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maureenforever · 1 year

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Ringo Starr and Maureen’s Glamorous Honeymoon in Hove in 1965

Rob BakerJuly 7, 2019

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"How does it feel to be married to a very famous man?" MAUREEN: "Very nice."

Honeymoon Photo Call – Ringo Starr and Maureen Cox – Hove, Sussex

Ringo Starr and Maureen Cox were married on February 11th 1965 at Caxton Hall in Westminster. They had known each other since the Beatles’ Cavern days where at the age of fifteen, Maureen, known to her friends as “Mo”, had become a regular at the club. She once recalled:

On the marriage certificate Starr wrote that his profession was “musician”, while Maureen, who was now eighteen, left her profession blank. She had given up her job as a trainee manicurist/hairdresser at Ashley du Pre in Liverpool after continued threats from jealous Beatles’ fans.

Maureen had found herself pregnant at the end of January 1965 and within a few days Ringo proposed to her while they were at the Ad Lib club a few days later. Because of the pregnancy Brian Epstein arranged a quick wedding and hoped that it could remain a private affair. John Lennon told Maureen that there should be no tears or she “wouldn’t be one of the gang.” Ringo was due in the recording studio at Abbey Road on the 15th February before he then had to fly out to the Bahamas for the filming of Help! a week later, so a quick three-day honeymoon was organised by Epstein at the house of a friend of his in the glamorous location of Hove. The friend – the showbiz lawyer David Jacobs – like Epstein, was Jewish and gay although more flamboyantly so – he often attracted the ire of judges by openly wearing powder and makeup in court.

2 Prince’s Square Hove

Other than Epstein and the Beatles, Jacobs’s clients included Marlene Dietrich, Diana Dors (both on the cover of the Sgt Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band LP incidentally), Judy Garland, Zsa Zsa Gabor, the Rolling Stones and even Liberace. It was David Jacobs who planned the American pianist’s libel case with the Daily Mirror’s columnist Cassandra in 1959. The jury were persuaded that Liberace was of unimpeachable moral character and not at all, “a deadly, winking, sniggering, snuggling, chromium-plated, scent-impregnated, luminous, quivering, giggling, fruit-flavoured, mincing, ice-covered heap of mother love”. Liberace was able to walk out of the court £26,000 richer and famously said that he was “crying all the way to the bank”.

Time to go, love

News that Ringo and Maureen had married soon leaked to the press and the next day the couple awoke to find film crews, photographers and the press camped outside Jacobs’s house at 2 Prince’s Square a stone’s throw from the sea in Hove. Although disappointed with the lack of even a short period of privacy, Ringo and Maureen agreed to a lunchtime interview in the back garden of where they were staying:

Q: “How long have you known each other?”

RINGO: “About two and a half years now.”

Q: “So this means, Maureen, that you knew Ringo before he was right at the top of the tree.”

MAUREEN: “Yes.”

Q: “How does it feel to be married to a very famous man?” MAUREEN: “Very nice.”

Q: “Well, I’m sure you wanted a rather different honeymoon from this. What do you think about all this?”

RINGO: “Well, you know– We took a chance. We tried to keep it quiet and we tried to arrive here quiet, but we must’ve been spotted and that’s the end of it, you know. So from now on, it’s not really a honeymoon, it’s just– we’re just stayin’ here.”

Q: “How do you think the other Beatles reacted?”

RINGO: “Well, John and George were great, you know. They were happy and congratulated us and everything. And they, in fact, went to the wedding.” Q: “When are the rest of you going to get married?”

RINGO: “When are the rest of them? I don’t know. I’ve no idea. As I said before, I don’t think ‘cuz I’m married, next week they’ll all pop up and say, ‘We’re gettin’ married ‘cuz Ringo is,’ you know.”

Q: “What sort of an effect, really, do you think the marriage is going to have on the Beatles’ future?”

RINGO: “On the Beatles as a whole, I don’t think any great effect– as much as that everyone will sort of say, ‘Well, we can’t sorta like them anymore ‘cuz Ringo’s married,’ you know. I don’t think I’ve got that image. I don’t think it’ll bother them too much. It may help, in fact, you know. We don’t know yet. It’s too early to say.”

Q: “Have you decided where you’re going to live?”

RINGO: “Only in the flat I’ve already got in London, up to now. Then we have to move and get a house or something, but it’ll be a while yet.”

Q: “Maureen, what do you think of the flat and the furnishings? Are there any changes you’d like to make?” MAUREEN: “No, it’s great.” RINGO: (jokingly) “It’s a big flat, you know!” (laughs)

Q: “Ringo, where did you propose?”

RINGO: “In a club.”

Q: “Can you tell me which club?”

RINGO: “Yes, if you don’t mind a plug. The Ad Lib club.”

Q: “You mean, you made it up as you went along?”

RINGO: “Oh, ho!! Bad joke!! No, you know– I was sort of thinking about it, and I just sorta said, ‘Will you marry me?’ and she said, ‘Yes… Have another drink!’ (laughs) And we did, and that was it.”

Q: “Congratulations. Thank you both very much.”

RINGO: “Thank you. Alright? Goodbye! …hope not to see you out my window again!” After just three days in Hove, Ringo was driven to Abbey Road studios where the Beatles started to record songs for the new film Help! In six days they recorded five songs for the film, a b-side, two LP tracks and one song called ‘That Means a Lot’, rejected ultimately for Help! but became a minor hit for PJ Proby.

safari-reader://www.youtube.com/embed/lJMbEYuxeGw?feature=player_detailpage

In August 1968 Brian Epstein was found dead by his housekeeper after taking an overdose of Carbital, a popular sleeping pill of the time, at his London home in Belgravia. It was Jacobs who organised everything afterwards, the press, the reading of the will and had even identified the body for the police. Just over a year later David Jacobs also took his own life when he was found by his man-servant dangling from a length of satin from one of the beams of his garage in December 1968.

Recording a verdict of suicide while the balance of his mind was disturbed, the East Sussex Coroner, Dr Angus Sommerville said that there was no doubt that Mr Jacobs had financial problems. “But,” he added, “it is not my business to inquire further into these.” Dr Keith Elliott, pathologist, said that Mr Jacobs had stood on the stool, put his head in a loop of cord and then kicked the stool away. “But,” he continued, “it appeared that the attempted to loosen the loop but could not.”

Brian Epstein in 1966

It wasn’t particularly surprising that David Jacobs ended up in financial difficulty. This was the man that put together one of the worst deals in the history of popular music when, albeit with the permission of Epstein, he signed away the rights to all the Beatles merchandise for a pathetic 10% to a friend from the London party circuit named Nicky Byrne. It is said, however, that there may have been a more sinister reason for the death of Epstein’s friend and lawyer than debt. Shortly before he died, Jacobs had been visited by a cohort of Ronnie Kray. The Krays, at the time, were due to stand trial at the Old Bailey for the murders of George Cornell and Jack “the hat” McVitie and Jacobs was asked if he could legally represent the twins in court. Jacobs refused and immediately asked for police protection. It was refused…

#maureen starkey #ringo starr #the beatles

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anniekong · 1 year

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1) I saw the job posting and expressed my interest in applying to S.

2) S knows the hiring manager and makes the introductions via email. ( I've also reached out to others who may know him to gain insights)

3) Admin schedules the introductory meeting on the same day-it was a snow day too

4) I went to this initial introductory meeting a little underprepared to meet M

5) I went home and worked late that night. E saw that I was online and we had a quick catch up call. I told him about my day and my job search process and it turns out that M was his mentor during his time in the US. E offers to put in a good word for me.

6) I wrote a thank you note to M and inquired about the predecessor to learn more about the role.

7) It was SA and I write him a cold email and set up an initial call. I met with him to gain further insights on the role such as the day to day.

8) S puts in a good word for me explaining my performance rating in 2022 but M expresses his concerns due to lack of marketing experience and leadership skills.

9) I applied for the job and resumed working.

10) I went to Zurich to give a workshop and I saw the interview meeting pop up on my calendar for the following week. It’s a panel interview of three people in total. I shared the news with J who was co-hosting the workshop with me. She was extremely happy for me and offered to help shape my stories during my time in commercial operations. "All you have to be is yourself," she said. I wish it was that easy. We are both big believers that things happen for a reason so a rejection would not be the end of the world.

11) Exhausted after a long week, I crafted and practiced my stories on the plane ride back and continued to practice until the night before. ( Everything from my tone, hand gestures, eye contact, eyebrow twitch etc).

12) It was D-day and my first hybrid interview. I have not had an in- person interview since 2019. I had to balance looking at the screen and addressing the folks in the room. It started out well just as I've practiced. However, I was stump on questions like why should we pick you over someone else, what does success look like for you in this role, most people start from sales and work their way up to global/corporate- why are you going in the other direction, what do you hope to deliver in 18 months. I must’ve looked like a deer in headlights. They were asking me what my favorite color was and I answered 28. The interview took an hour vs the initial 45 mins meeting, which further portrayed how inefficient I was in conveying what they wanted to hear. They were challenging me and I wasn’t given them the right answers. I might have redeemed myself with the questions I’ve asked towards the end but felt defeated completely.

13) I was pretty sure I didn’t get the job at this time and shared my experiences with my work besties starting with I and sharing the questions that had stumped me and my tired and jet lag brain. “The why would they choose you is a personal branding question! You are supposed to showcase your strengths”, she said. Well it makes sense now, since you put it like that wishing that I had known that 20 minutes earlier. I took it as a learning opportunity.

14) The day after, S asked how the interview went. The corporate response for I bombed it is "This helped me understand the level of detail that is necessary to really standout in those interviews."

15) I caught up with N at the cafe and M sees me and waves at me walking in one direction. S comes walking from the opposite direction and they meet in the middle. S had asked how the interview went then and there…not awkward at all. (I found out about this later but somehow I had a feeling they were talking about me and shared my uneasiness feelings with N since it was too soon!)

16) S shared that he’s still interviewing and there’s a McKinsey consultant that they are also considering. Well that's nice… I thought. He/she will definitely be a thousand times more polish than me. S also recommended that I ask L to reach out to M to endorse me on my performance.

17) I’ve never done this before and had to double check with someone who has worked with HR to see if this is normal (I realized how risk adverse I am during this process). She convinced me that it's not only normal, but a necessity when applying internally. I wrote an email to L, having saw her and caught up with her in the office the day before.

18) L replied and to my surprise, said she was proud that I was asking for endorsement when most people shy away from it. She mentioned that she had already put in a good word for me.

19) I started applying for other jobs because I was coming to terms with not getting the job.

20) S follows up with M the following week. I’m embarrassed at this point because he was pushing for an answer and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t have an answer because I got rejected.

21) 8 days from the interview date, I’m sitting at lunch with a neighboring finance team and shared my interview experience during this busy time at work. When I got to my desk, M pings me and asked if I have time to chat. I replied asap and he called me right away.

22) “I got some feedback for you,” he said. “I welcome any feedback you have,” I replied, having already made peace with myself that I will have to resume the job hunt. “ You got the role,” he said….and I haven’t stopped smiling since that moment.

I wanted to highlight the amount of effort it took to apply for one role. I could have easily gotten rejected and this process would have to occur again before I land on my next role.

I understand the power of networking, sponsorship and personal branding.

Although the future is exciting, I’m even more touched by the amount of people who are willing to help me, expecting nothing in return throughout this process- most notably, all of my sponsors ( S, L, A & E), E who is an informal mentor to me, D who consistently sent me job postings, AD who offered to help with interviewing, I connecting me to everyone she knows on the Global Oncology team. The countless number of coffee chats with the oncology marketing team who took time out of their day to educate me with nothing to gain.

I pinged I when I received the good news and she was so happy and excited for me. "You did all the magic," she said. "Not at all, it felt like a teamwork." It sure wasn't because of my stellar interviewing skills.

I’m so thankful for them and will continue to pay it forward.

As J and I agreed on, it's this cycle of good karma and positivity that will continue to expand.

“Luck is what happens when preparation meets opportunity”

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phantomrose96 · 3 years

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Old Wounds

Danny’s secret is not a secret anymore.

The lines between Fenton and Phantom have long since blurred. And it’s a common occurrence for news reporters to trip over their tongue when flagging him down, mid-transformation, for a post-fight interview. “Phanton.” “Fentom.” So often that, to most now, he is just Danny.

When Danny wants upgrades to his gear, he comes to his mother. When Danny learns a quirky new element of Ghost Zone lore, he brings it to his father. When the Amity Park Ghost Alarm is raised, he’s first on the scene with the Fenton RV right on his non-corporeal heels.

When he’s injured, Danny comes only to his friends and sister.

Jazz notices the pattern. How it is only her, or only Sam, or only Tucker who receives the late-night knock at the window glass, with her brother on the other side, corny sheepish smile on display and arm or leg or shoulder held up in explanation.

Jazz notices how hushed Danny remains, day or night, when he comes to her for first aid. How he speaks in that same hesitant muted tone as he did when all of this was still a secret. How he quiets himself in the way injured prey animals do.

Jazz doesn’t feel it’s her place to ask. Not yet, at least. Eventually. But not yet.

The window is open. Honeysuckle-sweet gusts of late-spring air swirl through Jazz’s room and tease away the sheen of sweat that has collected on her brow. She cannot wipe it away herself, not with both hands meticulously occupied in tweezering out the singed fabric from her brother’s arm.

Danny winces, and hisses, and Jazz frees another thread from its embedded hold in Danny’s burn wound.

“It’s kind of like… summer vacation when we were kids and we’d get splinters visiting Aunt Alicia’s lake house,” Jazz remarks with another careful tug. “…If we can call it a lake house.”

“Lake shed,” Danny replies, grinning through the sweat shining on his pale face. “And I think every part of that dock was an OSHA violation.” He laughs through another wince.

“Dad was the king of tweezers. I think he got out every splinter that dock ever gave me.” Jazz pauses. “I wonder why that was. Think it’s the needlepoint?”

“It’s definitely the needlepoint,” Danny agrees.

Jazz hesitates on the question lingering behind her tongue. Just a little too long. Just a little too obviously.

“What?” Danny asks.

Jazz’s hand falters. She puts the tweezers down. “Danny, I will always always be happy to help you like this. Same goes for Sam, same goes for Tucker, I know. I’m positive. But I wonder why… not Mom or Dad?” Jazz eyes the tweezers, glinting in the moonlight. “I’m just… I’m thinking how much cleaner this might be if you got Dad to do it. And Mom’s got like, wilderness survival level first aid expertise. I can’t help thinking I’m hurting you more by it being… me, you know?”

Danny looks at her, and looks past her a moment. His grin slips a fraction into discomfort as his eyes leave hers. “Maybe I just like the excuse to invade your room.”

“Danny…” Jazz waits until he looks at her again. “Are you afraid they’ll make you stop if they realize you’re getting injured?”

Danny lets out a puff of air from behind his lips. “No, never. I mean, maybe if I got really really injured they’d say something. But just getting a little roughed up? I think it’s about on par with a kid coming home from football practice with a few scrapes, at least, in their eyes. They get more banged up than me these days. I’m not worried.”

Jazz reaches for the bottle of disinfectant. She unscrews the cap to a biting alcohol smell. “…So will you tell me why?”

“Why what?”

“Why you won’t ever go to them with injuries? Ever?”

Cotton swab, pure silver under the moonlight. Jazz douses it gently, a muted glug-glug from the bottle.

“…I’m that obvious about it, huh?”

“You’re obvious about most things. This’ll be cold.” Jazz applies the swab to the open wound, and Danny hisses in turn.

“Yeah. Cold. And stingy. Cold and stingy.” After a few seconds, the tension eases out of Danny’s body. He droops a little, shoulders slumped, and Jazz pulls the cotton swab away.

“Are you ashamed of your injuries?”

“No.”

“Are you worried Mom and Dad’ll make them worse?”

“Nah. You said it yourself, those two are weird, unconventional medical experts.”

“Then why not?”

A beat of silence follows. A moment of trepidation. Awash in moonlight, Danny looks up at her, and the glow in his green eyes has a life of its own. “I don’t want them to see the injuries that have already healed.”

“Why would that be a problem?” Jazz looks again. Danny’s suit covers most everything, save now for the one sleeve that’s been rolled back. She sees what she already knew was there – what isn’t obvious to the eye not searching – threads of white ridges, puckers of skin, a faded rashy texture of what had once been an ectoblast burn. Old injuries. Long healed. Faded and fading further. “Those are all healed now. Just some scars, right…?”

Danny hesitates.

“I don’t want them to figure out how many of those scars they caused.”

A gust of wind steals the antiseptic smell from the room. Jazz sits with the silence. She thinks, and she processes.

“Oh…”

Danny straightens. “They kind of… live in this world where hunting ghosts is all fun and games, you know? Like it’s a sport, like they can just get into go-mode and jump into the fun. I don’t think they’ve figured out yet that they can—could—did …cause damage.”

Danny adjusts himself on Jazz’s bed, one leg pulled up, body angled to face her directly. He doesn’t let his eye contact wander now. “They both apologized. Definitely. Like that definitely happened, back at the start of this. But it was kind of like ‘We must’ve given you so much trouble Danny! How’d you come home every day and not bite our heads off over that?’ Like. Again. Like it’s a game. Like they’d been knocking my chess pieces over for a year and not—”

Danny falters. He raises his uninjured arm and tucks the hair away from his face. “And I don’t… want it to click for them. What I have right now with Mom and Dad is so nice… It’s so much better than I even imagined. I want it to stay like this. Forever, if possible.”

“Danny…”

“And even that actually—maybe I’m actually wrong about that. Completely wrong. About their reaction, I mean. It’s possible maybe they’d see everything and just go,” Danny deepens his voice, “‘Wow! We did a number on you, huh? Man Danny I don’t know how you didn’t just smack us over the breakfast table every morning.’ you know? Like that. Like this was all just always a game. And they—and I-- …I like how relaxed ghost hunting is with them. I actually like that it feels like a game. I don’t ever want to go back to feeling how scared and afraid and unsafe and hurt I was that first year. ...But I’m afraid of how it would feel to know that maybe they’d see that, look at it all, everything they did and the scars like the actual proof and it—if it wouldn't ever be real to them. If they'd never get that it was like that. If they still wouldn’t realize—you know? That they—if they—I don’t uh…” Danny drops his eyes, and he shrinks in on himself. “I don’t know how to explain it…”

“No I—Danny I know what you’re saying. Don’t worry. Danny, I—”

“Either answer. Any answer. I don’t want to know… I don’t actually want to know.” Danny angles himself away again, feet dropped over the side of Jazz’s bed, staring down at the hands in his lap. “If it would horrify them, then I’d be ruining all the good things I have with them right now. And if it wouldn’t horrify them—” Danny falls quiet. The breeze has stilled. The room is colder now. “…then I think I just don’t ever want to know.”

