#They are both girl bosses and girl fails simultaneously | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

addictedtostorytelling · 3 months

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hi aj! hope you're doing well ❤ i always love your theories and interpretations and i was thinking... what do you think grissom and sara's story would have been like if grissom had not stayed her supervisor, back in season 1? like if sara had indeed come to vegas but he did not remain her superior at work. do you think he'd have acted on his feelings sooner than he did in canon? thanks ❤

hi, anon!

thank you for your kind words! i'm so glad you enjoy my work. i hope you're doing well, too. ❤

re: your question:

so, to me, the fact that grissom and sara do eventually have a romantic relationship for two+ years while he is still very much actively her supervisor suggests deference to that particular rule is never really a main issue in keeping them apart in the beginning.

grissom's behavior during s5/s6/s7 insinuates: had he otherwise felt ready to date sara during the first four and a half years she lived in vegas, he likely would have done so (albeit perhaps in secret), department policy be damned.

grissom might list the "but i can't! i'm her boss!" excuse when he is attempting to rationalize to himself why he shouldn't act on his feelings for sara, but at the end of the day, that's all that it is—an excuse.

when he finally works through his real hang-ups that are preventing him from having that relationship, he no longer allows his employment status to hold him back at all.

he dates the fuck out of that girl while he is still giving her annual performance reviews and signing off on her overtime requests, and, honestly? he seems relatively unfussed about doing so.

he is not so much of a rule-follower as to lose sleep over flaunting department policy.

that so, i don't think it's necessarily a given that removing that specific impediment to their relationship would get grissom and sara together any faster than is the case in canon, not unless he also simultaneously were to overcome the real obstacle that is holding him back from giving in to his heart anyhow—namely, his fear of rejection.

see, for as much as grissom points to the department policy forbidding romantic relationships between members of the same forensics team as the or at least a main reason why he shouldn't romantically pursue sara, in reality the thing that really holds him back from jumping in with both feet with her is his deep-seated fear that her love for him is conditional/impermanent.

he fears that despite sara wanting him now, she may not always in the future continue to want him—and especially not once she "draws back the curtain" and gets a full view of him, including his (what he views as) egregious personal flaws.

before sara moves to vegas, her view of grissom is an incredibly limited one, and he is highly aware of this fact. she only gets to see/interact with him in person at conferences and over long weekends, and their communication outside of those brief intervals is otherwise relegated to phone calls, emails, and letters; insulated, as it were, by distance and time.

with 500+ miles between them 99% of the year, she doesn't possess the kind of up-close vantage of him that might allow her to otherwise recognize his (as he opines) numerous failing points and deficiencies of character; she only has access to an idealized version of him—“conference grissom,” who has only to refrain from making a fool of himself in her presence for just a few hours or days at a time before he can retreat back to his safe and secluded everyday life (without her) across state lines and regroup before their next fleeting encounter.

for as long as grissom only interacts with sara on such a limited basis, he is fairly confident in his ability to keep her interest. after all, it's easy to put his best foot forward for such modest periods of time, and particularly when he is "in his element" attending conferences or breezing in for short, romantic visits.

however, once grissom—somewhat impulsively—invites sara to move to his city and join his forensics team, he no longer has that barrier of distance to shield him.

now sara is living and working every night in close proximity to him, and suddenly he has to be "on" in her presence all the time.

she's seeing him not only bathed in the limelight of conference stages but under the dingy, unflattering fluorescents of their shared place of work, oftentimes in fraught and stressful situations.

even far more socially-adept persons than he would have a hard time consistently impressing under such high-stakes circumstances, so considering his (in his view) numerous deficits where the interpersonal element is concerned, he can't help but worry that sooner or later, he is going to do something to slip up and shatter her illusions of him as this charming, romantic, mature man-about-town, instead showing himself to her for what he really is—a misanthropic, socially-awkward old fogey who has never been in a long-term romantic/sexual relationship in his life.

of course, for as fearful as he is that once she sees the "real him," her attraction to him will evaporate, he can't (because he is still ultimately in love with her) 100% keep himself from getting close to her all the same, which is why, even once she begins working for him, he still flirts with her and shows his attraction to her and even occasionally makes her backwards declarations of love, all but in spite of himself, never mind that he ought to probably rein in that kind of behavior if he wants to keep things strictly platonic between them.

however, for as much as he does blur the lines, he does still try to split the difference by keeping their interactions relegated to the workplace.

he won't allow himself to "cross the threshold" and take her home with him—not when he supposes that if he were to do so, she would finally see everything he is trying to keep hidden from her.

even with her "just" being his subordinate and working with him every night, she is still observing more of him than he truly feels comfortable with, but at least there are some boundaries/parameters; at least most of what she's observing is located within the realm of the professional.

if he were, however, to have a relationship with her outside of work, then those last barriers would be gone, and she would have access to everything—and the idea that she would terrifies him.

his great nightmare is that if he were to choose to throw caution to the wind, break those departmental rules, and commence a romantic relationship with sara, sacrificing his career and professional reputation and familiar lifestyle in order to do so, the center would not hold.

she might stay with him for a few weeks or months or even years if he were lucky, but in his opinion, it is inevitable that someday—once she realized what she had really gotten herself into with him—she would leave him.

and then he would ultimately end up with nothing—neither the career he sacrificed for the girl nor the girl herself.

he assumes he is so unworthy of sara—too old for her, too misanthropic, too "dark inside," too inexperienced in love/sex, too insufficiently human, etc.—that there is no way she would want to remain with him forever.

she would put up with him for a while, until she got wise to just how many failing points he has, and then she would book.

and he knows he wouldn't be able to cope when she did.

losing her once he has had her would absolutely break him.

so that's the actual major reason™ why he holds back from being with her for so long—because he figures it's somehow easier never to have her than to have her only to subsequently lose her.

he's preempting what he views as the inevitable rejection by not putting himself into a position to be rejected by her in the first place.

can't reject what you don't have, right?

now.

the way i see things, grissom only gets to the point where he is ready to be with sara once he finally conquers his fear of rejection and a) realizes that sara's love for him is in fact unconditional, all of his flaws notwithstanding, and, b) comes to understand that his care for her well-being outweighs any fears or trepidations he had regarding his own.

in canon, he reaches those particular watermarks only after the gsr emotional roller coaster that is their s3/s4 arc, circa the events of episodes 05x12 "snakes"—when sara confirms to him (in so many words) that despite all of his missteps with her over the years, she does still love him and want to be with him—and 05x13 "nesting dolls"—when he is finally posed with the choice that for four and a half years he has been avoiding, namely to play things safe and prioritize his career over sara yet again or to put it all on the line her, and he at last chooses the latter option.

getting back to your original question, then: would grissom not being sara's boss cause him to get together with her any sooner?

not necessarily.

not just by itself, per se.

but let's say him not being her boss leads him into circumstances where he arrives at those emotional conclusions sooner than he does in canon.

well, then the answer to your question might be yes.

so with all of the above in mind, i've got an example of a scenario where i think grissom not being sara's boss might result in him getting together with sara sooner due to the way it would influence the events of the canon timeline.

conjecture after the "keep reading," if you're interested.

okay.

so this scenario is just one of multiple possible scenarios that could work to give non-supervisor grissom that emotional push he would need to pursue a relationship with sara early on.

it hinges on how grissom not being promoted to night shift supervisor in episode 01x01 "pilot" might affect the course of events in the episodes immediately subsequent.

now.

i of course understand, from a storytelling perspective, why the events of the first three episodes of csi transpire in the way that they do.

from a narrative perspective, the writers very much wanted to start the show with an earthshaking event—with the team dynamics being reshuffled and grissom (the main character) getting thrust into a leadership role he doesn't either want or feel prepared for; with everyone experiencing "growing pains" as they adjust to a new normal.

that's fertile ground for storytelling. there's lots of narrative tension in a situation like that one and many opportunities for character development to be had.

that said, there are some parts of those initial three episodes that are not particularly believable just from a "that's not what would probably happen in real life" standpoint, namely:

in real life, brass most likely would not lose his supervisory position at csi and be reassigned to homicide without there being any kind of departmental investigation into his conduct and leadership surrounding the events of the shooting (and especially not before holly gribbs had even actually died).

in real life, grissom, who had never actually expressed interest in a supervisory position, much less applied for one, most likely would not have been automatically and permanently promoted to the role of night shift supervisor following brass's demotion, and especially not without the department running any kind of official hiring search (even just nominally) beforehand.

in real life, there would have almost certainly been an internal affairs investigation into the entire debacle, with focus placed on both brass's and warrick's conducts.

in real life, it most likely would not have been grissom's sole purview to investigate warrick's conduct (or to bring in sara to do so as his proxy).

in real life, it most likely would not have been grissom's sole purview to decide, once said investigation were concluded, if warrick kept his job or not—and particularly not in light of the fact that in sara's official report on warrick's conduct, she does find him negligent.

in real life, most likely, warrick would either have lost his job or, at the very least, been served a lengthy suspension and faced with other (not insubstantial) disciplinary action.

in real life, while it is not completely impossible that grissom could fully hire sara in less than two weeks' time*, it is still somewhat of a stretch to imagine that he could; more likely, it would take him somewhat longer to complete that process (and get all of her background checks, drug testing, fingerprinting, onboarding paperwork, firearms and lab safety proficiency certifications, departmental training modules, tax forms, etc. completed).

in real life, again, while not completely impossible, it is still somewhat unrealistic that sara quits her job at the sfpd and moves across state lines to start her new job with the lvpd all within less than two weeks.

* the events of episode 01x02 "cool change" take place on approximately 10.16.00 within the universe of the show, while the events of episode 01x03 "crate n' burial" take place on approximately 10.29.00 within the universe of the show.

show canon compresses/truncates/fudges all of those processes for the sake of moving the story along and also allows grissom a lot more power to make unilateral administrative decisions regarding his team than in real life he would be likely to have, working at one of the biggest, most prestigious, most bureaucratic state crime labs in the country.

so looping back around to our au, let's imagine a scenario where things happen in a somewhat more "true to life" way than they do in actual show canon.

let's say that instead of being immediately reassigned to homicide in the wake of the gribbs shooting, brass is instead placed on administrative leave pending an investigation into his conduct and leadership.

meanwhile, grissom is made acting pro tempore shift supervisor in his stead.

internal affairs immediately launches its own investigation into the circumstances of the shooting, with focus placed both on brass's and warrick's conducts and potential culpability.

warrick is also placed on administrative leave pending investigation.

grissom, in his pro tempore role, does not have the authority to launch any kind of official investigation into the circumstances surrounding the shooting. however, knowing warrick as he does, he already has a hunch about what might have happened. realizing that the internal affairs investigation will move "at the slow speed of government," he decides to get out ahead of it and find out for himself what happened. he therefore brings on sara as a consultant, having her examine warrick's conduct on his behalf in a more unofficial capacity.

essentially, what he wants her to find out for him is how likely it is that once everything is said and done warrick will lose his job.

as is the case in canon, grissom also reaches out to sara on a more subconscious level because she is the one thing during this otherwise very turbulent, distressing time that makes him feel at all safe, and he wants to keep her close, like a human security blanket.

sara conducts her investigation and quickly determines, as is the case in canon, that warrick abandoned holly gribbs at her crime scene in order to go place an off-site sports bet. she submits her report to grissom, giving him the heads up that if ia's findings are similar to hers, then there's a good chance warrick will not emerge from the situation professionally unscathed.

she then returns to san francisco.

but.

since she is now personally involved in the case and has seen up-close how it is affecting grissom, even once she leaves las vegas, she and grissom remain in almost constant contact, talking on the phone for hours after every shift, with him updating her on the latest developments and her emotionally supporting him through what is still a very difficult time, while he is temporarily in charge of what is now a severely understaffed and emotionally compromised forensics team.

if you think catherine and nick are taking all of these developments in stride, they are very much not™.

though his typical mo is to play things close to the chest, during this period of extreme upset, grissom almost can't help himself but to open up to sara. on their calls, he finds himself word-vomiting revealing very intimate things to her and allowing himself to be candid and vulnerable in ways that normally he might never be. he expresses his frustrations with the department's handling of the case to her—don't they realize that by suspending warrick, they've now made it so the team is technically down two criminalists instead of just one?—and his regrets concerning gribbs's demise. he starts to really rely on sara and unveil himself to her, including his doubts and trepidations regarding himself as a leader, especially in such emotionally fraught circumstances as these.

letting her "see him" in all of this emotional nakedness is terrifying to him at first, but what he is pleasantly surprised to find is not only does she not judge him for expressing what he views as his own weaknesses but she also has this uncanny ability to build him up and know just what to say to validate and encourage him. the advice she offers is patient and sound, and her perspectives are simultaneously logical and compassionate. she always seems to know just what to say and just how to help him, even from afar.

he had already felt very close to her from the first time they met, but now it's like they've unlocked this new level of intimacy.

their conversations branch out from just the gribbs situation into other areas of their lives. sara even starts to disclose things to grissom about herself that he had never known before.

not her whole life story but hints of it, more than she had let on in the past, certainly.

eventually, grissom starts to get the idea that maybe sara is just as lonely as he is, and, especially considering how much she has done for him recently, he finds he wants nothing more than to find a way to cure that loneliness for her and truly make her happy, becoming fixated on the notion.

we could maybe even throw in a "sara's having troubles in san francisco and is no longer loving her job at the sfpd" subplot to up the ante here, if we wanted.

as the days wear on, grissom longs to have sara physically near to him always.

for the first time, living 500+ miles away from her really begins to smart.

maybe at some point when grissom is at his lowest during the course of the investigation, sara hops a flight and shows up in vegas during a rare two day-off period for her, without him even asking. her anticipation of his needs and the fact that she is just there for him (at a time when he is not feeling great about himself) means more to him than he could possibly say.

they end up sleeping together (which is something they may or may not have done previously, depending on one's pre-vegas headcanons for them) and eventually one or the other of them drops the l-word and the other one immediately and wholeheartedly says it back.

it all but breaks both of their hearts when at the end of 48 hours, sara has to fly back to the bay.

finally, after several weeks of investigation, the internal affairs team clears brass of any wrongdoing surrounding the shooting, as it becomes evident that warrick essentially "went rogue" and contradicted brass's direct orders for him to supervise holly gribbs.

brass is summarily reinstated as csi night shift supervisor, at which point grissom resumes his role as csi night shift assistant supervisor.

as sara predicted, ia does ultimately find warrick negligent in his conduct surrounding the shooting.

and who knows? maybe if they took their time and did their due diligence, they might also uncover the fact that judge cohen was blackmailing him.

and honestly? if we're going for total realism here, i think warrick would almost certainly lose his job.

however, given that we like warrick and don't want him off the team, let's say that rather than being fired he instead is served with a lengthy suspension, barred from his impending promotion to csi level iii, subjected to various disciplinary actions, and required to attend 90+ gamblers anonymous meetings and some number of peap counseling sessions prior to reinstatement, at which point he will still be on probation.

so all said and done, the team is still down two junior criminalists, though they are probably only allowed to hire for one position (given that warrick is technically still employed at the lab, albeit serving a protracted suspension).

while of course they want to hire a replacement for holly gribbs as quickly as possible, they are still a government agency and can't cut corners in the process, so they open up an actual hiring search.

grissom and sara discuss the possibility of her applying for the job.

however, since they by now both fully consider themselves to be "in a romantic relationship" (and have every intention to move in together should sara indeed transfer to vegas), they're uncertain what to do regarding the department policy forbidding romantic/sexual relationships between members of the same forensics team.

maybe at this point grissom talks to catherine and/or brass about the issue and they help him to come up with a workaround much like the one ecklie suggests to grissom in canon in episode 08x02 "a la cart," where to keep the whole spouse/partner hire thing kosher, they can set up some very specific rules to prevent grissom and sara from "unduly influencing" each other while working on the same forensics team.

maybe grissom ends up stepping down even from his assistant supervisory position, ceding it to catherine (as he has never really cared about having administrative power anyway).

maybe the new protocol is that grissom and sara are not allowed to work cases together unless there is another csi level iii overseeing them and running point on the investigation.

maybe they'll be subject to random case reviews by internal affairs.

maybe they both have to meet with hr and fill out lengthy disclosure forms at the start of every fiscal year.

in any case, let's say they find a way to make it work.

so sara applies and gets the job and moves to vegas with grissom. somewhere along the way, she would still have to tell him fully about her past—which would, of course, be a whole thing™ unto itself—and there might still be a few hiccups as they learned how to blend their lives together and communicate their feelings in the interim.

that said, i think if things happened this way, it would serve much the same effect as the events of episodes 05x12 "snakes" and 05x13 "nesting dolls" do in canon, just on an accelerated timescale and without grissom being sara's boss: namely, grissom would learn that sara loved him unconditionally, and he would also start to prioritize making her happy (and find that doing so made him happy in the process). he would make any and all necessary changes to have her be part of his life.

now.

how things might go with brass and catherine being in charge of the shift and grissom and sara having an "out" romantic relationship from the get-go as early as 2000, i can't say. certainly, the whole trajectory of the show would change, but it's unclear in what specific ways that it would or what the ultimate outcomes of these major changes to the team's composition might be.

as mentioned above, of course, there are potentially other scenarios than this one that we could imagine where grissom not being sara's boss might result in them getting together as a couple sooner; still, i think, for the most part, however said scenarios were constructed otherwise, they would almost universally have to involve similar emotional beats, where grissom learned to both trust in sara's love for him and choose his love for her over his fear of potential rejection.

i also think that it would, for the most part, be less the case that grissom not being sara's boss was the thing that cleared the way for their relationship in itself and rather that him not being her boss would alter the way certain events played out from how they do in canon, such that grissom and sara ended up on a different emotional learning curve than the one they have in canon altogether.

it wouldn't be a deal where grissom would go, "yay! i'm not your boss! let's date!" (because that obstacle was never the only one holding him back from being with her anyway). instead, the real change-maker would be how events transpired differently in the au based on the fact of this major detail being altered.

anyway.

those are my thoughts!

thanks for the question! please feel welcome to send another any time.

#answered #anon #asks: csi #**#my meta #meta: csi #meta: grissom #hypothetical scenario #let's talk shop #csiverse

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uwuwriting · 3 years

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Zoom meetings with the kids w/ Kuroo, Akaashi and Sakusa

Request: I have been stuck inside the house with my three year old brother for the last three weeks and he keeps coming inside my room and entering the zoom call with me. So that had me thinking. How would our favorite Haikyuu dads Kuroo, Akaashi, maybe Kenma or Sakusa react to their toddlers coming into their room and joining their meeting. - anonymous.

Awww I love haikyuu dads!!!! I have begun making the smau and I’m already like 3 chapters in but I won’t start posting until I’ve finished it or I’m about to finish it. I wanna be sure that I’ll have a trustworthy upload schedule lmao bc my midterms are coming up next week and I’m dying. Love ya. 💖💖💖

masterlist

rules

warning: fluff

Kuroo Tetsuro

-He was in a meeting with the firm for the past three hours.

-He was absolutely exhausted and the only thing he wanted was to take a nap with his two year old daughter.

-You were still at the hospital, your shift finishing in about two hours so he was basically alone.

-Your daughter was playing with her toys in his office, being as quiet as she could but exhaustion started to win her over little by little.

-Yawn after yawn left her lips but since the sound was so small and barely above a whisper, Kuroo hadn’t realized that his little princess was tired.

-Standing up with wobbly legs she grabbed her cat blankie and rubbed her eyes as she slowly made her way to her father.

-With one arm hugging her blankie and the other wrapping around Kuroo’s leg, she rested her head on his leg and slowly sank down to the floor, not tugging at his pyjama leg as he expected.

-Looking down at her he didn’t think twice before bending over and bringing her into his lap.

-She let out a small sigh before she clutched his shirt in her small fists and was off to dreamland in record time.

- “Kuroo-san what do you think?”

- “Sorry my daughter distracted me.”

-And with that he went back to his meeting.

-Throughout the rest of the meeting Kuroo rested a hand on her back, cupping her little head lightly rubbing soothing circles on her skull, staring down at her every now and then a smile adorning his features every time he saw her nuzzling into his chest.

-She was a female version of him now that he thinks of it.

-She had his crazy raven hair and stunning amber eyes while her face structure reminded him of both you and him.

-Her personality though was all you.

-He knew she was very young but she reminded him of you when you two first met more and more each day.

-Right at that moment she let out a small yawn again, her eyes opening slightly as she repositioned herself on his lap and went back to sleep.

-He couldn’t love her more, at least that’s what he believed.

-Each day she proved him wrong.

-Saying goodbye to his coworkers he shut off his computer and went to the living room couch, laying down with his little girl in his arms.

-Giving her one last kiss he fell asleep, a smile still present on his features.

Akaashi Keiji

- “The author said that those new chapters need to be edited by the end of the month. He will send you the rest when you are done with these.”

-His eyes were bloodshot from the endless hours he had been staring at his screen.

-Rubbing his eyes he answered every single question that was thrown at him, wishing that this one would be the last one.

-But the universe wouldn’t have it that way for poor Akaashi making him stay up late again.

-Thunder rumbled from outside and he wondered whether or not you had taken your son to bed with you.

-The four year old boy was terrified of storms from a young age, always looking for comfort in either you or Akaashi.

-But ever since his sister was born he pulled away from you two, he didn’t ask for help anymore even when he needed it and he didn’t wake you up during the night when he had a nightmare.

-Akaashi was amazed to say the least.

-Neither of you had said anything to him about how your attention would mostly be on the baby and you guys had never dismissed his needs because of your little girl.

-It worried him how fast his son closed in on himself.

-He was already a shy and quiet kid but now you barely heard his voice and it broke both of your hearts.

-Akaashi was determined to help him get out of this phase and be by his side but this assignment took up more of his time than he would’ve liked.

-Light danced across the room as the door slightly opened but no one stepped in.

-Keiji was about to stand up when he heard little sniffles and the light pitter patter of feet on the carpet of his office.

-And soon enough his son rounded the corner of his desk, one arm wiping away tears as the other clutched the stuffed owl his uncle Bokuto had bought him.

-Without losing a beat Keiji pushed his chair back and brought him in his lap, giving a small apology to his boss before momentarily turning off both camera and mic.

- “I’m sowwy.”

- “Shh I’m here, nothing’s gonna hurt you.”

-Giving him a kiss on each cheek Akaashi let him snuggle in his chest, a strong arm supporting the toddler while simultaneously making him feel safe and protected.

- “Sir, I’m sorry to interrupt but could we end it here? My son had a nightmare and I want to calm him down.”

- “Of course Akaashi-san, give my regards to the little man. Goodnight.”

-And with that the meeting was over and Akaashi was left with a crying child in his arms.

- “Hey hey, I told you that nothing’s going to hurt you while I’m here. Why don’t we go sleep with mommy hm?”

- “I’m sowwy…”

-Akaashi kissed his head again bringing him into a tight hug as he got up from his seat.

- “There is nothing to be sorry for now come on, mommy would want cuddles.”

Sakusa Kiyoomi

- “If we use the new quick that Atsumu and Hinata have been practicing then we would have the upper hand momentarily.”

-Kiyoomi let out a sigh as the meeting he had with the team would not seem to end.

-They had been discussing tactics for the last hour and a half while the rest of the time they had been informed of the new managers they had been assigned.

-Kiyoomi never expected to be in a zoom call while being an athlete.

-He thought that it would be useless.

-What were they even gonna do while in the meeting? Practice?

-But he was proven wrong once the coach called the first meeting and now Sakusa was ready to pull his hair out.

-Thankfully he was just laying in bed so at least he was comfortable.

-You had gone out for some much needed grocery shopping leaving Kiyoomi with his son, not wanting to take your child outside with the virus contaminating people left and right.

-Sakusa loved spending time with his son.

-He was a low maintenance child, just like he was when he was young, adopting the same hygiene patterns as his father even at the early age of two.

-He had just started talking and you wouldn't stop having conversations with him, the baby only uttering a simply “dada” or “momma” or even maybe a “yes” or “no” if you were lucky.

-It made you happy though, seeing your son slowly becoming more independent.

-Sakusa was also happy but he was also reminded that he wouldn’t stay this young forever; before he knew it his son would be off to high school or college and he wouldn’t fit in his arms anymore.

-Lost in thought Kiyoomi hadn’t seen the toddler make his way into the room until he felt the covers being pulled as he attempted to get on the bed *and failed bc he’s just too short*

-Letting out a chuckle Sakusa pushed his laptop to the side and leaned down to grab his son, who was now pouting an expression that was a little too similar to yours.

- “Is that mini Sakusa I see?”

-Kiyoomi ignored Atsumu as he settled his son on his lap letting the baby wave at the camera as his “uncles” waved back.

- “Do you mind if he joins?”

- “Of course not, every Sakusa is welcome.”

-Giving his son one last kiss on his head, Kiyoomi went back to listening to the boring tactics letting his son play with his fingers in the process.

-Okay maybe it wasn’t that bad now

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shreddedparchment · 3 years

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Spa Day

03/04/2021

Pairing: Clark Kent x Reader Word Count: 7,559

Warnings: language, depression, past abuse, emotional abuse, fluff

A/N: I wrote this because I have been feeling pretty down on myself. It’s pure self indulgence to make me feel better. I hope it will help someone else and if not, I hope you at least get a smile or some entertainment from reading it. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

You’re awkward, walking in. Feeling out of place.

This place was for special people. Well, people who mattered.

