

“Stupid question,” he announced hesitantly.

“No such thing,” she assured, wrapping her arms around him more snugly.

“Are we dating now?” he warily inquired. “Sorry. Do I need to ask you out still? I mean, I assume we’re on the same page because we both said that we loved one another, and we’ve been kissing, so one would think that we’re dating, but I just wanted to make sure because I’ve never done this before, and I’m—”

“—Adrien?” she cut him off gently.

He tipped his head to the side. “Yes?”

“Will you go out with me?” she asked so that there would be no doubt in his mind as to what she wanted.

“Yes,” he responded breathlessly, and the joy in his eyes made her heart melt.

“Good,” she chuckled. “For our first date, would you want to have movie night tonight? We could snuggle on the couch and make cookies together.”

He surprised her by saying no.

“That can’t be our first date,” he whined. “It’s not romantic enough. I’ve had our first date planned for years, Princess. There have to be rose petals and candles and mood music. We’re supposed to eat at this amazing restaurant and take ballroom dancing lessons and then have a rooftop picnic as we watch the stars and snuggle. We can’t have a night in as our first date,” he argued.

She stared at him with a deadpan expression, debating whether it would be damaging to their nascent relationship for her to face-palm.

“My boyfriend is a high-maintenance dork,” she sighed.

“Hey,” he pouted, and she could almost see his ears and tail drooping despite the fact that he wasn’t transformed.

“All right,” she relented. “If we don’t call it a date, would you like to hang out and snuggle and watch movies and bake cookies?”

“Definitely,” he easily approved but then thought to add softly, in a slightly hurt tone, “I’m not silly, you know, for wanting my first date with the woman I love to be everything I’ve ever dreamed it would be.”

“No,” she agreed, reaching up to stroke his hair lovingly. “I’m sorry. You’re not. You deserve to have the first date of your dreams. I shouldn’t have scoffed, even if it is a bit more…” She searched for the word, came up with “over the top”, and decided against voicing it. “…more than I had in mind,” she ended conciliatorily.

“I love you, and I want you to have nice things,” she assured, earning herself an affectionate nuzzle from him.

“Thanks,” he whispered. “That means a lot to me.”

She then did something she knew she would later regret as a show of her love for him: “You can plan our first date,” she offered. “Whatever you want it to be. Go wild.”

The way his eyes lit up at her giving him free rein confirmed her fears…yet, the pure joy in his expression made her think that, if a crazy rom-com-cliché-filled date was the price of his happiness, it was well worth it.

The End

#Lady Noir #Adrinette #Adrienette #Miraculous Ladybug #Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction #Adrien Agreste #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Chat Noir #Ladybug #Identity Reveal #Fluff #Hurt/Comfort #Friends to Lovers #Love Confession #Talking #Honesty #Mikau's Writings #Save Yourself (I'll Help You)