Jazz nods, and nods harder.

“I get it. I get it. That’s a good enough answer for me, Danny, I promise. I’m your first aid person, okay? I won’t ask again. Thanks for… thanks for telling me, Danny.”

"Can always trust you to bring up the difficult conversations huh? Of course that's always been your thing. Talking to you is--well I'd say it's like pulling teeth, but maybe it's more like pulling ecto-demolished hazmat suit fabric out of a burn wound."

Danny offers a sheepish grin - it's an olive branch, a request to lighten the mood. Jazz meets it with her own small grin that does not touch her eyes.

"Yeah yeah, I'm your older sister. It's my job to be a pain. Now sit still, I need to be more of a pain if we're gonna de-hazmat suit your injury."

She picks the tweezers back up. The silence rings with an echo in her head now. Jazz focuses her attention back on her task, and she finds something she was wrong about before:

There is nothing faded about the scars that web up and down her little brother’s arm. They are stark streaks of lightning, glowing silver under the moonlight. And Jazz wonders how many others—how many that flaked away and melded back with healthy skin—how many of those might still be living, lingering, a permanent part of her little brother, buried well beneath the surface…

#danny phantom #dp #dp fanfiction #long post #wanted to write A Thing so here is A Thing!

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starbuckie · 2 years

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𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞

pairing: college!chris beck x reader

words: 3.1k words

warnings: literally a pinch of angst and the rest is all goody holiday fluff. also i need a hug from chris beck. right now.

summary: for the first time in twenty years yn is not spending christmas with her best friend and boyfriend. what’s a girl to do without him?

a/n: i miss him so much. also i realize i’ve been writing so much college!chris stuff, i promise i’ll be getting into older, mid-thirties chris very very soon because i miss old man dick xoxo. jk, but i seriously have somne great ideas for sexy space daddy. anyways, i hope you all are having a wonderful lead up to the holidays, and stay slutty and sexy <3 (also please send me winter concepts, i need more)

main masterlist || sebastian stan characters masterlist

Bzz.

Y/N’s head shot up from her desk, feet failing to move her across the room gracefully as she reached for her phone from where she forced it down on her bed. Had it been any closer she would’ve texted Chris much earlier and then neither of them would get anything done. She’d been studying for her biology exam for, what, two hours now? The time on her phone showed that it was eleven at night, but what perplexed her more was the text she had from her boyfriend back in Connecticut. It must’ve been at least two in the morning and Y/N knew better than anyone else that if he did not get the right amount of sleep he would be a complete grouch for the entire day.

can i pretty please call u?

Aaaaaand distraction began. Her heartbeat quickened just the littlest bit, giddy at the thought of seeing Chris, even if it was just for a few minutes. She quickly clicked his contact and listened to the ringing phone with a smile.

“Hey, honey.”

Nothing was more soothing than Chris’ sleepy voice. It was deep and guttural and quiet and she could remember nights with his hands tracing her skin, reading his textbook aloud to her in the same way. It was no different as his pretty blue eyes popped onto the screen, tucked up to right under his chin. His nose and cheeks were flushed and rosy, and given the East Coast winter it made sense. She could imagine how he looked under the covers, wrapped up in his signature NASA sweatshirt and his fuzzy socks with little stars that she’d gotten him for his birthday the year before.

She grinned when he saw her, snaking a hand out of the blanket to wave cutely. Propping her phone against the pillow, she began to talk. “Hi, babylove. Why are you up so late? Your first class is at nine,” she mentioned with a small smile.

He sighed with a tiny frown, which really just tied off the whole sleepy teddy bear look he was rocking. “Well I was finishing up a lab report when my parents called me with some not so great news.”

“Oh,” her brows furrowed and she readjusted herself. She knew his mother hadn't been holding up the greatest with the cold Amy had brought in from the hoards in highschool a few weeks back, and it seemed as if she still wasn’t better. Y/N loved Mrs. Beck like she loved her own mother and the news fractured her heart just a bit more in preparation for the news Chris was about to share. “Is it about your mom?”

“No, thank god, my mom’s alright, just a little sniffly,” he breathed out quickly and his girlfriend sighed in relief. “It’s just that with my dad’s new interview and my mom being sick, we’re not going to be able to fly down for Christmas. I know we had the plan to, every year we’d switch, but this year just isn’t working out for my parents.”

“Oh.” That one word wasn’t enough to describe the heavy, sinking pit in her chest but Y/N prayed and hoped that Chris couldn’t feel the disappointment and sadness radiating off her through the phone. When she had made the choice to attend UCLA, she knew what she was getting into. Long distance relationship, long distance calls, no hugs or kisses, and the underlying feeling of sickness when she even so much as thought about him in someone else’s arms. It just happened that her parents decided that a move to California was in order as well, so there wasn’t any chance of even going back to Hartford to visit them. That’s what one gets when they decide to study marine biology in Los Angeles. “That’s okay, Chris, we’ll call each other on Christmas, right? And we still have the lake trip in April, so just four more months to go.”

The couple laughed somewhat fakely, both of them knowing that this would be quite a hit to their relationship. Maybe it was Y/N’s fear of growing overly clingy to her boyfriend and chasing him into the arms of another girl at Yale, or maybe it was her sadness over the fact that they wouldn’t be together for Christmas for the first time in twenty years. They were best friends before they were lovers, and that had sped up their relationship quite a bit, but was it too fast? Senior year of high school had been a blast, a whole year full of college applications and hurried kisses and fumbled first times in bedrooms, but now that they were apart she wasn’t sure where they stood.

“Y/N, starshine, are you frozen?” She looked up from the oh-so interesting sheets of her bed back to her phone, where a pair of pretty blue eyes were close up to the camera, confusedly staring through the screen. “I can’t tell if you’re frozen or if I am, honey, I think my RA may have screwed with our wifi again.”

“Don’t worry, Chris, I can see you.” Y/N chuckled. Leave it to him to break her out of a sour mood. Yet as cute as he was, she still felt a prickle of tired sadness poke into her heart. They both let out forced smiles, finding nothing to do but stare at each other through their phones. God, when did it get to this? She couldn’t tell how long they’d been so awkward around each other or if it was because of their given circumstances.

Chris checked the time and let out a yawn, his eyes filling with exhausted tears.

“I think I have to duck out soon, honey, it’s getting pretty late.” Y/N nodded a bit too quickly to his every word, placing her hand on the side of the phone and imagined that she could feel the smooth-shaven skin of Chris’ cheek under palm rather than the plastic phone case. “‘Course, babylove, you need your rest. Lord knows how much of a Grinch you are if you don’t get all eight hours of sleep.”

He smiled, his thumb hovering over the red button. “Alright, starshine, I’m gonna head off now. I love you.”

“Love you…” the call ended, only her melancholy expression staring back at her, reflecting all of the guilt and weight settled on her chest reflecting on a mirrored phone screen, “too.”

Eyes watering with burnout, Y/N held back a good, long cry and went to her small dorm room counter to make herself some chamomile tea, an empty dorm and hours of squinting at a textbook ahead of her.

December 14. Eleven days until Christmas, one hundred and sixteen until she had Chris in her arms again.

“Yes, mom, I swear I put the ham in for two hours, it’s gonna be fine.” Y/N bustled around the kitchen in a hurry, sweatshirt covered in soup from an accident on the stove and hands aching and cut from cutting carrots a bit too fast. She could feel her shirt sticking to her back from the sheer amount of sweat she was producing. She felt disgusted with herself.

Los Angeles was much warmer compared to the East Coast, year round, and of course Christmas Eve was no exception. Even after two years of college in the West, Y/N and her family still were not accepting nor had adapted to the heat change. Along with the heart of every kitchen appliance at work in the room, she was sweltering and wanted nothing more than to feel the freezing, harsh snow of Connecticut winters again. Her dad stirred together a dressing for the salad as her mom set the table with eight placemats, and she, ever the lovely daughter, had put to task with everything else. “Mom, I still don’t get why we need eight settings if it’s just the three of us this year.”

Her mom hesitated before placing down the fork in her hand, her eyes meeting her dad’s for the briefest of seconds before looking away once more. “It just looks nicer, hun, we have eight chairs at the table so it’d just look… awkward if we only had three place settings.”

The older woman came into the kitchen and cradled Y/N’s face, wiping flour from her eyebrow. “Dear Lord, you look a mess right now, Y/N.” The younger girl mumbled a sarcastic comment under her breath and her mother rolled her eyes. “Go take a shower and get dressed, your father and I will take care of the rest of dinner.”

Y/N’s eyebrows raised in surprise. Never had she or Chris been allowed to step a foot outside the kitchen until Christmas Eve dinner was done but she supposed her parents were taking pity on her for the absence of her aspiring doctor boyfriend. With a sigh she nodded, placed a gentle kiss on her mom’s cheek, and ran up the stairs to take a well deserved shower.

The water was painfully hot when it hit her but she didn’t care anymore. Even with the outbreak of heat against her skin, she found that it soothed her about Christmas better than either of her parents’ words did. Christmas tree farm, cider-making, gift wrapping- all her thoughts led back to Christopher Beck and her heart squeezed brokenly with each task she accomplished lonely.

Once she was done berating herself in the shower, she stepped out, accepting the cool air that greeted her. Granted it wasn’t really cool, but it seemed that way after her steam-filled bath. With a clean body and nice-smelling hair for a change, she walked back into her room to choose an outfit. She’d normally dress nicely, a pretty dress or skirt that complimented her well, but she felt no effort being put towards the holiday this year.

Instead she opted for jeans and her favorite cream sweater, nice enough for Christmas but not breaking her barrier of crippling sadness and reality. The wool material felt like another warm hug enveloping her arms, replacing the arms of the boy she loved across the county. God, he was all she could think about even miles away. How she had made it through finals was beyond her own knowledge.

Ella Fitzgerald started playing from the record player from the living room downstairs, and Y/N let herself close her eyes and remember Chris’ hands on her waist the year before as they danced to the same vinyl. She hummed softly bringing her own arms to wrap around herself, slowly swaying around her room to the gentle beat as she looked around her bedroom.

Since the family had moved to California, she hadn’t actually spent much time in her new room, but what she had achieved was some semblance of her old childhood room in Connecticut, starting off with polaroids and glossy photos of the life lived back there as well. But the one that was most appealing to her was the one on the day of her and Chris’ highschool graduation, with his arm slung around her waist so boyishly and his face nuzzled in her hair. He looked so sweet with his round glasses perched on his nose and his little khaki get-up, his frame towering over hers and feeling protective.

And the dress she wore, she still had it hung up in her closet. It was a simple white dress. It had fit her like a glove then, hugging her body in all the most appealing places, a satin baby-blue bow running across her waist. In the framed photo she saw her younger self accompany her outfit with a dainty silver necklace with her birthstone as a pendant, a birthday gift from Chris in middle school that still laid snug against her skin under the sweater, sat just in the center of her collarbones to bring in the sweetheart look she was pulling off. She also remembered how much her loverboy had liked that dress, taking every chance to expel his love for it and for her for that whole, perfect day.

Though it had only been a few years since their highschool graduation, she could already feel the memories of those years slipping through her fingers. Time truly slowed when Chris wasn’t around, but all of a sudden it seemed to pass all too quickly as she watched their life in pictures.

“That was the day our parents finally let us go off on the New York trip by ourselves right, right?” Y/N jumped nearly ten feet in the air, catching her breath just before sharply turning to meet the intruder at her front door.

But it wasn’t an intruder. No, instead she was met with a six foot tall man with fluffy chestnut hair and gorgeous baby blues. He wore a pristine white dress shirt tucked into black pants, a huge smile etched onto his face, and held up two wrapped rectangles that she knew were more astronomy books for her to read. And she knew it all so well because it was Chris. Her Chris. And he was finally home for the holidays.

“You look like an angel, honey.” The woman couldn’t respond, too caught up in the wonder of him being in her room, standing and acting like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Chris’ smile grew wider at her lack of response, knowing he’d tease her for her slack jaw and wide, adoring eyes later, and stuck out his arms, invitingly warm, just for her. “Well, starshine, aren’t you gonna say anything?”

He’d soon take back his words, as Y/N chose to speak with actions rather than his loved words. Her heart filled with overwhelming joy and her held back tears finally spilled over, racing down her face in celebration of a return. Running across the floors at full speed, she hit Chris like a freight train, plowing straight into him and burying her face into his chest. “You’re here.” Her voice came out muffled through the fabric of his shirt, “You came back to me.”

He pulled her back from his chest, not wasting a second in feeling her soft lips on his chapped ones. He savored the taste of her, like cinnamon and cloves from the gingerbread she had probably snuck while cooking downstairs, and he groaned when she returned the kiss with as much fervor. Her tongue slipped past his lips as her arms drew his neck into her. Yet Y/N couldn’t help the smile that fought against her mouth, so she pressed it against his equally wide one. And, oh god, how she had missed those lips. Pillowy and soft with just the right amount of pressure, calloused hands cradling her face in the gentlest of ways.

Even after they had both gasped for air, he continued to steal quick kisses from her as he spoke. “Had to,” kiss, “come back,” kiss, “to you, honey.” Kiss. “Did you think I was just gonna leave you all alone on Christmas? Haven’t spent this day apart in-”

“Twenty years,” Her final peck broke apart their embrace, her eyes now focused on the rough stubble that covered his chin. “This is new.”

Her hands scraped over the once-smooth skin, and she didn't deny the feel of it. It was nice. His eyes turned almost sinister then, darkening with every word he spoke. “Well, I was thinking about how much you used to like it and thought it would be a nice surprise.”

His insinuating eyes were no secret to his girlfriend and she smacked his chest with a gentle laugh before pulling him down to her, nose to nose. “Oh, trust me, hun, it’s more than welcome.”

“Ew!” Amy Beck stood in the doorway, dressed in a red sweater and a white jean skirt, her childish, blue eyes filled with disgust. At the gleaming age of seventeen, she held her phone in hand and a mug of cocoa in the other, pointing it at Chris in disgusted shock. “I do not need to hear that the reason you decided to grow your gross hobo beard out is because you were planning on being a pervert. Mom raised you better than that, big brother.” She glared at her sibling with knives as slits in her eyes, before turning to one of the women she had admired most growing up with a just as adoring smile. “It’s great to see you, Y/N, come down to eat whenever you’re ready.”

The seventeen-year old girl murmured continuously as she left Y/N’s room, her stomping footsteps shaking the house. Chris and Y/N stood in the room, completely still and caught up in embarrassment before she started laughing, trying to stifle the sounds of her joy against her boyfriend’s shoulder. Her laughter egged on his own and though his face was flushed completely red, he managed to fumble out an apology to his girlfriend.

“I think you just scarred poor Ames for life, she’s never gonna look at you the same way,” the woman grinned.

“Nah,” he brushed it off, even with his fully blushing face, “she’s just surprised and in awe that I actually get some.”

He sighed with a fond smile, and pecked her on the lips one more time, just trying to hold on the feeling of her lips against his before he had to leave again, but he didn’t want to think about that. He had a full-on week with his love. He could work with a week.

Y/N’s genuine smile was never ending as she wrapped her arms around her idiot-but-also-genius-of-a-boyfriend’s waist. All of her stress, all of her worries and everything else within miles dissipated in that moment, because nothing else was more important than Chris being in her hold again. She didn’t even think about how he was here. Was his mom okay? Did his dad book the job? Did he plane over himself?

But it was not a time for questions. Just long-awaited love.

“It’s good to have you home, babylove.”

Home. Shouldn’t have come as a surprise, after all his heart would always follow hers even if there was an entire galaxy separating the two. It may have not been everlasting, this moment, but they’d be damned if they didn’t savor every second they had together.

“It’s good to be home for the holidays, starshine.”

#chris beck #sebastian stan #the martian #sebastian stan x reader smut #sebastian stan x reader #chris beck x reader #𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞

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swan-of-sunrise · 3 years

Text

The Right Choice (Tales From The SSR)

Summary: After squaring away his new position within the West Coast SSR, Jack finally asks (Y/N) out on a date.

Pairing: Jack Thompson X Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Here’s a look at what happened almost immediately after the end of Specs and the Flyboy, and there’s a lot of fluff here! Thank you for reading, I hope you all enjoy!

The Right Choice December 1947 West Coast Strategic Scientific Reserve, Los Angeles (Previous One-Shot)

“Just when I thought we’d finally gotten rid of you for good, you had to go and fall in love with my top codebreaker,” Daniel said with feigned exasperation, the corners of his mouth curling upwards in an amused grin as he hung his crutch up onto his hook and sat down behind his desk. “Just my luck, huh?”

“Mm-hmm.” Jack absentmindedly hummed at the chief’s words while he stared through the office window at (Y/N); the codebreaker was finishing up a report on her typewriter, her reading glasses perched on the end of her nose as she concentrated on her work. Her vivid red lipstick had long-since faded into a pretty shade of pink and while he admired the focused expression on her beautiful face, he felt himself begin to smile at the memory of their passion-filled kisses. He still couldn’t quite wrap his head around the fact that his massive leap of faith had actually paid off and that (Y/N) loved him just as much as he loved her; I’ve gotta be the luckiest son of a bitch on the face of the planet, he thought to himself, his heart leaping in his chest when the codebreaker’s eyes met his and returning her shy smile with one of his own.

“…Jack? Hello, Earth to Jack!” Jack quickly turned his attention to Peggy, who leaned against the edge of Daniel’s desk and let out a low whistle. “I think you’ve got a little bit of drool on your chin, Lieutenant…”

With his face beginning to warm in embarrassment, Jack shot back, “Oh, you’re one to talk, Carter, you know how many months I had to put up with you makin’ eyes at Danny Boy here back in New York?” Peggy scoffed while Daniel’s ears turned pink, and Jack flashed them both a triumphant smirk before leaning back in his chair. “So, how’s this job interview gonna work? Did you two want my resumé or my list of references first?”

Daniel chuckled and shook his head. “That’s really not necessary, Thompson, you’ve got a job at this branch as long as I’m running things; we just wanted to hear the whole story about how you turned down the CIA position.”