You’re not sure how you got the voucher. It all happened so quickly.

One minute you were sitting in Mr. Wayne’s office, twiddling your thumbs to expend some nervous energy as you awaited your firing then the next you were being shoved out his office door with a gentle but firm hand at the center of your back.

Mr. Wayne had smiled, his face relaxed and amused.

“It expires soon, so use it tomorrow,” he’d said.

“I work tomorrow,” you’d resisted, no intention of losing a full day’s paid work.

“Take the day. On me. Full pay,” As you opened your mouth to protest again, he quickly lifted his hand to silence you politely and tacked on, “There’s no use arguing with me. Now enjoy it or you’re fired.”

He’d shut the heavy wooden door in your face leaving you standing there, stunned. At a loss to think up a reason to not come here today but obviously you’ve failed seeing as you’re here.

“Good morning!” A young woman with soft to the touch looking blonde hair smiles at you from behind the modern pale wooden counter. The white marble top shines in your eyes.

“Hi. Morning,” you sputter.

“How can we help you today?”

She’s so nice. So polite. Professional. This place is super expensive looking. There’s a crystal chandelier behind you at the center of the small lobby space. Chic sofas line the wall behind you, large pots with dragon trees growing tall add a splash of color to the otherwise sterile and plain gray walls.

Despite its minimalist decor, the office exudes money.

You’re almost at the brink of following the impulse that wants to turn you towards the tinted glass door, but before you can make your escape, the receptionist’s kind voice interrupts you.

“Oh! You have one of our platinum vouchers! Lucky you,” she smiles, genuine in her glee. “Shall I take that?”

She holds out her hands, both of them and waits for you to place the thick and shiny ticket-like paper in them.

Quickly she gives it a read, turning it over and then placing it under a UV light by her computer. An image shines out from under the purple light of a shimmering diamond right at the center of the ticket.

“You’ve got the works. Was it a gift?” She looks up at you, not intending to insult you but you can’t help but feel a little stung by her assumption.

You can’t really blame her though. You reserve all of your best outfits for work. Casual yet distinguished pantsuits and skirts with matching tops or jackets.

Today you’ve chosen a simple floor length skirt. It sits snugly around your waist and hips. Your t-shirt, a simple graphic tee with the words “Touch the Radley House YOLO” printed in bold black letters.

“Uh, yeah,” you admit to the girl, wishing she’d just sign you in and let you go about your day. “My boss gave it to me.”

“Lucky, lucky. You must have a really nice boss,” she admires.

“Well, I lost his company nearly a hundred million dollars and he didn’t fire me, so…” you trail off, still lost as to why Mr. Wayne had been so adamant you take some time off and why he’d been so understanding about the Ronson account.

“Oh,” the girl says, blinking a few times as she tries to process what you just said. “A very nice boss then.”

Her conclusion brings a small smile to your lips because truthfully, Mr. Wayne is very kind. You’ve never heard him berate an employee and he’s usually only tough on his business associates. Members of his board and investors. Like Mr. Ronson.

If he wasn’t so out of your league, you’d even consider maybe letting yourself really look at him. He’s hot for sure, but he always seems so preoccupied. Like he has something he’s trying to keep buried.

Nice, but he has secrets. No one’s perfect.

“Well, we’ve got you all booked in. What you’ll want to do is head in through that door on your right, walk halfway down the hall and the lounge room should be there to your left. Someone will come and escort you to your first experience.”

You observe her vernacular. Every word she speaks is rehearsed and probably scripted to a certain point.

“Thank you,” you give her another small smile, still feeling out of place but a little more at ease.

“Enjoy!” she calls as you cross through the heavy wooden door.

It swings shut behind you silently, a soft hiss at it latches.

The hallway before you is just as simple yet chic as the lobby. The colors are less neutral, a calming turquoise with a black base and a thick silver stripe lining the center of the wall at about waist height.

The doors are pale wood, smooth to the touch. You pass several of them as you make your way to the lounge.

Inside the door to your left at the center of the hall you find the lounge room. Which actually turns out to be a locker room. Smaller than what you would have thought with only about fifteen lockers that look more like small safes. Each one has a digital keypad, a fingerprint reader, and an iris scanner.

“Sheesh…” you observe but pick one and move over to it to set up your passcode, fingerprint, and scan your eye so that you can come get your stuff when your day of relaxation is over.

Inside the locker you find a neatly folded outfit wrapped in sanitary plastic. Completely sealed.

Just in case you’re wrong about this being a spot where you can change, you look for a designated changing area but don’t find one.

With no other choice, you place your purse and keys inside the locker, then slowly begin to strip. Shoes, skirt underwear go into the locker but your nerves don’t let you remove your t-shirt just yet. Untucked from your skirt, it’s easier to tell that it’s intentionally oversized.

After another quick anxious look at the door you’d come in through, you hook your hands into the base of your shirt and pull it up...just as the door opens and a large clearly male body steps in.

You gasp, whirling around in surprise to reclothe your breasts.

Cool air blows against your bottom as your shirt also twists with your movement, but you reach back and yank it down.

“Oh, I am...uh, didn’t see anything?” The voice is deep, smooth. It puts you at ease even though you literally just exposed yourself to a complete stranger.

“No, no. It’s fine,” you tell him, voice strained with embarrassment. “It’s my fault, I didn’t know if there was a separate changing room. I just...didn’t see any.”

“Oh, um...it’s the door right across the hall. But you know what? I’ll actually just step right outside and let you finish.”

That’s so nice…”You don’t have to, I can just-”

You turn around to look at him, keeping your hands on your shirt to pull it down. One at the front. One behind.

Simultaneously, though you don’t notice, both your and his jaw drop.

It takes both of you a moment to find your voices and while he speaks, your mind is busy taking in his massive size.

He’s thick. Muscles bulking through the should-be loose wrap top he’s wearing. Like yours it’s a soft peach color, the same diamond shape you’d seen on your voucher under the UV light etched into the right breast.

With the top he wears loose pants, or somewhat loose around his knee and down to his ankles; there’s a pair of charcoal slippers on his feet. His thighs, like his arms and chest strain against the clothes he’d been given.

It’s clearly too small. You wonder if maybe this place doesn’t carry the outfit in his size. It’s very possible, considering his girth.

“Miss?”

His slightly concerned expression brings you back to yourself, now flustered because he’s caught you gawking at him.

“Sorry, I’m-you just surprised me and my brain’s a little-what did you say?”

“I’ll just step outside,” he doesn’t wait for you to respond as he backs up to the door then pulls it open and disappears through it, closing it gently behind him.

“What the hell was that?!” you gasp, angry at yourself for staring.

He’s hot! You couldn’t help it. He also looks familiar, though you can’t place the face. How you could possibly forget a face like that you have no idea.

While you change, you think about the smaller things you’d notice.

His hair is dark. Black. Curls that are carefully kept in place with hair products. His skin is a perfect pale peach. Not so pink as the clothes you’re pulling on, but it falls under the same shade. There didn’t seem to be a single blemish from what you were able to see.

A small tuft of chest hair had been peeking out of the V of the top. His face had been perfect, yes, but kind. There was a gentleness in it. The small curve of a smile had played on his rosebud pink lips. Not thin. Not thick. They were perfect.

He was perfect.

And those eyes...so blue. Like a clear spring sky. So bright and observant. There’s no way he didn’t catch you staring. Shit.

You note as you shove your underclothes into your locker out of where he might see them, that your own outfit for this spa leaves even less to the imagination than what must be the male uniforms.

Where the handsome stranger had pants, you were given very small shorts. Little more than boy short underwear in length. Parts of your bottom were threatening to overflow.

The top, while similar to the one the stranger wore, also came with a bandeau given the unique look of being wrapped around your chest when it so clearly is just one piece. You were expected to wear this underneath the looser wrap top.

Pulling it shut, you’re still tying the top closed around your waist as you hurry to the door where the stranger must still be waiting.

You open it...but he’s gone.

Disappointment floods through you. Surprising you.

You have no reason to want to see him, but you suppose you had just wanted to apologize for the awkwardness.

With a sigh you shut the door and move back to your locker to shove the rest of your belongings in just as a kind looking young woman no older than the receptionist at the front desk comes in with a smile.

“Are we ready for the diamond experience? You’re a very lucky lady!”