“Yes, from what we’ve heard Senator Cooper was quite insistent that you take up the position,” Peggy added, her nose wrinkling as she mentioned the senator’s name. “I can’t say that I’m very fond of the man, especially after hearing about what he said to (Y/N) during his visit.”

Jack nodded in agreement. “You and me both, Peg, he’s a real horse’s ass. There’s not really much to hear, though-”

“C’mon, Thompson, it’s the least you can do! You know how hard it was keeping all this a secret from (Y/N)? A very sad, very lonely (Y/N)? Rose and Zhang nearly spilled the beans at least three times this week, and even I almost blabbed earlier at the hospital.” Daniel pointed out as Peggy nodded in agreement, and Jack let out a defeated sigh.

“Well, by the time my first plane landed in Colorado I knew that I wanted to come right back here but I figured that there were things I needed to settle before I could; I had to thoroughly vet my replacement – and before either of you wise-asses ask, no, Chief Harding’s not a Russian spy – and I had to get out of my apartment’s lease and arrange to have my things shipped out here. After I did all that I paid Senator Cooper a visit at his office downtown, returned his letter of recommendation and told him I wasn’t interested in being his political tool before storming out. Doesn’t make for a very interesting story, but that’s pretty much everything that happened.” He caught Daniel and Peggy exchanging a skeptical look and frowned in confusion. “What?”

“You remember Angie, my old roommate from New York? Well, she’s friends with one of the secretaries who works downtown at the senator’s office and the other day, she telephoned to tell me all about the verbal altercation her friend witnessed between Senator Cooper and a rather irate federal agent,” Peggy explained with a knowing gleam in her brown eyes, continuing on as Jack began self-consciously rubbing at the back of his neck. “According to the secretary, the agent read Cooper the riot act for not giving proper credit to the team responsible for closing a major case over at the West Coast SSR; he was adamant that the case never would’ve been closed if not for the entire group of people he worked alongside.”

“Nah, it must’ve been some other federal agent, Peggy, ‘cause Thompson here’s never been very big on sharing credit…or being nice…”

Rolling his eyes as Daniel and Peggy exchanged amused grins, Jack ignored the heat rising in his face and replied, “You two’re hilarious, you know, you could give Crosby and Hope a run for their money. I told Cooper off ‘cause it was the right thing to do…and I thought it might make up for taking all the credit when we closed that Leviathan case back in New York.” He shifted awkwardly in his seat and shrugged. “What can I say? I was a real ass back then, but I’ve decided to turn over a new leaf.” His eyes flicked back over to (Y/N) and he couldn’t help but smile, knowing that the codebreaker had been a large part of what inspired him to become a better man. “A fresh start here in L.A. with (Y/N)’s all I’m lookin’ for.”

Daniel’s smile was full of warmth when Jack turned back to him and he leaned across the desk to offer him his hand. “Well, Agent Thompson, let me be the first to welcome you aboard the West Coast SSR.” Jack grinned and shook the chief’s outstretched hand. “And since there’s no way I’m gonna get either of you to focus on any work now, you and your new partner can go ahead and take the rest of the afternoon off.”

“Yes, you two deserve a fun evening out!” The happy expression on Peggy’s face was soon replaced with mischief as she arched a playful brow. “But not too much fun; it’s a work night, after all.”

Jack rolled his eyes as he got to his feet and jokingly retorted, “Yes, Ma.”

Bidding Daniel and Peggy goodbye, Jack left the office and paused for a moment to nervously fix his tie before making his way over to (Y/N)’s desk; the codebreaker, who was still typing away on her typewriter, looked up from her work and smiled as he leaned against the edge of the desk. “I suppose I’ll have to get used to calling you ‘Agent’ now instead of ‘Chief,’ won’t I?”

“C’mon, Specs, we both know that you’re just gonna keep calling me ‘Flyboy’ instead.” He chuckled when she gave him a noncommittal shrug. “But yeah, you’re lookin’ at the West Coast SSR’s newest field agent. And my interview went so well that Chief Sousa even partnered me with the branch’s top codebreaker, can you believe that?”

(Y/N) smiled in amusement at his reference to their contentious first meeting but played along, arching a curious brow and replying, “I take it that you’re fond of codebreakers.”

“Absolutely crazy about ‘em.”

“Even the ones who wear reading glasses?”

“They look cute with specs.”

“And the ones who don’t make very good spies?”

“Hey, nobody’s perfect.”

“How about the ones who’re messy and can’t keep anything clean?”

Jack winced in mock distaste. “Now that’s a deal-breaker.”

Laughing, (Y/N) took off her reading glasses and shook her head in mild exasperation. “You’re a jerk, Jack Thompson.”

“And you’re beautiful, (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” His heart warmed at the flustered expression on her face as she began anxiously organizing her cluttered desk. “I’ve got even more good news; Sousa’s given the both of us the rest of the day off.”

She tucked several files into one of her desk drawers and closed it with a small chuckle. “Time off for good behavior?”

“Something like that.” Suddenly overcome with nervousness, Jack crossed his arms over his chest and cleared his throat before tentatively continuing. “Since we’ve both got a free afternoon, I was wondering if you’d…well, if you’d like to…to do something? With me?”

“I’d love to! What did you have in mind?”’

“Well, The Olympic’s still showing Miracle on 34th Street; I’ve heard it’s a pretty good flick and I know you’re a big Maureen O’Hara fan,” He reasoned, his calm exterior hiding the overwhelming sense of relief that washed over him when she accepted. “So, how ‘bout a movie and afterwards, milkshakes and fries at Lou’s?”

(Y/N)’s smile widened as she nodded, and the both of them went to fetch their hats and coats; while she was preoccupied with pinning her hat onto her hair, Jack quickly threw his fedora and coat on before grabbing her coat and holding it up for her to slip into, feeling very gentlemanly as she did so. The two of them left the bullpen and walked down the hallways of the West Coast SSR together, both of them occasionally glancing over at the other and smiling whenever they were caught staring. It wasn’t until Jack’s hand tentatively reached over and held hers that the unspoken tension finally came to a head; in an instant, he was being pulled into the nearest supply closet and his back hit the closed door as their lips met in a passionate kiss. Soft hands moved to cup his face and hold him against her while his own arms slipped into her unfastened coat and wrapped snugly around her waist, tugging her close as he lost himself in the sweetness of her lips.

The codebreaker was the first to break away, a little out of breath as she reached up and flicked on the light bulb hanging from the ceiling; her lips were swollen and her (Y/E/C) eyes were gleaming with happiness, a soft smile on her face as one of Jack’s hands reached up to caress her cheek. “Well, baby, that confirms it.”

“Confirms what, sweetheart?”

Jack grinned. “That I definitely made the right choice.” His fingers held her chin as he ducked back down, their lips meeting in a softer and more meaningful kiss; when they finally pulled themselves away from one another, they straightened their appearances before ducking back out of the supply closet and continuing down the halls, their smiles reaching their eyes as their joined hands swung between them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Lol I love seeing these two together, they deserve to be happy after everything they’ve gone through! Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new one-shot. Enjoy!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0iKzLZlEK1rTaSIiW5zRlk?si=97af3c9ce3ff4b65

“Tales From The SSR” Masterlist

“Specs and the Flyboy” Masterlist

Tagging: @nnon-it-up @fluffymadamina @remmyswritings @ourstarsailor @coffeeandcrimeshows @darkusangelus @josis-teacup @marvel-jackt-loki-buck @yeetyeetchickenmeat @sameoldbaby @theserenityspace @seeing-but-not-observing @supervoldejaygent @momc95 @brooke0297 @kinda-c0nfused @outoftheregular @mads-weasley @mostclevermiss

#tales from the ssr #jack thompson x reader #peggy carter x daniel sousa #agent carter #jack thompson #peggy carter #daniel sousa #rose roberts #marvel cinematic universe #strategic scientific reserve #specs and the flyboy

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wakaoujisenhime · 3 years

Text

I’m home - Bakugou x reader

Synopsis: Day after day you return home from work to either find your apartment empty or your husband asleep. Your last joint day off is also quite a while back, so you can’t help but feel rather lonely. And as if that wasn’t enough, you read an interview where your man had to give an insight on his married life with you and the questions he had to answer weren’t as pleasant as expected ...

tags/warnings: Bakugou x reader ✅ fluff ✅ (more or less) some domestic bliss ✅ minimal angst ✅

crossed off square: Take a day off

A/N: This has been in my WIPs for waaay too long, so I’m finally happy to have finished it. Hope you’ll enjoy it! (°◡°♡)

→ BINGO Event masterlist

━━━━☆ ━━━━☆ ━━━━☆

“Katsuki..“

“Hm?”

“When was the last time our day-offs were on the same day?”

——

You unlocked the front door to your apartment and stepped in as you silently announced that you were home, waiting for an answer which sadly never came.

So he’s still at work, huh?

With heavy steps, you slowly moved towards your living room, fully expecting to see your husband lying utterly exhausted on the black sofa. Much to your dismay, the only thing you saw was his Ground Zero themed jacket you had surprised him with on Valentine’s day last year.

A sigh escaped your mouth as you let your eyes scan the emptiness you called home, and that’s when you noticed something peculiar peeking out of one of your trash cans.

Upon taking a closer look at it, you realized that it was the latest issue of the monthly ‘My HERO!’ magazine, you always made sure to buy so that you could keep track of what your husband, as well as his friends, were up to.

“Katsuki, you dummy, I still haven’t read it yet, you know?” you mumbled to yourself while you took it out of the waste-paper basket and glanced at the cover picture.

A tall and bulky man whose red shirt emphasized his toned muscles perfectly took up almost the entire space of the booklet. His long black hair was tied up in a high ponytail, and if one looked closely, it was evident that there were still some red streaks left from back in his student days where he used to maintain a completely crimson hairstyle.

There were some of this issue’s top stories listed on the front page, so you skimmed through the short extracts.

Earphone Jack: A life between a hero and a rockstar

“With Sensei’s help”: The way someone from the general department became one of the TOP 20 heroes

ICY-HOT: How to not only follow into your father’s footsteps but completely obliterate them

“Let me show you how it’s done”: Red Riot’s guide to becoming the manliest hero of society and women’s hearts

Some of these headlines were quite funny to you, but that positive mood only lasted until you saw your husband’s name.

Exclusive interview: How is Katsuki Bakugou’s married life going?

Even though the title wasn’t anything exceptional, you couldn’t deny that it felt a bit suggestive and provocative at the same time. Curious as you were, you immediately looked up the corresponding pages and began reading through them.

The questions didn’t differ that much from other typical Q&A sessions with other prominent figures of society. Still, some tried to imply that Bakugou didn’t seem as happy as some other married pro heroes, and that implication was making you quite sad.

At some point, this little questionnaire got quite personal, and even if your husband was trying his best to maintain at least some kind of privacy, the reporter just couldn’t take a hint and continued prying. You could’ve only imagined just how mad he must’ve been at this point, but what interested you most were his answers.

Q: So, how are the two of you managing the housework?

A: It heavily depends on who comes home first, but both of us are trying to take as much load off as possible from the other.

Q: Do you suspect there might be a different reason for your wife’s late returns?

A: I don’t know what you’re trying to point at, but no, I don’t. She might not be a hero like me, but she’s still a very busy woman, and there are some days on which she even comes home when I’m already asleep.

Q: Aren’t there times when you wish to come home and see that everything’s been taken care of by her?

A: If I wanted a maid, then I would’ve simply hired one.

You angrily closed the magazine and stomped towards the sofa, where you plumped down and began pouting like a small child.

Now I know why he threw it away…

Those questions were nothing but pure incitement from the reporter who tried to subtly accuse you of being unfaithful and imply that whatever you were doing was insufficient for such a great hero like him.

Exhausted, you lay down and held onto your man’s jacket, the mix of his favorite cologne, and his scent instantly managed to calm you down a bit. You began imagining how he was kneeling in front of you, running his fingers along your hair while trying to calm your raging heart down by saying that these people knew nothing about his or your private life, and slowly but surely your eyelids grew heavy until they completely closed.

——

“I’m home.”

After quietly announcing his return, Bakugou disrobed his coat and kicked his shoes off his feet. Upon noticing your footwear, he immediately headed for the bedroom to see if you had already gone to sleep, but much to his surprise, you weren’t there. The thought that you were still at work crossed his mind as he scratched the back of his neck, a disappointed sigh escaping his mouth.

He dragged his feet across the floor and headed for the kitchen. When his red eyes fixated that magazine he had thrown away some hours ago, the unpleasant memories returned.

I thought I threw that garbage away.

Just as the man was about to repeat what he’d done today, a particular figure caught his attention.

(Y/N)...

Looking at your sleeping form while tightly holding onto his jacket was both calming but saddening as well. The question you asked him some days ago was still haunting his mind.

When was the last time our day-offs were on the same day?

He knew that this question wasn’t supposed to hint at something, but he couldn’t help but feel guilty. In truth, Bakugou had always requested that his day-offs were on days where you would work so that he could at least help you out even a little bit with the housework. The happy and surprised facial expressions you did when you saw just how much your boyfriend had done around the house always filled him with enormous self-satisfaction, so he figured: why not continue that way?

But now that this stupid interview had planted a small seed of doubt in his mind and after seeing you desperately clinging onto a piece of fabric that bore his smell, it made him realize that he’d lost sight of something quite more crucial than just simple relief of fewer dishes to wash.

His calloused fingers gently caressed your cheek while his red eyes focused on your slightly parted lips. He’d given everything to wake you up with a kiss on the lips, but there was no way he could cope with the guilt he would’ve felt from robbing these small but much-needed minutes of rest. Instead, he carefully picked you up like the princess you were for him, gently leaned your head on his shoulder, carried you to the big and fluffy bed the two of you had picked out together some years back. He was relieved to see that he’d been successful in not waking you up while he’d laid you down as carefully as possible.

After tucking you in like a cocoon, Bakugou shut the door behind him and pulled his mobile phone out of his jean’s pockets, frantically searching for a particular man’s number, and when he’d finally found the one he was looking for, he made no halt. He straight out called it while completely disregarding the fact that it was almost 1 AM.

A tired and grumpy voice picked up after the fourth ting, demanding to know just what the blond needed at such an ungodly hour.

“A favor...it’s about this week’s day-off.”

——

The next day you woke up to someone gently poking your cheeks, and when you finally managed to squint your eyes open, the first thing that stood out to you were spiky blond hairs.

“Katsuki..?” you asked in a silent voice, still unsure whether he was truly standing before you or not.

Said man changed his tactic and softly moved some of your hair from your eyes as he answered: “Yeah, it’s me. Now stop dawdling and get up or you’ll be late for work.”

Just as he was about to make some space for you to get out of bed, you wrapped your arms around his waist, which almost made the both of you fall over...almost.

“You little...what do you think you’re doing, huh?”

A muffled giggle was your answer to his rhetorical question, and no matter how hard he tried to get you off of him, you refused to let go, so for better or worse, he had to return your embrace and stay that way until you were satisfied.

After that short but wholesome cuddle session with your husband, you finally started doing as told and prepared for the upcoming workday.

“Alright then...I’ll be leaving,” you announced half loud, conscious of being a possible disturbance for your still sleeping neighbors while looking back at the already dressed up man behind you. Bakugou was standing there, and after seeing the desolate expression on your face, he immediately spread his arms, initiating the embrace you were so desperately looking for. While his arms rested on your back, rubbing it ever so gently you took his scent in, kissing his neck ever so gently, and wished him a good day.

——

“I’m home.”

You took a look around your dark apartment smiling sadly at the fact that your husband hadn’t come back yet, so you did what you always do on lonely evenings such as these: prepare some dinner, run a bath, surround yourself with soft blankets and watch your favorite shows and movies until you eventually drift off to sleep. The last thing you did before sleep caught up to you was check your phone’s calendar and check whether your partner’s day off matched yours and it sadly didn’t.

Alone tomorrow as well, huh…?

You had fallen asleep on such a sad and rather negative thought that it had killed your entire motivation for the following day. The moment you opened your eyes you immediately wanted to fall asleep yet again, so you turned yourself and were now facing your lover’s bed part. Suddenly something rather peculiar caught your eye. His bedside was way messier than when you slept alone, which could only mean that he had come home at some point and that’s when you heard a silent thud coming from beyond your room.

Could it be..?

You slowly got up and when you opened the bedroom door you were greeted by a rather funny sight. Bakugou was holding onto the kitchen counter with one of his hands and with the other he held his foot and was swearing silently something about how the ‘shitty counter’ had been in his way. He at first didn’t notice your presence but the moment you giggled softly his red eyes darted back to where you were standing.

“S-Shit…! Sorry babe, I didn’t mean to wake you!” he apologized in a silent voice. Instead of answering you simply jogged up to him and wrapped your arms tightly around his neck. This gesture was all he needed and his former anger was instantly blown away.

His strong arms glide along your back while his lips plant multiple gentle kisses on your temple. This gentle way of treating you wasn't something so uncommon and every time he did it it made you incredibly happy.

While you cuddled a sudden question crossed your mind that you couldn’t help but ask.

“Say Katsuki...it’s not like I’m ungrateful for you being here, but...isn’t your day off tomorrow?”

You expected him to get grumpy or insulted, but his reaction was quite the opposite of what you braved yourself for. The grin that appeared on his face was one full of pride and satisfaction, it was as if he had waited for that question.

“Well, what a coincidence of you to ask! Best Jeanist called me yesterday and said that he has to reschedule my free day for today, so I figured that I’d surprise you with some pancakes and grace you with my presence!”

His arrogant way of proclaiming this was a rather exaggerated attempt to hide the fact that he was actually the one who called up his superior at 1 AM in the morning, requesting the switch in days.

Normally such a sudden change wouldn’t be possible, but Best Jeanist had a hunch that his sidekick’s decision was most likely because of that interview he had a few days. The pro hero still remembered the way the blond had stormed into his office, screaming something about the audacity of the interviewer, about how these extras were lucky he held back, and how he’d make sure to ‘accidentally’ blow up their main building the next time he fought a villain. Considering his outburst, the older one figured that the questions must’ve been entirely different than anticipated so he decided to wait for the magazine’s next issue to release so that he could have a look as well.

You simply smiled to yourself and pressed your cheek on Bakugou’s trained chest, while the soft and pleasant smell of pancakes and sandalwood reached your nose. The two of you stayed like that for a couple of minutes until your husband gently pet your back, a subtle signal to signalize that it was time for the two of you to let go. With his warm hand still on your back he softly navigated you to one of the chairs he’d placed around your kitchen island and waited until you sat down so that he could serve you his fluffy creations.

“Et voilà! Katsuki’s extra fluffy and freshly prepared pancakes...hope you’ll enjoy them” he announced in a warm tone and kissed your cheek.

Looking at these soft goddesses you couldn’t help but lick your lips in anticipation, but you decided to wait for your beloved to join you so that you could dig in at the same time. It took a short while to persuade the blond who insisted that you start without him so that he could enjoy your blissful expression, but he yielded in the end.

His red eyes studied your positive reaction to the warm breakfast he’d prepared and a loving smile adorned his lips as he listened to the countless positive comments you uttered in regards to it.

Good thing I managed to escape her grasp this morning, ‘cause this expression is so worth it.

While you happily ate one bite after the other, Bakugou recalled today’s morning and how you had subconsciously wrapped your arms around his body and were cuddling up to him. The temptation to just lie there with you and shower your face with kisses until you woke up on your own was truly big, but he repeatedly told himself that your expression when you met him in the kitchen would be ten times cuter and more satisfying...and he was right.

“Hey (Y/N)...I love you, I really do” he said in a silent and almost soothing voice as he gently wiped off some crumbs from the corner of your mouth. You looked at him with slightly widened eyes. Your husband wasn’t that good with words as some so you often had to read between the lines and yet, this time you knew exactly what brought this sudden confession on.

The interview…

After swallowing that small bite of pancake which you’d been chewing on for a tad too long, you got up and walked around the edges of the island that separated you from your loved one.

The blond seemed to follow your line of thought and got up from his chair as well, already spreading his arms and readying himself for your embrace. When you were standing face to face with him you instinctively went for a hug and squeezed him as hard as you could while he placed his forehead on your shoulder and took in your pleasant smell.

It was at times like these where the thoughtfulness of your usually brash and impudent husband came to light and managed to cosy you along with his actions rather than his words.

While you were clinging onto his shirt the trash bin at the corner of your kitchen caught your eye and you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you recognized the familiar and slightly wadded front page of a certain magazine…

#bnha scenarios #mha scenarios #bnha imagines #mha imagines #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha fluff #mha fluff #━𝙱𝙽𝙷𝙰 #━𝙼𝙷𝙰

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starlightshadowsworld · 3 years

Text

Son of none

Based off this post: Aka Percy Weasley was abandoned by his family and I don’t think they realised just how much danger an 18 civilian blood traitor son would be when stuck behind enemy lines. Well never fear, a fic is here as if I don’t have any other drafts...any whoooo

@transparentfreakpursepanda

Warning for blood, torture, self loathing. Mentions of bullying and neglect. Cursing.

(Also while writing this I was listening to Polaris by Natewantstobattle and...yeah if you want more angst while reading this listen to them and think of Percy :) )

Percy deserved this.

Knowing that didn't change things. It didn’t make it easier to make it duck past the office that had once belonged to Barty Crouch Sr without feeling dread and greif. As harsh as the man could be and that he had not bothered to learn Percy's name... Percy still mourned his loss. For all that he was, Barty Crouch Sr had been a good man.

Life at the ministry taught him quickly, that kind of wizard was few and far between.

He wondered if the look Barty Crouch Sr had shared with his son before his death wax the same his father had shared with him the day he left.

Maybe it wasn't wise to compare yourself to a deranged murderer, but if that's the kind of wizard his family thought he was...

"Weasley"

It was stern, drenched in spite that was not unlike his old potions professor. But sadly even Snapes treatment of him in class did not hold a candle to what was happening now.

Percy lifted his head, it felt heavy. Infact all of him felt that he was on fire. The figure infront of him came into focus, not that Perch could quite recall his name. Edward? No that didn't seem right. Not Edward was his wand in hand and looked very annoyed, his dark mark was on full display.

Percy became very well aware in that moment that he couldn't move. He was bound to a chair in a room that looked very much like a cellar. He was still in his ministry robes, though they were dirty and tattered and stained in something.

It took Percy longer than he should've to realise it was his own blood. Not that he knew where he was bleeding from. "You Gryffindors and your bloody stubbornness" sneered Not Edward, he was a broad man, towering over Percy.

"You're wasting my time, and yours of you don't hurry up and tell me where your family is hiding." Percy shook his head, defiantly even if his body protested at the sudden movement. "Like I said before, even if I did know, I would never tell you."

And than Not Edward would shout profanities all the while using his subordinates to use Percy as target practice till he passed out. That had been the cycle for... Well he wasn't sure for how long. Apart from the first time when Percy had weaved a convincing story about the family heading to Romania to hide away with Charlie...a whole false hunt that ended with the brand he now had on his arm.

But this time was different.

Not Edward smirked "thought you'd say that, no matter. We've found out how to get there attention, and they'll hand themselves over." Percy laughed, it was a strangled and it sent another wave of pain through his body.

Not Edward was still smirking, in fact if anything his confidence grew. "And better yet, you're going to the bait that brings them here." And that stopped Percy laughing at once, he was quieter. "What makes you think they'd come" the words were barely above a whisper that echoed throughout the room.

Not Edward (Percy really needed to learn this man's name for his own internal monologue's sake) rolled his eyes "don't pull that on me, you Weasely's are more attached than a bunch of grapes. Rest assured, they'll be coming one way or another."

With that he left. Percy tried not to think about the fact a death eater had more confidence in his families arrival than he did. His mind wandered to the day he left, guilt pooled in his stomach. No amount of head trauma would erase the disgust and rage in Arthur’s eyes, Percy knew at that moment he had lost all right to call the man father.

He could never look him in the eye again, he couldn’t even look himself in the mirror without seeing him staring back. His mothers eyes haunted him, she’d been the only one to try to reach out but he had slammed that back in her face. Not that Percy should have been surprised, he’d always been a parasite.

If anything they must’ve been relived to be rid of him.

They wouldn’t come, he knew that. Than why did his heart race, did tears threaten to fall and his stomach churn at the thought? Percy thought of his siblings, young and old...they wouldn’t have given him a second thought. Fred and George would mourn the loss of their favourite target, but they would move on they all would if they hadn’t already.

For Percy though, this was the end of the line.

_______________________________________________________________

Weasley family dinners were always something else, Bill knew this better than most. He smiled to Fleur who sat at his side, amusement on her face as they both watched Molly do as she does best. It was organised chaos at its finest, and while Shell cottage was a far cry from the Burrow, somehow it all came together. Harry was laughing at a story Ginny and the twins were telling, Charlie and Hermione were actually helping Molly along with Arthur.

But even with how familiar it was, it was missing a certain brother rolling his eyes at the story and telling the true ending to the annoyance of the twins. Who would than direct the others to helping out with dinner to there mothers amusement.

Percy.

Ever since the watch, a muggle watch at that had arrived on his wedding day, with no name for the sender but only Bill’s name signed by an all too familiar handwriting...Bill hadn’t been able to take his mind of his little brother. His absence at his wedding and just seeing him around the house stuck out like a sore thumb to Bill. He wasn’t the only one either, he could see how his Mum would pause her eyes searching before looking down and moving onto something else.

Much like now when she put down the plates and realised that she’d left a little extra to the side. “Mum, I get that you miss him but you can’t keep doing this. Percy’s not coming back” the first to say it was Charlie, his voice soft like he was talking to an irate dragon. “Good riddance” that came from Ginny, in that whisper that wasn’t even trying to be quiet.

Instantly Molly became much like a dragon. “Ginevera Molly Weasley, don’t you dare speak about your brother like that!” She yelled, hot tears burning in her eyes. “Molly...” Interjected Arthur, putting a calming hand on his wife’s shoulder “you can’t blame her for her anger. Come on, let’s dig in.” And that should have been the end of it but Molly turned to him, her own temper boiling.

“Don’t you start, Arthur. Don’t you tell me I should be sat eating dinner while my son is out all alone.” She spat. “Mum, it’s fine Percy’s probably having high tea with the new minister, talking about the importance of cauldron bottoms” snickered Fred, “pfft yeah, just sat around telling the dark lord about his book report” agreed George. Bill frowned, as did Fleur but that was nothing compared to Molly.

Her gaze hardened and the twins shut up instantly, they’d never seen her this mad. “I dont care if you hate him, I don’t care if this isn’t my home...you speak of my son following HIM, get out of my sight now.” She said, slumping into a nearby chair. Bill stood up, putting his own hand in his mums which she took gratefully. “Percy may be the most ambitious lion around, but he wouldn’t join you know who. He left to join the ministry because that's what he believed in, death eaters isn’t even in the equation.”

And Bill meant those words. More than he ever thought he would.

“Though is there any difference between the death eaters and the ministry anymore?” Asked Harry, the place was filled with them after all. “Yeah? Might be but they’ve kept the employees, not that I know what’s going on in there anymore.” Said Arthur, adding his 2 galleon’s into the mix. “And there not going to take kindly to a Weasley” Said Hermione, making everyone look down as if they hadn’t just realised that.

It didn’t matter if Percy had disowned himself, his family was very much publicly fighting the people he was now stuck with.

And that was when fate decided to be extra cruel and the radio burst into life.

“Greetings from the Ministry. Our daily transmission has already been received today but we have an exceptional treat for the wizarding public. We will be instead hosting an interview with one of our newest employees, give a hand folks to Percival Ignatius Weasley.”

Everyone in the room froze, and yet Ron who was the only one of the family minus Fleur not to speak, ran to the radio and put the volume as loud as he could.

“Say hello your family, Percival.” Taunted the voice, it was very gleeful as it spoke. No response was heard. “Oh, silly me I forgot how many hours you young people work, not to worry let’s get him up boys.”

A splash was heard and a shuddering scream. “Morning Percival, sorry do you prefer Percy? Don’t care, lets start the interview. So Percival, how are you finding the ministry?” Everyone sat with baited breathe.

And yet it was there Percy who, through shuddered breaths managed to whisper a “fuck you...fuck you and your ministry”

“Well that is very rude, and here I thought your mother would have taught you manners” “don’t...don’t you talk about her.” Said Percy, Molly broke down into tears and Bill held her close. Unable to tear his gaze from the radio, no one could.

“What do you want to say them? I’m sure they’ve missed you. In fact, just for you we’ll be hosting a party. And there all invited to the ministry, so long as they bring a certain Mr Potter.”

There was a silence before “don’t come...don’t. Whatever you do, don’t... it’s fine. I’m fine, I love it here.” He laughed, everyone cringed at the sound he made, as if he was choking. “It’s fine, don’t come...parties are overrated yeah.” The transmission started cutting off, Ron frantically along with the twins tried to get it working.

They heard “too busy. Don’t come, Harry don’t...stay where you are!” Before the transmission cut off.

No one could speak, horror was etched into all of there faces. The twins were scrabbling over themselves with wand in hand to track where the transmission had come from.

The Ministry.

“We’re going...now” said Molly, standing up. Her tears were gone, grabbing for her wand and coat. “Molly...be rationale, we need to plan this.” Said Arthur, Molly spun on her heel and glared. “I am not going to sit here while those...monsters torture MY son! Planning will take to long, did you hear him Arthur?! Did you hear your son crying out in pain...he doesn’t have long left...” Arthur looked down, unable to respond.

Molly looked at the rest of the family, her gaze saying it all: You can come with me or you can stay. The first to stand was Bill, closely followed by Fleur who met his thankful gaze with a determined smile. Charlie and Ron were next, grabbing there wands with Harry and Hermione following. Ginny and the twins exchanged guilty looks but stood. Arthur couldn’t look at any of them, he simply picked up his wand.

“Harry, I understand if you wish to stay” said Molly, he shook his head. “I might not know him well but Percy’s family 2...I cant sit here while you guys go even with the danger.” He replied, and somehow that was all it was, Percy was family...enough said.

And so the family of lions got up and left, to find the one they left behind.

_______________________________________________________

Percy was terrified.

A part of him argued that he should be grateful they came at all for him. Maybe it was out of pity, out of ensuring that he wasn't able to be used against them.

Yes, that's all it was. He was nothing afterall, he was merely a civilian in a war.

And yet hearing Molly tearfully and frantically whisper his name. Hearing Hermione yell the counterspell to his imprisonment to Ron who did so perfectly. Seeing the light of spells cast by Ginny and the twins to stun Not Edward... (Who was apparently called Edgar... Eh close enough.)

Feeling Charlie carry him in his arms, mumbling curse words. Smelling Arthur's cologne.

It all felt right. It was warmth that he couldn't remember experiencing. It was enough to lull him to a facade that everything was fine.

But when his wounds were healed and he saw them all looking at him... Percy knew he had to shelf that dream. "I told you not to come" was the first thing he said, averting his gaze. (Couldn't look them in the eye)

"And you must've lost a few screws if you thought we wouldn't" said Bill, meeting Percy's gaze. "You shouldn't have" is all he replied. "And what, let you be killed by the ministry?" Gaped Ginny. Percy shrugged "wouldn't have made much difference, you've only gone and put yourselves in more danger."

"Are you... Are you fucking with us right now?" Asked Fred, incredously. "No, im too busy ranting about cauldron bottoms to do that." And if Fred paused, Percy didn't see it.

Seeing as no one was getting anyway, Bill sat beside Percy who immediately felt on edge. "Thanks for the watch" he said simply. Everyone blinked in confusion and than realisation as no one has known where Bill's new watch had come from. Percy smiled faintly "You're welcome, reminded me of you."

"Although, I do wish you could've gave it in person" continued Bill, testing the waters. Percy surprised him by shaking his head "no you wouldn't have. It was your day, I wasn't going to ruin it." Bill frowned "is that what you think?" Percy shrugged again "it's what I've been told."

"You are way to chill after being tortured" said Charlie, Percy looked at his bandaged arms and snorted. "Eh? It's nothing new. That guy was just there for the theatrics, sadist if you ask me." Charlie raised an eyebrow "nothing new?" Percy nodded "yeah, what you think the ministry that's so far up Voldermorts ass would allow me to work there without some 'interviews'."

Everyone paled.

"But than why stay there?" Asked Arthur, Percy froze. Steeling himself, switching from calm to panic to calm in an instant but they all saw. "I've got business there, things I need to get done and ensure are done. Speaking of which, thanks for the rescue but I should be off."

He didn't belong here. Not anymore.

"Percy, you can stay." Said Molly, already standing up to get his room prepared. "No, I can't. I have work, I have a duty... And I'm no longer part of this family." When he said that, Percy felt like the wind was knocked out of him but stood his ground. "Percy... That's not true.."

Percy met Arthur's gaze, his father's eyes. "Really? Than pray tell why did no one tell me you were all in hiding... Or a warning? And don't say it was impossible because I managed to send a parcel to a location I didn't even know about nor knew existed."

No one could answer that.

"I'll be off, and don't worry I won't tell them anything. Just do what you do best, and leave me alone." Arthur managed to grab Percy's wrist though he hissed in pain and pulled his arm back like he'd been burnt. "Don't.. Touch me, Arthur Weasely."

Arthur recoiled, Percy looked away. "I spent my whole life wanting to be someone you could be proud off...I listened to all the critism and yes I was a prat. But the moment I made my own choice you already made me aware I didn't belong in my own house. I’m sorry...that I’m not athletic like Ginny, I’m not smart like Ron or as successful as Bill and Charlie, I’m not a hero like a Ron or fun like Fred and George. That I’m just plain ol prat Percy.”

He began to walk away. Just like he did before.

"That choice was against following Dumbledor, turning against the light." Said Molly, wanting him to understand. Percy laughed, with no humour at all but glaring hard. Rage emanated from him.

"I'm sorry if I choose not to stand behind an old coot who routinely sends an abused boy to his abusers, who nearly got 3 11 yearolds killed because he wanted to weed out a possibility. Who nearly got thousands of children killed and did nothing to save Ginny with the chamber. The man who wouldn't give an innocent man a trial and got him sent to the worst prison for 12 years... Who put teenagers in a death game and let an underage kid join because why not. That man is a monster and I refuse to follow someone like that. But no that means I'm blindly following authority." He sneered, staring at them all.

"And the ministry? Because as corrupt and fucked up as it is I know I can do something. That changes can be made in the systems to benefit everyone, Dumbledor is someone who breeds child solider’s and let's a known abuser teach at his school and somehow I’m the only one who isn't okay with that."

And with that Percy left, no one knew what to say. They simply sat in silence, absorbing everything they just heard. Ginny thought about how Percy had profusely apologised after she was free from the chamber, how he’d made time for her since than. Ron thought of all the times they’d have an adventure and Percy would watch over them like a mother hen.

Bill and Charlie recalled when Percy would still come to them for help before he started Hogwarts. When they found him bruised and broken from bullies except this was because of them. “He really thinks that doesn’t he...?” Said Fred, George nodded. Neither could smile, guilt pooled in their hearts that they didn’t think he felt like that.

Molly sobbed for her son who was once again lost and Arthur wondered where he had gone wrong to lose his son all over again.

________________________________________________

Meanwhile Percy entered a muggle flat in London. Alone again just like he belonged, laying on his bed and looking at the brand on his arm.

'Son of none'

And if that didn't hurt most of all.

Suffice to say they all things to think about for when they’d meet again.

#percy weasley #Percy Weasely deserved better #angst #self loathing #depression #Percy Weasely needs a hug #blood #Torture #swearing #Sorry if it's rushed

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machinegunbun · 3 years

Text

Toxic +

TW?: It’s just a toxic relationship. What a weird mood to be in, huh?

Word Count: 1.1k

Today had been one hell of a day. Colson was doing another hot ones interview and was asked if he’d ever fallen in love. He said no. It was completely inconspicuous to the hundreds of thousands of viewers, I mean it’s machine gun kelly, the dude isn’t exactly a romantic. No one seemed to care, but you.

You.

Who had spent the last two years wrapped up in his arms, telling him how much you cared about him. How much he meant to you. You would wake up in the middle of the night to his phone calls and stay up till you saw the sun, calming him down from panic attacks and breakdowns. You repeatedly put him before yourself because you just wanted him to be okay. You had told each other more than once that you loved each other, and yet when it came down to it he faltered, not only not mentioning you, but saying he had never even been in love.

So what was all this? You wondered, but a waste of your precious time. You knew Colson was a player when you started dating him, you knew he didn’t like to settle down, you knew it was a long shot, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

Colson was well aware of how you felt, lots of emotion communicated through your little text fight. When you stopped responding he opted to go to your apartment instead, where you couldn’t avoid him.

“Open the door.” Colson said, knocking lightly.

“No.” The little voice said, muffled by the door.