Even though you’re still only halfway sure you even want to go through with this whole thing, her excitement is catching and you find yourself nodding and scurrying after her as she shows you down the hall for your all expense paid spa day.

~~~~~~~~~~

You aren’t used to relaxation.

Not to this degree.

A gold facial? Full body exfoliation with sea salt and Indian kama oil? A rain massage which consisted of you being massaged with several different clays as warm water is cascaded down your body? An herbal bath with murky green water that leaves your skin feeling fresh--like mint but for your skin?

It’s too much!

You’re four hours into your spa session and you’re so sleepy you might pass out in this next one.

As you’re escorted by the same young lady who has been tending to you from the beginning, she opens the door of a long room, the outer wall of which is made up of endless glass panels that catch the rays of the sun.

As you step in, you’re assaulted by immediate drowsiness as your entire being is engulfed in slightly sticky heat.

This isn’t a sauna. It won’t make you sweat buckets. But it makes your skin dewy and your eyes droop.

“Oh, wow,” you gasp, suddenly wanting to run before you can collapse to the floor in unconsciousness.

Your escort laughs, “The hot room has that effect on all of our guests. Come, it looks like we’ve got a spot free over at the far end.”

Along this wall of glass, there are lounge chairs with soft cushions grouped in twos, separated by a lattice waterfall panel that tinkles pleasantly as it empties down into a bed of soft pebbles. On the table at the head of these seats is a pitcher of water, glasses, and a set of small handheld fans that one can use to cool off a bit in the heat. Just in case it becomes too much, you guess. Though you can’t imagine it will. The heat isn’t oppressive. Just consuming.

It’s everywhere but it’s not choking or frustrating.

“I hope you don’t mind if we put you next to one of our other single guests? Most of our diamond packages are used by couples, as you can see.”

Your escorts gestures at the chairs as you pass them and sure enough, every seat is taken with couples hiding behind large potted fan palms.

“No, I don’t mind,” you answer in single, as if you have any choice. “How long will I be in here?”

“An hour or so? If you’d like to exit early, there is a small button on the table by your lounge. Press it and I will come take you to your next experience,” she looks back and smiles at you.

You notice that you pass three spots without lounge seats and wonder silently why some of them have been removed. At the end of these empties is where the escort stops. A set of lounges in the very last spot against the wall.

“Here you are,” your escort smiles. “If you need anything, just give us a call.”

“Thank you,” you smile at her and squeeze between the potted palms.

Slightly nervous, you look for your unintended partner and gasp at the Adonis you’d thought you’d lost.

The sound draws his attention and his expression shifts from stoic concentration to soft smile, “Hey, it’s you again.”

It takes you a moment to find your voice because you’re too busy gawking again.

He’s not wearing a shirt or pants. That is, he’s wearing shorts. A lot longer than yours, reaching about the top of his thighs, but still short. Like briefs. It gives you a good view of every single muscle in his long legs and you suddenly envy anyone that’s ever had the privilege to ride that thigh.

What the fuck am I thinking?! You give our head a shake and try to focus on his face as he waits. It’s only a second too late.

“Yeah, hi. Sorry, I-” you avert your eyes and quickly take a seat in your own lounge chair to his left, keeping your eyes on anything other than the mass that is his chest.

Just as you’d thought, it’s covered in a mouthwatering line of chest hair that trailers down onto his stomach and makes an ever so subtle trail down, down, down...down...down…

He chuckles, “It’s alright. It’s only fair you get a good look too, right?”

You’re not even processing what he’s saying, unable to focus for a bit.

“You’re here alone?” It’s more an observation than a question but you answer anyway, grasping at the distraction.

“Yes,” you nod. “A gift from my boss.”

“Me too,” he turns a little in his seat so that he can look at you, but adjusting his angle so that he can still keep his legs up, one propped up as he rests his elbow on his knee. The other stretched out before him.

This draws your gaze back to him and you’re able to pay attention this time and ignore his very distracting body.

“Oh?”

“I mean, not my boss, but it was a gift from a friend. He thought I could use a nice relaxing day.”

The way he says it, sounds like you’re not the only one saddled with what you perceived was a burden or at the very least, a waste of time.

You grin, “Mine too. My boss. I saved the company I work with from a scandal and his idea of repaying me was to give me a spa day. A raise would have been more than enough.”

“Tell me about it,” the man says, smiling with stunning pearly whites.

His smile is gorgeous and you’re enamored again by how sweet he looks.

How can someone look like he can tear the head off a rhino and still look so adorable? It can’t be fair.

“Rent keeps going up and my job doesn’t pay nearly enough to keep up. At this rate I might end up having to move back to the farm.”

“Oh,” you reply lamely, piecing together where he might have grown his sculpted figure. Farm work can be grueling.

He gives you a look, assessing your response then waves his hand gently as if to swat away his complaint, “Sorry, don’t listen to me. I’ve got it better than most. You don’t need to be hearing about my problems.”

“No!” you rush to assuage his worry. “No, it’s okay. That sucks about your job. Is there no chance at a raise?”

“Not exactly, I have a uh, a hobby that keeps me from taking more work and I kind of get paid by assignment. I have a flat salary but working extra would definitely help with the bills.”

“What do you do?” you wonder, trying to picture this guy doing anything other than just looking like a God in a spa.

He could be a bodyguard? They get assignments. Construction? Personal trainer?

“I’m a journalist,” he tells you, speaking matter-of-factly as if it makes perfect sense.

You blink, then chuckle and then laugh once.

“What?” he asks, amused and smiling again as you chuckle. “What’s funny?”

“Nothing,” you shake your head. “It’s just, journalist is not where my mind went.”

He doesn’t seem surprised but he also doesn’t say anything else.

The two of you lapse into silence. It’s not uncomfortable and at least you don’t feel like you need to say anything to fill the dead air.

Twenty minutes pass and you lean back in your chair to relax, sighing lightly and smiling at the immaculate aura that this stranger seems to emanate.

It’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt before.

The longer you lay there, suddenly not sleepy at all, the more your curiosity grows. Turning towards him, you find him already looking at you.

This startles you but in a good way. You smile and the soft curve of his lips breaks into a full toothed smile.

Both of you move your lips to speak, but before you can either of you get a word in a rustle of palm leaves pulls both your attentions behind your seats.

You sit up, twisting a little to look at who’s come, expecting to see your escort or some other spa staff.

Instead you find a woman you’d spotted laying in another spot with who you’d thought was the other half of her couple. Her waist-length auburn hair clings to the skin of her bare shoulders and sides. She’s removed her top, leaving her in her bandeau.

“Hi,” she says to your stranger-wait not your stranger. Shoot.

He looks confused but not unfriendly, “Hello.”

“My friend finally talked me into coming over and talking to you,” she informs him.

“I see,” your-the stranger says.

The girl seems to be expecting something but the stranger just looks up at her expectantly. Awkwardly.

He looks at you and you quickly turn away from their conversation, pushing yourself to the end of the lounge to sit with your hands holding onto the edge, feet flat on the ground.

You try not to eavesdrop but they’re right there.

“What did you want to talk to me about?” he asks her, sounded polite but not uninterested.

You can hear the woman shifting from foot to foot, probably pushing her hips from side to side. Her figure is nice. Not like yours. She’s attractive, in a conventional way. In a magazine accepted way.

Your mood sinks the longer you ponder on this random girl and the stranger. There’s an endless string of disappointments that have built you into this person you are.

Insecurities made worse by words spoken by people that should have supported you or those you thought were on your side. Affections misplaced. Kindness taken advantage of. Betrayal. Worst of all the betrayal. Some small. Some big.

You know that you should be less shaky in your self worth. You know that you’re more than the words spoken and the actions taken that brought you to this point. But how do you turn it off? How to fight the thoughts that bring you down?

It’s not something you can do all at once. You know this. And yet feeling bad about yourself makes you feel guilty because you know it’s bad and that makes you feel worse. It’s an endless cycle.

You’re fully wallowing in your own self-pity before the girl even has a chance to answer the stranger’s question.

“Well, I noticed you came by yourself and I was wondering if maybe you wanted to have dinner sometime? Or maybe coffee?”

You don’t dare turn back, you just resign yourself to a lack of luck and stare out at nothing even though the view is really nice.

“Thank, I appreciate the offer, but I’m not looking for a date right now, I don’t really have the time,” the stranger says, giving her a diplomatic response.

Letting her down without letting her down.

“Oh, well,” there’s a beat of silence. “In case you change your mind, here’s my number. Call me, if you find some time?”

You hear her retreat and the soft shift of what must be a business card against the wood of the table behind the stranger’s chair.

Movement shifts in your periphery and you see that the stranger has moved to the end of his own lounge, mimicking your pose though he’s much bulkier and takes up much more space.

“That was weird,” he says, a small puff of air passing between his lips as he huffs a laugh.

“Why?”

“Well, she just came up to me, out of nowhere,” he clarifies.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not the first time that’s happened to you.”

The stranger seems to pick up on your mood shift, his face etched with concern as he tries to lean forward, head tilted a little as he strains for a better look at your face.

“Actually, that never happens to me,” he says. A lie?

“How about you?” he checks, probing gently to see if he can get you to talk.

“No. Never.”

“But you’re so-”

“I’m nothing,” you interrupt, the words an automatic response as if you’ve been hypnotized into saying those words exactly. A trained response.

The silence is no longer comfortable, but thick and heavy.

“Why would you say that?”

“Because it’s true. I’m nobody.”

It hurts to speak these words aloud. Words that have hurt you in the past. Words that have cut you time and again. Scars left behind by those people that should have loved you but didn’t.

“No one is nobody,” the stranger counters.

He watches you, observing.

You don’t like the front row seat he has to your wallowing. You try to pull yourself out of it but the hole just keeps getting deeper.

“I’m sorry,” you sigh, stealing a quick glance at him.

He’s still got his head tilted a little in pure concentration as he watches you, brow crinkled with focus.

It’s not judgement though, just intent. You can tell he’s really listening and it makes your heart flutter. No one has ever listened to you before. Not like this. Not with a deep desire to understand like he does.

He shakes his head, “Was it the girl coming over?”

You look away, feeling embarrassed, “She reminded me of someone I knew. Someone I dated.”

Nodding, he indicates that he’s listening.

You smile without humor, hurt by the memory, “He thought I should look like her. Or...he didn’t say exactly like her, but he said he wished I looked better.”

He frowns, his deep dislike for your story honest, “He doesn’t sound like a nice guy.”

“No, he wasn’t. He wasn’t like, evil or anything, but yeah. Not a nice guy,” you admit, accepting that in that case, it was definitely your boyfriend’s problem.

“But that’s not it?”

You look at him.

“There’s more to it?” he guesses.

You look out at the scenic view finally, not really seeing it but appreciating the colors at least.

“This spa day?” you begin, stealing another glance at him.

He turns to sit facing you, his elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped as his listening intensifies.

“The only reason I got it was because as I said before I saved the company I work for from being dragged into scandal. I also lost a bunch of money by losing the client but my boss was pretty pleased.

“But the only reason I even touched the account was because I was sorta forced to?” Is that the best way to describe what happened?

“How were you forced to deal with that account?”

“Well, I’m not exactly the best with making friends? I mean, I have had friends before. I just--I got really sick a while back and I lost most of them because I cancelled on plans a lot or I didn’t have the energy to maintain contact? Even texting felt like such a chore. Just the act of responding and-I guess they thought that I thought being friends with them was a chore, and that wasn’t it.

“I just couldn’t find the energy to try to do anything. Some days I wouldn’t even eat because I’d have to get up and make myself food and I barely got up to go to the bathroom much less make a meal.

“Anyway, I just kind of gave up and they did to and now, I don’t really have an in with people? I don’t say much and it’s not that I don’t want to talk, I just don’t have anything worth saying. Or maybe I just can’t think of anything? I don’t know. But it affects work relationships too.”

“How?” he asks.

You take a deep breath, looking down at your hands clinging to the edge of the lounge before releasing it slowly.

“It’s really just me getting in my feelings,” you shrug.

“What you feel is what you feel, even if you don’t think you should. Our pasts can affect us well into our futures.”

His encouragement helps, and you feel a little less vulnerable to share with him.

“I work in the PR department. There are six of us in total. We’re a pretty big company. Multinational big. So there’s one of us for every form of media. Since we all work for the same clients, bridging the gap, we usually spread the workload evenly.

“Or, the other five members of my team do. Sometimes they just forget that I’m there and I usually get stuck with the leftover work. I’m not one to complain, so-” you shrug. “But they forget me for other stuff too. Company dinners. Competitions for prizes in the office. Secret Santa. Stuff like that.

“It makes me feel alone.”

You chance a glance at him, and he’s still watching you but his eyes are far away for a bit as if he’s remembering something.

“I know how that feels,” he nods. “I’ve felt alone almost all my life in some ways. Luckily, I’ve made a few friends to help me see things a little differently but that loneliness will never really go away.

“I understand.”

You smile, feeling more and more at peace again with him. Calm, like he really does get it.

He responds to the shift in your expression by relaxing his own. A small crinkle forms at the corners of his eyes, a subtle curve of his lips.

Now that you’re both feeling a little better, you can admit to yourself that you were jealous. Not just because the girl was everything that you were made to think you should be, but because this stranger, gorgeous as he is, is so nice.

He’s sweet and you want that in your next partner. You want to have someone care about you genuinely. You’re a little ashamed of wanting to claim him. Do you even dare entertain the thought?

“Yeah, I think you probably do,” you smile wider, turning in your seat to face him like he’s facing you.

“Now that you know all about my depression, would you like to know my name?” you ask him, teasing a smile.

He smiles more freely, “On a first date? Isn’t that moving kinda fast?”

Your stomach tumbles, heart sprinting at his words.

“A date?”

He only smiles wider, your heart stuttering before taking off at double speed again.

You tell him your name and then bite your lip, unable to believe your good luck.

“What about that other girl? You told her you weren’t looking for a date,” you wonder.

“Well, how can I be looking for a date when I’m already on one? Besides, how many girls do you think I can come across before I find another one wearing a shirt about my favorite book again?” he asks, all sincerity.

“Your favorite book is to Kill a Mockingbird?”

His smile is blinding.

“It’s really nice to meet you,” he nods, reaching out to shake your hand. “My name is Clark. Clark Kent.”

You take it and almost faint as your head goes dizzy at the soft touch of his skin.

The veins of his forearm bulge as he squeezes gently but he doesn’t actually shake it and instead seems to just hold your hand.

“Wait, I’ve seen your editorials before. You work at the Daily Planet.”

“I do,” he nods.

Your stomach suddenly falls, jealousy raking up along your ribs to settle around your heart to make it ache.

“Aren’t you dating Lois Lane? I thought-you two went to one of my boss’s parties together.”

It had been so long ago. Months and months. You remember Mr. Wayne going on about his friends Clark and Lois. You hadn’t met them, but Mr. Wayne had left to greet them when they’d arrived.

Clark’s own face falls just a tad, a small melancholic shift but it’s not deep. He keeps his smile, though smaller, and nods.

“We broke up last year,” he confesses, still not releasing your hand.

His thumb grazes against the back of it, sending goosebumps up from that point to spread along your arms and the rest of your body.

“I’m...not sorry?” you laugh, unable to help yourself because how can you be sorry about it now?

Clark also chuckles, “You know, right now, suddenly I’m not either.”

Before you can think of something cute to say, your stomach gurgles loudly, announcing to anyone close enough to hear that you’re hungry.

“Oh,” you utter, embarrassed as you finally take your hand back to rub your belly. “Sorry, I guess I haven’t eaten in a bit.”

“They have a menu here, I’ll grab us one.”

He rises and is gone before you can stop him and holy hell does he have a nice butt.

Watching him leave, you contemplate the way he used the word “us” so casually and wiggle with the pleasure it gives you.

As quick as you can, you look for any reflective surface and settle on the window across from you on which you can barely see yourself.

It’s enough though and you quickly go about fixing your hair which is surprisingly not bad even after all the treatments you’ve undergone.

A soft voice calls your name, the young woman who’s been escorting you.

“Hi, are you ready for your next treatment?” she smiles at you politely, kindly even, her body slightly bent down so that she won’t speak too loud and disturb the other people enjoying the hot room.

“Oh, um...I’m actually super hungry and I was going to order something to eat?”

The idea of being taken away to somewhere that you can’t be around Clark devastates you. You haven’t been this into anyone in so long.

“Oh okay! What would you like to order? Did you get a menu?”

The young woman gestures over her shoulder as if asking if she should go get you one.

“Actually-” but you don’t get to explain because Clark suddenly steps up to loom over both of you.

He doesn’t mean to, you don’t think, he’s just so big and he kind of naturally just looms.

“Hi,” he greets her kindly, and she flushes.

You can’t blame her. She takes a step back to put some space between herself and Clark and she’s seriously flustered. He’s hot.

Clark squeezes back by and sits himself in his seat before opening the paper menu and leaning towards you to give you a look.

You read through the choices quickly and nothing looks too crazy.

“Ooh, this one looks good,” you tell him, pointing down at the bottom of the menu.

“Should we get that one?”

“Yeah!” you reply eagerly, excited for the food.

You’re really very hungry.

“Can we get the gourmet pizza?” Clark asks, “And an order of the mini muffins? What kind are they?”

“Blueberry today,” the girl informs him, back to her composed and professional attitude.

“Two orders of those. And…”

“You don’t offer any kind of burger?” you ask the young woman looking back at her.

She smiles kindly but shakes her head, “No, sorry. The closest would be the sandwiches. We have tuna, cucumber, egg salad, and ham.”

While they sound like normal sandwiches, you have a suspicion that they’re going to be fancy in one way or another.

“Can we have an order of the tuna?”

She nods.

“And we’ll get the chocolate fondue, for desert?” Clark adds, folding up the menu and handing it to your escort.

“Alrighty, and for drinks? We can bring just plain water or perhaps some herb infused tea?”

“Do you have any sweet tea?” you wonder.

She nods.

“Two please,” Clark smiles. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome,” your escort says and hurries off to put in the order.

Both of you watch her go then when you meet Clark’s eyes, he laughs, just once. Failing to keep it inside.

“Did we order too much?” you wonder.

“I’m hungry too,” Clark assures you.

“I really wanted a burger,” you lament. “I mean, this food will probably be better than some greasy burger but-”

“A burger sounds like heaven. I love greasy burgers. Double meat. Triple cheese. Lots of pickles.”

He makes a funny face, pretending to salivate over the image he’s painted and while it’s a subtle change in his expression, you can tell that he’s more prone to being serious and that makes the gesture funnier for some reason.

You laugh, shaking your head.

He laughs with you, leaning back in his lounge.

You follow his lead, then turn onto your side and shove an arm underneath your head.

He mimics your pose, drawing his long legs up a little to bend them.

“I’m sorry about earlier, with the locker room? I really didn’t know that I wasn’t supposed to change in there.”

Clark’s smiles shift to a soft curve of his lips.

“I’m the one that should be apologizing,” he counters. “I walked in on you.”

“But you had no idea I’d be in there half naked, I kinda just thrust my body at you.”

There’s a beat, he looks down at your chair instead of maintaining eye contact, then, “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

Your neck is suddenly on fire. Cheeks, ears, the base of your belly. It all burns as your heart stutters.

As he looks up to meet your eyes again, those baby blues burning with a striking spark, something he said when you first came in here replays itself in your head.

You frown, narrowing your eyes at him, “Hey, when I came in here, I apologized for staring at your naked upper body and you said that it was only fair I get a good look too.

“Are you saying you saw me when you clearly said you didn’t in the locker room?!”

Clark averts his eyes, clearing his throat loudly before throwing himself onto his back to stare up at the ceiling.

“I’m gonna have to get my friend something really good in return for gifting me this spa day,” Clark says, pointedly changing the subject.

But he has a point. This has been the best little indulgence you’ve ever given yourself and none of it could have been possible without Mr. Wayne’s generosity.

“Me too. I’ll have to make sure my boss knows how glad I am that he forced me to come here.”

Clark smiles, “What’s your next treatment? Did you pick them before you came?”

“We could do that?” You gasp.

Clark just smiles wider.

“No, I’m just going with the flow. The girl who took our order has been suggesting stuff and I’ve just been going with it.”

“I have a fresh water soak after this. You should join me.” Clark offers.

After the hot room, a swim in some fresh water sounds like heaven. And extending your time with Clark is a definite bonus.

“Aren’t we not supposed to swim for thirty minutes after we eat?” you tease.

Clark chuckles, “It’s a soak.”

Then, his voice shifts and you’re knocked breathless as he basically pleads with you.

“Join me. Only if you want to. I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to.”

Your brain is buzzing with that pleading voice of his. Gentle urging that betrays his want to be with you rather than wanting to control you.

“A fresh water soak sounds amazing.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Nothing could ever top today. You and Clark stuck together the rest of the day. It was fun getting to know him and exciting because the longer you two spent time together, the closer he sat to you.

As you dropped your spa outfit into a canvas souvenir bag that your attendee had given you at your last treatment--a couple’s massage that you and Clark had talked all the way through--Clark peeked around his own locker door, shutting it.

“So, I was thinking,” he began, moving to lean beside your locker as he towers over you, making you internally swoon with the curve of his lips.

“Yeah?” you urge him on, taking your other belongings and throwing them into the canvas bag along with your spa outfit which is also free for you to take.

“I have some things to do tonight but, how would you like to get some burgers tomorrow?”

“Are you asking me out on a second date, Clark?” as much as you wish you could sound like you were teasing, your excitement betrays you and Clark beams at your tone.

“Definitely,” he says low and deep.

Fuck, you’re totally screwed. You’re falling hard.

You really want to reach up and gently slide the curl falling on his forehead to the side lightly, but you resist the urge.

“I’d love to go out and get greasy burgers with you,” you bite your lip and Clark’s expression shifts a bit more serious but there’s a fire in his eyes, a darkening as his pupils dilate that makes your heart stutter.

“Come on,” Clark nods towards the door. “I’ll walk you out.”

He bumps into you, flirtatiously nudging you as he leads you out and you return his gentle push with your own.

“Had you been to a spa like this before?”

“No,” Clark shakes his head. “I actually don’t get much benefit at these places. It feels good, but it’s not really my thing. You?”

“I feel cleaner than I ever have,” you scoff. “But I could never afford it. Even the cheap places. I’d rather just take a walk around a park or something.”

“Me too,” Clark agrees, smiling.

As the two of you walk out into the parking lot, the cooler air outside feels pleasant against your treated skin.

In the setting sun light, Clark looks especially good and you can’t help yourself. You steal several glances at him with no worry as to hiding it.

You’re happy to see he’s doing it too.

“Oh good,” a familiar voice interrupts, pulling your feet to a stop as you search for your boss’s face. “You two met.”

“Wait, us two-?”

“Bruce?” Clark also stops beside you, eyes narrowed, a crinkle between his eyes.

You look between the two of them, confused but starting to put two and two together.

“Bruce? You-Mr. Wayne is your friend who gave you the voucher?” you realize.

Clark looks at you, his own realizations starting to manifest.

“Bruce is your boss?”

Mr. Wayne moves towards the two of you, hands shoved into his long charcoal gray coat. There’s a satisfied grin on his handsome face, a pride in what you realize must have been a carefully crafted maneuver.

Clark looks at you, a knowing smile on his face as if amused but maybe also a little irritated? Not with you, of course. Clearly his annoyance is with Mr. Wayne.

“You did this,” he accepts, looking back at Mr. Wayne with a tilt of his head.

“I didn’t do anything,” Mr. Wayne denies. “I just gave you two a free day at the spa. Did she tell you why I gave her the voucher?”

“She did,” Clark nods.

“Not every PR rep would overlook a five hundred million dollar investment in order to keep us clean from associating with a suspected illegal arms dealer. Most of them would just look the other way.” Mr. Wayne brags.

A look of understanding crossing Clark’s face and he looks down at you, smiling again as if he’s pieced together a puzzle.

“It was really nothing, Mr. Wayne, and thank you for today. I-I’m actually really glad I came. I would have hated it if the voucher expired.”

“Expired?” Clark asks, turning that confused look back on his friend. “They don’t expire.”

Mr. Wayne clears his throat and turns his full body away from you both, looking back at his shiny expensive sports car.

“Yeah, they do,” he says.

“Bruce,” Clark chides.

“We’re gonna be late,” Mr. Wayne says, ignoring Clark’s reprimand, then looks at you as he pretends he wasn’t just caught in a lie. “Do you have a ride home?”

“Yeah, I brought my car,” you gesture at a modest white sedan parked a few spots over.

“Good. I’ll see you on Monday. Clark?” Mr. Wayne urges him, then walks towards his car.

“I’ll be right there,” Clark tells him, then waits for you to lead the way to your car.

Your heart is still thrumming rapidly with the realization that Mr. Wayne went out of his way to make sure you and Clark met. A set up?

You stop by your car door and unlock it. Clark is quick to take the door from you as you open it and he holds it with his left arm as you turn to look up at him.

“I had a lot of fun today, despite the obvious premeditation of us meeting,” you scoff. “I’m glad I met you.”

You’re quickly becoming acquainted with the gentle curve of Clark’s lips, the peek of his pearly whites as he blushes and meets your eyes.

“I’m glad Bruce interfered,” he nods. “I’ll see you tomorrow for burgers?”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” you assure him.

After a moment of hesitation, he reaches out and places his hand on your bicep then traces the length of your arm until he can take your hand.

It sets your skin on fire. It makes you dizzy and breathless.

“You have my number,” you remind him, eager to reconnect if he has the time.

He gives you that pearly smile, blue eyes full of excitement, “I’ll call you later. Tonight?”

You nod, “Tonight.”

He waits for you to get in, shutting the door for you when you’re sitting.

You lower the window as he backs away, “Bye.”

“Bye,” he nods, then turns to meet Mr. Wayne at his car.

“What?” Bruce asks, “It’s been months. She’s perfect for you.”

“Really?!” you can hear Clark demand, more annoyed with his friend again than any consequences his actions might have brought, however positive.

“You like her, don’t you?” Mr. Wayne asks.

“That’s not the point, Bruce. Boundaries.” Clark reminds him. “Why did you lie to her?”

“I knew you were coming today, I had to get her here,” Mr. Wayne explains. “Besides, you’re-”

As their doors shut, you’re cut off from their distant conversation. You shut your window, watch them speed out, and smile to yourself at the unexpected turn your spa day took.

#clark kent x reader #superman x reader #clark x reader #dceu fanfiction #dc fanfiction #clark kent #superman #bruce wayne #batman #dc oneshot

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sunflowersoonyoung · 3 years

Text

honeyed | jinho

w.c ↠ 2.5k

pairing↠ jinho x fem! reader

genre/s ↠ smut (light bondage, overstimulation, fem!oral), incubus! jinho, soft dom! jinho, supernatural au!, office au!

description ↠ falling asleep at work leads to an oddly realistic dream about your hot boss Jinho

warning/s ↠ suggestive themes, supernatural themes

a/n ↠ wow okay can you tell that jinho is my ptg bias. I seriously thirsted over him in this oneshot. this is one of my favourite smuts I've written here! I wrote it carefully and reread it three times so I'm proud of it :)

tags ↠ @prismwon

Anxiety washed over you from head to toe, rising with each passing second. You clasped a trembling hand to your chest to feel your heart fluttering against your ribcage.

Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself before pushing open the glass door to work.

The publishing office was bright with mellow, natural lighting, an open room dotted with large desks cluttered with stationary. Some of your coworkers had already arrived and had busied themselves with various tasks - bustling distractedly around the room.

“G-Good morning, everyone!”

You tried to announce your presence as boldly as you could; despite this, barely anyone bothered to even glance in your direction. You swallowed nervously and made a bee-line for your desk.

New to the workforce and fresh from University, acclimatising had been a difficult journey. No one was willing to sacrifice any precious time to help you - or even welcome you, for that matter. You felt utterly ostracised by the team. They had all apparently established their clique, and you were not invited.

The one exception had been the lead editor: Jo Jinho, your boss and the office eye candy.

“Good morning, (F/n).”