“Come on, let's talk about this.”

He pressed his ear to the door, soft sobs barely coming through. Were you… crying? His heart broke at the thought, he didn’t think it was a big deal, he figured if he said yes that there would be follow up questions that he just wasn’t ready to answer. He didn’t mean he never loved you.

Colson sighed, heading to his car. He drove to the Walmart, taking the time stuck in the constant traffic to think of what he would say to you when he got back.

Maybe he should’ve thought a little more, or left a little longer, because when he returned you ended up in a full out yelling match. It was cut off halfway through when he was yelling and banging on the door and your neighbor had yelled at the two of you to

“Shut the fuck up already!”

Colson sat outside your door, a tub of your favorite icecream in hand, and mouth, and cheek, and some had even managed to get on the bottom of his shoe. He didn’t wanna question how that had happened. When the odd tear would fall from his eyes and stream down his face he would wipe it away, the ice cream on his hand transferring onto his cheek unbeknownst to him, leaving him a sobbing, sticky mess.

A couple walked down the hallway, glancing from door to door and eventually stopping in front of him.

“Is this (Y/N)’s apartment?”

“Yeah.” Colson said, staring up at him quizzically. Was this man a part of the FBI or CIA and here to arrest you? Were you some global crime lord, breaking his heart by day and slinging drugs by night? Were you a superhuman, who had once used their powers for good but slipped up and were now seeking refuge in a crappy apartment building in New York? Or maybe you were an alien, here to explore the human psyche and that's why your relationship had been so difficult, but now that he knew maybe you could live together happily and get married after fleeing the country to hide from the US government. No, he figured, the man was not dressed nicely enough.

“Who are you?” The man asked,

“I’m (Y/N)’s boyfriend. Who are you?” Colson returned, looking between the couple stood in front of him.

“I’m her dad.” Panic shot through Colson as the words left the older man's mouth, fumbling to his feet and offering his hand that wasn’t holding ice cream.

“Nice to meet you, sir,” he chuckled “this isn’t how I imagined it.” (Y/N)’s father looked from Colson’s hand to his face, studying him. Who was this guy, and why is he crying on my daughters doorstep? He wondered. He caves and gives the boy a handshake, not wanting to leave him hanging, before turning to his daughters door and placing three firm knocks on the wood.

“Fuck off!” She yelled, throwing an object that made a large thump as it hit the door, ricocheting off and landing somewhere by her couch.

“Okay, you should go.” Your father said decidedly, turning to the tall blonde that stood before him. Colson nodded in agreement, understanding that it would be best to let you have your space, at least for now. His footsteps were muffled by the carpet as he walked, getting quieter as he got farther and farther down the hallway, eventually disappearing into the elevator.

Colson wasn’t going home, he actually lived in the apartment building, he was only going to his car to have a good cry, but he figured your dad didn’t need to know that.

“(Y/N)?” Your father called from outside the door, worry lacing his voice. You didn’t seem very happy about the guy sitting and crying outside your door, he began to wonder if maybe he was some sort of stalker. A creep, yes, that must’ve been it. He should’ve given the guy a good punch while he was here, he thought, but he was gone now, and that’s all that mattered.

You opened the door, your head tilted slightly down in embarrassment. You hadn’t wanted them to hear that, you had completely forgotten they were coming altogether, and now you had to explain what had happened.

“Hey!” You feigned happiness, wrapping your arms around your parents one by one, taking a step back to look at them when you were done.

“Are you okay?” Your mother asked, knowing the answer from the red in your face.

“I’m great. It’s great... It’s so great to see you guys.” You tried your best to convince them, knowing your efforts would be all for not considering what they’d just experienced.

“I told the guy crying on your doorstep to go home after you threw something at your door.” Your father says, obviously trying to prompt the conversation in that direction.

“Cool, no problem,” You sniffle, sickly missing him already “I’m gonna take a quick shower, but you’re welcome to anything in the fridge.” You add, turning around and walking towards the bathroom.

Your parents knew something was up, but their prodding hadn’t seemed to get them much of anywhere.

“Who do you think that guy was?” Your mother asks, the steady sound of water running coming from the bathroom.

“Her boyfriend.”

“I sure hope not.” Your mother comments.

#mgk #mgk angst #mgk fanfic #mgk x reader #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly angst #machine gun kelly fanfic #machine gun kelly x reader #colson baker #colson baker angst #colson baker fanfic #colson baker x reader

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slashbitch2 · 3 years

Text

Wavelength

slight nsfw warning ;)

Eve had always felt that she stood out from those around her. That in every situation, in every group and at every point in her life, she was walking round on an entirely different wavelength. Although, living this way wasn't as direly lonely as it sounded, rather she learnt to appreciate the few and far apart moments with company. When someone would, for just a split second, understand her.

The first person to ever make her feel this way, and regrettably the only for a very long time, was Ted. He'd swept her off her feet and into a less isolated world, a concept so unfamiliar at the time that she'd allowed herself be dragged out to sea. Then there was Brandon, who she was told would change her whole world. And he did, for a while.

Brandon was her life preserver until his priorities changed; until Mother's day cards became Valentines day cards, movie nights were exchanged for house parties and homework for alcohol. But Eve wasn't the kind of mom to act as though this behaviour was unwarranted and abhorrent, so she let him wedge the door shut and clear his search history. She could cope with a little more distance.

Then along came Ted's affair, their crumbling marriage and eventual divorce. Before she knew it, she was drowning.

The all too familiar feeling of solitude reappeared, completely devastating for her when Brandon left for college. However, this time she swore that she wouldn't let it overwhelm her, and did everything possible to prevent herself from sinking. Which initially started with a class at a community college, and ended with her lying in the arms of both her colleague Amanda, and classmate Julian. And yet, after they'd hurriedly packed up their things and left, she felt no better.

Brandon was sitting on the porch when she found him later. His back was turned to her, but the hunched up posture and awkward shuffling said more than enough. In that moment, Eve reverted back to her old way of thinking. She came to the conclusion that she'd failed as a mother, that her mistake was unforgivable despite the years of morose behaviour and selfish demeanour Brandon had subjected her to.

For retribution, she removed Julian's number from her contacts, predicting that he wouldn't be able cope with remaining friends. He too immature, still in that irrational sulky stage of adolescence. Next, she specified to Amanda that what happened was a one time thing, though she was already way ahead of Eve, chatting casually like nothing had taken place that weekend. Her easy-going reaction was a nice break from the prevailing tension with Brandon, which she then mentioned to her friend.

She tried to casually bring the subject up in the same manner that she imagined Amanda would if the roles were reversed, acting like the issue was nothing to do with her.

"As much as I hate to use such an outdated phrase," Her friend said. "boys will be boys. "

Eve chuckled, though the general concern weighing down on her shoulders meant it came out as more of a scoff. "You can say that again."

There's a brief lull in conversation as Eve disinterestedly taps away at her phone while Amanda sips thoughtfully at her coffee. The silence is only invoked by an awareness of social standards, since there's much Eve wants to talk to her friend about, but feels would be inappropriate in public.

Eventually, Amanda's the one to break the silence. "Are you still looking for someone to fill in for Sarah?"

Eve's attention flickered back to the woman sitting opposite. "I am." She replied hesitantly, knowing that she ought to have posted the job advertisement weeks ago, but had forgotten.

"I know someone who'd be good." Amanda was sliding her phone across the table before Eve got the chance to respond.

The screen displayed what she could only assume was a job application, though the font was too small to actually read. Squinting, she picked up the device to try and glean some information about the potential applicant.

Amanda continued as Eve scrolled. "She hasn't worked with seniors before, but has managerial experience."

"Are you sure she'd want this job?" Eve asked apprehensively as she set the phone down. "Seems a little over-qualified to me."

"Yeah, she's serious about it." Amanda's expression grew more determined. "Y/N just moved here. Mentioned she was looking for a more lowkey kind of job."

Eve remained doubtful.

"She's travelled a lot. Had a lot of different jobs." Amanda took another sip of her drink. "But she said she wants to settle down somewhere. Get a job that'll take her to retirement- which was an exaggeration, but you get the gist."

"Well." Eve sighed. "You can't get much closer to retirement than working at a nursing home."

"Exactly. So can I pass on her contact details then?"

"Sure." She shrugged. Assuming that her friend's recommendation was genuinely helpful, then she would be saved from suffering through the tedious interview process, which was worth taking a risk for.

---

As Eve sat at her desk, the world around her faded into obscurity. Without Sarah as the assistant manager, she'd been suffocating under piles of neglected paperwork, only now forcing her way through it. The main thought motivating her was that you were due to arrive any minute, for what she'd described as a first informal interview. The idea of conducting anything more formal this late into the evening was unappealing. So, based on the unusual circumstance by which you'd applied, and the strange time slot reserved, the interview would be more casual.

Finding that her eyes were starting to strain, she granted herself a quick break to look round the office. Eventually she settled on looking out the window, content watching the world pass by. The day had been unexpectedly hot, and some of that humidity still lingered, but judging by the gentle breeze filtering in through a crack in the window, the evening must've started to cool. A soft pink colour filled the sky, darkening to orange where the sun had just set over the horizon. From the other direction, a deep blue had begun to filter into view, the only indication that night was approaching.

When her gaze drifted back to the room, she realised that the pink light was cast around the room, bathing every surface in a delicate glow. How the simple beauty of the evening had previously escaped her attention was a mystery. One that prompted Eve to take a break to admire it.

The break was short-lived, however, as a sharp knock at the door quickly stole her attention away.

"Come in." She called out but found her voice hoarse from disuse. She frantically cleared her throat as the guest entered.

Eve looked up at you and smiled politely, then down at her desk, then did a double take. Although she hadn't given enough thought to form any preconceived image of what you might look like, she certainly hadn't expected someone quite so attractive.

As soon as the label crossed her mind, she was already berating herself for it. You'd barely entered the room and were here for business, she couldn't let herself think of you in that way. It was wrong. Both professionally and morally.

"Evening." Your voice was deep, smooth and with an accent she couldn't distinguish.

Eve tried her best to smile amiably, though she was sure the emotion wasn't reflected in her eyes. Instead she scanned your body from top to bottom, lingering on your neck, and then your hands. The action was automatic. An unintentional response to her attraction- and there it was again. She'd allowed herself to get distracted barely ten seconds later.

"Hi." Eve was too quiet, her tone lacking the necessary command. She swallowed. "Please, take a seat." And smiled, this time more genuinely.

"Thank you."

She watched you stiffly slide into the seat, effortlessly demanding the attention of the entire room. Although Eve had known you for less than a minute, she'd already decided that there was something hypnotic about the way you moved. From the slight twitch in the corner of your lips, to the gentle rise and fall of your chest. Every movement, regardless of it being barely perceptible, had her mesmerized, however she was mostly fixated on your hands. How they couldn't quite settle in your lap, rather were wrung about anxiously until abruptly stilling.

Your hands falling limp dragged Eve back into reality as it dawned on her that she'd been staring for a little longer than appropriate. She literally had to shake herself out of the senseless state and clear her throat once more before she was ready to continue.

"It's nice to meet you." Jolted into reality, she outstretched her hand, which you eagerly met. Your grip was firm, matched with a confident yet humble smile that looked well practiced.

"And you."

Eve already understood how you'd succeeded at accumulating such an impressive employment history, as every second of the interview so far, you'd acted perfectly. Like you'd written the book on 'How to Handle Job Interviews.'

"Just call me Eve." Separating from the handshake, she dismissively waved her hand, unable to hold the eye contact for any longer. There was an inquisitive manner to the way you were watching her, as though you were trying to ascertain the most information possible from appearance alone. Being exposed to your scrutinising glare caused Eve to shift in her seat, though not from discomfort or uneasiness, rather from inadmissible lust.

As the interview progressed, her eyes continued to occasionally stray toward your hands. Despite how hard she was trying to stay focused, she kept catching herself unintentionally imagining how they'd look gripping her waist, pushing apart her thighs. And if she blocked out this particular fantasy, then her attention would shift to your neck, and how she'd love to bite down on the supple skin presented to her.

She'd hoped that her fling with Amanda and Julian would've suppressed her incorrigible longing for pleasure, yet still found her thighs pressing together as her imagination overpowered reason. All the scandalous scenarios flashing through her mind only grew more vivid, more frequent. An incessant stream of borderline pornographic images, which worsened her guilt as she struggled to focus on what you were saying.

The cool breeze from earlier seemed to have vanished, replaced by unbearable humidity. She could feel herself sweating bucket loads, and only flushed more upon realising that she must've looked a mess; with stray hairs framing her face, an inability to sit still and a layer of perspiration covering her entire body. You'd probably noticed by now.

"God it's been hot recently." You commented, playing with the neckline of your shirt.

Had Eve not been observing you so closely, she would've guessed this was general small-talk. But judging on how you'd acted so far, this was a strategically placed act of mercy, a way of excusing her, no doubt, dishevelled appearance.

"Yeah." Eve chuckled, twirling a strand of hair round her finger. "We could move outside." She suggested, then quickly added. "If you wanted to, that is." Her desperation to please you came as a surprise. The roles should've been reversed. You should've been trying to impress her.

Eve had undeniably lost all authority in the situation, which simply excited her further.

---

When Eve laughed, she scrunched up her face and closed her eyes, which was inconvenient even at the best of times. Right now, however, she'd never despised the quirk quite so much.

As inconsequential as the current circumstances would look to any passer-by, she wanted to commit every detail to memory. From the lingering pink hue of dusk, to the way you threw your head back as you laughed. In fact, she wanted to memorise everything about you. Since leaving behind her stuffy office, conversation had flown easily between the two of you, the matter of employment seemingly dropped in place of getting to know one another. You'd indisputably gotten the job. Eve knew it. You knew it. So both were happy to indulge in a lighter tone of conversation.

The topic had turned to worst first date experiences, so she had very few to share with you, though that didn't stop her from enjoying listening to your little anecdotes.

"What about you?" Taking a calming breath after an outburst of laughter, you paused to ask her the dreaded question.

In comparison to your story, her worst date was relatively tame. "Well." She scratched at the corner of her eye, considering whether she could exaggerate in some way. "I went on a date recently that I had to walk out of."

"Really?" You folded your arms, leaning back against the brick wall. "What happened?"

"Nothing. I guess it just didn't feel right." She shook her head, hoping to deter any more questioning.

"Fair enough. Sometimes you just know- right?"

Eve drew her eyes away from being locked on the ground, finally summoning the resolve to look directly back at you. She bit her lip, compelling herself to nod.

There was something about you that was pure ecstasy to her. While looking at you, she could feel herself falling deeper into the hypnotic state she'd been in earlier, unable to tear her eyes away and unwilling to try. In spite of the normality of the situation, it felt meaningful. Eve didn't feel so alone, so out of place. Which made no sense to her as she'd known you for barely over an hour.

"What did you do after?" Your voice was somehow deeper, eyes lidded and posture relaxed. "After the date." You clarified.

The inquiry was personal, even without context that could be inferred. Eve hummed, delaying her response long enough to consider how much she was willing to divulge. "I-" She laughed nervously, suddenly embarrassed to confess. "I went swimming."

"Swimming?" Your eyebrows shot up, amused by the many connotations of her vagueness. "Where?"

Eve scuffed the heel of her shoe against the concrete ground, shamefully incapable of returning the eye contact. "Here." She admitted quietly, grinning as if in disbelief that she'd actually done it.

"Wow. I'll be honest, I wasn't expecting that." You took a deep breath, rendered speechless for a second. "So, you have access to the pool?"

Eve shifted restlessly, hesitant to pursue the topic any further. She knew where this was going, and that she shouldn't endorse this type of behaviour. But the heat wasn't helping, and neither was her overactive imagination. She was supposed to be responsible, but then again, so were you.

Inevitably the possibilities of what could be overpowered her better judgement. "Yes." She reached into her pocket, producing the coveted key ring and hanging it on her pointer finger.

Upon glancing up, she discovered you were watching her intently, indisputable lust reflected in your eyes. Eve found herself in one of those rare moments where she felt understood, on the same wavelength as someone else. The logical part of her brain argued that you were basically a stranger. That if she followed through on your shared idea, then your hiring and subsequent job experience would be forever tainted. But the possibilities were too tempting to ignore.

So when you asked. "Want to go swimming?"

She couldn't refuse.

---

You'd held her hand as she'd lead, the reasoning being that most the facility was shrouded in darkness. Though Eve liked the weight of your hand in hers, so she didn't bother to turn the lights on until reaching the pool. Only then did you separate, crouching down to check the temperature. You beamed with childlike joy as you waved your hand around in the water, skimming the surface then diving deeper down.

Eve grinned. Your pure happiness was infectious, the effect it had on her similar to being drunk. She was intoxicated from exhilaration. She would've been content watching you relish in the feeling of water running through your fingers for eternity, though to her dismay, you soon grew bored. And then to her surprise, you unabashedly began to strip. Her eyes were glued to the expanse of your back as you pulled your shirt over your head, and to the revealed skin as you tugged your trousers down.

She had to stop herself from stumbling back as the strange reality of the situation suddenly dawned on her. Instead, she reacted by comically clutching at her heart, clawing the fabric of her own shirt.

You turned to the side, looking at her out of the corner of your eye. "You coming?"

She chewed on her lip, pondering the two words in greater detail. This was you asking for consent, giving a final warning. You were both aware that this was an incredibly outlandish idea, an extremely irresponsible one that should've discouraged Eve. Yet it had the opposite effect.

Before she could overthink the consequences, her shaking hands were clumsily unbuttoning her blouse. At the unspoken confirmation, you smirked back at her, then without warning, threw yourself into the pool. The splash echoed round the room, proceeded by carefree laughter as you resurfaced and began leisurely swimming away from her. While you were busy, Eve took the chance to continue undressing without interference.

Her insecurities didn't emerge until it was too late, resolved moments later as she dove into the pool. The water was colder than she'd anticipated, but her burning desire dulled the intensity. Breaking through the water's surface, she inhaled deeply, grateful for the supply of oxygen. However, her breath was soon stolen from her as she noticed you were treading water directly in front.

Somehow, you looked even more beautiful now. With the wave's reflections dancing across your skin, your hair drenched and dripping. She wanted to chase after the droplets with her tongue, despite knowing she'd likely be met with the bitter taste of chlorine. But what really flustered Eve was the way you were staring at her; the hunger in your eyes that hinted at your intentions.

Your stillness was teasing her, the water practically stagnant around you both. Eve was becoming increasingly irritated, the heat between her legs only growing. So it didn't take long for her to snap. She lunged forward in an attempt to grab hold of you, though her hands couldn't quite clutch onto your slippery skin. She stumbled to the left, floundering around until you grabbed hold of her.

Upon securing her grip, she froze, due to both the sensation of your body pressed up against hers, and her embarrassment. She couldn't bare to look up, to face her awkward failure. After a beat of silence, she heard you laugh lightly. It wasn't necessarily unpleasant or mocking, but she insisted on keeping her eyes locked on the wall. That was, until your lips gently brushed against her ear.

"Were you trying to kiss me or drown me?"

She snorted, the tension leaving her body, then turned to rest her forehead on your shoulder. "The former. Definitely."

You laughed again. This time Eve joined in, happy to ignore what'd just occurred.

"Want to try that again, then?" You kissed just behind her ear, causing a shiver to suffuse across Eve's body. She waited a minute, expecting more before realising you intended for her to make the next move.

She glanced up at your face, fixating on your lips. You were so close. All she had to do was lean forward ever so slightly. One final glance to your lidded eyes confirmed you wanted the same- all she had to do was close the distance.

Taking a shaky breath, Eve shifted a hand up to cup your cheek, her thumb softly stroking your skin. There was no rush; you both wanted the same thing and were eager to revel in the experience. So, when her lips finally grazed against yours, there was no deep sigh or sudden change in pace, rather a blooming warmth in her chest. She was floating, both literally and metaphorically in a sea affection.

She kissed you again, this time with more conviction. Then fell backwards, her feet now comfortably resting on the bottom of the pool, her back hitting the wall as your grip on her waist tightened. You dragged a hand across her chest, causing her to gasp. Your touch was scolding compared to the cool water. A perfect balance between lustful heat and a mind-numbing, all-encompassing chill.

She raised her arms, flinging them around you and exhaling as her impatience reappeared. Though thankfully, you didn't make her wait long. Soon enough, your mouth had latched onto her neck, leaving messy kisses from behind her ear, to down by her shoulders. The feeling was pure bliss, encouraging her to lean into you and press your bodies closer together.

She didn't need to say anything. You seemed to know exactly what you were doing. Like you had her body memorised: every caress was perfectly placed, each touch just what she needed. It didn't take long for Eve to reach her pleasure, although she did spend a while in a dazed state of satisfaction, simply drifting in your arms. Eventually, she regained awareness to feel you tenderly nibbling on her lower lip, and eagerly reciprocated the kiss.

Motivated by the sudden fervour, she switched the positions, pushing you up to the wall.

"Get on the ledge." Eve murmured against your lips. She looped her arms under your thighs, ready to lift once you'd agreed.

Surprised by her abrupt confidence, you quirked an eyebrow, but obeyed nonetheless.

With you sat before her, she knew the evening was only just beginning, and judging by your breathless expression you felt exactly the same. This was one of those rare moments where Eve felt completely understood.

#eve fletcher x reader #mrs fletcher #eve fletcher

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let-them-read-fics · 3 years

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Handle With Care

Requested By @posies4rosie: "Jisoo once gave advice in an interview to people who are having anxiety/depression, that when they feel themselves “slipping under”, they can try turning their thoughts to something lighter and focus on the better things instead before getting consumed. -- Request for reader x Jisoo where reader had one of those episodes and failed to pull herself out, which she thinks she’s failing Jisoo by not being able to help herself, causing her to sink even further. -- Jisoo uses her way to help reader. Angst with a happy ending, please <3"

Pairing: Jisoo x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ~ 3,948

Warnings / Misc. -- Angst, Self-Doubt, Mentions Of Anxiety / Depression, Fluff, Light Smut / Suggestive Themes, Some Cursing, Happy Ending

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Hello again, my lovely readers! I really enjoyed writing this one, so thank you very much for requesting. I hope all of you enjoy it -- Happy reading!

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

The day started off like any other, nothing seeming out of place or particularly noteworthy as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and took a look around the room. Jisoo had to leave before you woke up, and a sweet letter on the bedside table served as her parting gift.

My love,

We have an early stage today, but I'll be back before you know it. Turn it on if you miss me too much ;)

All my love and kisses,

Your Jichu

It made you smile, imagining her saying those words with a little smirk on her lips, and you mindlessly toyed with the edge of the paper. The power this woman holds over your heart is a bit frightening, if you're honest with yourself. One simple note, merely a paragraph at best, warms your heart immensely. The thought of her alone is capable of making you giddy, magically turning you into a love stricken teenager. She rules your world with care, always making sure you feel important and valued; she fights your demons right beside you, never backing down for a minute.

Before Jisoo, you falsely thought you knew what love was; the ill-conceived notion that you used as a guide was flawed in every way. You were raised to believe that true, honest love only existed in far-off realms -- in worlds of make-believe; so, naturally, settling had always been your forte. You blended in and stuck with the crowd, always going for the safest option when given the choice. You limited yourself with each decision you made, and deep resentment blossomed within you.

Resentment at your family for allowing the disease of self-doubt to grow within you. They could've stopped it before it really began; they could've assured you of your worth instead of letting you think your insecurities true.

Resentment at yourself for believing them.

Everytime you attempted to break the pattern and listen to your heart when it told you that there was a world beyond such mundanity, some nagging voice in the back of your head told you it was all a lie. Your life so far, as boring as it may have been, was predictable and safe. Although you ached for the unexpected, for some all-consuming thrill to shake up the life you had grown to accept, you always fell back into that old mindset. Your fears outweighed your courage every time, and you knew it was futile to go against them.

But one day -- one beautiful, fateful day -- you met Jisoo. It was a time in your life that you needed a friend; someone to listen and assure you that things would be okay. In allowing your paths to cross, the universe most certainly blessed you; Jisoo became your confidant in the blink of an eye, offering consistency and understanding, and you let her slip past the walls you spent years so meticulously putting up.

You didn't do that often, and yet it seemed like a no-brainer with her. She made you feel as though you were enough, that you mattered in a world that so adamantly tried to make you believe otherwise. Her love was unconditional and fierce, thorough and far-reaching.

Keeping people at arm's length had always been your way of ensuring that life stayed as predictable as ever, precariously balanced in that safe zone of no risk. Even when you dated people, giving into those innate desires to be cherished despite not deeming yourself worthy, you never really let them in. Not all the way, at least. Something always told you that others were better; closer to perfection. No matter the person, you could always find a reason to say that they were better. That they were something you'd never be; that they had something you'd never have.

The comparisons didn't stop when you began dating Jisoo, but they sure as hell slowed down some. All of that was her doing; she filled your mind with constant reassurance and love, always showing you what a healthy relationship looked like. Over the years, she learned to read you well: the shifting of your eyes served as a sign that you were getting overwhelmed; the way that you zoned out told her the negative thoughts were barreling in. Though she's convinced you to give yourself some credit in the matter, she's the main one responsible for getting you where you are today.

She's your strength -- your reason for wanting to be better.

-------

"Dalgooomie," you cheerily sing out, your voice echoing throughout the apartment. That familiar sound of paws on hardwood draws a smile from you, and you turn to see him eagerly scrambling towards you.

"Good morning buddy! Are you ready for a walk?" For a moment, you swear he can understand your high pitched speech; he spins around, wagging his tail happily as he looks towards the door.

With a laugh, you clip his leash on and the two of you begin your walk.

It's a gorgeous morning; the sun is peeking up, illuminating a sky of beautifully pastel colors as the grass shines with dew. The beads spring off in different directions, the surface tension of the water breaking every time Dalgom rustles his way through the lawn. You have a feeling that today will be a good day.

If only you knew.

About 15 minutes later, you unlock the front door and grin as he charges into the familiar space. He tugs you with him, drawing a chuckle from you as your feet stumble in through the doorway.

"Slow down buddy! I know you're hungry but you've gotta give me a second," you shake your head, amused, as you remove his leash and make your way to the kitchen. He follows suit, barking when you take too long for his liking.

"Yah, okay okay!" You scoop his food into the bowl and pat him on the head as he begins to eat.

A ding from your phone sounds off, the notification surprising you a little. Great timing, you think to yourself.

"About to go on stage, I'll text you later. Xoxo"

Your heart warms at the message, and you type a quick reply before heading to the couch to turn the tv on.

At first, all is well: you watch your girlfriend in awe, always so enraptured by her performances. During one portion of the program, you even run upstairs to retrieve your lightstick and dance around in the middle of the living room. As much as Jisoo can't believe you actually bought one, she thinks it's the most adorable thing ever.

Everything was going well, truly, until towards the end of the show, when the girls were interviewed with a few other idols. One in particular, a female soloist, stood beside Jisoo, looking completely at ease next to her. She was beautiful in every way imaginable, and you couldn't help but begin to compare yourself. You tried to focus on how happy Jisoo looked as she joked with her members, answering the questions with that quick wit you love so much. But your mind soon again filled with intrusive thoughts, taking the focus away from Jisoo.

She looks so much prettier than you do

Watch how she's looking at Jisoo

They look pretty together

What if Jisoo likes her?

I bet she does

You physically shake your head in an attempt to force the thoughts out. Jisoo loves you, you know that. She's with you for a reason. Eventually you're able to look at the tv again without grimacing, but soon that progress is destroyed all over again.

The soloist puts her hand on Jisoo's arm, motioning to the girls and herself as she explains something to the MC. She must've cracked a joke, said something really hilarious, because all of them burst into laughter. Jisoo throws her head back, bringing her hand up to cover her mouth as she giggles loudly. That joyous sound hurts you now, almost feeling like she's laughing at you.

It's ridiculous and immature, but your brain takes it there no less. You know better, but your mind is flooded with insecurity and fear, overrun by your unforgiving worries. Tears are streaming down your face as the thoughts grow worse and worse, and it feels suffocating. You consider yourself weak for blowing such a seemingly innocent thing so out of proportion, twisting what should be a positive thing for your girlfriend into something negative. But you can't help it. Your brain betrays you, coming up with hundreds of hurtful scenarios that pile on until you can't breath. It's a physical pain, one far too overwhelming to "wish away" now. You turn off the tv and dart up the stairs, set on crying into your pillow until your mind decides to give you a break.

-------

"Y/N, baby, I'm home." Jisoo calls, and you can hear the material of her jacket slide onto the metal hook beside the front door.

"In here," you say weakly, cursing your voice for even hinting that you're less than okay. For Jisoo, you want to be perfect; you want to seem like you have your shit together. She must not have thought anything out of the ordinary, though, because soon you hear a little giggle from the hallway.

"Hi Dalgomie, did you miss mommy?" She coos, her voice higher than usual and bouncy as she bends down to scoop up the pup. She pads her way into the kitchen, talking to him all the while. Her free arm snakes around your waist once she reaches you, and she leans around to kiss your temple.

The action was loving and simple -- it shouldn't have made your heart ache. Perhaps it wasn't the act itself that caused it; maybe it was the accumulation of all of your emotions from the day coming to the surface. The feeling of Jisoo's arm around you reminded you of earlier; of how close she was to that woman on the program. They looked incredible, clad in the blingy outfits you could never afford and elegant in their mannerisms. It all brought forth the nasty idea that she's just settling for you -- that she's only with you because she feels sorry for you.

When you don't start a conversation like normal or even turn to look at her, Jisoo knows something's wrong. Gently, she kisses Dalgom's head before setting him down on the ground. He trots off towards god-knows-where, and you almost wish to be him. You want to avoid the discussion you'll surely be having any minute now; running away has always been your go-to.

But Jisoo won't stand for that. She's mature and honest in every way, and she knows how to handle you.

"My love, what's wrong?"

She's earnestly concerned, and her tone lets you know she doesn't want you to brush the problem away. Without even knowing the issue yet, Jisoo can tell it's something worth working through.

"I had an episode today and I wasn't able to stop it." You hang your head, your fingers busying themselves by toying with the bread bag in front of you. Once you had stopped crying earlier, you came down to make yourself some food; after all, you hadn't eaten all day.

Jisoo tuts at you, slowly turning you around to face her. The back of your legs lean against the counter now, and tears threaten to spill out of your eyes. A few moments of silence pass, Jisoo giving you the opportunity to elaborate. She always offers you the option to initiate the process, not wanting to risk diminishing your feelings before even knowing what's troubling you. She never patronizes you, and you're endlessly thankful.

With a deep breath, you lower your gaze to the floor and continue. Seeing the disappointment in her eyes is definitely not something you can handle in your already emotional state.

"I turned your show on today and saw the pretty idol you were talking to. I started comparing myself and it all got worse from there." You inform quickly, just wanting to get the words out.

She sets her jaw, clenching and releasing the muscles repeatedly as she decides on how best to respond.

"Did you use the technique we talked about?" She asks gently, releasing the question with care.

"I tried, but it didn't work this time." A single tear rolls down your cheek, and you swipe it away before Jisoo can even notice it.

You feel like you're failing her by giving into your worries, but they're incessant. They fight for your attention, completely overruling any "happy thought" that you might have previously hoped would be capable of mitigating your fears. You're disappointed in yourself, but since when is that a new thing?

"She's an idol, Jisoo. She can relate to you in ways I'll never be able to."

"You think I'd throw away 4 years with you to be with someone I barely know, because we can relate?"

She voices your fears in such a way that you instantly feel foolish for believing them. Nevertheless, you persist.

"She's everything I'm not."

"And that's precisely why you never have to worry."

With furrowed brows, you tilt your head and look at Jisoo: her statement confuses you.

"No one else even comes close to you, baby. You're what I want. You're who I want. Every little thing that makes you who you are is a reason I love you."

Your heart beats harder at her words, taken aback by how genuine they sound. She's saying all the things you need to hear, but it feels too good to be true.

"Loving me is exhausting; I don't see why you keep doing it. You should be with someone who doesn't need coddling… who isn't broken like me. We go in circles, Jisoo. I always go back to giving into my fears."

She lets out a disbelieving scoff, soft in its volume as she says, "If I wanted to leave, I would've. You've given me more than enough chances to go, and still I have yet to find a reason to. I'm not perfect either, Y/N. You act like everyone else is so high above you, but we're really all just dealing with our own baggage."

"I have enough of that for 10 people." The phrase is pointed and self depreciating, and Jisoo can't take it any longer.

"Stop. Look at me, baby." She finally breathes out, hooking her fingers underneath your chin and raising your head.

"Whether or not you think I'm making a mistake, I'm always gonna choose you. My life isn't complete without you in it; our stories became intertwined the day we met."

Her cheek briefly tugs up in a lopsided smile at the memory of your first meeting.

"I'm just scared, Jisoo. Do you know how many times people have told me they'd stay, just to leave the moment they found someone better? I know I'm not easy to love; I know it's difficult. I just can't imagine what I'd do without you. You've made me feel emotions I never even knew existed."

You're more honest with Jisoo than anyone else, and being so vulnerable scares you. Nevertheless, it feels good to open up sometimes.

"You'll never have to find out what that's like, because I'm never leaving. Do you understand how in love with you I am? I don't think you do."

You slip your chin out of her hold again, still disappointed in yourself. The action hurts her more than you know, and you miss the way her face contorts into a sad frown.

"When I roll over in the morning and see your face on that pillow, I don't know what to do with myself. When I'm holding you and Dalgom cuddles in between us, it's like I see a glimpse into my future. When you smile at me it's like I can finally breathe again. My home is with you; please don't ever doubt that. You're my world."

And then, you hear it. The noise that very rarely ever comes from your girlfriend. A sniffle.

Your eyes shoot up to hers in an instant, searching through her deep pools as you step forward to cradle her face in your hands. She tries to turn away, already upset with herself -- she knows you'll blame yourself for her tears.

Jisoo only cries in front of you when she's frustrated or deeply moved, and sometimes when she's scared. As you run a thumb along her cheek, you attempt to figure out her reasoning for it this time.

Once she eventually accepts that you aren't letting her get away, she leans into your touch.

"I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. You sell yourself so short. The fact that you think you're anything less than incredible devastates me. You're amazing in every capacity… and so, so beautiful."

Her voice wavers, taut with the emotions she's still reeling from. She says the words so assuredly that you begin to give in and believe them. She makes them sound like simple facts; common knowledge to any and everyone. On top of that, you're pained beyond belief that anything of your doing makes her this sad. She deserves to be smiling constantly, so hard her cheeks hurt and her belly aches from laughing.

"I'll never be able to see myself like you do, Jisoo, but I'm willing to work on it. You've already helped me more than you'll ever know, and I've come pretty far. Sometimes I just can't keep the thoughts at bay."

She nods, moving the hand that previously rested on your hip to hold your wrist. She strokes the skin gently, leaning further into your touch as her eyes soften with understanding.

"I love you. Thank you for dealing with me." You utter, leaning forward to rest your forehead against hers. She sighs at your words, rubbing a comforting circle on your back.

"Thank you for letting me in, jagi. Saranghae."

Your lips move to meet hers now, halfway, both of you needing to feel each other. It's slow and meaningful; she takes her time with it, treating it just like she does your heart. You tilt her head to deepen the kiss, noting the warmth that her cheeks still radiate as you trail your fingers over her skin.

A subtle shiver courses through her at your ministrations, drawing a smile from you. You'll never get tired of kissing her; of having her wrapped in your arms, so close to you. Vulnerable moments like these remind you of how different she is from everyone else. She's your everything and then some, and she needs you as much as you need her.

A bit impatient now, Jisoo tugs at your bottom lip, silently asking for more. You tap her thighs before looping your hands underneath them, swiftly lifting her onto the kitchen counter. The thin material of her skirt sits a little higher up on her legs now, having ridden up as you moved her.

She hooks her legs around you as you move to stand in between them, preventing her from falling and keeping her as close as possible. You break the kiss to study her for a moment, lazily running your fingers along the newly exposed skin of her thighs. Her hair is on its way to being mussed, the curls from her earlier performance now coming undone.

Her tongue darts out of her mouth to moisten her lips as she drinks in the sight of you. The top 2 buttons of your blouse are open, allowing her eyes to gaze at your chest wantonly.

She trails a hand up your body, teasing you before she grips your collar and yanks you forward.

Your lips meet again but this kiss holds something different than before: it's passionate, full of need. She adjusts her posture so that her body is flush against you, enabling you to feel how hard her heart is beating. No one else is capable of making her feel this way, and she's determined to remind you of that.

You bite her bottom lip before smoothing your tongue over it to soothe any ache your actions might've caused. The act is welcomed by Jisoo, proven by the groan that vibrates in her throat. Her hands tangle in your hair as you lower your head to her neck, pressing your lips to the tender skin.