As if reading your thoughts, Jinho’s melodic voice drifted over your shoulder. You swallowed, feeling sweat prickle your armpits in response to his presence.

“You look bright today. I hope you’re making good progress on that manuscript.”

You pivoted in your chair to face him, in turn becoming stricken by his gaze. There was something unusual about Jinho, something that had successfully hypnotised many of your coworkers, including yourself.

He was impossible to resist. From his handsome exterior to his pleasant interior, he was genuinely mesmerising - like the sunrise in the morning after a cold night.

“Y-Yes, thank you,” you stammered, forcing a polite smile. Jinho’s smile in response was a thousand watts bright, his creased eyes just as radiant.

He was gone just as quickly as he had appeared, interacting with everyone else on the path to his desk. Your nerves melted from your taut muscles, and you breathed a sigh of relief, secretly thankful that Jinho had moved on. Being beneath his attention was too challenging to handle. You withdrew your laptop from your bag and made a start on work for the day.

Unfortunately, your concentration was coming through like a sputtering hose. You were not yet accustomed to working in a room with ten other people and limited silence.

Your attention drifted around the office. You observed conversations, watching as a young girl was scolded; a middle-aged man answered the phone with a frustrated visage.

You could not help but become drawn to Jinho.

He was hovering over someone’s shoulder - Seunghee, you vaguely remembered her name to be. Girls in the editing team tended to ask him for help suspiciously frequently. It was apparent they all simply longed after Jinho’s presence.

Admittedly, it was tempting. In that position, you could feel his breath against your ear.

You quickly became absorbed in observing him. It was not just his pretty features. His expressions were genuine, his explanations clear and concise. Fully believing you were free to admire him, you forgot your surroundings and lost yourself.

Abruptly, Jinho’s gaze shifted from Seunghee’s work to you. It was such a subtle shift that you almost failed to notice it. Electricity shot across your skin upon realisation, heat blossoming from your ears to your cheeks.

Though it was too late, you looked back to your computer screen. Out of the corner of your eyes, you could see him grinning. That cruel image worsened your embarrassment.

As your mind buzzed with thoughts of Jinho’s grin, you struggled to return your focus to the manuscript as much as you tried. You huffed frustratedly.

“Everything okay, (F/n)?”

You wondered with horror if he intended to make things more difficult. Your humiliation should have been apparent, and yet here he was, standing directly behind you with a hand resting on the back of your chair.

“Y-Yes,” you responded, refusing to tear your eyes from your laptop. You could hear your voice quaking.

His palm settled on your desk, confining you. It was no longer possible to pretend he wasn’t there. His face was far too close for you to deal with.

“Really? Hmm,” He hummed, “There must be some other reason you were staring at me then.”

You could not even begin to imagine how crimson your face was. Was Jinho teasing you? It certainly felt like it.

He snorted faintly, withdrawing. On the edge of your vision, you could see him smiling broadly.

After getting very little work done for the rest of the afternoon, you opted to stay behind and work overtime. The manuscript was due tomorrow evening, after all.

The office buzz began to fade, gradually declining till the room was entirely quiet. The only thing disconnecting the silence was the sound of fingers against keyboards.

You decided to take a short break as your fatigue began to increase. Shadows from the night sky crept across the floor. Usually, you liked to be fed and warm at home by this time. Your eyelids were heavy, your thoughts sluggish and tired.

It was only you and Jinho remaining at this stage. You had managed to keep your thoughts away from him until now. He was wrapped up in his work; his face blank with concentration. Sighing, you ignored him and returned to your own business.

The words on your laptop screen began to blend with each passing second. You squinted, blinking rapidly to counter the weariness that was dousing you like warm water. You had never been so tired at work - it was as if you were being dragged down by an invisible force, and nothing you did could stop it. It was a similar sensation to having too much alcohol.

Before you knew it, your head had lulled onto the cold desk, crumpling the papers in front of you.

Alarm overwhelmed your thoughts as you lifted your head from your desk.

You could not believe you had fallen asleep at work. Rubbing your eyes, you looked towards Jinho’s desk in panic, hoping to apologise and then flee. Relief washed over you - his chair was empty. Perhaps he had gone home.

Strangely enough, the room was hazy. Instead of its usual white light, it was rose-tinted and clouded. It did not look familiar to you.

“You fell asleep? How cute.”

You blinked, and Jinho seemed to appear directly beside you, seated on the table with one leg crossed over the other. He was admiring you, cupping his cheek whilst wearing an affectionate smile.

It took a moment for you to react; your head was abnormally thick, so your thoughts were slow, but once you realised what was happening, you became flustered.

“Your face tells me everything - your expressions are so honest. It’s adorable.”

Jinho leapt smoothly to his feet, circling you to place his hands on the back of your swivel chair and then rotating you till you were facing him. You could do nothing, frozen with anticipation and unsure what to expect next.

He leant in closely, leaning on the armrests, and you held your breath. His nose was close enough to brush against yours, yet his expression was unchanged - still as sweet as usual.

“Why don’t you let me make you feel good?” He hummed. His gaze was direct, and you swooned inwardly when you finally met it. In contrast to his soft nature, his eyes were hard. You tried to swallow but your throat had gone dry.

“Wh-what if someone sees?” You stammered shyly.

Jinho chuckled, his eyes crinkling in amusement, “no one will see. I promise.”

He placed his hands on your knees, maintaining eye contact as he rubbed reassuringly. He pushed his hands up your thighs, catching the fabric of your skirt and baring your thighs to the air. You could not look away, dizzyingly mesmerised by him. Your head was getting light and hot.

Finally, Jinho kissed you. It was a shallow, chaste kiss that tasted of vanilla and made you feel as if you were melting into the chair.

You could not split your concentration between the kiss and the way his warm palms rubbed against your thighs. The combination was causing a spike of burning excitement to prickle between your legs.

He parted from you with a soft pop and offered you a hand. You were too flustered and weak-kneed to stand steadily, but it hardly mattered - Jinho did not make you stand for long.

“Let me taste you, gorgeous.”

Jinho was simultaneously gentle and firm as he guided you to his desk, carelessly sweeping it clear. You gasped when he spun you around, essentially folding you over the surface. The varnished wood was cold through the thin fabric of your shirt, momentarily sobering you to reality.

With your ass in the air, he hitched up your skirt to reveal your underpants. You were uneasy about the fact that you could not see what he was doing.

“Hands behind your back, please.”

This was Jinho’s first true order.

The way his voice dropped a few notes sent chills down your spine, goosebumps travelling across your skin. You were trembling as you obeyed, swallowing a nervous squeak when he loosely wrapped fabric around your wrists, tying them together.

“I’m not punishing you, sweet. It’s just some extra fun for you,” Jinho reassured. Admittedly you were both anxious and aroused by his decision to tie you up. It made your heart pound fast against your ribcage.

With you properly restrained, Jinho determined that it was time to begin his ministrations.

His fingers ran up and down your slit through your underwear before hooking the fabric and drawing it aside. You strained against your bonds and arched your back when he made direct contact with your pussy. It was only a subtle touch, and yet pleasure was already rippling across your body.

“That feels good, doesn’t it?”

Jinho’s voice was dripping with honey, and yet his fingers were cruel. He grazed your clit with his fingertip and then dragged his finger back down between your lips and teased your entrance with slight pressure, and then repeated this process.

He was not entirely giving in to you, and you were becoming so sensitive that tears of desperation were beginning to sting your eyes.

“J-Jinho .... please,” you pleaded, feeling helpless - frantic for more.

“Please, what?” He hummed in response, “Tell me what to do, sweet, and I’ll do it. Use your words.”

Despite being dazed and overwhelmed, you still managed to respond, albeit in a small voice, “I-I want your lips and your fingers.”

“Of course, sweet.”

He pressed his thumb directly to your clitoris, and you gasped, toes curling. He languidly rolled his thumb, observing you whilst cleverly allowing your pleasure to build. Your focus honed in on his touches, no longer paying attention to the noises passing through your lips.

“The more I touch you, the prettier noises you make,” Jinho commented.

Abruptly, he filled you up with his forefinger. Your breath hitched in your throat, hardly expecting him to make that leap.

You cried out when his lips sucked in your clitoris, gradually fucking you with his finger. He eased you into a swift orgasm, pressing fluttering kisses to the backs of your thighs while you trembled.

“Good girl~. One more time?”

Before you could respond, Jinho had added a second finger and was pistoning them inside of you much quicker than earlier. You were incredibly wet thanks to your orgasm, and he seemed to be using that to his advantage.

His tongue teased your swollen clit, and you sobbed, “I-I’m too sensitive!” Seemingly uncaring, Jinho dragged you into a second, far more intense orgasm that had your legs thrashing and drool spilling out onto the desk.

Your ears were ringing, but you could hear Jinho chuckling as he removed himself.

“Was that too much?” He mused, cleaning his fingers with his mouth, “Can you take any more?”

You were still an empty shell, electricity and heat clinging to your skin mingled with a sheen of sweat. His hands smoothed over your ass cheeks, a comforting action that made your heart soften. You twisted around to look at him dazedly.

Jinho was just as gorgeous as ever, though he had lost some of his neatness. The restraint around your wrist was apparently his necktie, which was missing, and he had undone his button-up shirt to reveal a sliver of his flawless chest. He combed his fingers through his hair, gleaming at you proudly.

“The look on your face tells me you want more,” he purred, rolling his hips against your backside. You mewled and rocked backwards, feeling his hard cock straining through his pants. You had never been so delirious, hungry to feel every inch of him.

“Ho~ such an insatiable girl,” Jinho unzipped his pants, sliding the tip of his cock over your slick folds. Even that simple action felt incredible.

“Oh, my God.”

Jinho filled you up, stuffing you in one lazy stroke. You were so full, your pussy throbbing delightfully around him.

“Please,” you begged, wanting nothing more than for him to fuck you, “Jinho-ah, please.” He scoffed in response before giving in to your desires.

The way he fucked you was utterly sadistic in contrast to his sweet nature. He was relentless in the way his hips slammed against yours, no longer offering you any mercy. You were defenceless to him, only able to dig your nails into your palm whilst bracing yourself.

“So tight,” he groaned, hanging his head back in bliss.

He angled his hips upwards, the head of his cock meeting a sweet spot. You started contracting around him, the pleasure in the pit of your belly peaking.

“I’m gonna-,” you managed to slur out before you came hard, so hard that stars speckled behind your clenched eyes. You practically ascended into the ceiling, losing all sense of Jinho’s thrusts and anything else around you.

Ink drowned your vision as you passed out.

“(F/n)?”

Your head was weighty as you lifted it, heat throbbing between your legs in response to the vivid dream you had just woken from.

Jinho was peering down at you, his hand warm on your shoulder.

“You should go home if you’re so tired,” he sighed, wearing a concerned expression. You were in shock, simply unable to process that what had just occurred had been entirely in your head. You could still feel his thickness inside you, still feel the intense climax he had given you.

“Are you okay? You look flushed,” Jinho cocked his head, the worry growing on his face. You waved your hand dismissively.

“I-I’m fine. I should go home.”

He hovered nearby as you packed away your laptop, silently observing you. You were ready to leave when he finally broke the silence.

“Let’s do that again,” Jinho suggested innocently, his smile no different from his usual one, “you’re so cute when you beg.”

#pentagon #pentagon x reader #pentagon smut #pentagon fanfic #jo jinho #jo jinho x reader #jo jinho smut #jo jinho fanfic #jinho x reader #jinho smut #jinho fanfic #Kpop x reader #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #kpop imagines #pentagon imagines #jinho imagines

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risualto · 2 years

Note

asks: 1, 12, 27 for Theresa and Rinan, please :3

Thanks for asking! I love these two so much. And these questions actually get kind of to the heart of some stuff I plan to write about them soon!

I know Theresa and Rinan aren't the most popular of my OCs, so here's a dollmaker image of them in case anyone forgot:

1. What drew your character to their LI and vice versa? Rinan was originally drawn to Theresa for much the same reason that teenage boys are usually drawn to their first crushes--because Theresa was cute, clever, and flattered him a little bit. He was determined to protect her, at first, though he quickly realized that Theresa was a lot more competent than she let on, which intrigued him.

Theresa, on the other hand, is a bit of a playgirl, so she was initially kind of interested in Rinan at a surface level because she'd never seen someone who not only doesn't wear armor but also is constantly tits out get knocked out by a troll and still manage to stand back up and punch it to death. But even though she flirts with boys like there's no tomorrow, what actually got her attention was that, for all of his cool-guy posturing, Rinan is also a genuinely kind person. Theresa expected that to be facetious because she was, and when he turned out to be genuine, she was definitely interested.

12. Do they have similar goals? If they clash, how do they deal? They do have similar goals, which include things like murdering literally anyone they meet who's involved in the slave trade in their fictional city because Fuck Those Guys. In their spare time, they also play Robin Hood (more or less), and long-term, I think both of them want to have a family, but that's a long ways off. If they run into a situation where their goals or morals clash, they're not the greatest at communication if I'm being honest. So it's more likely that they'll either argue about it until they both have to take a time out before coming to a compromise, or one of them will go behind the other's back to just...make the situation not a situation anymore.

27. What makes you excited about their relationship? They are simultaneously one of the most archetypical relationships I've ever tried to write (Theresa's the popular girl and Rinan is the jock) and also subverting those tropes at the same time. They're the couple I write about who's most likely to break up over a misunderstanding and then dramatically kiss in the rain when they make up. They both have a lot of growing to do in terms of maturity, but I think someday they'll be really happy together.

They're also, as I've described them, their city's most benevolent mob bosses. Theresa more or less becomes a pillar of the criminal underground known as the Angel of Verbobonc, and anyone who wants to do business with the now-united thieves' guild in the city has to pass her vibe check or they get thrown to the dogs. Rinan is known of as being associated with her, but he's not a member of any of the guilds, so the stories get a little confused as to whether he's her shadow, her bodyguard, her "master" (as in someone she answers to), or her attack dog, and they don't bother correcting the rumors. The truth is that he works for an order of monks who are interested in routing out corruption, so and said order of monks is actually pretty happy about the fact that he's dating one of the most powerful criminals in the city because it means they have both a steady stream of info and a contact if they need something.

But that's just their side gig. Their day job is working at Theresa's parents' bakery (which will one day be hers), and Rinan never fails to show up for brunch when Theresa's mom asks.

tl;dr what do I love most about Therinan? The ~duality~.

#dnd stuff #dnd theresa #dnd rinan #risuresponds #sayonaramidnight

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geminidentitycrisis · 3 years

Text

Fatgum x F!reader "What a Hero SHOULD do"

Whew.

You guys.

I've been gone a long while, life has been a rollercoaster, but I don't really wanna get into all that noise. Just happy to be in a good place right now.

That said, this was painful to write because I had planned the ending very differently...

I'm not officially in the bnha/mha fandom but, I just got into it recently and wanted to show some love to my favorite Pro!

Hope you guys like it!

I haven't written anything in a while, so please go easy on me...

_____________

(WARNING! Mild angst)

"Hey, Fat...can I ask you something kinda personal...?"

Fatgum glanced down at his young intern with an eyebrow raised, tilting his head in curiosity. "Huh? Oh, sure. What's on yer mind?" he gave an encouraging grin to put Kirishima at ease. The red head craned his neck to look up at his boss, his own mouth twisted into a small frown.

"Have you asked _______ on a date yet...?"

He stumbled a bit but keeps walking, caught off guard by the question, a slight blush rising to his cheeks. "Woah, where did that come from?!" he asked in return with a nervous chuckle. "Well..." Kirishima continued "You guys seem really close. The way you look at her when you see her-"

"Hahaha!" the burst of anxious laughter interrupted and Red Riot looked up at Fatgum again in confusion. "You're reading too deep into it, man! We're just friends! Heh..." Toyomitsu tried to act casually, but it wasn't working at all.

Kirishima pouted a bit, deciding to push a little harder.

"...but, I think she has feelings for you, too-" the blonde stopped walking and stared down at him, his blush growing darker and spreading across the bridge of his nose, cutting him off again. "Okay, let's change the topic, huh? Maybe we should go somewhere else for lunch..."

Eyes widening a bit, Red Riot raised both hands defensively and shook his head. "No, no! I'm sorry...I won't mention it again..." his expression became one of defeat and disappointment, shoulders slumping as he continued to walk, staring down at the sidewalk.

With an inward wince, Toyomitsu followed close behind, his own gaze dropping to the ground as well. Silence passed between the Pro and his sidekick for several minutes before Fatgum spoke up again.

"Honestly, she deserves better..." he mumbled.

This was a surprise to Kiri, his mentor was always inspirationally self-confident, it was disheartening to hear such a comment from the man he so deeply admired. He opened his mouth to argue, but stopped himself when he remembered that he had already promised to drop the subject.

He felt bad for bringing it up now.

_______ was a sweet lady, she was funny and friendly, vivacious and beautiful, generous, tough and a fantastic cook. All Kirishima wanted was to see them both happy together. When they spotted each other through the window of the diner, their eyes lit up, a smile instantly formed on their lips, they would practically start glowing.

She always ran to jump into his arms, hugging around his neck, never failing to say how she missed him. He caught her every time, hiding his face in her hair as he hugged her back and would say he had missed her too, but especially her cooking!

If that isn't true love, Kiri thought, then what is...?

They finally made it to the diner and stopped outside. Fatgum looked through the window, and when he didn't see ______ anywhere, glanced at Red Riot again with a frown. "Listen, can I count on you to keep that little conversation between us? I don't want ______ to know how I feel..."

"You're not sick, are you??" a soft voice piped up from beside Toyomitsu.

It made both of them jump, startled. Fatgum whipped his head around to see ______ standing there, instead of her pretty smile, her face was flooded with worry at the thought of her Hero being ill or injured.

The Pro forced a crooked grin as the blush returned to his cheeks. "N-no, no, I'm fine! How's it goin'...?" he stuttered weakly.

She was clearly not convinced, the concern in her bright (e/c) eyes only deepened. "C'mon...all this time we've known each other, you think I can't tell when something's bothering you...?" he started to panic a bit but Red Riot swooped in to save the day like the rising star he was.

"Aw, he just had a big breakfast, that's all...he doesn't wanna hurt your feelings if he can't finish lunch." Kirishima answered casually with a lightly teasing undertone, arms crossing over his chest. She looked from him up at Fatgum who responded to her questioning expression with a sheepish grin and shrug.

At this, her smile bloomed in place, eyes twinkling mischievously as she playfully elbowed his broad, squishy belly. "Oh, c'mon! When have you ever left here without takeout, even after filling up?! As if it matters..." she giggled, hopping up into his arms as always, chin resting on his shoulder as she nuzzled against him sweetly.

"I'm just happy you're okay...I missed you!"

Bending at the waist with his arms extended, the blonde caught her effortlessly when she hopped up for the hug, sighing and closing his eyes as he rises to his full height, squeezing the small girl gently.

"Ahh, I'm fine, I'm fine...I missed you too..."

Kirishima gave a soft smile as he watched the exchange, dropping himself into the patio chair where he always sat when they came to the diner.

When he set her down, ________ smiled from him to his sidekick. "Your food should be done soon. It's a new recipe! I hope you guys like it!" then she waved over her shoulder as she walked back inside. Exhaling softly, Fatgum turned to sit as well. He glanced over at Red Riot, blushing a bit, only for it to get worse when he notices the toothy grin he's being flashed.

"...Oh, knock it off..." the pro grumbles, arms crossing and lowering his eyes to the tabletop.

"I didn't SAY anything...~!" Kirishima taunted childishly, arms folding behind his head as he leans back and closes his own eyes. "You didn't have to, punk." Tai shot back in typical big-bro style, reaching out across the table to muss the teens perfectly sculpted hair. "Aw, quit! It takes 40 minutes to set every morning!"

Fatgum chuckled, eyes rolling.

After some minutes passed, _______ returned with another server, both carrying trays of food which they placed on the table in front of the two heroes. "Wow! It looks so good!" they said simultaneously, earning a laugh from her.

"Well, I hope you like the taste even more. It's a cheeseburger-tater-tot-casserole. Dig in!" wasting no time, Kirishima and Toyomitsu start chowing down, both groaning happily around mouthfuls of the meal and nodding in approval. "Mmm...!" _______ laughed again, giving a thumbs up.

"Glad to hear it! I'll be right back with your drinks."

She left again but came back quickly with two pitchers and a cup, putting them between their plates. "Yer an angel, _____." Fatgum said with a grin, taking one of the pitchers and starting to drink from it. Red Riot snickered quietly before sipping his own drink.

"Oh, I just remembered! Check this out!" she said cheerfully, reaching behind her neck and starting to untie her apron. Upon glancing at her and noticing this, Fatgums eyes grew wide and a dark blush pooled in his cheeks, choking slightly on the ice water. "...?!"

Kiri froze, his eyes getting big as well and blushing slightly.

She dropped the top, revealing...

A tank top. With a picture of a sombrero. It said "If you don't like TACOS, I'm NACHO type"

Red Riot started laughing, covering his eyes with a hand as he tipped back his head. "Cute, right?!" she asked enthusiastically, looking from one to the other. Smiling weakly, Fatgum gave a slow nod. "It's great...really clever..." he wondered if steam would rise off him if he poured the rest of the water down his neck.

"Yeah, I knew I had to have it when I saw it. Anyway," she started to fix her apron again. "I'll let you guys finish eating. Let me know if you need boxes and your takeout oughtta be done before you get done with those. Enjoy!" with that, she walked off.

The blonde watched over his shoulder as she left before sliding his plate out of the way, folding his arms on the table and burying his face in them.

Grinning, Kiri nudged his foot under the table. "DON'T. SAY. A WORD." this reply only got him to laugh again, head shaking as he resumed eating. "Whatever you say, boss..." the red head hummed.

Between them, they were able to clear their dishes, waiting by the front door for the takeout, both content and full of tasty food. "Alright, guys. Here ya go! I'm glad you liked lunch, lemme know when you wanna try it again." Tai smiled down at her when she came out, taking the bags gratefully. "Yeah, definitely. Will do!"

______ hugged Kirishima tightly, pulling him down to place a kiss on his forehead, surprising him and making him blush faintly since she hadn't done it before. "Be safe, young man, you hear me?" she demanded. He answered with a broad smile and a nod. "Gotcha!"

"Ooh, do I get one of those?" Fatgum asked half jokingly, blushing too. Some color rose up on her cheeks as well, giving him a warm smile as she reached up for the BMI hero.

He put down the food to pick her up again for another hug, chuckling softly when she pressed a tender kiss against his cheek. "Aw, that was sweet!" Kirishima called up to them, earning a swift kick to the ass. "Ow! Hey!" the red head complained, rubbing the spot.

He set her down carefully with a deep sigh. She didn't let go of his arms and he looked at her in confusion. "Please be careful out there, Taishiro...I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to you..." he grinned, placing a hand on her head. "I will. I'll be back before ya know it!"

She pressed herself into his tummy, coming nowhere close to being able to wrap her arms around him but she gives him her best hug anyway. The pro didn't have to look at his intern to know he was smirking smugly. He hugged her back before stepping away to grab his bags again. "Well...see ya, _____."

He waved, smiling, then turned so they could head back out. They only took a few steps before Fatgum stopped and glanced back at her over his shoulder.

She was still there, offering another small smile and wave of goodbye.

"C'mon, man! Just go for it! You TOTALLY got this!" Kiri urged desperately. But he was still hesitant. It wasn't an issue of his own self-confidence, but his career. He was so busy that he would hardly have time for you, and the way Toyomitsu saw it, you deserved to be waited on hand-and-foot.

He dreamed about being with you, which meant his worst nightmare would be a villain or criminal using you as leverage against him. It was best to leave things the way they are. It's what he SHOULD do.

A real Hero isn't so selfish as to put their own desires ahead of the safety of those they cherish, he reminded himself. With a heavy heart, he forced a smile to hide the pain and waved back before looking down at the ground and sighing, eyes closing slowly.

"...I just...can't...

#taishiro x reader #taishiro toyomitsu x reader #taishiro toyomitsu x you #fatgum x reader #fatgum x you #mha x y/n #bnha x you #self insert #reader insert #Fatgum #Taishiro Toyomitsu

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dream-a-little-bigger-x · 3 years

Text

‘Til I Forget About You | Reggie Peters

JATP x BTR Week - Day 2: BTR

Song used: ‘Til I Forget About You - Big Time Rush

Pairing: Modern Day!Reggie x Reader

Summary: When Reggie’s girlfriend breaks up with him, he’s completely devestated. Now it’s up to y/n, Luke, Alex and Julie to cheer him up again. With the help of parties, movie nights and just overall fun things, Reggie completely forgets about Lisa.

A/N: Thanks @jatp-btr, @meangirlsx and @darlingsteveharrington for this amazing idea! Honored to be a part of this! Extra special shoutout to @darlingsteveharrington for making me these amazing time jump headers!! I am forever grateful and appreaciate you so so so much! 💕

Warnings: Underage drinking, party, alcohol, heartbreak

Words: 5,880

Reggie sat by himself in the garage one afternoon, plucking the strings of his bass guitar soothingly as he tried to forget about the screams and clatter of plates breaking at his house. Things had gotten heated again when his father came home drunk for the nth time that week. He didn’t blame his mother for slowly losing her patience with her husband. Sure, he couldn’t help it if his boss fired him instantly and he couldn’t find a new job. Albeit he didn’t search for one either.

His thoughts were thankfully interrupted by his phone buzzing on the coffee table in front of him. He halted his fingers before leaning over to see if he could ignore whoever needed him at this moment.

Confusion rose within him as his girlfriend, Lisa, smiled back at him on the picture that had appeared on screen. “Hello, gorgeous,” he said upon picking up, a smile playing on his lips. A smile that faltered as soon as it appeared when he heard sniffles coming from the other side. “Are you okay, Lis?” he asked, worry lacing in his voice.

“I can’t do this anymore, Reggie. I… It’s over. We’re done.”

With those simple words, Lisa hung up, leaving Reggie frozen in place. He couldn’t move his muscles, let alone feel them. His mind had blanked. His eyes focused on the closed white doors in front of him.

He didn’t even know what he’d done wrong for Lisa to suddenly break up with him. It wasn’t like anything had happened between them. In fact, last time they saw each other, everything still seemed peachy. More than peachy. They’d spent the night together, which seemed to have been the very last one at that too.

“Oh, hey, Reg,” a voice made him jump out of his trance. He finally dropped the phone in his lap and stared at the girl that had entered the garage. “Are you okay?” she asked, growing worried for her friend. He almost seemed catatonic.

“No,” he muttered, and finally remembered to blink. “Lisa.... I think Lisa just broke up with me?” Tears pooled his eyes as everything dawned on him, the words repeating in his head. Over and over again. It’s over. It’s over. It’s over. “Lisa just dumped me…” y/n’s heart broke at the sight of the confused and broken-hearted bass player.

“What?!” y/n exclaimed as she moved over towards the boy. She grabbed his bass and gently placed it on its stand again before pulling him to his feet and wrapping her arms around him. As he cried, y/n rubbed circles on his back, trying to soothe him a little. “I’m so sorry, Reg.”

He sniffled once more before gently pushing the girl off him. “I-I think I’m gonna go for a walk,” he said and made a beeline out the door as Luke and Alex walked in together with furrowed eyebrows at the haste their friend just left in.

“Is he okay?” Alex asked y/n, pointing back to where the other boy had just left.

“He will be, I think… Lisa just broke up with him.” Y/N’s forehead creased as she frowned, concerned for her friend’s broken heart. “Before you ask me, I don’t know why, I don’t know how. I just know she dumped him and that he’s pretty distraught.”

Luke only moved one muscle, intending to follow behind Reggie, but y/n stopped him. “Let him be. For now. He’ll come back when he needs us.”

He did come back that night, but only for band practice and only because he knew he needed the music to numb his brain that was overflowing with thoughts about his now-ex-girlfriend.

He’d been breaking his head over the reasons why Lisa would ever break up with him. They were doing so well. What changed that she ultimately decided to break it off. Has he done something wrong?

For days, he’d tried to call her, went to her house, tried something to get her to talk to him. But it was all in vain. Lisa cut off all communication. She blocked his number, told her mother that if he ever came to their house, she’d have to send him away, … She didn’t even grant him one glance when they passed each other in the hallways at Los Feliz High.