"A-ah, right there," she husks out, her voice deepened with desire. Her wish is your command, and you take your time in leaving a mark there. You continue your assault, leaving a trail of purple-ish bruises in your wake as you move to untouched patches of skin. She knowingly spurs your actions on by moaning into your ear when you bite with just the right amount of pressure, her breath hot on your neck.

You pull away to admire your work, knowing her makeup artist will have a field day with covering up all of your marks. She leans back a bit, slowly swiveling her hips as she uses her ankles to pull you closer.

Her movements fuel the heat pooling between your legs, and you don't even attempt to stop the moan that leaves you. She knows you so well; she knows exactly what gets you going, just what to do and say.

"Come here," you command, securing her legs around your waist as you lift her off of the counter. Her lips find yours again, keeping them occupied as you walk towards the couch -- trekking up to the bedroom would take far too long.

"Tell me what you want, baby." You say, laying her down on the plush cushions. She pulls you against herself again, smiling at the feeling of your hips pressed into her. At first, she defies you, opting to push her lips against yours instead of answering your question. You know what to do to make her talk, though. Slyly, you pull away, barely ghosting your lips over hers. It's just enough contact to make her want more, but not enough to satisfy her.

With a press of your thigh to her center, she's already bucking her hips up into you, reaching up to reclaim your lips. She whines as you pull further away, not allowing her to kiss you until she gives you an answer.

"Use your words, Jisoo." You add your hand into the mix of things driving her crazy as you trail it down her body, allowing your fingers to sneak under the hem of her shirt and skim over her abdomen.

She looks at you defiantly, causing you to quirk an eyebrow. Challenging you, is she? Two can play at that game.

You apply more pressure to her core, allowing her to take pleasure in two more strong strokes against your thigh before pulling away completely.

"Fuck- no. Y/N…" she pleads, reaching for you again. She's really getting worked up now.

A smirk crosses your lips at her desperation, and you almost have to stifle a chuckle. She knows you're stubborn, and denying herself release seems idiotic when all she has to do is listen to you. So, she gives in.

"I want your mouth; your fingers. All of you."

Your cocky persona falters a bit at her words and you feel the blood rushing through your veins at the way she said them. Her voice was raw with lust, dripping with desire as she eyed you.

"Was that so hard, baby?" You tease, resuming your previous movements with a smirk.

"Shut up and kiss me." She huffs out, half annoyed and half amused.

"Yes ma'am." You press your lips to hers and get started on meeting her demands.

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writer-k-pop · 3 years

Text

I Would

왜나하면 나는 우리의 모든 데이트가 우리 둘 모두에게 행복하고 즐거운 시간이 되길 원하기 때뭉이야. Because I want our every date to be a happy and fun time for both of us.

Description: During a live TV interview, Jeonghan is faced with a comment from a particularly problematic host. With the need to defend himself and you, you watched for the first time as Jeonghan sternly, and slightly angered, puts someone in their place during a live show. Warnings: Swearing Genre: Angst, Fluff ending, Idol!Jeonghan x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2.6k

Seventeen Masterlist | Masterlists

You brought your knees up to your chest, attention focused on the TV where a live broadcast of your boyfriend, Jeonghan, and his group mates, Seventeen, was airing. Jeonghan was always super excited to do any show but this show had him, and the entire group for that matter, on edge.

The reason being that one of the hosts was a very questionable person. The host, Jack, made comments that made many of the public feel uncomfortable and even with all the outcry, he was still appearing on TV. The night before as I sat with the members, talking and trying to relax for the night, the boys couldn't stop worrying about how they were going to handle any concerning comments that came from that particular host. Seungcheol and Jeonghan were trying their best to give words of encouragement and disperse the worry but you could tell Jeonghan's mind was running a 100 miles per hour with the same worry as the other members.

They finished with their introduction segment and moved onto the first topic. During the entirety, you tried to focus on what was being said but all you could really focus on was Jeonghan. The other members had taken Seungcheol and Jeonghan's advice to just do the interview as normal and for the most part, Seungcheol looked like he had also taken his advice. But Jeonghan was a different story.

He sat between Jun and Dino but you could tell his mind was analyzing every word coming out of every mouth in preparation to combat any wrong comment. Jeonghan was physically there but mentally fighting a war that hadn't even happened yet.

You pouted in concern but that was all you could do. The broadcast was live. All you could do was sit and watch and hope that the rest of the broadcast went without a hitch.

But of course, your hope was soon crushed.

It was the third and final segment called 'I Adore.' You knew about this segment because the some of the members had asked your opinion on if their items were 'okay' as an item/hobby/thing they adored. And because Jeonghan had asked your permission to use a picture of the two of you. You didn't care, the public already knew about your relationship. One more picture wouldn't hurt.

The members went through their 'I Adore' stories one by one and somehow Jeonghan was picked to go last. Probably because of the picture.

A picture of you and Jeonghan out on a date a few weeks ago pops up on the screen and the two other non-problematic hosts, Hangyeol and Kwangho, cooed at the picture.

"Would you like to explain, Jeonghan?" Hangyeol gestured towards Jeonghan.

You watched as he pulled himself out of his war with a deep breath.

"Yes, well, I adore (y/n)." Jeonghan leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. "I adore her a lot but I couldn't bring her here so I brought a picture instead."

"This is a good alternative." Kwangho commented, "When was this taken?"

"A couple weeks ago." Jeonghan answered right away, "We were out on a shopping date looking for Dino's birthday gift, I think. She was feeling cute so we took a lot of pictures."

"They took so many pictures." Dokyeom agreed, "Like hundreds and hundreds." He exaggerated.

You rolled your eyes and smiled at his antics. The hosts and the members laugh.

"So why did you pick her for this segment?" Hangyeol asked, glancing down at his cue cards.

"Ever since we started dating, she is always supporting and encouraging me. And just when I think I know all of her little ticks, she surprises me with another one." Jeonghan explained and your heart fluttered. "(y/n)'s really cool and she always knows what I'm thinking and it's nice having someone to talk to like that."

"Ah, you must really love her." Kwangho nodded, "I can see it in your face."

Jeonghan smiled widely and blushed.

"He does." Dino agreed with the host. "Sometimes he'll ditch us to go see her."

"But wouldn't you if you had that kind of girl by your side?" Hangyeol defended Jeonghan.

"How long have you been dating?" Jack, the problematic host, questioned which made your breath hitch. The members also went silent for a second and a nervous glance was thrown between them.

"Uh, about a year or so now." Jeonghan answered confidently.

Jack nodded and let the other hosts continue. You breathed a sigh of relief with that hurdle passed.

"Actually, that's not the only picture we have of you two." Hangyeol said sheepishly.

Jeonghan looked at the hosts with a questioning look.

"We found some pictures on Twitter capturing you on your date." Hangyeol explained and a few pictures popped up on the screen.

They were of the same date but from farther away and a little later into the date after some shopping had been done.

"Fans must've taken them." You muttered to yourself not bothered as it happens sometimes.

They pull up one and focus on it. You're walking backwards talking to Jeonghan while he holds the couple of shopping bags and your bright pastel purse. You smile remembering the day with fondness.

"What's going on in this one?" Kwangho asked with genuine interest.

"Ah," Jeonghan lifts his head in remembrance of the moment, "We were leaving the shopping center and she was talking about something that I completely forget now. But I do remember having to yell at her millions of times because she was about to run into something or someone." He chuckled.

"Wait a minute," Jack chirped up and the nervous glances returned. "You said you were getting a gift for Dino, why do you have so many bags?"

Jeonghan sat up straighter, "One of the bags was Dino's gift, one was a shirt that (y/n) said I would look good in, and the other is her purse."

"Woah, he even carries her purse!" Kwangho cooed to Hangyeol in admiration of Jeonghan's act.

"Yah, he such a cool guy." Hangyeol agreed.

"He does that all the time." Seungcheol added on.

"Honestly, he's a really great boyfriend." Mingyu commented and Jeonghan hid his face in embarrassment.

"Ah, stop." Jeonghan whined and his members chuckle, Dino even patted his shoulder.

Across the interview table, Jack lowered his head and muttered something meant to go unheard. But Jeonghan's super sonic hearing heard him and he immediately snapped his head up, staring hard Jack.

"What did you say?" Jeonghan asked, his tone causing confusion between the members.

"I didn't-"

"No, please say it." Jeonghan cut Jack off and gestures for him to continue, "You said it for a reason."

Jack'glances around the studio and towards his fellow hosts for support, but they offer him none. Hangyeol and Kwangho, having heard his comment, were finally done putting up with his attitude.

"I just think that she should be able to carry her own purse. Why do you have to carry it when she obviously has her own arms." Jack shrugged nonchalantly.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes at his misguided opinion. From the TV, a few members also scoff while others lean back and cross their arms with stares as sharp as knives.

"I would carry her purse even if she had 8 arms and I had none." Jeonghan said in a slightly tensed tone. "Because I love her."

A feeling of 'yeah, you show him' was soon followed by a gut punch realization that Jeonghan just said that he loves you for the first time on TV. Ever.

"Still I don't get why she would make you carry all the bags and her purse." Jack continued his warped train of thought.

Jeonghan shook his head, "I told her to give me the bags. She actually didn't want me to carry them but I insisted."

"You shouldn't have given in then." Jack scoffed, crossed his arms, and leaned back in his chair. "You can't be that weak."

At this comment, you sat up and angrily grumbled at the TV.

"Who does he think he's calling weak? How can a person be this awful?" You wondered.

While you grumbled, the members also all leaned forward in anger at Jack's comment and the hosts started to lean away from Jack in an attempt to separate themselves from him. The entire atmosphere of the interview, even through the TV, turned icy in a second. Even as you sat on your couch at home, a shiver ran down your spine.

Jeonghan put a hand on Dino's arm, telling him to sit back down.

"I don't think it was weak." Jeonghan said with a 'you want to mess with me?' look in his eyes. "I think it's very strong of men and people to offer to carry other's things when they care for said person. You see," Jeonghan cleared his throat, "If I didn't take the bags from (y/n), she wouldn't have been able to walk backwards and talk to me so animatedly. Then I wouldn't have been able to smile and laugh at her like I am in the picture." He gestures to the screen where the picture was still up. "Then I wouldn't have been able to enjoy her enjoying herself on our date. And that would've made me disappointed. Because I want our every date to be a happy and fun time for both of us."

Listening to his defense, Jeonghan's words touched your heart and for a split second you forgot your anger and only felt love for the man you get to call yours.

Having been defeated, Jack sat silent in his chair. Kwangho and Hangyeol have successfully moved their chairs away. The other members listened intently and were all nodding their heads in agreement.

"I think we would all do the same." Hangyeol commented, trying to diffuse the tention. He then turned to the other members, "Wouldn't we?"

The other members nodded while Seungcheol actually spoke.

"Without hesitation." He nodded, giving one last glare towards Jack.

"Well, we have run out of time. But thank you for stopping by and giving us your time." Knwagho said to the members. They all nod and give their thanks except for Jeonghan. He was just staring at Jack with a glare as deadly as lasers.

Seungcheol led the group in their exit greeting and Jeonghan barely managed to make the ending bow before the show cuts off.

As commercials ran past the screen, you just sat on the couch, scrolling through posts and comments of the interview. Many expressed anger at the problematic host but a greater number were praising Jeonghan for his eloquent response to such a comment.

And not 10 minutes after the interview ended, a call from Jeonghan lit up your phone.

"HI there." You answered, already forgetting most of the annoyance you had from earlier.

"Hey." Jeonghan replied, his voice sounding tired with a hint of anger around the edges. "What are you doing right now?"

"Me?" You asked, "I'm sitting on the couch scrolling through my phone."

Jeonghan breathed out, "So you watched it, huh?"

"Yeah, I saw it." You said with a nod.

"Ugh, I was really hoping you didn't." Jeonghan muttered.

"Why not?" You wondered. You could see him running a hand through his hair.

"It was just so ridiculous. What he said." Jeonghan groaned.

You chuckled, "Yeah, it was pretty ridiculous but you handled it like an absolute pro." You offered, "Made me extremely proud, too."

"Really?" He asked, his voice perking up slightly.

"Oh totally." You answered, "You put him in his place and made me feel like a princess. I swear I think my heart exploded."

Jeonghan finally laughed and you felt relieved to hear his laughter.

"Where are you?" You asked after a couple seconds.

"In a taxi." He answered.

"Where are you going?" You questioned, "Shouldn't you be with the others going back to the dorm?"

"I should be." Jeonghan said, "But after that interview, I really needed to see you so I sort of ran off."

"Jeonghan!" You scolded him.

"It's fine!" He defended himself, "I told Seungcheol so I didn't entirely ditch without telling anyone."

"Did you even get out of your interview clothes?" You asked, knowing it takes Seventeen ages to get into and out of outfits.

There was a pause before Jeonghan answered.

"...No." His answer made you laugh.

"You're lucky you have clothes here." You told him before moving to the bathroom to retrieve some makeup removing supplies.

"I'm lucky I've got you." He said softly.

"Yes you are lucky you've got me." You joked and Jeonghan chuckled.

"I'll be there in like 20 minutes. Wait for me." He told you.

"I'll be here with makeup remover and open arms." You said before hanging up.

And as he said, 20 minutes later, Jeonghan punched in the lock code and strode into your home, straight into your arms. He rested his chin over your shoulder while squeezing you tightly.

"Hey superhero." You smiled and cuddled into his hug.

"Hey." Jeonghan relaxed and his shoulders sagged from exhaustion.

"Go get changed and then I'll take off your make up for you." You instructed him and he followed without a moment's hesitation.

You sat on the couch, set the make up wipes near your lap, and waited for Jeonghan to come back. After many of his schedules, his make up would be wiped off or he'd be with the members. But on occasion, he'd come to yours, make up on, and you would take off his make up for him. It was one of his favorite things. You often offered when you knew he had a stressful day because it was something that helped him to relax.

After a few minutes, Jeonghan returned out of his interview outfit and in pajamas. He flopped onto the couch and rested his head in you lap, eyes closed, ready for his make up to be removed.

As you wiped away the layers of makeup, his bare face that you loved so much began to show.

"Did you see the comments?" You asked, wiping down his cheek.

"No." Jeonghan said, "The members were blowing up my phone with texts so I had to pay attention to them."

"Well, people are very impressed by you and your comments." You told him, "I'm sure people will be talking about it tomorrow."

"Eh, I just said what needed to be said. That host needed to be put in his place." Jeonghan scrunched up his nose and you wiped that area to soothe out the skin.

"And you did just that." You told him. "So what do you want to do?"

"Lay here forever." Jeonghan answered.

You threw away the makeup wipe and reached for another, "I can do that."

"Forever?" Jeonghan glanced up at you with a questioning look.

"Forever." You smiled and leaned down to give him a kiss.

Happily, Jeonghan snuggled deeper into your lap and you resumed wiping his face.

"Next time bring me." You said absently mindedly.

"And let you be attacked like that? No way." Jeonghan shut down the idea immediately.

"But then you wouldn't have to be in a situation like you were today." You explained, wiping away the last bit of stubborn foundation.

Jeonghan opened his eyes and looked up at you. "(y/n)."

"Jeonghan." You copied his sentence type.

"I would go through that alone on national TV a million times over before I would even consider letting you go through it." Jeonghan told you. "I would go through it again if it meant I got to come home to you."

You smiled at his sincere words, "Then keep coming home to me."

He smiled widely and pulled you down for another kiss, one deeper than the one you had given him. One full of 'I love you's' to last a hundred years. And they all belonged to you and you alone.

#seventeen #seventeen imagine #seventeen jeonghan imagine #yoon jeonghan imagine #jeonghan imagine #yoon jeonghan #jeonghan #seventeen jeonghan

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dontwakeme-causeimdreaming · 4 years

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SPOILERS: The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes

So I know when Suzanne Collins announced she was releasing a prequel to the Hunger Games, there was a lot of backlash that the main character was President Snow. I, for one, thoroughly enjoyed TBOSAS and have a lot of thoughts about it. (Bear with me this will be really long)

1. My first thought: Tigris? Like ~the~ Tigris from Mockingjay? They seem so close what happened between them to make Tigris willing to betray her family to Squad 451... obviously she was fired as a stylist for being too altered, but is there more?

2. I find it interesting that some of the improvements to The Hunger Games were Snow’s idea, like the betting and the providing the tributes food to make a better show

3. It’s absolutely horrible to see that the tributes were treated so inhumanely (Kept in the Monkey House at the zoo, starved, and given a veterinarian rather than doctor) but it’s also haunting to see the desensitization that eventually came along when it became more like a sport than senseless revenge in the Capitol. At least the Capitol children saw the problem in the 10th Games compared to the 74th

4. Reaper apologizing for having to kill the other tributes (188) is such a stark contrast to how Cato and Clove relish in killing when Katniss is in the 74th Games, which shows how well President Snow (or perhaps Dr. Gaul) did his/her job in turning the districts’s enemy into the other districts before the Capitol

5. It’s also interesting how Snow’s tribute (FROM DISTRICT 12) won the games because Snow bent the rules and relied on cleverness much in the way Katniss (obviously also from District 12) won her games

6. I LOVE that Lucy Gray wrote the Hanging Tree it must’ve been so haunting for Snow to hear when the propo of Katniss singing aired

7. The similarities between Lucy Gray and Katniss!!!

-Both have a younger relative they take care of

-Only females victors from 12

-Won by using cunning intelligence (Lucy Gray with the poison, Katniss with the berries)

-Singing the Meadow Song and the Hanging Tree

-Swimming in the lake

-Both consider running off the escape from 12 and survive in the woods

8. Snow defies the capitol (handkerchief in the snake tank) just like Katniss (the nightlock berries) to help win the games

9. “Some people call them swamp potatoes, but I like katniss better. Has a nice ring to it” (436) oh Lucy Gray! I know Katniss is a plant but it’s so fun seeing the name casually mentioned in the prequel not as a heroine but just as an ordinary name. Little does Snow know, a girl named after that plant is going to be his downfall

10. “What if this was his life: rising whenever, catching his food for the day, and hanging out with Lucy Gray by the lake? Who needed wealth and success and power when they had love?” (438) contrasted with “He [Corionlanus] imagined a group of people in wild animal furs scraping out existence in a cave somewhere. He supposed such a thing could happen, but that life would be a big step down from even the districts. Barely human” (395)

-It’s no wonder Coriolanus wants to marry a woman he detests (516) if loving Lucy Gray made him consider living in conditions he called “barely human”

11. I love Snow’s disdain for the mockingjays obviously because Katniss becomes ~the Mockingjay~, but I also love how Snow hates them because they represent a failure to the capitol, an “unauthorized co-opting [of] Capitol technology” (439), showing that the Capitol is not as necessary as they would believe (which Katniss as the Mockingjay emphasizes in the future when she dismantled the Capitol)

-“Coriolanus felt sure he’d just spotted his first mockingjay, and he disliked the thing on sight” (352)

-“He [Coriolanus] didn’t mind the jabberjays so much — they seemed rather interesting from a military standpoint— but something about the mockingjays repelled him” (417)

12. Do you think Sejanus knew that Snow betrayed him when he mouths Coryo? (470) For his sake, I hope he didn’t so that he could die feeling as though he still had a best friend rather than add more sorrow to his death

13. “Was the goal of survival further survival and nothing more?” (495) —> “but at least he would ensure survival for survival’s sake” (516)

-This reminds me of Gale’s rants in the woods when he and Katniss are hunting, how they’re surviving but not living, and that it’s a cause for rebellion and uprising

-It’s interesting to see Snow’s mindset change, from when he considered survival as the only virtue in his life when he and Lucy Gray were about to run off compared to when he decides he is capable of becoming the president and ensuring survival

-When Snow decides to ensure survival, it seems more as though ensuring the survival of the oppression to maintain his power rather than save humanity, as he claims. He, too, had scorned the idea of surviving to survive earlier (495), so why should he want the people in the districts to survive just to survive? Certainly not for humanity

14. Even the person who created The Hunger Games — Dean Highbottom — thinks they’re awful (515)

15. “Snow had been the ruination of them both” (516)

-Even though Snow doesn’t know what happened to Lucy Gray that day in the woods, I would assume she died because in the Hunger Games novel, “Then he reads the list of past District 12 victors. In seventy-four years, we have had only two. Only one is still alive” (THG, 19). Obviously the victor still alive is Haymitch.