His friends were at a loss. Reggie was so disconnected from the real world, he didn’t even care if he missed a few chords during rehearsals or his notes sounded flat. He didn’t care anymore. He just wanted Lisa back.

For days they tried to patch him up. They’d talk to him about the most random stuff they could think of that wouldn’t remind him of Lisa. None of which seemed to have an effect. Even at the boys’ banter Reggie just chuckled half-heartedly. Even when y/n made him a peppermint hot chocolate, he shot her a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Nothing worked.

“I’m at a loss, you guys,” y/n mumbled as she got up from the couch after the Julie and The Phantoms band rehearsal that night.

Reggie had just left the garage to go for another ‘walk’, which they knew by now just meant going places that reminded him of her, and left his friends with a sour and tense feeling lingering in the air.

Julie nodded her head as she turned her keyboard off, but stayed put on the stool behind it. Luke placed his guitar on its stand while Alex came out from behind his drum set, leaving the sticks behind. Julie then said, “I really wanna help him, but I don’t know what to say to him anymore… I’m so scared I’ll say the wrong thing.”

“We can’t just keep tiptoeing around him though,” Alex chimed in as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jean jacket.

Y/N started pacing the floor nervously whilst going over some ideas in her mind that could possibly help out her friend.

Reggie had been there for her so many times whenever she’d gotten her heart broken by someone. He’d cuddle her, make her peppermint hot chocolate, let her cry for a while and watch 10 Things I Hate About You with her as it was her favorite movie. It gave her the opportunity to open up the floodgates without having to feel guilty about crying her eyes out.

Luke grabbed her by the shoulders, stopping her from making him so nervous. “This is not a runway, angel,” he told her before turning to the others. “We need an intervention.”

Alex pointed a finger to his friend in agreement. “Yes! Any ideas?”

Y/N’s brain immediately went to one occurrence during one of her very many heartbreaks. Reggie’s very own intervention to the road to happiness. She remembered his words to a t, “The only cure to a mended heart is a party and alcohol.”

Her friends’ heads whipped around to face her after her mumbling.

“I know what we need to do.”

Reggie plopped down on the armchair after yet another failed band rehearsal. He pulled at the fabric of the piece of furniture, silently cursing at himself and Lisa for letting him fall down this far.

With one collective glance, the boys, y/n and Julie turned towards the brunette bass player. All four of them crossed their arms and glared at him sternly. Reggie felt their eyes burn on the side of his face and he already knew what was going to happen.

“Don’t even try,” he warned.

Y/N uncrossed her arms in defeat and went to kneel down in front of him, placing her hand on his to make him stop tearing the chair apart. “Yes, try. Reggie, we’ve let you be miserable for an entire week. It’s time for an intervention.”

“Guys…” Reggie sighed, shaking his head in objection.

“Reggie,” Julie stated sternly, capturing the boy’s attention. “We’re gonna help you forget all about her. Okay? We’re gonna party, we’re gonna spend so much time together to the point you’ll be focusing on how sick you are of us and you’ll have forgotten all about her.”

The dark-haired boy glanced at the boys first before his eyes landed on y/n’s, who was still crouched down in front of him. She nodded her head encouragingly. Then finally, a soft smile fell to his lips before he got up from the chair slowly as if moving was against his own will.

That night, they all got ready together for the night ahead. While y/n and Julie were doing their makeup and jamming to all the tunes that were bursting out of the speakers, the boys were chilling on Julie’s bed. Neither of them were ready yet, but they said they were going to bequeath the girls their precious time in front of the vanity mirror.

“The mirror is all yours, pretty boys!” Julie sang as she pressed her glossed lips together and popped them before getting up from the stool.

Luke and Alex both whistled as the two girls stood in front of them in their party outfits. Julie opted for a tight purple dress from her mother’s chest of fashion treasures while y/n was wearing a black mesh top and a pleather skirt, paired with black over-the-knee boots.

The two girls striked a pose, both pouting their lips simultaneously. Their giggles filled up the room until y/n’s eyes landed on Reggie, who was just staring at her with a bright pink dusting his cheeks. Her giggle faded and changed into a simple smile. A smile that said ‘I see you’. A smile that caused Reggie’s heart to skip a beat.

Julie had picked up on the change of vibe that exuded from the interaction between her two best friends, and a smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. “Get ready quickly, boys. We wanna partyyyyy!” she dragged out the last word and threw her hands up in the air, clearly ready for letting loose on this wonderful Friday night.

The gang arrived at the Wilson estate an hour later than the party actually kicked off. “Being fashionably late” Luke had called it, though that was just an excuse so the girls wouldn’t complain about him taking so long to style his hair.

“You took longer than we did and we’ve done a full face of makeup!” y/n had teased him which had earned her a glare from the perfectly coiffed guitarist.

They stood in the doorway for a moment, looking at the grinding bodies in the middle of the living room as the music thumped through the speakers and the stench of alcohol filled up their nostrils. It was an overwhelming feeling to arrive at a party that was already in full swing, and y/n could tell Reggie was somewhat agitated.

To ease the tension in his shoulders, she reached for his hand and squeezed it, saying, “The only cure for a broken heart…” She didn’t even need to finish her sentence for he already had a smile climbing up his cheeks.

“Let’s start with shots!” Alex suggested excitedly and skipped through to the set-up bar in the kitchen. The remaining four glanced at one another and collectively chuckled at the drummer’s eagerness before following behind.

The blondie stood shoulder-to-shoulder with a pretty long-haired boy the gang knew as Willie, Alex’s long-time crush. Nobody was really sure what was happening between the two, but they did find them sneaking off at every party they went to together.

They were lining up six shots of Tequila, ready for their friends to shoot back. Every party the group attended, these two took care of every beverage. Whether it was lining up shots for their friends or shaking up a good cocktail. They were the pros out of all of them. The self-proclaimed Liquor Kings.

“Tequila for the pretty lady,” Alex handed the small cup to y/n, sending a blush straight up to her cheeks, but Alex was too busy handing out the drinks to even notice the effect his flattery had on her. Y/N always blushed whenever somebody complimented her, even if it were the people she had been friends with for a long old time.

Willie handed her a lime slice, which she held between the fingers of the hand her shot was in as he needed her other hand to line up the salt in the crook between her thumb and index finger. She shot him a quick thank-you wink before turning to the rest of the group who’d been equipped with all the ingredients for the perfect tequila shot.

“Ready?” Willie asked as a wide smile lit up his face. The group nodded, one a little more excited than the other, and Willie started the countdown. On three, the entire group licked the line of salt off their hand, threw back the shot and then sucked the lime.

Y/N’s face scrunched up as the three tastes mingled on her taste buds and the burning sensation of the liquor slithered down her throat. Reggie was mirroring her expression with the slice of green between his lips.

She giggled at him as he groaned, throwing the sucked-dry lime on the counter. “Feels great, doesn’t it?” Reggie coughed and reached for the two cups their Liquor Kings handed over.

“Amazing,” Reggie mumbled with a chuckle, though his smile fell almost immediately as he brought the red cup to his lips. Y/N knew Lisa was still on his mind and she’d have to do a lot more than just have him drink a shot of Tequila.

Determinedly, she grabbed his hand and led him towards the living room where all party attendees were dancing. Reggie looked scared for his life as y/n started to move to the music, coaxing him to follow her lead.

“Come on, Reg! The best cure to a broken heart is a party!” She tried again when he didn’t even move a muscle. “And at a party, you dance!” Next thing he knew, she grabbed his hand and placed it on her hip while her hand sneaked up to the back of his neck, pulling him closer towards her until their chests were pressed together. Slowly but determinedly, she started to sway her hips to the music, automatically forcing him to move along with her.

Reggie moved along absentmindedly as his cheeks heated up at the close proximity in which they were dancing. He had never seen his best friend in any different way. Y/N had always been there and she’d always been just a friend in his eyes, but dancing so close to her gave him a whole different perspective.

He blamed it on being vulnerable post heartbreak.

After a refill on behalf of the Liquor Kings and a few songs dancing together, y/n was suddenly being pulled away by Julie and Flynn as they shouted, “Come on, Bitch! This is our song!” Y/N mouthed an apology to Reggie and joined her two best friends in their dance circle.

With his support system gone, the dark-haired boy had fallen still. He didn’t have another move inside him, not without her, at least. It was like y/n was the battery and now that she wasn’t empowering him to dance, there was no energy left inside him. So, instead of standing in the middle of the dance floor like an absolute loser, he shuffled into the kitchen to get something else to drink. He was in need of something stronger.

Luke had been chatting up a girl when he saw his buddy walking in, looking solemn for someone who loved going to parties. He excused himself and walked over to where Reggie was pouring himself a glass of whiskey.

“You okay, buddy?” he asked with worry laced into his voice. Reggie offered him an unconvincing smile as he poured the liquor into the empty red cup.

“Yeah, totally.”

Luke sighed and grabbed the bottle of whiskey from the boy’s hands. He poured some into his own cup before placing it a little out of reach from the sad bass player next to him, who glared at him.

“I’m sorry, bro. But you’ve been sad for an entire week. We let you be miserable but it’s gotta stop at some point.” Reggie scoffed as he stared at the brown liquid in his cup. “Listen, I know Lisa meant a lot to you and she was amazing and everything but you gotta let go. I know it’s hard, but you gotta forget about her.”

“How can I forget about her when she’s literally everywhere I go?” He nodded to somewhere behind Luke and when he turned his head, he saw the auburn haired girl talking to Carrie on the patio outside. “She’s doing this on purpose,” Reggie said through gritted teeth before chugging the 5 ounces of whiskey.

The guitarist blinked a couple of times, impressed at how Reggie could just throw that back without even flinching the tiniest bit. His ear suddenly picked up at the beginning notes of a song the bassist would always go crazy on at parties. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as an idea popped into his head.

Reaching over the counter, he grabbed the bottle of whiskey again, poured a bit into Reggie’s cup and guided his hand towards his mouth, demanding him to drink it. Confused, but obedient, Reggie threw back the bit of liquor. The burn in his throat felt right. Numbing.

As if on cue, three girls waltzed into the kitchen, singing along loudly to the first verse of the song as they approached the two boys at the counter. A smile befell on Luke’s lips as y/n tapped Reggie’s shoulder and beckoned him towards the dancefloor as Gimme Gimme Gimme (A Man After Midnight) by ABBA blared through the house.

Chuckling, and mostly because the alcohol was forcing him to, he obeyed to y/n’s rules. Luke, Flynn and Julie followed behind them, shouting along to the lyrics. The commotion lured the Liquor Kings to the dancefloor as well. This was the song Reggie needed all along.

“Come on, Reg!” Julie demanded as he was moving now, but not belting along to the words like he normally would.

As the chorus floated through the speakers, the magical powers of the ABBA song finally reached his brain and he started to shout the lyrics. The rest of the group threw their hands in the air, cheering the still brokenhearted boy on.

All he needed was his ABBA song to get him loose, to get him to forget all about the girl with the auburn hair. All he needed was his friends and a good party to let loose of all the negative feelings that had been bottled up inside of his chest over the past week.

By the end of the night, all six had to support Reggie as they walked to Julie’s house where they’d crash in the garage. He was singing a remix of all different ABBA songs whilst the others tried to quiet him down. Their giggles tangled up in the shushes and Reggie’s singing, carrying through the fresh, spring air.

“I love you, guys,” he slurred as y/n tucked him on the mattress. “Gimme hug,” he pulled the girl on top of him and held a tight grip on her body as she giggled. His lips pressed a kiss to the crown of her hair whilst she tried to wriggle loose.

“Reg, lemme go!”

“No! It’s cuddle time!” He protested and didn’t let go of his best friend.

“Fine, but at least allow me a bit more air.” Reggie’s arms loosened a little and y/n got situated properly. She laid on top of him, stomachs and chests pressed together, one hand tangled up into his dark hair while the other rested on his chest, next to her head. His arms were wrapped loosely around her.

His eyes were fluttering shut as he mumbled, “Can you stop spinning us around, y/n?” She giggled at his drunken mutters and started drawing patterns on his T-shirt clad chest. It seemed to relax him a bit as a big sigh of contentment expanded his lungs, bringing y/n’s head up with it too. “Goodnight, y/n.”

“Goodnight, Reginald.”

Saturday didn’t count. Everyone was hungover and didn’t want to move at all. So, they just watched movies together all day long in the garage, a tangled up heap of humans. But from Sunday onwards, Reggie was in a whole better mood.

A mood where all he wanted to do was write songs and be productive. So, that’s what he did. Every day he worked on the song; after school, after band rehearsals, even during his free periods. The words, the melody, the beat, it all seemed to just float out of him.

On Friday, Reggie told everyone he’d written a song and wanted their opinion on it. He was both nervous and excited as Luke would never listen to any of the songs Reggie wrote by himself. Though all those songs had always been country songs and Luke didn’t think country fitted the image of the band.

“No, Reggie, we’re not doing country,” Luke repeated for the nth time.

Reggie was fed up with the guitarist’s neglect of his creativity. “Shut your mouth and listen for once, asshole.” His voice was strident and taut. A tone he’d never used. The rest of the group was a little taken aback and exchanged nervous glances while Reggie handed out a sheet of paper with the song worked out on it. He’d used the copier at school to copy the page in his notebook.

They heavily discussed his idea for the melody and listened to his ideas for the beat he wanted until a song floated through the garage. Soon after, Reggie started singing the song too with Julie and Luke throwing in some harmonies that Reggie approved with a smile and a nod.

By the last chorus, everyone had the lyrics down and sang along with the bassist.

“Dance hard, laugh more, turn the music up now Party like a rockstar! Can I get a “what now”? I swear I'll do, anything that I have to Till I forget about… Jump up, fall down, gotta play it loud now Don't care, my head's spinning all around now I swear I'll do anything that I have to… Till I forget about you! Till I forget about you!”

As the music stopped, everyone stayed silent, basking in the adrenaline and the amazement of the song. This was exactly what Julie and The Phantoms sounded like. This was a soon-to-be hit.

“I think we’ve found ourselves our closing number for tomorrow night,” Alex said with a grin from behind his drum kit. The bassist was surprised to see Luke and Julie nod in agreement to the blondie’s statement. Reggie had finally written a song for the band they didn’t immediately dismiss.

They rehearsed the song a couple more times on Friday, and some more on Saturday before their soundcheck to tweak it a little bit until it was perfect and everyone had it down. Now all they needed to do was perform it at the end of their set at The Mint, a gig they landed thanks to their amazing marketing team -- Flynn and y/n -- and the fact the owner was a family friend of y/n’s.

It was a gig. And a gig meant exposure. And exposure meant the possibility of a manager noticing them increasing.

“You guys ready?” y/n asked as she knocked on the door of their dressing room five minutes before kick off. Her eyes darted from an all dolled-up Julie to a shirtless Luke and then to a drumstick-twirling Alex, realizing they were a man short. “Where’s Reggie?”

Luke shrugged as he pulled his T-shirt over his head. “He said he was going to the bathroom, but that was like half an hour ago.” Y/N pulled her mouth into a straight line before turning and leaving the room to find her friend.

Cruising through hallways, she finally stumbled on a room that wasn’t being used by them until she noticed the door ajar. She carefully pushed the door open a little further to find Reggie on the red carpeted floor with his phone in his hands and a tear running down his cheek.

“Hey,” she announced herself as she moved towards him. He looked up at her and offered her a half-hearted smile whilst wiping the tear away. “You’re on in five.” Even though the words screamed urgency, her tone didn’t and her actions didn’t either. She went over to sit next to him, shoulders touching.

“Yeah, I’m ready to go,” he said, but didn’t move.

Y/N’s eyes landed on the phone in his hands, a conversation blinking at her on the screen. At the very top of the conversation was her name and the only message she could read was “I miss you, please come back.” in a bright green.

Her body heaved as she inhaled deeply, “You can do this without her, Reg.” The boy shook his head in objection. “I know you can. This girl is not worth your tears and frustration. She’s not worth anything if she can’t see how amazing you are.” Reggie looked up at y/n, his eyes gleaming with tears as he listened to her words. “If she doesn’t appreciate everything you do for her and how much you cherish her, she’s not worth it.”

The girl fell silent for a moment, anticipating his reaction as their eyes were locked in an intense stare. What he did next was something she hadn’t calculated with the speech she’d prepared in her mind on the spot. His hands lifted to her cheeks and his lips pressed against hers in a spontaneous passionate kiss. He pulled back hesitantly but when y/n kissed back, every doubt in his mind just washed away.

Y/N couldn’t say she had ever thought of kissing her best friend, but at that moment it seemed so comfortable and familiar. Like she’d been doing it for years. Their lips just fit together so perfectly and moved in sync like a choreographed dance.

When they pulled back for air, the back of y/n’s neck was aflame and her lips tingled. The flustered Reggie in front of her coughed as he scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “I-I’m sorry, I probably shouldn’t have done that.”

She knew the only reason this happened was because Reggie was so overwhelmed with this broken hearted feelings and she was just there. A smile formed on her lips as she patted his chest and while getting up, she said, “That’s cool, Reginald. Glad I could be of assistance to let go of your frustrations.” She reached out a hand for him. “Now, let’s go rock this place, yeah?” He placed his hand in hers and let her pull him up to his feet. Entangling their fingers, y/n guided him out of the secluded room and backstage to where the others were waiting for their bassist to start their show.

“Sorry, guys!” Reggie said while the sound guy helped him out with his in-ears and another one handed him his bass.

Luke patted him on the shoulder. “You okay, buddy?”

“Yeah,” Reggie answered with a smile that for the first time in two weeks reached his eyes. He glanced over to y/n. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Okay, ready to go!” Sound Guy 1 said. Y/N and Flynn put their thumbs up to wish them good luck before the band rushed onto the stage, an uproar of cheers erupting from the crowd. They were rowdy tonight. A good omen for an amazing show.

“We’ve got one last song for you guys,” Julie said into her mic with a smile bright enough to light up the whole room as she glanced at Reggie. “You wanna introduce this one, buddy?”

He stepped closer to his mic, a nervous grin spread on his face as he spoke. “This last song is for everyone who has ever felt heartbroken before. Remember that even though it might seem dark and lonely without that one person there, there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. Follow that light because it will lead you to amazing things.”

The other band members exchanged glances, all with proud smiles plastered on their faces. Reggie had come a long way from two weeks ago and he still had a long way to go, but he was on the right path. As long as he had his friends, his band, his family, by his side, he’d be good. Even better if the girl that stood in the wings on his right was at his side too.

Alex counted them in and Luke and Julie began to play their instruments before Reggie’s voice floated through the venue along with the thumping beat of Alex’ drums.

“Get a call on a random afternoon I pick it up and I see that it's you Like my heart, you were breaking the news, you say It's over, it's over, it's over.”

He looked over at Julie and Luke while his fingers were plucking at the strings of his bass. They shot him an encouraging smile, offering him a little boost of confidence as he continued the verse.

“Heading out, cause I’m out of my mind All my friends are gonna see me tonight Stayin’ here until the sun starts the rise, And I'm, I'm gonna, I'm gonna, I'm gonna…”

The beat went up a notch as confetti cannons went off, covering their entire view in purple butterfly confetti pieces as they slowly whirled onto the dancing and screaming audience.

In the wing to Reggie’s right, Flynn and y/n stood, dancing and singing along to the music with the widest smiles on their faces. A big perk to being the band’s marketing team was definitely the free gigs they benefited from.

Luke then takes the next verse, his growly tone sending some of the girls in the front row into a frenzy. A smirk tugged at his lips upon noticing but then he focused his gaze onto Julie as he sang with her harmonizing.

“And you thought, I'd be here on my own Waiting for you to knock on my door Since you left I don't wait by the phone I'm moving, I'm moving, I'm moving”

Reggie walked over to Alex’s platform. The drummer shot him a toothy smile that could land him a spot in a toothpaste commercial. Reggie really appreciated the support his band gave during performances and with this song in particular.

“Found a place where I can lose myself And just leave your memory on the shelf See I'm fine, no I don't need nobody else Cause I'm, I'm going, I'm going, I'm going…”

When Reggie turned back to his mic, his eyes landed on y/n, and he shot a quick wink her way. Unbeknownst to him, this sent her cheeks aflame and her stomach fluttering. That kiss about an hour ago really wasn’t just something that happened because he was overwhelmed. She actually felt something then. And she’s feeling it now too.

“Dance hard, laugh more, turn the music up now Party like a rockstar! Can I get a “what now”? I swear I'll do, anything that I have to ‘Til I forget about… Jump up, fall down, gotta play it loud now Don't care, my head's spinning all around now I swear I'll do anything that I have to… ‘Til I forget about you!”

The bassist’s eyes now lock onto y/n’s as he sings the bridge towards her. She had barely even recovered from his wink and now he’s staring right through her soul while she had to act like it didn’t even affect her in any shape or form.

“Spending money like you don't mean a thing Going crazy, now don't even think Losing my mind, is all I can do Till I forget about you”

He turned back to the frenzied crowd as he belted out the high note.

The band then played a musical intermezzo. Luke joined Alex at his platform and Reggie stepped up to Julie’s keyboard as she played the synth-sounding notes. The Latina girl was happy to see Reggie in his element again and actually have fun as they played their set. It was a nice change from the otherwise solemn and sad Reggie they were plagued with in the past weeks.

For the first half of the last chorus, they all stopped playing their instruments except Alex. He went wild on the drum solo Reggie had blessed him with while the rest clapped their hands to the beat, getting the crowd to mirror them.

“Dance hard, laugh more, turn the music up now Party like a rockstar! Can I get a what now? I swear I'll do, anything that I have to Till I forget about…”

They picked their instruments up again and continued singing. Even the crowd started to get a hang on the lyrics by now, which hyped Reggie up even more for the rest of the song.

“Jump up, fall down, gotta play it loud now Don't care, my head's spinning all around now I swear I'll do anything that I have to…”

“Till I forget about you!”

Reggie belted out a high note, which made y/n’s heart leap. His voice had always been her favorite sound in the whole entire world but hearing it so confidently coming out of him had her on her toes.

“Till I forget about you”

He turned to y/n again as he sang the very last line with a certain glint in his eyes that she couldn’t quite place.

“I can’t forget about you!”

The band played their very last chords, notes or hit their last cymbals, and when the song rang out, the audience were applauding, cheering and whistling. But Reggie couldn’t bear tearing his eyes off of y/n.

She was smiling at him and he was smiling at her.

Both of them knew that he was okay. He was going to be okay with Lisa being gone because he had y/n by his side. She was the one who changed everything around. She was the one who made him go out to Carrie’s party. She was the one to remind him that he would be okay without the auburn haired girl. She was the one that helped him forget about her. She was the one.

JATP Taglist: @hannahhistorian92 @marinettepotterandplagg @thequirkybookaholic @bookdealer5 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @hemmingsness @iainttakingshitfromnobody @ifilwtmfc @angryknightstatesmantrash @kiss-themoongoodbye @rudysbay @thedarkqueenofavalon @caitsymichelle13 @calamitykaty @wiselight @kcd15 @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic @stars-soph @kinda-really-lost @notasofti @alexpjoyner @n0wornever @kaitieskidmore1 @tefilovesreading @happinessinthedarkesttimes

Names crossed out are the ones I couldn’t tag, sorry!

Lemme know if you wanna be on my taglist!

#julie and the phantoms #julie and the himbos #julie and the fat ones #jatp #jatp x btr #jatp x btr week #jatp-btr #reggie jatp #Jeremy shada #reggie x reader #reggie nolastname #reggie fic #reggie imagine #modern day!reggie #alive!reggie #2020!reggie #til i forget about you btr #reggie peters

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lunawritingspaceoxoxxx · 3 years

Text

You Right I

WARNINGS: RAPE, SEX TRAFFICKING, DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, FORCED PREGNANCY, MISCARRIAGE. I WILL HAVE TRIGGERING SCENES MARKED. NOT FOR THE FAINT OF HEART AND MINORS, GO READ SOMETHING ELSE.

2018

“Ethan….you know this isn’t right...Ryan is waiting for me at home...it’s our…” She whimpered as his hands traveled along her curves as he teased her, kissing down her neck. “Tesoro, we both know, what you want is not him.” He nipped at her ear as he slid his hand underneath her shirt as he pulled at her lace straps. Ethan pulled off her shirt, biting his lip as marveled at her lace covered breasts. He knew that boy wasn’t treating she wanted, she wanted to be treated like a princess, worshipped and loved, but in private, Ethan made sure that Y/N was his submissive, only here for his pleasure only and she loved that, he can just say hello and she’ll come crawling to him.

Y/N let her head fall back as she watched their bodies through the mirror on the ceiling, shuddering to the sight above them. Ethan’s tongue roamed her body as he slipped his hands in the matching thong. “Pay attention to me, tesoro.” With that, he tore the flimsy material from her body, dropping the shreds as he dropped her onto the bed, “Ethan, those were expensive!” He scoffed, tossing his shirt to the side as he climbed between her legs, which she quickly tried to close them. “Ethan..” “You want me, we’ve done this multiple times already, what’s stopping you now?” “Ryan proposed to me!” Ethan stopped in his tracks, thoroughly confused as he sat back. “What do you mean by that? You’re going to marry that coglione!?” She gawked at him, hitting his leg. “He’s not a fucker! He’s kind and he’s going to treat me right!” He pinched the bridge of his nose, cursing before he climbed out, grabbing his shirt.

“...Y/N, I’ll back off, go live your little fantasy life with Ryan. I’m more so pissed off that you weren’t going to stop this, were you?” He asked, looking down at her, absolutely disgusted. “You know that I love you and I would do anything for you, but this is a slap on the face.” Y/N rolled her eyes as she grabbed her clothes, shaking her head. “Why are you making this about you? You’ve been coming onto me and-” “And you haven’t stopped me, you’ve pushed me into closets, begging me to gag you on my cock,” He hovered over her as his dark eyes locked onto hers,”screaming me for me to fuck you with an audience. You seek me out more than I do, so tell me, what are you going to do when he can’t scratch that itch you have? Finger yourself at the thought of me, using you like a cheap whore. Am I wrong?”

Y/N looked the other way, knowing the truth as she was going to speak up, her phone rang. Future Hubby. ‘Babe, where are you? We have reservations tonight at that really fancy place…’ She began to dress herself, mindlessly agreeing with whatever he was saying. “Baby, I’m sorry, I’ve just been busy with work and you know my boss is trying to promote me…” Ethan rolled his eyes as he leaned on his bed, looking through his messages as he was determined to get laid tonight. He brushed back his long, luscious locks before looking back up at Y/N, narrowing his eyes at her. “Why are you still here? Unless you want to watch me fuck some random girl.” She quickly made her exit as she rubbed her eyes, not wanting to cry for a man.

Why am I crying over a man? I should be happy that I’m getting married to someone who I could trust with all my heart. She also felt extremely guilty, her hands weren’t clean as well, but she honestly thought that this was just going to be fling between her and Ryan. He wasn’t looking for anything serious, that's what she thought too until her parents gave her an ultimatum, find a decent boy and I’ll pay for your studies abroad and 4 years later, still with Ryan, he wasn’t a bad, just little bland and vanilla for her liking. She liked men like Ethan, who wasn’t afraid of pushing boundaries and trying new things and her father obviously didn’t care for Ethan.

To him, Ethan was a manwhore and had no redeemable qualities, he was just drummer in a band who loved to fuck and he didn’t his daughter failing prey to that. She quickly took a cab to their shared apartment, sighing as she set her things down. “Love? I’m home…” She trailed off, seeing him in the living room, sipping on a glass of wine. “Why aren’t you ready yet? I thought we had reservations-” “I cancelled them, I didn’t feel like going out anymore, not after what I know.” He tossed a thick envelope onto the coffee table as he carefully watched her. “Do you want to explain this...affair that you’ve been having behind my back for sometime now.” She swallowed nervously as she shuffled on her feet. “You can’t, can you? You’re just some slutty whore, who opens their legs out for anyone, don’t you? Maybe I can use that to my advantage, pimp you out and profit off you.” She rapidly shook her head no, slowly backing up as he stood. “No, I think I will, if not, I’ll send your precious daddy, every photo and video of you being a slut.”

“You wouldn’t dare, you simultaneously fuck yourself over too! M-My father-” Ryan backhanded her, rolling his eyes as he looked down at her. He watched as she started to cry, holding herself. “Don’t feel sorry for yourself, sweetheart. You caused this, you couldn’t be satisfied with what I gave you. Now, you’re going to be daddy’s good little girl and you're going to do everything I say. Y/N’s stomach fell in horror as she could only think of the possibilities that he was going to do to her, she tried scrambling to her feet, but Ryan was faster as he grabbed her hair, yanking her up. “You’re going to do what I say and you’re going to do it with no complaints.”

Ethan sighed as he pushed some random girl off of him, climbing out of bed as he walked to the bathroom. He tied his long hair in a bun, washing his face. He was serious about not contacting her, he wanted her to choose who she wanted and not play around his feelings. “I had fun last night, we should do it again.” He narrowed his eyes at the woman, shrugging off her hands as he faced her. “I don’t even know your name and I really don’t give a fuck.” She gasped as he pushed past her, getting ready for rehearsals. Once he stepped into the studio, he sighed as Y/N wasn’t there, she hasn’t been here in the past three months. “So we’re close to releasing our first album and we need to start really focusing in and producing like it’s our last thing. We’re gonna have to be in the studio more often than not, probably pulling all nighters. That goes for you Ethan, just slow down on the groupies, I know you and Y/N are going through a rough patch, but I’m going to need you to focus.”

Ethan just nodded as he stepped into the booth, grabbing his practice drumsticks. It was obvious that he was bothered by Damiano’s comment, he knew that Damiano picked up on his feelings for her and watched him do nothing about it, loving to throw it up in his face, every single time. “Dude, why do you do that?” Thomas questioned, giving him a side look. “You always comment on Y/N, maybe he doesn’t want to hear about her. Her snobby husband always has her on his arm, anywhere they go. Why remind him that he lost a good thing?” Damiano sputtered as he tried to deny his dickish attitude towards him. “Look, I know he’s still missing Y/N, but it’s been like six weeks, almost 2 months. Is the pussy that good?” “Damiano, please stop watching American TV, let’s just start recording, before we get too distracted.” Vic pushed everyone else in, closing the door behind them.

------------------------BAD STUFF, NO READ IF UPSETTING-------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Y/N, suck harder and stop using your teeth.” She flinched as she was abused by her “client” as Ryan watched, stroking himself. Ryan chuckled as he watched, licking his lips. He thought he was a genius, he preyed on her vulnerabilities and used her to where no one would believe her. “How much for her pussy?” The sleazy man croaked, reaching for her thong. “I have a suitcase for about ten thousand as a downpayment.” Ryan’s eyebrow arched up as he glanced over at the suitcase. “And if you allow me to cum in her, I’ll add another 30 thousand onto it.” Y/N looked between the two, growing nervous as she wiggled her way to the door. “...Add 20 thousand and you can do anything you want with her, just don’t kill her.” Ryan smirked as Y/N was pulled onto her face as the man forced his way inside of her. “God, her pussy feels so fucking good.” Y/N sobbed as she tried kicking him, just trying to stop this torture and the stranger shoved her face in the pillows.

Ryan sighed as his phone ranged, groaning as he answered it. “Ryan McGower, this has better be important.” “Hi, Mr. McGower, I saw your wife’s….interesting ad and I was wondering if she could handle..more extreme intercourse.” Ryan watched as she thrashed about, sobbing as she looked into his eyes. He could end this with one word, but she damaged him, what did Ethan Torchio have that he didn’t have? “Darling? Did you ever love that bastard?” Y/N gave him a confused look, shaking her head. “Who are you even talking about?” “Of course she can, I’m the one who’s training her. She can and will take everything you give her.”

She whimpered, cringing at her drenched panties, crying as she felt the man finally come inside of her. “Holy fuck, that’s some good pussy right there, I may have to come by later.” He smirked as he pulled apart her lower lips as they watched the cum slowly flow and drip out onto the floor. “She’s not on contraceptives or has that implant?” “No, I got them removed awhile back,” Y/N wanted to throw up, she quickly rushed to the bathroom, regurgitating the small breakfast that she had. She held the toilet as she silently cried, wanting this nightmare to end.

--------------------------BAD STUFF OVER-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ethan wanted to go home, this large crowd wasn’t helping his mood and he just wanted to go home and drink in the privacy of his own home. darling.y/n - last online 4 months ago Shutting his phone off as he tried to ignore that gnawing feeling that was eating at his stomach. “Dude, are you okay? You keep scaring off girls.” Thomas asked, shouted as he slipped in next to him. “Is it about Y/N?” Ethan finally had enough, wanting to scream this at the top of his lungs. “Yeah, it is, I’m in love with her and I just miss her so fucking much, she hasn’t kept in touch with me, so I don’t know if she’s doing okay. I’m just concerned because something doesn’t feel right and I can’t put it together.” Thomas blankly stared at him, shaking his head. “Dude, just go to her house, fuck her husband. What’s the worst could he do? Move halfway around the globe?”

Ethan jumped out of the taxi as he rushed to Y/N’s front door, quickly knocking on it. He started ringing the doorbell impatiently before a strange woman poked her head out the door, shaking her head no before handing him an elegant note.

For those who are wondering, the missus and I are going to our second home to celebrate our first pregnancy and we would like for any inquiries to go through our assistant before you attempt to personally contact us. If you would like to send us any baby needs, you can do so to this address.

-From the McGowers

The mysterious lady snatched it from his hands before shutting the door unlocking it, Ethan sighed as he kicked a pole, frustrated with himself. ‘A baby? Is that what she wanted, a family, we could’ve….’ He stopped as he realized that it wouldn’t have worked out, he would be traveling too much and he couldn’t ask his bandmates to accommodate a screaming baby. “Fuck that, I want to hear this out of her own words, if she’s happy, then i’m happy and i’ll call it a day.” He headed back to his apartment, dialing Damiano as he fast walked, ignoring the strange looks thrown at him. “Damiano, you have a bigger social circle than me and you probably rub elbows with rich people on a daily basis. I need you to find where Y/N’s second home is. I have a bad feeling about this.”

Damiano looked at his phone on the other line, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Mio caro amico(My dear friend), you need to let her go, she’s married now, has a husband now and she’s probably going to have a child soon. Why are you going to stop her happiness?” “Damiano, she wasn’t happy when she got married, you saw those wedding photos, she looked miserable as fuck in them.” Damiano sighed, pushing his partner off of him as he sat up. “If I help you and we find an answer, any answer whether you like it or not, we’re going to stop searching for her, okay?” “....Okay.”

#maneskin x reader #ethan torchio x reader #female reader

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writesowhatnext · 4 years

Text

crush: a noun and a verb // fred weasley

Summary: The reader works at The Three Broomsticks and has a bit of a crush on Fred. Well, more than a bit. Worse still, he knows it and he is one cocky bastard.

Request: Hi I’m not sure if you’re taking requests rn, but if you are, then I have an idea for a Fred Weasley x reader where the reader works at the three broomsticks and has a crush on Fred. He knows this already and purposely goes there (sometimes with George and Lee) to tease and annoy her. Ty, I love your writings x

A/N: this was such a cute request

Reader: unspecified

Warnings: swearing :) and also idk playful hitting I guess? The word abuse + bit of a steamy make out (not too steamy)

Fred Weasley was a menace to society, The Three Broomsticks, and, on a personal note, your entire existence.

You remembered the first time you met him all too well. You were behind the bar, somewhat overprepared for the influx of Hogwarts students you’d been warned about when two boys in robes sauntered in. They were obviously twins, handsome too and around your age with red hair and freckled skin and a distinct air of trouble. They laughed to each other as they walked over; one of them leaning on the bar to get your attention. What you didn’t realise until you got closer to the boy at the bar was how tall he was, or how lovely his dark eyes were.

“You alright there?” he asked, a charming smile on his face. You could feel your face heat up and whether he could see it or not, something about your bashful side-eye or immediate swallow to dislodge the lump in your throat gave away how nervous you were.

“What? Fine, yeah. Yes. You?” you blurted out. His eyebrows rose in amused surprise and you had to blink a few times before you remembered what you were being paid for. “Sorry, what can I get you today?”

His grin only widened when he saw how flustered you were, clearly enjoying that it was all because of him.

That was only the start of Fred’s monopoly on your attention. The second time he came into the pub, it was a sunny day and most students had gone elsewhere – the cosy atmosphere of The Three Broomsticks not a big seller in the sunshine. Not Fred and George though, they didn’t seem to care.

When they walked in, you couldn’t help but consider how attractive they were. Even after meeting them only once, though, you could tell them apart. You could tell which one had gotten you flustered at the bar and as you sat by the kitchens, ready for table service, it was hard to deny how attracted you were to him. Something about his confidence and the easy way he leant across the bar and the way he’d looked at you stirred something inside of you and whilst it wasn’t unpleasant, per se, you did not enjoy having a crush. You sighed, dropping your head into your hands and groaning in frustration. You had to curse yourself really: you get a new job and the first thing you do is go weak at the knees for a boy? Shameful, you thought.

“Y/N,” your boss said, handing you a plate of chips through the kitchen window. “I don’t pay you to sit there and think about how hard it is to be a teenager. Table twelve.”

Your expression turned dry at his words, but you didn’t say anything, only rolling your eyes when he couldn’t see as you picked up the plate and headed over to table twelve: a table crowded by two red-headed gentlemen with matching coats, butterbeer pints and, well, faces.

“Chips?”

You stood next to them; acutely aware of their eyes on you. The one that you’d spoken to before stared at you for a moment before a spark of recognition lit up his eyes and a smile lifted his features.

“That’s us,” they both said at the same time, moving their pint glasses out of the way. You placed the plate down gently, very much eager to leave without making a fool out of yourself by doing something stupid like throwing chips everywhere.

“You’re new here, aren’t you?”

Somehow, hearing him speak the second time only worsened your reaction. Your face felt like it was on fire and as you opened your mouth, every single word you’d ever known died on your tongue. You nodded. He noticed your stiff jaw and your avoidance of eye contact and he wet his lips, smirking.

“Well, we’re regulars so I think we better introduce ourselves; don’t you?” he stuck his hand out and for a moment, you just stared at his outstretched palm and debated whether it was good for you financially to leg it out of the pub. “I’m Fred.”

With a gulp, you wiped your palm quickly on your apron, hoping he didn’t notice, before you shakily grabbed his hand. His smile widened and you tried not to concentrate on it too much, already far too aware of his warm fingers surrounding yours. When he let go, the colder air of the pub was nice. It would be a lie, though, to say you didn’t miss the contact.

“And I’m George,” his brother said, folding his arms and looking at you with what could only be described as a shit-eating grin, a very different vibe to his brother. He made no movement to shake your hand and you were grateful. Given how completely nervous you were, you were sure it would’ve clammed up again instantly, had he offered.

“Y/N,” you nodded, smiling a little. Your nervous stuttering and sweating were starting to get on your nerves and you were keen to get a grip.

“You look a bit nervous there, Y/N,” Fred said, feigning mock concern. “Are you alright?”

In that second, you’d never been simultaneously more pissed off and attracted to someone. That cheeky bugger, you thought, teasing you for your crush on him. Annoyingly, his brashness only worked in his favour as you found yourself all the more attracted to him for it.

“Of course,” you tried to keep your voice level. You were failing if George’s amused smile was anything to go by. “Nothing to be nervous about, is there?”

You pursed your lips slightly, focusing on Fred for a fraction too long. If you’d looked any longer, though, you would’ve seen interest flicker in his eyes.

“If you’ll excuse me, gents, I’ve got to get back to work.”

As soon as you began to walk back to the kitchen, Fred whipped his head around to watch you with ardent curiosity. When he turned back, George was sending him a very deadpan, very knowing look.

After that, Fred came in every single weekend. Mostly, he came with George, but occasionally he would come alone. Sometimes he brought others with him. Many times, he bustled into the pub with a whole gang of students; one you recognised as Harry Potter, the boy from the papers. One very chilly day in December was no different. The pub was full of students trying to get in from the cold and Fred, one of them, as full of energy, as usual, steered a younger girl to the bar by her shoulders. She was much shorter than him but she had the same red hair and freckles. She was a great deal prettier too, mind you.

“Hello, my dear, dear Y/N,” he said, leaning on the bar as you cleaned a pint glass with a rag.

“Fred, what a pleasure.”

Your tone may have been sarcastic but you couldn’t hide the fondness that leaked through. It had been so long and yet you still couldn’t shake your crush. Of course, it didn’t help, though, that Fred never let you forget it.

“Y/N, this is my sister, Ginny,” Fred pointed at the girl vaguely, barely taking his eyes off of you as his elbows settled on the sticky wood beneath them. “Ginny, this is Y/N – the most beautiful barkeep in the world.”

You rolled your eyes at his words, used to his teasing. He always did this. He always complimented you to try to get a rise and, despite yourself, you couldn’t help your reaction to him. He thrived off your awkwardly shy expressions and shaky movements and your responses to his compliments spurred him on the most.

“I’m so sorry he’s your brother,” you said to Ginny, shooting Fred a dull glance. Her eyebrows, which had been tightly knitted together in a frown, lifted immediately and a smile spread across her lips.

“Me too, don’t worry. You get used to it,” she said. Her voice was surprisingly hardy for such a small girl and you wondered, for a second, what horrors Fred and George had put her through. You both rolled your eyes as Fred mocked hurt and with an awkward but sweet wave, she left the bar, probably in search of her friends.

“How about a free butterbeer for your favourite customer?” Fred asked, smiling cheekily. You bit the inside of your cheek, rolling your eyes again. You played along though, knowing that he enjoyed messing with you and you enjoyed, well, any time you could spend with him. You leant on the opposite side of the bar; eyebrows furrowed as you pretended to look around. You tried to ignore the close proximity between your upper arms.

“I don’t see Hermione Granger anywhere?”

He choked a laugh, unable to contain his toothy grin, obviously pleased at your answer.

“Now that’s just plain cruel.”

“And you deserve it.”

“Here I was, thinking you liked me.”

You narrowed your eyes at his sad puppy dog expression, barely noticing George approach. “And why would I like you?” you replied far too quickly. There was an edge to your voice, but you hoped he didn’t hear it.

“Very defensive. Did you hear that, George?”

“I did indeed, Fred.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think Y/N fancied me or something.”

You rolled your eyes, pouring a pint of butterbeer and pushing it over to Fred.

“It’s on the house if you piss off.”

Fred stood up dramatically straight, saluting you and shooting you a wink before walking over to where his sister had disappeared to, somewhere by Harry Potter and an assortment of other faces you recognised. The wink sent your mind into overdrive and with a marginally annoyed huff, you shook your head to try to dispel the heat from your cheeks; you hoped no one noticed it in the warmth of the pub.

“You know he fancies you too, right?” George asked, reminding you he was still there. He leant away from the bar on one of the beams holding the ceiling up.

“Pfft,” you reach for a glass, pouring George a pint. “Yeah, and I’m the seeker for the Holyhead Harpies.”

“Y/N, Fred’s dragged me in here nearly every bloody Hogsmeade trip for the last three years. Do you honestly think he’d do that only for a laugh?”

You shot him a dry look as you placed the pint on the counter.

“Fine, maybe he would. But not for you.”

You watched George fish through his pockets for some coins before offering them to you. You just shook your head, folding his fingers towards him and pushing the money away.

“He really does like you; he’s just a muppet that doesn’t know how to stop taking the piss. Think about it, yeah?”

Your nod as he left was absentminded, and you couldn’t help but stew a little on his words.

It wasn’t until you were ending your shift about a week later that you saw Fred again. He was wearing his Hogwarts uniform when he barrelled through the door and you nearly didn’t recognise him. You couldn’t deny he looked good and even as he stalked towards you, his snow-covered shoes ruining the floor you had just mopped, you had to admire him a little. Something about the rolled-up sleeves of his jumper and the red and gold of his tie was a good look for him and you could barely focus until he stopped right in front of you, almost trampling the mop in your hand.

“You know it’s not just a joke, right?”

It was then that you realised how serious he looked, and – wait, shouldn’t he be wearing a robe?

“Are you not cold?”

“Blood freezing, actually, but let’s not avoid the question, sweetheart.”

Too concerned about the weather and his lack of appropriate attire, you didn’t even register his words. You just grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him over to a seat by the fireplace. Without another word, grateful that everyone else had left for the day, you fetched him a blanket, tossing it around his shoulders before sitting down opposite him.

“What are you doing here? Are you even allowed here? Won’t you get in trouble?”

With the blanket huddled around his head, a boyish grin shaped his features and your insides twisted at how cute he looked.

“So, you care if I’m I get into trouble?”

You rolled your eyes, thumping him with the back of your hand. He rubbed his arm but his smile didn’t budge.

“I wanted to see you,” he admitted, an uncharacteristically shy look on his face.

“You wanted to see me?”

“Blimey, is there an echo in here?”

You went to hit him again but he moved away before you could. He tilted his head from side to side as if debating something.

“We were packing to go back home for the holidays and George told me that you think it’s all just a joke.”

“What’s all just a joke?”

You knew you were probably being dim but you didn’t understand what he was talking about in the slightest – you hadn’t expected to see him again until January and whilst that didn’t particularly fill you with joy, you’d made your peace with it.

“Christ, you are being thick today,” he said, barking a laugh. “Us. You think we’re just a joke. Me and you.”

Us? Your stomach turned inside out at the word. You hadn’t realised Fred thought there was a ‘you and him’. When you didn’t say anything, Fred looked down, messing with hte edges of the blanket between his fingers.

“And I couldn’t have you thinking that could I? So, I came down here-“

“Without a coat.”

“Without a coat,” he rolled his eyes. “Because I had to make sure you knew.”

“Knew what?”

You could feel your heartbeat in your ears and whilst you were partly sure of what he meant, you needed him to say it. Knowing your luck, you’d end up connecting the dots wrong and making a thunderbird out of a bowtruckle.

“That all those jokes and stuff-“ he looked at you then, letting out a humourless laugh. “I fancy you, Y/N, okay. In an actually quite big and honestly quite inconvenient way. And I realised, thanks to George actually, that you didn’t know that.”

You didn’t speak for a moment, mouth dropping open.

“You what?”

Your voice was much louder and much more incredulous than you’d intended. “You’ve been teasing me for bloody years and what? You actually feel the same?”

“Well,” he said with a small grin. “I wouldn’t say the same, you do have very strong-“

You moved to hit him with the back of your hand again when he caught your wrist and pulled you toward him. The blanket shrugged off his back as you were pulled over him, your faces dangerously close together.

“That’s practically domestic abuse.”

You could feel his breath on your lips.

“You know,” he wet his lips slowly, eyes flicking down to yours. “I’m quite glad I came,” he said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear with his free hand as you hovered over him. “Means I get to do this.”

His hand moved from behind your ear to your cheek and then he was kissing you. You would’ve been embarrassed at how loudly you sighed into his mouth had he not smiled, his hand abandoning your wrist to grab your waist, pulling you toward him so you were straddling his lap. Then his hands were everywhere, skimming up and down from your waist to your back to your hips; you could barely keep track as he stole your breath. The warmth of it all was perfect. His tongue lapped at your lips and your hands disappeared into his hair, pulling him closer. Against all that’s sane and good in the world, you both pulled away, breathing heavily. His hands settled on your waist as he stared up at you, eyes blown wide.

“Careful now,” he said, a smirk lifting the corner of his swollen lips. “Carry on like that, and I might think you fancy me or something.”

“You’re so fucking lucky I like you.”

And then you kissed him again.

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley #harry potter #Harry Potter imagine #writing #imagine

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pbelfz · 4 years

Text

Two to One | 1 |

Pairing: Bakugou x Reader x Midoriya Chapter Title: Lure Chapter 2 Story Masterlist Summary: You are a simple college girl working at a cheap, back alley café! The top heroes, Deku and Ground Zero, visit your work in hopes of ordering coffee, but they pick something else up instead. You begin an interesting relationship with the pair, while slowly becoming aware of certain underhanded tactics they are using. Idolization isn't always that bad... Right?

There has never been a slower shift.

(Y/n) sighed, looking over to her coworker, Hana. Hana rested her backside against the counter, busying herself with replying to direct messages on her phone. The pair were the only actual workers present today, unless you count their manager who has spent the entire shift in the back of the café arguing with her husband on the phone.

Both (Y/n) and Hana flinched when they heard a particularly loud shout coming from the ‘Employees Only’ backroom before glancing at one another.

“Uh… Should we go see if she’s okay?” (Y/n) asked, wanting to check up on her less-than-kind boss but anxious not to overstep a boundary.

Hana waited a moment before answering, both her and (Y/n) trying to see if there would be any more commotion. When silence resumed, besides for the mini fan blowing in their direction, (Y/n) and Hana both snickered.

“Serves that bitch right,” Hana muttered. “I hope they get a divorce.”

(Hana was still pretty bitter at their boss for making her stay late to clean the café on the night her mom went to the hospital — even after the shop was cleaned floor to ceiling for hours beforehand.)

(Y/n) joined Hana in resting against the counter, but the girls’ joshing was cut short when the bell over the café door rang, signaling the entrance of a customer. Since Hana was manned at the cash register, she turned to greet the guests.

“Welco—!” Hana’s face froze in what looked like fear. (Y/n)’s brow furrowed, and she turned her head back to the customers.

What she didn’t expect to see was both pro-heroes Deku and Ground Zero entering the small café in their full hero costumes, with Ground Zero’s gauntlets sitting outside.

(Y/n)’s eyes widened, now looking at the two heroes in a similar manner as Hana.

“I—,” (Y/n) started, but was immediately interrupted by Ground Zero’s unruly tone.

“Black coffee. Don’t fucking burn it,” he yelled. Well, he didn’t actually yell, but his voice was just so… loud.

“One matcha latte for me, please!” Deku added, peeping from behind Ground Zero.

The two men were large, and the hero gear was doing its job at accentuating their already-prominent muscles, as well as intimidating the two college-aged baristas.

After a second of silence and eye contact with Ground Zero that seemed to last much too long, (Y/n) and Hana both hurried themselves in preparing the pair’s drinks at a much quicker pace than usual. It may have actually been too quickly, as their preparation and familial routine with each other’s company seemed foreign, which was evident by the multiple spills on the ground.

Deku’s face slowly began falling as he watched the two girls scurry around each other in a messy fashion.

(Y/n) was carrying a hot pot of coffee over to the cups on the other side of the counter, almost running into Hana, who was carrying a jug of ice over the opposite side of where (Y/n) was going. They both stood in front of each other before shuffling, trying to avoid the other but failing.

“Move it!” They both shouted simultaneously before finally rushing past one another.

Ground Zero was watching them with a disgusted look. He was beginning to regret agreeing to try this café out…

After a few seconds of stirring, Hana outstretched her arm at lightning speed, holding Deku’s matcha latte in her hand.

“Here you go, Deku, sir!” She stated proudly.

Deku took the drink from her hand, sipping it before giving her a smile. “Thank you, it tastes perfect!”

As Deku was rustling through his hero costume to find his wallet, Hana gave (Y/n) a look of victory since she was able to finish first and have the customer satisfied with their order!

(Y/n), who had been struggling to find the correct type of coffee cup in her frenzy, scoffed to herself when she saw Hana. She pouted as she finally found the cups designated for hot beverages, mentally scolding herself for not restocking them sooner.

As she pushed a lid onto the cup, she turned toward Ground Zero, giving him a shameful look as she handed him his coffee.

He took it silently, placing 200 yen on the counter before turning away and walking towards the exit.

You’re… You’re not gonna taste it…?!

(Y/n) felt her stomach twist. Deku waved goodbye, following Ground Zero out of the café and continuing on their daily patrol.

A few moments of silence passed before both (Y/n) and Hana began freaking out. (Y/n) sunk to the floor, her back pressed against the counter with her hands on her face.

“Oh my god, (Y/n)! Can you believe it?! Ground Zero and Deku both came to our work! The Ground Zero! The Deku!”

(Y/n) was about to hyperventilate. She couldn’t believe her fucking luck! She had the opportunity to meet both Deku and Ground Zero, pro-heroes #1 and #2, and it just had to be when she was just finishing an 8-hour shift, wearing a gross barista apron with her hair tied up under her cap…

“Ground Zero didn’t try my coffee…” (Y/n) mumbled. Hana stopped her rambling and looked at her friend sitting on the floor.

“What was that?”

“I said, Ground Zero didn’t try my coffee…!” (Y/n) repeated louder this time, disappointed and embarrassed with herself.

“Uhh… Maybe because it’s hot?” Hana stated matter-of-factly.

This didn’t satisfy (Y/n), however, who stayed seated in her fetal position with her hands pressed against her cheeks.

“Hana, I think I’m gonna cry…” (Y/n) breathed. It wasn’t like she was Ground Zero or Deku’s biggest fan, or fan at all for that matter (her tastes in heroes were more… hot and cold), but to be in the vicinity of two powerful idols and symbols, and to embarrass herself in front of them at that! It was just too much.

How could someone not become starstruck when in the presence of a famous pro-hero?

“Oh, come on,” Hana quipped. “They’ll forget all about it. And us! I’m sure they already have! They’ve got more important stuff going on than two college brats that messed up an order.”

That somehow didn’t make (Y/n) feel any better!

The rest of the shift was extremely uneventful compared to the pro-hero occurrence. Hana had left a little while ago in order to go see her mom at the hospital before visiting hours were over, and their manager had left hours before, not even telling either of them goodbye.

So, (Y/n) was closing up, it seems.

She locked the door to the café and began wiping down the tables and counters.

Satou’s, the café she works at, doesn’t get a lot of traffic, so it was of course very odd to see the two pro-heroes entering earlier. Perhaps it makes sense, though, as that way they can avoid paparazzi.

While pondering the situation, there was a knock on the small window of the café’s door. (Y/n)’d be lying if she said she didn’t jump. She paused wiping down the counter and stared at the door, wondering if she was hearing things. After a few moments, the person knocked again, and (Y/n) got the feeling that they could see her, so there was no point in hiding.

She set the rag down and grabbed a broom, as she cautiously made her way over to the door and ducked down. She peeked her head up to the small window on the door, and her heart skipped a beat when she saw Deku standing awkwardly. He smiled warmly at her when he saw her small face in the window.

(Y/n) gasped and ducked down again. What the hell?! Where… Why is he back…?!

She quickly stood up and fumbled with the lock, eventually yanking the door to the café open, the sound of the bell the only thing making a noise.

“Err… Ho—.. Hello…! Umm…,” (Y/n) botched her own greeting, wide eyes staring up at Deku, who seemed to be trying to calm her down by giving her a sympathetic look. Something to her left shifted, and she immediately tensed even more at the sight of Ground Zero leaning his back against the building.

“Hey, um,” Deku glanced down at (Y/n)’s nametag which displayed her surname, “(L/n)!”

(Y/n) thought she was going to die. Deku just said her name! Kind of.

“Kacchan and I wanted to talk to you about something, if that was okay? May we come in?”

What is this? Is this good cop, bad cop? Did I do something wrong? Was the coffee that bad?!

“Wh… What?” If (Y/n) had the gall to slap herself right now, she would. That’s the best she can say right now?!

Deku must have noticed her face paling, and he tried gesturing for her to calm down, giving an awkward smile. “You’re not in trouble or anything! We just…,” he looked to his hero partner for help, who was still leaning against the wall, not looking at either of them. If Deku could guess, he was probably getting increasingly more and more pissed at the situation.

(Y/n) stared at them with wide eyes, her gaze going back and forth between Deku’s welcoming look and Ground Zero’s back. Her heart was pounding, and her palms were sweating. What… Is happening…?!

“We’d just like to talk about something with you,” Deku gave a boyish smile and rubbed the back of his neck.

“I, um… I mean, okay…,” (Y/n) answered cautiously, holding the door open for the two men to enter the closed café.

“What was the broom for?”

(Y/n) cringed at herself, “Uh… Self-defense.”

Of all the words to describe the current situation, ‘awkward’ was definitely an understatement.

The two heroes sat at one of the dining tables in the café, and (Y/n) sat on the other side of the circular table.

God… I know I look a mess right now… Please don’t look at me.

“Did… Did you want something to drink?” (Y/n) asked politely, as if they were guests in her home.

“Water, please!” Deku requested. (Y/n) nodded and looked to Ground Zero. The explosion hero had begrudgingly followed Deku inside when (Y/n) invited them in. As he now sits leaned back in his chair with his arms crossed, it didn’t take a genius to figure out that he didn’t want to be here. He shook his head, indicating that he didn’t want anything to drink.

(Y/n) got up and went to the mini-fridge kept behind the counter, pulling out two water bottles — one for her and one for Deku. She returned and placed the bottle down while sending Deku a smile, the both of them watching her the entire time.

Silence ensued, and (Y/n) didn’t know how much longer she could hold her forced smile. She fidgeted under Ground Zero’s intense gaze, and it didn’t help the fact that he wasn’t saying anything.

“So…,” Deku began, feeling the uncomfortable air between them. “Kacchan and I were won—,” he was interrupted by his partner.

“You were wondering that shit, Deku. Not me,” Ground Zero stated.

(Y/n) looked between the two men. Deku gave his partner a scolding look, but then shot (Y/n) an apologetic smile.

“Okay, then I was wondering if…,” Deku began. It was probably the most intense few seconds of (Y/n)’s life.

“…You would like to have dinner with us?”

(Y/n) froze, and she stared back at Deku. Us…?

The pair was silent as they waited for her answer.

“Why….?” (Y/n) asked quietly after a few moments. Deku seemed to be thinking for an answer before responding.

“Because you’re cute. Do we need another reason?”

Ground Zero rolled his eyes, “‘Do I need another reason,’ Deku! I’m not a part of this.”

(Y/n) thought she was going to vomit and die. Deku… called me ‘cute’…?!

She looked at him like he had grown two heads. “Deku, I-,” said man then interrupted her.

“Oh, you can call me Midoriya! This is Kacc—I mean, Bakugou.” Bakugou shifted in his seat and looked away, either feigning disinterest or actually disinterested.

Perhaps it was her naivety that got the best of her, or maybe it was the thrill of being scandalous for once in her life, but (Y/n) gave her impulsive answer after a few moments of thinking and weighing her options.

“It’s alright if you don’t feel comf—,” Midoriya began.

“I’ll go.”

Midoriya looked at her with a surprised look, while Bakugou held a shocked expression. Or, as shocked as he can look with constantly furrowed brows. Midoriya felt the need to clarify her consent.

“Are… Are you sure? You answered that pretty quickly!”

(Y/n) nodded. “Yes… I’m sure,” she said slowly, as if trying to make sure this situation was really happening.

Midoriya looked at Bakugou with a gleeful smile, who ignored him and turned away again, playing off his initial shock.

“Okay, well, um… Great! Is Kanda okay?” Midoriya asked the barista.

K-Kanda…?! That 3 Michelin star restaurant?! Oh, God… One piece of sushi there could probably pay off my tuition… Oh my God, what am I doing?! That’s way too luxurious…!

“That’d be perfect,” (Y/n) said with a confident tone, trying to pretend like she regularly makes decisions like this. Midoriya seemed to have noticed, though.

“Ah, don’t worry. We’ll pay,” he reassured. (Y/n) held her smile, but subtly released a breath in a relief!

“Great, now we’ve got bills, and a fuckin’ pet to pay for,” Bakugou complained rather loudly. (Y/n) learned quickly that he did not try to hide his distaste for things.

Midoriya wrote down his and Bakugou’s number on a napkin sitting on the dining table, passing it over to her with a smile. (Y/n) then anxiously wrote down her own number on a napkin and gave it to Midoriya. “We’ll be in contact,” he told her.

“Um, I—.. Okay,” (Y/n) took his napkin and folded it up.

The two heroes stood and turned to leave, only Midoriya waving goodbye. “I’ll text you!” He shouted as the door closed on the way out.

(Y/n) sunk to the floor and breathed in and out in deep heaves. Deku…. Is going to text me?!

It may have been an immature decision to agree to eat dinner at a restaurant whose bread is worth more than her family’s name with the top two heroes, but… They’re heroes! And they — or at least one of them — noticed little ol’ (Y/n)! Even in her disgusting work polo and apron, she was asked to dinner by the #1!

(Y/n) squealed, letting her inner fangirl out. She’s going to be the number one hero Deku’s date!

#bakugou x reader #midoriya x reader #izuku midoriya #bakugou katsuki #izuku x reader #katsuki x reader #mha #bnha #bakudeku #tto #izuku midoriya x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakudeku x reader #bakugou x reader x midoriya

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sokkascroptop · 4 years

Text

traitor. (sokka x f!reader) pt 8

part 1 | part 7 | part 9

A/N: seems a bit anticlimactic when we all knew it was going to happen. I hope y/n learns that she isn’t the burden. Anyways, here it is.

Y/N bit her lip to stifle a snicker, she heard Azula do the same on her right. Y/N felt a twinge of sadness for what she had done. Here she was, laughing with her friends like she’d done nothing wrong.

The Earth King had welcomed the four of you, no questions asked, into his court. The disguises were working and for once it felt like things were going in your favor. Y/N knelt at the foot of his throne with Azula, Mai and Ty Lee, as King Kuei recounted all that happened. Y/N had to admit, he was a little dramatic as he gestured around wildly, so much that he was constantly pushing his glasses up his nose. Y/N was surprised the bear didn’t take his hand off when he came too close.

“You couldn’t have come at a better time. My most trusted advisor Long Feng and his Dai Li agents tried to take control of Ba Sing Se from me.”

Azula shook her head. “It’s terrible when you can’t trust the people who are closest to you.”

Blood rushed in Y/N’s ears like the thumping of drums. Surely Azula wasn’t talking about her? Right? No. No, she didn’t know. She couldn’t know. Y/N was careful when she gave Suki that fan. It was just a coincidence that The Earth King had just been betrayed by his long time friend and close confidant at the same time that Y/N had done the same thing to Azula...

“–luckily the rest of the Dai Li are absolutely loyal to me, and we haven’t had a problem.” Kuei leaned over to pet his bear on the head. “Isn’t that right, Bosco?” he placed a kiss on the bear’s nose.

“Ew,” Mai muttered beside her.

---

The Earth King gave the girls a separate house to stay in while they were there. It was next door to the palace but Azula was happy for it; it was outside of any prying eyes and ears there might be.

Ty Lee and Mai were seated at the large vanity cleaning their faces of the thick greasepaint. Y/N was on the balcony looking at the stars, and Azula was pacing and plotting behind her. Their faces were already scrubbed bare, having raced to the mirrors first.

“We have come across an extraordinary opportunity girls.” Azula drawled as she approached Y/N.

“Mai finally gets to wear makeup that not totally depressing?” Ty Lee giggled.

“Ha. Ha.” Mai glared at her and then held her cloth out to Y/N. “Please come get this off my face.” She demanded. Rings of black circled her eyes and she still had white paint on the tip of her nose. Y/N brushed past Azula–who went to stand where Y/N was before and wiped gently under Mai’s eyes.

“I’m talking about conquering the whole Earth Kingdom,” Azula said as she stared out at the palace grounds. All three girls jerked their heads around to stare at her.

“For a hundred years, the Fire Nation has hammered away at the walls of Ba Sing Se from the outside. But now we’re on the inside and we can take it by ourselves.”

“Gosh, you’re so confident. I really admire that about you.” Ty Lee gushed. Mai and Y/N looked at each other and simultaneously rolled their eyes.

Azula continued. “From the inside we’re in the perfect position to organize a coup and overthrow the Earth King. The key is the Dai Li. Who ever controls the Dai Li, controls Ba Sing Se.”

“How do you know?” Y/N asked. She reached for Mai’s chin and continued wiping her face.

“The Dai Li work as a team. They wouldn’t be divided in who they were loyal to. I bet that Long Feng still controls them from prison.”

“So what’s your plan?” Mai asked.

“Glad you asked.” Azula’s gold eyes glinted dangerously in the light.

---

Ty Lee and Mai both had said good night and went their rooms about a hour ago. But Y/N couldn’t make herself get up and leave. She laid on the floor of Azula’s room on her back, staring at the wooden beams above her. It didn’t matter how tired she was or how much she wanted to sleep in a bed, once her head hit the pillow, sleep would evade her. Guilt would poke at her until her head ached and the sun was rising.

She wished she had a way out. A way to leave Azula and the girls and go back home without getting in trouble, but she knew couldn’t have both. She couldn’t leave and still be friends with them. There way no easy way for her to tell them either. The only way she could leave is if she snuck away.

“I appreciate you coming with me,” Azula said from the balcony. She rested her head on her hands and looked out at the earth kingdom, land that she was about to claim for the Fire Nation.

“I wasn’t aware I had a choice in coming.” Y/N replied.

“You didn’t. Still. It’s much better to be doing this with friends at my side.”

“Yeah,” was all Y/N said.

“I trust you, explicitly.” Azula turned from the balcony and towered over Y/N.

Y/N rolled to her feet. “Yeah?” She was taller than Azula, but she always felt like she was looking up to the younger girl. There was a little skip in Y/N’s heartbeat. That... was unexpected.

“I know that you would do anything I asked you for.”

“Azula I–” Y/N bit her lip. She held back everything she wanted to come flowing out of her. Azula, I’m leaving. Azula, I’m sorry. Azula, I didn’t mean to hurt you. Azula, I love you.

Instead Y/N asked something safer, but had the same heaviness about it. “Azula, why does everything fall to you? To us?”

“Because whose else could do it?” Azula narrowed her eyes. “Zuko is a failure. Iroh is a failure. Everyone fails. Except for me. Taking Ba Sing Se will be the first of many victories I will take in my father’s name.”

Y/N didn’t know what to say to that. She just nodded like she understood. She kind of did, her father always needed proof that she was good enough too. But he was nothing like Ozai.

Y/N packed her bags that night. She didn’t have much, just a few changes of clothes, her sword and her armor. And then she sat there. All night, awake staring at nothing until her eyes burned with sleeplessness; until the sun peeked over the horizon.

Then she painted her face and got dressed in the Kyoshi warrior dress and pretended that she didn’t mean to leave at all. Because that was just who she was.

Y/N was a coward. And she hated herself for it. She could feel her soul being ripped apart at the idea of staying. But she wasn’t strong enough to stand up for herself and she wasn’t strong enough to leave. She was loyal to Azula. So she was going to do the only thing she knew how to at this point, and it was conform; obey.

Hearing what Azula had to say last night made her feel worse that ever. Azula had said she trusted her, and that meant a lot. She sometimes showed that she lay trust in Y/N, but telling her? Someone who was normally so headstrong and independent admitting that she was putting her faith into Y/N; she could tell it was difficult for Azula to admit.

---

They sat in the throne room laughing. Their plan was going to work. The Dai Li had heard Mai and Ty Lee talk about being from the Fire Nation while Azula and Y/N hid in the shadows. They slunk off to tell their boss quickly after that. Azula was going to take Ba Sing Se for the Fire Nation and Y/N couldn’t say she wasn’t happy for her friend. This was something that her father would be proud of. Y/N’s dad would be proud too, and if he told her that, Y/N was sure that she wouldn’t stop smiling for a week.

It felt weird to follow along with their plan and laugh and joke but she cared for these girls. There was no doubt about that. They were her family, and the last thing she wanted to do was hurt them. She had pushed away that pesky guilt before, she could do it again for their sake.

The door opened with a bang. The watertribe girl they’d been after, came running in, a flying lemur was perched on her shoulder, chattering noisily.

“Oh, thank goodness you’re here, Suki!” the waterbender was looking directly at her. Y/N touched Suki’s headband self-consciously.

“Something terrible is going on. The Fire Nation has infiltrated the city. I just saw Prince Zuko and his uncle! We have to tell the Earth King right away!”

Y/N let in a sharp intake of breath. Zuko was in the city? Iroh was alive? She looked to Azula who was already walking towards the girl.

“Oh don’t worry. I’ll be sure to let him know.”

Something changed in the girl’s face. She didn’t look comforted by the sight of them anymore, she looked scared. Something about Azula had tipped her off that they weren’t the real Kyoshi warriors. She turned like she was going to make a break for the door but Ty Lee was already there, chi blocking her.

The waterbender fell to her knees in front of them, her arms hanging limply, and uselessly at her sides. The flying lemur had taken off, leaving at the first sight of danger.

“So Zu-zu’s in the city too? I think it’s time for a family reunion.” Azula stood over the girl. “So while we’re dealing with Uncle and Zuko. What are we going to do with you? Y/N?”

“Yes?” Y/N stepped forward and stood next to Azula. The watertribe girl gave her a look that could kill.

“I want you to kill her,” Azula murmured.

“What?!” Y/N looked at her incredulously. That was not something that Y/N would do.

“ I want the Avatar, not some water tribe savage. She is in my way. Take out your sword, and do as I tell you.” Azula was amused even as she said it.

Y/N wanted to drop to her knees. Azula knew. She had to know everything. Y/N was not a master at lying, she never had been but she thought she was hiding her torment well enough. As the realization dawned on Y/N’s face, a smile lifted on Azula’s.

“Don’t be so caught up on the killing part, Y/N.” Azula reached up to touch Y/N cheek but she jerked away. “You already killed all of those Kyoshi warriors.”

A tear slipped down Y/N cheek. “No…”

“You thought I didn’t know about that?” Azula threw her head back and laughed. “I know everything about you. I know when you’re nervous, when you’re scared. You haven’t been able to look at me since. It was obvious.” She pointed at the water tribe girl. “So do what you’re meant to do and maybe I can find the strength to forgive what you’ve done.”

Y/N didn’t know what Azula expected her to do. This was never part of the plan. None of this was. These were all just schemes that Azula made up along the way to give her something to win at. If this is what loyalty was, Y/N didn’t want that. This was not something you asked of your friends. This was a game to Azula. A test to see the kind of person Y/N could be. And Azula acted like she already knew the answer.

“No.”

“What?” Azula growled. Y/N had shocked Azula and herself. She had shocked everyone in the room. Y/N was Azula’s lap-dog. She didn’t tell her no, nobody did.

She couldn’t force herself to do it, not for anything. The alarm bells that had been tinkling before, were ringing full force in her ears now. “I won’t kill someone that doesn’t deserve it. It’s not right.”

“I’m not asking for your opinion on the morality of murder. You need to learn your place!” Azula’s voice was dangerously calm. It was worse than if she had been shooting flames at her.

Y/N was the complete opposite. She was enraged that Azula would even suggest she kill for her. “If this is my place, then I don’t want it! I don’t want this! We were the ones who attacked them in Omashu. We have been chasing them. They have only defended themselves against us. I think that makes us the bad guys, Azula!” Everything was spilling out now. “If you want her dead, you can kill her yourself.”

“Where do your loyalties lie?” She asked it slowly, mockingly, through her gritted teeth. It was her. It had always been her. Except for now it wasn’t.

“They used to lie with you.”

Smoke rolled out of Azula’s nose as she tried to control her breathing. Control was what she was all about. Controlling those around her but also controlling herself. She’d never let anyone know that she was spiraling because of the words that came out of Y/N’s mouth.

Azula never took her gold, piercing eyes off of Y/N. “Mai, take her sword. Ty Lee, get the Dai Li and have them escort the savage and the traitor to the crystal caves below the palace.” Her voice shook with anger.

“You were my friend,” Azula spat in Y/N’s face.

“Friends don’t order their friends around like their personal guard.” Y/N wasn’t sure where the surge of confidence came from.

“I chose you. You betrayed me.” And Y/N thought Azula might cry there in front of her. That word–chose–used to mean so much to Y/N. It used to feel special, Azula never used it to describe anyone else. Now, Y/N knew why. Now, it just felt like an insult, a kick while she was down.

“I choose me.”

Y/N didn’t look away. Not like she might have done a few months ago. Not when Mai stripped the belt that held her sheathed sword off of her, not when she forced her to kneel in front of Azula like she was a prisoner and not an old friend who had come to her senses. Y/N was done. She was free. But now she felt more trapped than ever. What had she just done?

---

A/N: I added some things this morning. I think I’ve read it so much that words have lost all meaning. I hope you like it! ❤️

Taglist: @myexgirlfriendisthemoon @reclusive-chicken-nugget @astroninaaa @bubblebars @beifongsss @crownofcryptids @welovediaaxx @littlefluu @lozzybowe @thebluelcdy @kellllybeans @sugarmoongey @fanficdepot @teenbiology @13-09-01 @riespage @davnwillcome @naanlianid

#sokka x reader #sokka x you #sokka x y/n #atla #avatar the last airbender #atla sokka #avatar: the last airbender #avatar #avatar resurgence #avatar fic #a:tla #suki #azula #ty lee #mai #zuko #katara #aang #toph beifong

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riverdale-retread · 3 years

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Riverdale S4 E19 (False S4 Finale) (I say false because this doesn’t end the Sr Year arc)

- I really enjoyed this ‘story within a story’ episode. I kind of want them to do something like this about Jughead’s first novel, later.

- The Jones-Smith semi-siblings (what the heck do we call this trio of Charles, Jughead and Betty?) are watching one of the death-reenactments that Jellybean is making side by side with the tape of the actual Blossom murder. They simultaneously wince at the gunshot, a nice detail. Jughead pronounces the word “voyeur” and “auteur” about as weirdly as Reggie says the word “distributors” and it’s very endearing.

- Betty can’t help with the investigation, because she has to proof the yearbook tonight. And she manages it! And of course Mr Honey acts like a bullying boss who wants you to fail - he brings up that the printers’ deadline has passed, and when it turns out she’s already talked to them (because wow Betty is good with details and deadlines) he then reminds her of an internal deadline that he set. This type of boss really actually exists in real life, and there are many, many studies about how men sabotage women subordinates in this way in particular.

- When Betty announces to her friends what has happened with the yearbook, I was taken aback at how nobody says thank you nor expresses any sort of sympathy for how much work that was for her to do. Do the rest of them not care as much to have this (false, brightened, only the positive) record of their past four years? All of them including Veronica assume she wouldn’t have taken it on if she didn’t truly want to, maybe? I’m a little bitter on behalf of Betty, that the reward for good work tends to be more work, not more recognition or thanks. Veronica does offer to pay for the printing but Betty doesn’t like this idea.

- I enjoy the character construction of Mr. Honey, because both these seemingly contradictory things can be true: (a) A man who hates teenagers stays in a career where he’s surrounded by teenagers all day every day and (b) he actually takes pride in the job of being a principal as he defines it (mostly, as he says “discipline, order” and also Get People Into College) and be good at it.

- The well of my creative unconscious is tapped out. Meanwhile, Jughead has received a conditional acceptance from U of Iowa, and it turns out that he hadn’t just done nothing - he found places that had a form of rolling admissions and was planning to start Spring Semester. Archie gives him a high five and Betty says she’s proud.

- The people who are not allowed to go to prom as of now are: Fangs, Reggie, Toni, Kevin, Betty, Cheryl, Veronica, all the Vixens. SO it’s Jughead and Archie going to prom and their little bit about going to prom together and not putting out is so cute. And not for the first time, I wish there had been more scenes of all these people being students together, though clearly this is not the story the show wants to tell.

Of course, when you list out their crimes, you can kind of see why Mr Honey hates this class: the first four made a pseudo porn in school uniforms and distributed it online; Reggie captained the football team that didn’t seem to win much; Cheryl terrorized that coach he hired; Cheryl, Veronica and the Vixens sang a highly sexual song at him in short shorts in a public diner, and Betty, who was supposed to be his golden girl, totally cheated (as far as the evidence shows) on the quiz show she was supposed to win. Archie went to juvie and back but that didn’t happen on Honey’s watch, and Jughead’s activities as Serpent predate Honey as well.

Betty comes up with a great writing prompt - Killing Mr Honey - and they groupthink it- the time, the place, what to wear, how to transport the abductee, where to take him, how to torture. Cheryl & Veronica tell everyone they ‘mapleboarded’ Penelope and absolutely nobody is surprised.

And just to beat a tired drum - the casual usage of waterboarding in American tv dramas is very disturbing, and I will nerd out and leave just one factoid here: In the wake of World War II, the U.S. executed Japanese war criminals convicted of, among other crimes, waterboarding American prisoners of war.[14]

It’s an Oldie But a Goodie. Instead of murder, Reggie just wants to pull off a prank, and superglues Mr Honey’s office. I love Holden Honey’s performance - that bitter-sour glare as he’s slow-mo wheeled out of the office is hilarious. And our core four looking so attractive and cute and satisfied is delightful.

Killing Mr Honey by Jughead Jones

This is what Jughead thinks about the following people:

- Mr Honey is smart and he pays very close attention to his students. In the story Honey knows exactly who hangs out with whom and what all their loose connections are. When he recognizes one voice he knows the entire team. And because of all they’ve done, Mr Honey is within rights to hate them.

- Kevin is not really in the story and doesn’t know what’s really going on. Jughead finds Reggie more interesting than Kevin. Kevin does not matter to Jughead.

- Reggie really doesn’t like being called stupid, and has a pained inferiority complex that can be used to provoke him into violence (Of course Jughead has used this himself). Jughead also knows that Reggie is abused by his father (He has Mr. Honey say it.) Reggie is also incredibly endearing and funny in Jughead’s view (The delivery of the line Am I the only one that hasn’t gotten rid of a dead body before? is amazing.) And Reggie is the one with the moral qualms, the ethical twinges, about murdering someone. Does Reggie have the softest heart? I liked that what precipitates Reggie’s meltdown is an Archie Andrews/ Donna Sweett type story about at teacher getting involved with a student. Of course, in v.2, he loses some of this detail.

- Cheryl is very unflappable and cannot be manipulated using normal methods by an adult, and she hates being treated with cruelty to an allergic degree. And yet Cheryl is the second most softhearted, and breaks out in intense tears at Reggie’s death.

- Veronica is smart (she checks for Honey’s pulse first, and knows he’s dead and is calm.) In Version 1, Veronica is appalled at Reggie’s murder and Jughead thinks she sees Jughead as being the same as Betty. Veronica is completely the leader in Varchie, so in Version 2, Veronica is the one who does the morally correct thing, and is shown standing next to a giant statue of the Virgin Mary, to boot.

- Archie is reliable, and can bring the muscle when he needs to, intervening against Reggie’s potentially untimely confession. Archie has been to prison, so his goal is to not go to prison. Under Veronica’s influence, in v.2, Archie is improved.

- Betty is the only one to not panic upon the ‘death’ of Honey. Jughead sees Betty as ruthless and completely invested in ‘her future, and as someone who is absolutely unstoppable. Betty is also psychic twins with Jughead, according to Jughead.

- Jughead is also immediately able to accept the reality of Honey’s death. Jughead is using the experience of punching Tall Boy and having to hold Sweet Pea off of him, and then coming back to the bunker to find his corpse (and the very panicked Fangs and Sweet Pea) and getting rid of that corpse. Does Betty know about this? In any case, Jughead is also ambitious and cold - Are we going to be monsters in college or in jail?

This is so ironic that he says this, that he’d align with Betty, Archie, Veronica and Cheryl to cover up Reggie’s death and go to college, of course, because Veronica, Archie and Betty actually had a silent agreement to do exactly this, when they thought Jughead was dead and Betty might be blamed.

In Riverdale Reality:

- Jellybean and her crew are complete assholes. That little psycho sent a second by second recreation of Midge’s murder to her mother.

- The terrible children are celebrating their prank but of course Mr. Honey threatens to cancel the entire prom, and Cheryl was immediately enraged and attacks Reggie. And Reggie says he did it for everyone, and that he didn’t act alone. And who would be stupid enough to help Reggie? Kevin and Archie! I love this moment, the two of them sheepishly raising their hands.

- But the past four years of exposure to two smart girls has rubbed off on Archie! He says: ‘We need to think strategically” but very importantly, doesn’t try to come up with anything and instead tosses it straight to Betty, for a plan. She finds out that Honey has cancelled every single prom, so all these kids, who are kind of the scion of the oligarchs of Riverdale (such as they are) activates their parents and guardians.

- When Betty and Jughead are asking for FP and Alice to help (parent to child and couple to couple and EWWW), we are treated to the view of an absolutely fascinating (and kind of hideous?) surrealist paining of a cartoony serpent that hangs above the mantle.

- PARENTDALE SLOW MO ENTRY TO SAVE PROM. I mean they have the mayor, the president of the PTA, a tabloidy journalist, a lawyer, two middle aged thugs. I derno why Hemione and Nana get to go to this meeting, but they go. They work it out and they have the announcement at the Diner. I’m glad that these people, teens and adults, got to have this one nice thing, that is solving a normal problem, and celebrate each other. I of course adored Cheryl summoning the (fractured but as yet not fully aware) Bughead pair with the ever classic Hobo & Bride of Hobo.

- Mr Honey wont give up and creates a fake voyeur video to cancel prom, except the Smith-Jones Semi Siblings are way ahead of them and they figure it out. Betty finds the telltale reflection of Honey on the glass!

- Jughead, in writing this submission, uses the facts he knows about his actual friends, switches people’s names, and thinks that’s enough. He does this later for his book, using the Serpents in this same way, and they are not in any way amused.

-Bughead are being super simpatico and sexy and fun with each other in this Blue and Gold editing room while Betty is reading over Jughead’s drafts, and I really think that as far as Betty is concerned, playing with Archie and giving him that vengeance rejection was a necessity and she got that off her chest and she really isn’t hiding anything or feeling bad about it. Sorta like she had something stuck in her teeth and finally got it out with floss and why would you keep thinking about something like that?

- Kevin summons them because he’s the town crier, and they all get a final comeuppance from Mr. Honey. And this is great, because these kids really are still just stupid kids, in some way. They want to get out of Riverdale, most of them, and they’ve been so horribly wounded by things that have happened here, and yet Honey getting ‘fired’ and leaving? They consider it a victory for themselves until he puts them right.

- Is Mr Honey the reason Fangs gets a scholarship to his university?? Miss Bell points out something really important - No Students Have Died Under His Watch. (Well except Jughead, temporarily, but he wasn’t going to Riverdale.)

- By the way - Jughead just never has an actual room in the Cooper house, right? Do we ever see it? I really can’t recall. Where the heck does he keep his clothes??

- Jellybean can’t take how stupid they’re being anymore so she just straight up delivers the videotape directly to Bughead as the soundtrack intones Everything’s a Lie/ Everything’s a Lie. She’s made a tape of the Murder Of Mr Honey.

- Just like Jughead thought even before he gets to see the letter, Honey actually understands the people he hates, the class of 2020 of Riverdale. “He’s a special kid, he is a superb writer, who needs a break, good teachers, and a healthy environment,” says Holden Honey, and this is something Jughead really wanted someone to say about him. So, Jughead has quite the harem of men who adore him from close and afar - Mr. Phillips (of Southside High), Mr Chipping (of Stonewall High), Bret Weston Wallis, and now Mr. Honey.

#riverdale recap #riverdale episode recap

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dutchforstrangers · 3 years

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EXTRA! DIGIWEEK DAY 5 - CROSSOVER

Let's do some headcanons, shall we? Last week @imaginedigimon posted these headcanons of a mixed Asian/Hispanic Sora and it led me to this:

In the Heights... I LOVE this musical so much <3 All the latino and dancing and vibing and yes! Here's the trailer:

youtube

And like I said, those mixed Asian/Hispanic headcanons gave me the reason to think of In the Heights x Digimon Adventure crossover headcanons. And what better day to write such a post than on Crossover day 5 of @digiweek! So here goes.

The story

The story here is basically the same. There's a guy (Usnavi) with a store, inherited from his deceased parents, who has this dream to go back to the land he was born in, thinking that's his dream. However he was raised on this block in this city he's living in now, so eventually he's torn between leaving or staying. Simultaneously all the other characters have their own aspirations and dreams, but they shouldn't forget where they came from. That's the main theme and story, the characters will be quite the same from the movie/musical, but with some changes here and there suiting the Chosen Children and the relationships between them (for now I will only cover the 8 Digimon Adventure 01 crew members).

I want the set up to be a little different though. So it's not like a latino block on the Island Manhattan in NYC, but it's more like a city or village on it's own. Something like Big Hero 6's 'San Fransokyo'... Maybe 'Santo Dotokyo'? Could be. Anyway, it's a mix of Latino and Japan (that's actually a very weird combination. I like it!).

How about pairings you may ask?? You'll find out when you proceed reading ;D

The characters

Usnavi / Taichi Yagami: Of course my boy is the lead! He's smooth yet awkward, fierce yet cute, determined yet clueless. Sounds like our goggle headed fella right? So Taichi owns the store, like a true work-a-holic works very very hard. He's friendly, always supporting and beaming positivity. He knows the whole community and the whole community knows him, everyone well aware of his father's dream to patch up the bar on the exotic island they came from. Taichi though is still figuring out his dream and is torn between staying for the community (and his love interest...) or leaving for his (father's?) dream. Plus let's not forget he has some very serious salsa skills like a true latino! The dancing is on, gosh how much I love my Taichi swaying...

Nina / Hikari Yagami: Taichi's younger sister, kind and innocent, who followed their mother's dream to study abroad. The community believed in her and fully supported her like the little light she is, she being the first one to 'make it out'. However during her time abroad she starts to feel lonely and left out, gets homesick and travels back to her hometown and brother with the idea to never go back abroad. Though she just needs the courage to go through and that convincing might come from her community, her brother and her lover.......

Sonny / Koushiro Izumi: In this universe Koushiro, who works with Taichi in the shop, is a 'cousin' from Taichi and Hikari! He has been abandoned by his own mother -who probably was someone with a drug addict- but then he was taken in by Taichi's and Hikari's aunt and uncle..! Yes, this makes Kae a blood relative to Taichi and Hikari, being Yuuko's sister (I love that idea, although it makes both Taishiro and Koukari impossible...). Koushiro is a smart kid, quiet, but always there with his words right on time. He wants to go to college or university badly, the smart kid he is, but because he was never officially adopted and therefore isn't fully registered, his chances are low... Taichi and the community might be of help here.

Vanessa / Sora Takenouchi: WEPA VANESSA SORA! In the musical Vanessa aspires to become a fashion designer. Oh hey, that's such a Sora! Where Hikari wants to come home, Sora desperately wants to leave everything behind to start anew. She works in Mimi's beauty salon only to make money so she can move to a bigger city. It's kind of like a rebellion against her traditional mother who wants her to stay in the community and take over the flower shop. However she might be staying as fashion inspiration can also come from within the community and a certain someone she loves *cough*Taichi*cough*, but doesn't want to admit (this is a very self indulgent Taiora AU thank you very much).

Daniela / Mimi Tachikawa: The salon lady! Or boss is better. She is an entrepreneur pur sang and makes sure everyone looks good with beautiful nails and shiny hair! She's fierce, doesn't take no for an answer (no nonsense policy yup) and always has her eyes and ears open. And her mouth too, because the girl looooooves to gossip! Especially with her two salon companions (from which one HAS to be Miyako -and yes Mimi and Miyako are the lesbian couple-), ¡No me diga! Also: she absolutely loves to tease employee Sora by telling untrue rumors about Taichi just to see how Sora reacts. So sly Meems.

Benny / Takeru Takaishi: This might come as a surprise, because to be honest Taichi would fit Benny so well. But I went for Takeru as Benny, because Takeru can be just as smooth -and kinda sly-. Takeru is one of Taichi's best friends if not thé best friend (I love to explore that dynamic)! A best friend with a love interest in the best friend's sister a.k.a. Hikari. They are secret lovers who are not as secretly in love (Nina Kari and Benny Keru sitting in a tree... k i s s i n g) as they think they are. Takeru works across the street in a record store (yes, this is a big difference from the musical itself) where he takes over the community radio station in the morning. There he has a story telling podcast, telling fictional stories based on the stories of the community (Mimi always informs him with the latest gossip). Eventually he wants to go to college, just like Hikari studies abroad, to become a writer.

(Graffiti) Pete / Yamato Ishida: This is even more of a stretch, but bear with me! Graffiti Pete is a true artistic lone wolf! Spraying art on walls through the whole city and it's absolutely fabulous. He's Takeru's older brother, but was raised by his father after their parents splitted up, and also friends with the gang. Though he may have made some art on the window shutters from Taichi's shop... However, Yamato is not only a graffiti artist, he's also a musician, always 'borrowing' stealing records from the shop Takeru is working. Yamato is just a very mysterious guy, but also a very nice friend with artistic and deep emotional help from unexpected corners.

Piragüero / Jyou Kido: Haha okay, this is weird..! Actually this is great role for Daisuke, but because we're here giving the roles to the Adventure 01 cast, this one goes to Jyou. Simply because piragua (which is shaved ice) guy has a heart of gold and is super reliable, one of the oldest ones on the block, one who has seen it all. He's also a bit silly, doing this horrible work on the street, while he failed to become a doctor (so sad), but he brings joy to others! And also great advice, especially when it comes to following dreams no matter how big or small. Jyou is the one who doesn't let you forget where you came from!

And there are so many more headcanons I could come up with, so this might gets a continuation eventually. But for now, this is it (:

#digiweek2021 #digimon #headcanons #digiweek day 5 #crossover #digimon x in the heights #in the heights #let's start the dance party

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claudiasjeancregg · 3 years

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we can find each other this way, i believe

for the tww flowershop au, created here!!

for ariel and bianca, and everyone who’s helped create this lovely universe<3

title from Come and Find Me by Josh Ritters, a song @aerielz introduced me to that we both now think should be this au’s anthem. seriously, listen to it.

Toby opens every morning, bright and early. Comes with the job of owning the shop, he supposes. But still, it wouldn’t be unreasonable for Sam to relieve him of the duty for once.

He hears a shuffle at the door, keys jingling, and looks up without a word.

“Morning, Toby!” Donna breezes in, all sunshine and cheerfulness even at 6 AM— she’s exactly who people expect to work at a flower shop. He is decidedly not.

“Hey, Donna,” he mutters, lost in thought. Something’s happening this morning, something big that’s lying in the back of his mind, almost close enough to remember but just out of reach.

“Is there- do we have a big order we’re doing today?”

She frowns. “No, not that I know of, at least. Why, do you want me to do something?”

He shakes his head, giving her a sideways look. “Aren’t you busy enough?”

“Yeah, I really am,” she sighs, dropping her keys on the counter and jumping onto it, like his remark had been some invitation to vent. It had not been, as a matter of fact.

“I love my job, don’t get me wrong. But Josh doesn’t let me do anything! I’m stuck working on bacon in the back-“

“Bacon? Is that some tattoo shop slang I'm not aware of? Or— Donna, please don’t tell me it’s a sex thing.”

Donna gives him a petulant look, eerily similar to how his older sisters looked as kids when they hadn’t given what they wanted. “You’d think so, but it’s actual bacon. They seem to think I’m training to be a butcher, not a tattoo artist.”

Toby lets out an uncharacteristic laugh and sits next to her, mind filled with images of a future Donna with dyed hair and full tattoo sleeves.

She shoves him off the counter. “What?”

“Come on, it’s funny! You’re Donna Moss, you really want to work at a tattoo parlor?”

She turns her head firmly, staring straight at him. “Yeah! Yeah, I do. I want to work everywhere and learn everything and not just be Donna Moss, the blonde ditzy girl who can’t stick to a major.”

Well, he can understand that. Donnatella Moss is an interesting girl, the opposite of what he had expected to find in someone as— well, as blonde and sweet and young as her. But ever since she had walked in, incessantly asking questions about his shop and practically begging for a job, Donna hasn't stopped surprising him. She’s eager to learn everything about everything, flower meanings and proper bouquet arranging and the ins and outs of running a small business. She’s a business major— well, sort of. He said that tentatively because Donna had changed majors over and over again through the years he had known her. But this one seems like it’ll stick. She has a knack for business, enough of a knack that she had been able to talk herself into jobs at two stores on the same block.

As much as Toby judged her at first, he has to admit that she knew what she was doing. And he doesn’t want to lose one of his best employees— not that he would ever tell her that— but he isn’t about to hold her back from something that for some reason, she seems very interested in.

“Okay. Then I say do it. If that’s what you want, the shop can operate without you.”

“Uh, you know I’ve already been working there, right? I don’t need your permission for everything, you ass.”

The combination of Donna’s snark and the ridiculously big grin on her face almost makes Toby laugh.

“Hey, I’m still your boss. I should have gotten rid of you when I had the chance,” he groans.

“I mean, I already have a job lined up! It’s been like two weeks, I’m sure they’d take me full time if I asked—“

“Shut it, Blondie.”

“Don’t call me that.” She rolls her eyes, but the whisper of a smile on her face gives her away. “Speaking of working at a tattoo parlor—“

A smile grows on her face as Toby shifts uncomfortably in his spot.

“Donna, I swear—“

“Oh, don’t even try and deny it, just tell me how you're going to woo her.”

“Woo her? What is this, one of your Cary Grant movies? This isn’t the 1930s.”

“Um, Cary Grant was the 1940s. Well, and 50s. And I know what year it is, the year doesn’t matter,” she says with a bright smile, pushing herself off the counter and landing solidly on the tile. “Every girl wants to be wooed, Tobias. You work at a flower shop, she’s upstairs, give her a rose or something!”

“God, it’s like I haven’t taught you anything. A rose is nowhere near the most romantic flower, it’s too cliche,” he mutters. He’s barely listening to her response, though, too busy imagining what would happen if CJ knew the full truth behind the bouquets he gives her every morning. His gift for her every single day, love and adoration and strength, placed delicately in a vase and arranged to perfection. And she still thinks it is just a decoration for her shop, a way to brighten up the waiting room in between the burly guys and terrifying girls who frequented the tattoo parlor. CJ had no idea what the flowers really meant.

Donna grabs a handful of blood red roses, camellias and carnations from the shelf— a handful that had probably been painstakingly put together and shelved by him, or Sam, or Ginger, or even Donna herself two days prior— and threads one through her hair with a concentration and precision Toby envies. She holds the rest out to him with a knowing look.

“Sometimes cliches are cliche for a reason.”

A retort dances on the tip of his tongue, a retort that will surely remind Donna he isn’t about to take romantic advice from a woman whose only experience is with douchey ex-boyfriends and her new boss— the boss she had pined after for years, long before she had been given a job.

But he doesn’t get a chance to answer before the old bell rings on the door, pulling him out of his thoughts. Toby looks up— and in less than a minute, he’s finding the customer the exact right flower to give to a new neighbor (forsythia, for anticipation of good things to come, apple blossoms, for good fortune, and peppermint, for cordiality).

It reminds him of the flowers he gave to CJ when she first moved in, after they met for the first time. He still remembers the way she looked, walking into the shop, her ever-present grace and fire shaking him to his core. The customer leaves and he’s left to stare at his wall of flowers, nothing to focus on but Ginger and Bonnie’s quiet whispers in the storeroom and the pounding rhythm from the deafening music upstairs. He only sits for a minute before his mind drifts back to thoughts of CJ.

And in a second, like someone had whispered it into his ear, he remembers exactly why today was a big day. Six months ago, she had started her tattoo shop. Five months and three weeks ago, he’d seen her face through a glass door and his heart had practically stopped. She said she likes surprises— a small detail that’s managed to stay in his memory for all these months, like a diamond buried in sand waiting for someone to come along and lift it out. And if his father had been able to charm her with flowers, so can he. He’s a hell of a lot more likable than his father. But that isn’t the point, Toby reminds himself. The point is to celebrate his friend’s victory. If there was ever an occasion for flowers, this is it.

He decides to create a bouquet that reminds him of her— daffodils and dahlias and daisies, gladiolus and ivy and yellow jasmine and kennedia. He doesn’t dwell on what they mean for too long, the sentiment behind the flowers obvious to him but hopefully not to anyone else. His plan fails in a remarkably short time.

“Hey, boss— well, that’s a very romantic bouquet,” Ginger points out with a curious glance, poking her head out of the back room.

“Boyfriend or crush?” Bonnie adds on as she hugs her girlfriend from behind.

Toby doesn’t answer. He’s too busy trying to think of a way to get out of this conversation— apparently, the sentiment was obvious to everyone. The downside of working in a flower shop was that the romantic flowers never went unnoticed. They all know the bestsellers, of course, the red roses and tulips and orchids, typically bought by a regretful boyfriend who they all knew was going to be dumped in 2 to 6 business days. But a bouquet like this either means a customer had done a hell of a lot of research, or someone in the shop had picked the flowers themself. So, in a few seconds, Toby’s private, meaningful bouquet is about to become everyone’s business.

“I don't know,” he mutters. He can’t even think of a feasible lie— he’s too busy trying to calm his heartbeat that’s pounding in his chest, faster than the most enthusiastic drummer in a Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade.

“Uh, I think it’s a crush,” Ginger notes. “Gladiolus and daffodils? Seriously—“ She shakes her head, the amused reaction of someone in a happy, stable relationship who had forgotten what it was like to be one of the lonely hearts. “—It screams unrequited love.”

Toby’s head snaps up at that. “Love?” he sputters. “That’s just- I don't know. I think it’s just a crush.”

He’s showing all his cards, now, and one of the girls is bound to figure out who put together the bouquet in a minute or two. But he doesn’t care. He turns around, about to walk to the cashier and hoping no one stops in.

“So,” Donna steps into his path with a knowing glance, the glance of someone who’s very obviously been listening this whole time. “You made the bouquet, right?”

“Donna—“

“Oh!” She lets out an excited squeal and throws her arms around him, before realizing exactly what she was doing.

“Donna,” he sighs.

“Right. Sorry. But is this-“ she lowers her voice. “This is you wooing, right?”

Toby lets out an exasperated groan. But she’s right, of course. This is, in some twisted way, his idea of wooing. Donna spends the rest of her shift giving him tips on what to say to CJ while simultaneously filling orders in the storeroom, a combination that leads to more than a few mistakes on her part.

But eventually, she leaves, and he’s left with a too-long lunch break to contemplate how to give CJ the gift. They’re just flowers, he reminds himself. Don’t make it weird, Ziegler. But his gift is more than just flowers, it’s a reminder that there’s someone rooting for her. A reminder that he’s proud of all she’s done in this past six months. Well, that’s what he hopes it’ll be.

Toby hears the bell ring and looks up— for once, he’s not expecting to be CJ. But it is. She stands outside and meets his eye with a careful glance, more anxious than usual. This is the moment he’s been waiting for, he thinks as she comes in.

“I got you coffee,” she says without a greeting.

He can’t stop staring at her. God, she’s beautiful. Tattoos dance down her back like battle scars, tangible reminders of her strength every time she walks into a room.

“Thanks, CJ.” Donna swoops in with an easy smile and gives Toby a nudge, silently telling him to stop staring like a pervert and to say something. Or maybe her look said none of that, and he was just projecting.

“You’re- uh, thanks for the coffee,” he says abruptly, turning back to the task at hand.

“It wasn’t for you.” She smirks as she says it, eyes dragging over his body in a way that made Toby feel like a live wire. He can feel her eyes sparking with electricity as she watched him stock the new shipment of flowers.

God, she makes him act like such an idiot.

Toby can't imagine what CJ must think of him, the owner of the shop downstairs who has a huge crush on her and couldn’t form more than a few sentences when she was in his line of sight. She’s just so strong, so pretty— not that beauty is all that mattered to him, but it’s practically impossible not to notice her deep brown eyes and hair that flowed down her back like a cascading waterfall. And her grace, the way she commands all the attention when she walks into the room, how she is sharp but never cold, never mean. And her genius amazes him— he isn’t one to be overly complimentary of another person, but she’s taken a part of the building that hadn’t had customers in years, and turned it into a lively, successful tattoo parlor. He knows they’ve only talked a few times in the months since she had started her shop, but her very presence brightens up his store.

She is like a sunflower, light following wherever she goes.

And maybe she has no idea who he is, beyond someone she talked to occasionally who brought her flowers for her shop. But for some reason, he still finds himself desperately wanting to know more about this woman with a million tattoos adorning her arms, this woman who knew his father and loves Donna as much as he does and has turned a lifeless corner into a booming business. He wants her, and it feels inevitable, a predestined fate that was sealed the moment he first saw her.

CJ leans her arms on the counter and lets her head fall. He isn’t sure what to do. So he doesn’t ask questions, doesn’t press, just pulls out a chair and motions for her to come sit in it. That lifts the awkwardness out of the room, thankfully, as she collapses into the chair next to where he’s working. They sit there for a while, just like that. And then he feels her breath on his shoulder and suddenly can’t think of anything but how good she smells, and how easy it would be to turn around and pull her closer. She’s like a magnet, this woman. It drives him crazy.

“Toby?” Her voice is soft, delicate, nothing like the steely way she usually speaks.

“Yeah,” he swallows, preparing to answer a question about why he acts so weird whenever she’s there.

“What’s the bouquet for?”

He turns around and follows her eyes to the bright bouquet of flowers still on the counter— the bouquet he made for her less than 20 minutes ago.

“You,” he manages to say. Her eyes widen, a delighted smile growing on her face. “I mean, it’s your sixth month here. I figured you deserved a gift for the shop’s anniversary. I know it’s not much, but—

“No.” She stops him, hands over her heart like he’s touched her deep inside, in a place behind her walls and behind her cool facade, the place where her strength lives. It pulls on his heartstrings, the thought of her choosing to trust him with that. It lights him up inside— the thought that he made her happy, even for a minute, hits him in a place he didn’t know was able to feel so deeply.

“I- really? I mean, thank you, it’s beautiful.”

“So are you.” He regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth. Who said stuff like that? He isn’t some cheap hack trying to pick her up at a bar, he’s her friend.

CJ’s eyes are wide as she tries to pick out the meaning of his words. He worries he stepped over the line, ventured into the unknown territory they have yet to allow inside their newly-forged friendship.

“Well, you certainly are a gentleman,” she laughs a little bit. It didn’t feel like a joke. The air between them is taut, filled with more tension than a magnetic field. CJ leans in, just a little bit. And suddenly Toby wants nothing more than to lean into her, to pull her close and show her how much he had meant his words. But instead, he pulls away. She was like the sun, and he knows that if he leans in, they will collide. They will burn bright and flame out in an instant. She matters too much to him for it to be a fling, and right now, that was all they would have. Toby grabs the bouquet and holds it in between them.

“Here,” he breathes, hoping she’ll stay for a while longer but also knowing that if she does, his resolve will crumble in a second. “Congratulations.”

CJ gives him a cautious, slightly confused, smile— “Thanks.”

She takes it from his hands, fingers brushing as he lets go. She blushes, the pink on her cheeks complimenting her black camisole. He watches her go, the bell ringing as the door slams shut. He hears it again a few minutes later, a few customers filing in to fill the stretch of emptiness that happens in the hours when he’s the only one in the shop.

He doesn’t love CJ. He barely even knows enough to like her, but that is something that happened without him even noticing. Like a wave crashing against the shore, he didn’t realize until he was drowning in it. CJ Cregg is an enigma, a woman who can make anything happen and does, a woman who makes him feel like he’s breathing in electricity.

Life’s a funny thing, Toby thinks. No one ever sees the big things coming, until suddenly your estranged father is dead and you’re the sole owner of his flower shop.

It’s startling, how much the last year has changed him. The thing he always was ashamed of growing up, something he never quite understood as a kid, has somehow become his solace. It’s grasped onto his heart, this lively little corner of DC, and refuses to let go. He even finds he’s minding the shrill bell above the door less as the months go by, and the silence more than more. A customer walks in, and Toby rises to help him. He pushes the thoughts to the back of his mind— his unnecessarily morose self-reflection can wait. He has a job to do.

#ahhhh i did it!!!#i’m sure there are many mistakes but. here you go. this is obviously for the #tww flowershop au #tww #tww fic #my fic #fic tag #cj x toby #aleena writes #okay guess i’m doing this!!

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jpegjade · 4 years

Text

Hang 10! - Spencer

we’ve got a fic ladies and gents! it’s not the most interesting one but it’s a fic in the middle of my crazy life. hopefully i’ll be able to more along the way. i’ve got the next one planned out and i’m gonna start writing it soon.

wheelchair reader x crutches spencer

warnings: idk none really. not much happens. v v v domestic

________________

It was a normal Saturday for Spencer. Sitting with ice on his leg, the leg where he took a bullet only a few weeks before. He wasn’t allowed to put weight on it just yet and doctor’s orders were to keep it elevated as much as possible.

Spencer was making notes in a book he’s read a thousand times before. He liked to use his free time to read and even make notes on what the obscure quotes could mean, in and out of context.

Out of nowhere, his phone rang. Causing him to lean over to the coffee table to grab it, he saw it was just Morgan. According to the team group chat, everyone was supposed to be at Rossi’s house, christening Rossi’s recently completed pool with burgers and drinks.

“Are you getting ready, pretty boy?” He usually didn’t call Spencer unless it was important. Spencer wondered whether this was actually important.

“For the pool party I didn’t want to go to?” Spencer asked, putting his book on the coffee table.

“Exactly.” Morgan exclaimed. Spencer wondered what he was up to.

“I didn’t want to go for a specific reason. I’m supposed to be resting my leg.” Spencer sighed, looking down at the ice pack resting on his leg.

“Your bae will be there.” Derek said, nonchalantly.

Spencer understood what the endgame was now. It had been everyone’s endgame since the beginning.

“I hate that word. If you want to acknowledge that it’s a word, which I do not. I much prefer another moniker to talk about y/n. I’d love something classic and timeless but fun, like they are.” Spencer blushed, realizing he said more than he should have to Morgan.

“Ah, so pretty boy does have a huge crush on our new teammate. We suspected it but you just admitted it. Emily owes me money.” Derek chuckled.

Grabbing the ice bag off of his leg, Spencer grabbed his crutches and put the ice bag into a bowl he laid out for himself to hold the ice when he was done. He always thought ahead because he hates cleaning up messes.

“What do you want me to do about it? I’d like to maintain a professional relationship with them for as long as possible, thank you. Work relationships with co-workers when you’re working in such close proximity is very difficult to navigate, not to mention the statistics of getting married after meeting and working together is only as high as 31%. 69% of work relationships are more than likely to fail. Who knows what…” Spencer was anxiously moving around his apartment, going off on a tangent.

“Reid. Hey.” Derek cut off Spencer’s train of thought. “Come downstairs. Let’s go.”

Spencer grabbed his cardigan, slipping it on, before he and his crutches made their way to the building elevator.

In the car, Derek was humming along to the radio while Spencer looked out the window. He was glad Derek wasn’t trying to talk to him the whole drive because he needed time to plan what he was going to say to y/n.

To everyone else, this was a simple pool party that was meant to welcome y/n onto the team while simultaneously christening Rossi’s new pool. It wasn’t a big deal because for the past few weeks, y/n had been instrumental in the cases they covered. Everyone was so excited about the new addition to the team, especially Spencer.

To Spencer, this was a nerve racking opportunity to fail in front of y/n. Ever since their first interaction, when y/n corrected Spencer on a statistic about serial killers, Spencer was intrigued. He knew you didn’t have to have a 187 IQ or an eidetic memory to be smart but you were consistently going toe-to-toe with him on every fact, sometimes beating him to the punch. You had yet to interrupt him or even act like his tangents bothered you. In fact, a couple times, you pulled Spencer over to hear the rest of his tangent after everyone left the room.

“Hey kid. You okay? You look like you’re going to be sick.” Derek pulled into Rossi’s driveway with a concerned look on his face.

Spencer’s sickness wasn’t Derek’s concern. His concern was getting the smell out of his carpet once Spencer let out his stomach contents inside the car.

Derek leaned over Spencer, putting his arm towards the door but Spencer thought he was trying to hug him in an attempt to comfort him. This was not the case. So when Spencer wrapped his arm around Derek’s torso while Derek pushed open the door, Spencer was met with a very confused look from Derek.

“I read that wrong.” Spencer said.

“Let’s go, kid.” Derek and Spencer climbed out of the car and walked to the door. There was no need to knock so the boys just let themselves in.

Spencer was immediately drawn to your laughter as he and Derek entered the house. Without realizing it, he started walking with his crutches to the backyard, where he saw you sitting in your wheelchair, talking to Garcia. He paused as he looked at you, taking in how nice you looked in the setting sunlight. You weren’t guarded like you were at work but you weren’t relaxed either. It looked like you were on edge but there was something so calming about you that his nerves seemed to disappear almost completely.

“Boy wonder is on his feet!” Garcia said, noticing Spencer standing in the backyard doorway.

Spencer watched as your smile shrunk before you looked in his direction. He wanted to look away but when he saw your smile grow as you waved at him, his hand waved just slightly. So many thoughts ran through his head about you at once that he couldn’t decipher which thought he wanted to focus on.

Garcia waved him over to you before winking and leaving. Spencer looked at you as you squinted daggers into the back of Garcia’s head.

“I like the embellishments.” Spencer said, looking at your wheelchair.

You tilted your head as you looked at Spencer in confusion before you remembered: Penelope bought you some badass clips for your wheels. They were incredibly small but they were just noticeable. They looked like the clips you would put on your bike in the 70’s. They were neon colored and even though you didn’t normally like that kind of stuff, something about the thought Garcia put into it made it special. You hadn’t had anyone do that for you before.

“Oh, thank you. They weren’t my idea so I can’t take credit but without the wheelchair, there would be no clips so...” You grinned, too shy to look at Spencer.

Everyone had gone inside to get drinks while you and Spencer were silently hanging around each other. Both of you were too afraid to really start a conversation of some sort because neither of you knew where to start.

“Why aren’t you inside with the team?” Spencer asked, sitting in the patio chair next to you.

Propping his crutches against the wall, you took notice of his hands fiddling in his lap. It was like he needed to keep moving when he couldn’t go anywhere. You hadn’t noticed that about him before.

“I’m still getting used to them…” You said, looking at your hands in your own lap.

“Oh… You seem pretty comfortable with the team when we’re on a case.” Spencer said, looking at your hands. His thoughts wandered to how nice they would feel laced in his hands. He would love to hold your hand right about now.

“That’s different. I know how to do that. I know how to interact when I’m forced to in order to save someone’s life.” You grinned, thinking about the last case, when you were able to save a little girl from yet another monster of a person.

“It’s different to find common ground when you’re alone with somebody you don’t know.” Spencer said slowly.

The muffled laughter of the party inside through the back door made you smile. They were having such a good time while you were… Doing nothing next to Spencer? Not that you minded. It was easier to be around one person than it was to be around a group of people all looking at you for your next answer.

“I think I might like it here. It’s better than my old job.” You said, gazing off into the distance.

Spencer noticed that you slouched a little bit after saying that.

“What do you like about it?” Spencer asked, genuinely curious.

It had been a long time since you liked your job. In the beginning, you liked your old job but your boss turned mean, vindictive even, when you started to receive praise from higher ups. In fact, your skills at your old job got you here.

“It’s more than just working with a group of people. I’ve been close to some of the most brilliant minds in the world but none of them have ever felt like this. Nowhere before have I ever felt like I’m in a group of people that like each other enough to hang out when they’re not working. It’s like…” You stopped, trying to find the word.

“A family?” Spencer said, finishing your sentence.

“Yeah… And right now, I feel like the cousin twice removed that doesn’t really know anyone at the family reunion, even if everyone knows me.”

There was another pause as Spencer thought about that connection. He tried to think of something smart to say that would be interesting when his brain acted faster than he could sort out.

“In almost every state, it’s legal to date your second cousin once removed. On estimation, 0.2% of Americans alone are married to their second cousin. For clarification, a second cousin is someone you share a great grandparent with. It’s less about who married who but your relation to them. The current number is unknown as the last time the 0.2% was calculated was between…” Spencer stopped once he saw your face change.

“What?” You asked him.

“You’re smiling. And you haven’t stopped me.” Spencer said, eyebrows furrowing.

“I like listening to you talk about the probability that I’m going to marry my second cousin from this unrelated, metaphorical family.” You smiled wider as his mind started working again.

“Am I the second cousin in this scenario?” Spencer asked, blushing at the thought. He wasn’t going to lie and say he hadn’t caught feelings for you when he started to find out more about how your mind worked.

“Maybe. Only if the plan is to get married.” You said. “But you have to take me on a date first.”

“Okay.” Spencer said, grabbing his crutches.

“Okay, what?” You asked. You were so confused.

“You said I have to take you on a date.” Spencer repositioned himself to stand up with the help of the crutches.

“Are you serious?” You asked, looking up at him.

“Do you want to go on a date?” Spencer asked in a matter-of-fact way.

“Well only if you want to.” You said, sheepishly.

“We should pick a date...Saturday?” Spencer asked.

“Saturday.” You confirmed with a smile. Spencer began crutching inside before turning and looking at you.

“Are you coming, y/n? The family is calling.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine

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