-Although, perhaps she starved because music became outlawed with the arrival of the new mayor.

-I find it interesting that District 12 even knew there was more than one victor seeing as Dr. Gaul destroyed all evidence of the 10th Games.

16. Snow hates the idea of women selling their bodies in exchange for things they need to survive, as he sees it as losing all dignity, (like when he feels disgust at the line in Lucy Gray’s song from her interview on page 175), but then he makes the victors sell themselves once he’s president

17. It’s interesting to see the effect that Dr. Gaul has on Snow, because obviously her teaching is what made Coriolanus’s mindset change

-He calls her a lunatic (114) and agrees with Tigris when she calls Dr. Gaul sadistic (125) and felt horrified at the way Marcus’s body was displayed once caught (206), but he still says that he’ll continue the Hunger Games when he’s the president (516)

-He felt guilty murdering Bobbin (248), but in his reign as the president he was responsible for hundreds of deaths (which he never denied but did not seem to feel guilty for either in Mockingjay)

18. President Snow is known to poison his enemies to maintain his control, so I liked seeing him poison his first victim — Dean Highbottom — with rat poison (517).

#the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas spoilers #tbosas #coriolanus snow #thg #The Hunger Games #suzanne collins #tigris #sejanus plinth #dr. gaul #lucy gray #lucy gray baird #district 12 #katniss everdeen #gale hawthorne #haymitch abernathy #mockingjay

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dreadpoetssociety · 4 years

Text

I Just Want My Brother

TW: Kidnapping, Abuse, Death, Drugs, Mentions of blood.

Prompt: hi! i loved ur reid x sis!reader!! i was wondering if u could do one with reid x teen sis!reader and maybe she was a witness to something or got kidnapped and survived or something so they have to give her a cognitive interview and she refuses to do it unless spence is there or the one asking her the questions

Note: I really liked this request. I feel like I may have gotten off topic a littttttttle bit, but I tried my best! Also, sorry for any grammatical mistakes!

()()()()()()

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Sister!Reader

Word Count: 3589

You were never really one to defy your elder brother’s rules, given how lenient he was with you, but it was supposed to just be one fun night out with your friends. The night scene that your friends adored was never really your cup of tea due to the horror stories Spencer would come home with. Girls getting kidnapped going on a run, girls being drugged and killed at a party, girls just going missing off the streets never to be found until it was too late, things like that. After a while, he slowly stopped giving you the gory details when he’d noticed the actual effect it had on your own life, whether or not you chose to acknowledge that when begging him to tell you more, but not knowing what was out there did scare you. Especially after stealing one of Spence’s files and looking at the photos that it held.

But, you were feeling daring on this particular night. Your friends finally convinced you to sneak out of the house. Spencer wouldn’t be back from his current job until morning, and even if you did get caught, you were generally a good kid. You bent the rules from time to time, but most high-schoolers you knew were sneaking out regularly, skipping class, doing hard drugs and even getting arrested from time to time. How bad could you be? At least, that was the reasoning your friends put into your head.

So, you thought hey, if you ever have kids, mind as well at least have one cool story to tell them. You didn’t even bother to go through the apartment window, you just walked out the door and met your friends out on the street. It was nearly midnight, but the night had just begun.

It was hours of going to this person’s house and that person’s apartment, stopping by a random party and making noise in the streets, until finally, your friends made it to a bar.

“You know,” you laughed a little anxiously, “maybe we shouldn’t. I mean I don’t even have a way of getting in there.”

“Y/N, chill. I know your brother freaks you into obeying the rules, but those things he sees have like a .0001% of actually happening. Like what are the chances really?” your friend, Elliot, smiled at you.

“Actually, about one out of 300,000 people get kidnapped, which doesn’t seem like a lot, but the actual percentage is-“

“Y/N, we’re fine! Kids do this all the time. Plus, I already paid that Barry kid to make you a fake. Consider it an early birthday gift.” your other friend, Sheila, pulled out her purse and passed you the piece of plastic. Although incredibly concerned, you were impressed by how realistic it was. You sighed.

“Fine, you’re right.” you laughed, “But there’s no way I’m convincing that bouncer that I’m 21.”

“Confidence is key. Just stroll past him like you know what you’re doing. If you look nervous they’ll know. I swear, Y/N, those dudes can smell fear.” Elliot laughed. The three of you made your way to said club entrance, and although the bouncer did seem suspicious of you, he just let you in anyway.

The club was loud, there was a band on stage and lasers going throughout the room. Alice and Elliot didn’t hesitate to drag you to the bar first. You’d drank a little before, but you’d never gotten buzzed, let alone completely drunk. It wasn’t really your style, and thankfully, Elliot and Alice respected that. They pressured you to do a lot of things, but not anything like drugs or alcohol. They merely pushed you out of your comfort zone sometimes, and irregardless of whether or not the adults around you thought they were a good influence didn’t matter to you.

“We’re going to go dance, but we’ll be nearby if you don’t want to join us! Just make sure not to go too far alone, Y/N” Alice stated, knowing you would absolutely not agree to dance with them. You smiled and nodded and the two went off to do their thing within your sight.

“What can I get you, young lady?” the man at the bar caught you off guard.

“Oh, uh, maybe just a glass of water?”

“Ah, designated driver I presume?” he laughed.

“Yeah, something like that.” you replied, “Someone’s gotta keep an eye on those two.” you nudged your head towards your two friends who were living it up with some other people in the crowd who you think might’ve been your age, too. You were sort of surprised at how easy it was to get into this club, considering so many of your peers get thrown out of it or get caught.

The man passed you the water and walked off almost a bit angrily. Understandably, though, because water is free. You made a note to leave the man a tip later anyway. It was the least you could do. You played with the straw, took a few sips, and watched as your friends danced the night away.

After a while, though, you began to feel off. Dizzy even, and you couldn’t think clearly. It was a hot summer night in a hot crowded club, the one cup of water you drank all day was right in front of you, so you figured it was the heat. You decided to take a quick trip outside to try and catch some air.

It was when you left the club that it really hit you. The world was turning, and you were barely able to stay awake.

The club was located in an area that wasn’t super lit other than the one club sign. The bouncers must’ve been in the midst of switching shifts because there wasn’t one outside.

“Hey young lady, you okay?” a man’s voice was all you could make out of him. You could see him, but you couldn’t, and it didn’t make sense. Someone grabbed you and the world went dark.

()()()()()()

You woke up slowly. You didn’t recognize your surroundings, the walls were concrete and disgusting. The room reeked of something.

You tried to stand, but something was holding you to the floor. Having looked down, you noticed sort chains attached to both wrists. Your heart sped up, but you didn’t scream.

How the hell. . . you thought. How did they get me here?

The last thing you could really remember was the water. What was in the water? It was too slow to be ketamine, too fast to be rohypnol. You wondered. Oh my god, gamma hydroxybutyric acid. Or cherry meth.

You heard someone make a noise and instantly forgot about the debate in your head. Being able to think more clearly, and your eyesight less blurred, you began to take in your surroundings. There were windows in two two of the walls without glass. Taking a look, you noticed three other women in you line of sight. One in the room with you, who was starting to wake up, and two through the left and right windows. Straight ahead was a doorway that showed a room with a table on in the middle.

It was then that you really began to understand what was happening. The exact thing you were afraid of this whole time. Your breath sped up, your heart was nearly coming out of your body, your blood ran cold.

“Hey,” the girl was awake now, “I’m Charlotte.” you looked at her wide eyed. Here you two were, chained against a wall, she was bruised and bloodied up and down, and she decided that it was appropriate to introduce herself?

“What’s happening?” you didn’t even think to reply back to her. She could be anyone. She could be the person who took you, acting as your friend. Your paranoid mind raced through multiple scenarios.

“Look, you’ll be fine as long as you listen.”

“Listen? Listen to what? To who? Who took us? What are they-“

“You need to calm down.” she whispered, “If they hear you they’ll come. They haven’t been so nice to the noisy ones.”

If anything anybody had never shut you up before, that certainly did. You could feel the fear in every nerve of your body. he other girls around you faced the floor. One was in a party dress, the other in a pan suit. Looking at them, the girls had nothing in common. One had dark hair, the other had her hair dyed a faded blue, and the last was blonde, each with a different eye color and skin tone. You tried your best to think like your brother, but you couldn’t. Unlike him, you weren’t a genius, you were just average.

You heard a door creek open and all the girls instantly looked up. Through the doorway of your room, you saw a masked man walk in. You could almost hear the other girls’ hearts pumping. You watched in terror as he began to step towards you. When he got into the room, though, he turned towards Charlotte, and began unchaining her.

“No, please!” she cried, “Please, I’m sorry.”

“Shut up.”

Charlotte went quiet. He aggressively picked her up by her arm and dragged her to the table, of which he pinned her down onto and began to strap her in. It wasn’t long before he opened a cabinet out of your view, and pulled out various rusty tools.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” you asked. You didn’t even think out what you were doing. What the hell do you think YOU’RE doing, Y/N? you thought to yourself. Unconsciously, you knew that you can’t profile this guy like Spencer could, you couldn’t talk your way out of this, but you could protect the girls around you. How? By pissing him off.

“Don’t speak, woman.” he growled.

“What are you going to do about it? Kill me?” he slammed a knife-like tool straight down into the table a millimeter next to Charlotte’s abdomen, “What? Did I hurt your masculinity, big boy?”

He unstrapped her quickly. You figured what was coming for you next, and it wasn’t long before you were on that table. The leather restraints were on way too tight, there were splinters in your back already from the poorly sanded wooden table, which you figured was on purpose. And all you could do was watch, and scream, as this man did whatever he wanted to you. hitting you, cutting you, seemingly testing out tools you’d never even seen before. The camera on the ceiling told you that he was recording this all to watch later.

And all you could do was scream out your brother’s name.

()()()()()()

You didn’t know how long you were there. Hours, days, weeks, you had no idea. Time didn’t exist down there. Ever since your first encounter with the man, you tried to deter him from the other women around you any time he came around. And fortunately for them but not for you, it worked.

All of the pain and screaming left you numb, but it wasn’t until you saw him get angrier with one of the other girls that you weren’t able to comprehend your situation anymore.

She hadn’t been doing well, the one in the party dress. The color in her skin was drained, making her paler, her eyes sunk. And you watched as the man pulled a knife from his pocket, and stuck it right through her heart. The screams from you and the girls flooded the room, and it was like the air in the building was being sucked out.

You would never forget it.

()()()()()()

You were asleep when suddenly you heard the door open again and your body began to shake. But it wasn’t the man who came in.

“Reid! I got her!” the sound of Morgan’s voice echoed in your ears. Spencer burst into the room, and while Morgan Prentiss, JJ, and Rossi tended to the other three girls, Reid and Hotch came straight to you.

“Y/N? Oh my god, Y/N, you’re going to be okay. We’re going to get you out of here.” Spencer panicked as he tugged at the chains, “Come on!”

“Y/N, do you know where the unsub went?” Hotch asked. You looked at him, you understood his words, but all you could manage to say was,

“Liquid cherry.”

“Y/N?”

“No, cherry E.” you were so distorted, either from the pain, or from the shock.

“Y/N I don’t understand.” Hotch said.

“Liquid cherry?” Reid repeated, “Y/N, do you mean Liquid E?” you nodded.

“Cherry meth.” Hotch confirmed. You don’t even know why you brought it up. It wasn’t important, and although that’s what the man used on you, it wasn’t even relevant at this point.

The rest was a blur. Being free had a different meaning to it for you then. But yet, you were brought into an interrogation room after the ambulance had deemed that you didn’t have any truly hospitalizing injuries, just horrible bruises along with scars that would probably never fade away. You looked down at the table.

Emily Prentiss and JJ sat on the other end of the table.

“Y/N, we know you’ve been through something traumatic, but that man is still out there. The other two girls aren’t conscious, and you’re the only one who knows what he looks like.” Prentiss explained, “You might not remember, but we if you’re able, we want to do a cognitive interview with you. It might help you remember details you didn’t know you picked up on.”

“I don’t want to be here alone.” you whispered. JJ sighed sadly for you, “I don’t want to do it unless it’s Spencer.”

“I know, Y/N, but your brother is personally involved now. He can’t work on this case.” she said. In your heart you knew why, and you understood completely. But your mind just didn’t follow, and you shook your head. You looked up, and the color of the room and placement of the mirror seemed to eerily familiar, and the scene switched.

There you were, back on that concrete floor, screaming out for Spencer. All you wanted was for your brother to come save you. You saw the man walking towards you. You screamed louder as he got closer.

You felt someones hands on your shoulders and the scene had changed again. You were breathing heavily, the interrogation chair was on its back, and you were in the corner of the room. Emily and JJ were crouched with concerning eyes in front of you.

“Y/N? It’s us.”

“I can’t do it.” you sobbed, “Not without him. I won’t.”

Emily and JJ looked at each other and nodded. Emily walked out of the room while JJ sat on the floor with you.

“You’re safe now.”

“He’s still out there he’s not going to stop.” you whispered, “I just want my brother. I just want Spencer.”

She held you tight.

“We won’t let anything happen to you. Spence won’t let anything happen to you.” she reassured.

It wasn’t long after that Spencer finally entered the room and signaled that it was okay for JJ to leave.

“Y/N,” his voice was soft, and you instantly felt safer in the presence of your brother, “are you sure you can do this?” you nodded in response. As much as it terrified you, you didn’t want that monster hurting any other girls. He was still out there somewhere. Spence helped you up and fixed your chair. You sat across from each other.

“Y/N, I need you to close your eyes.” he said. You did so, “Now think. What’s the weather like before you met the unsub? Was it cloudy, light, dark?”

“It was night. The sky was so clear.” you replied, imagining the time in your mind.

“You’re going out. Who are you with?” he asked.

“Alice and Elliot. Spencer, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have broken the rules.” you cried. Spencer hadn’t even considered the thought of you sneaking out until now, but had decided that it was a talk for another time, if he thought you’d ever be able to handle it.

“Don’t worry about it, Y/N. I’m just glad you’re safe.” he said. With your eyes closed, you couldn’t see the tears pricking your brother’s eyes. He’d seen many tragic things, done some of the most gruesome cognitive interviews, seen the most disgusting and vile actions done by the most heartless of monsters, but none of that beat this. His own sister. He’d watched the tapes that the man had recorded , and his heart sunk every time you screamed out his name, but his anger grew just as much, “Where did you guys go right before you met the unsub?”

“The club on 16th street.” you stated, seeing yourself and your friends right outside the doors, “Alice and Elliot convinced me to go in.”

“What are you doing in there?”

“Alice and Elliot went to dance. I don’t like dancing, so they stay near me while I sit at the bar?” you realized that you talked as if you were presently there.

“Who is around you? Anyone you recognize?” he asked.

“No, I’m alone with the bartender.”

“Is he talking to you?” Spencer questioned. It was then that you recognized something.

“What can I get you, YOUNG LADY?” the bartender’s voice echoed in your mind, and aligned with the man who asked if you were okay outside before you were taken. You realized that the size and stature of the man who had tortured you matched with the bartender. You gasped and opened your eyes quickly. You were visibly distraught, so Spencer grabbed your hand in a quick attempt to comfort you.

“Y/N, are you okay? If it’s too much we can-“

“The bartender, Spencer.” you huffed out, “He said something to me and spoke to me outside after I was drugged.”

“Do you know what he looks like? Or his name?” he asked. Your thoughts were so fragmented now that you couldn’t remember, and a few tears slipped down your face as shook your head, “Do you want to try to keep going? You don’t have to Y/N I don’t want to put you through this again.”

“No!” you yelled, “No, it’s okay. It’s important. I can do this as long as you’re here.” He smiled slightly at how much you trusted him, but it quickly faded.

“The bartender,” he started, “He’s talking with you, what’s he saying?”

“He asks me if I want a drink. Calls me ‘young lady.’” you replied, as you saw yourself seated at the bar. The man just looked like a blur to you, and you tried so hard to remember him.

“What’s around him?” Spencer asked.

“Well drinks, obviously. Alcohol.”

“What kind?”

“He’s got all kinds of fancy bottles. Jim Beam, Captain Morgan, Patron, Bacardi,” you paused, “The Smirnoff is the same color as his shirt. A red shirt as a bartender. He stands out in an odd way.”

“His shirt, is he wearing anything? A name tag?”

“He has a lanyard. It’s got pins on it and a picture with his-“ you see his name in big black letters on the end of the lanyard, “Andrew Vaughn. The drug is started to hit me now Spencer I-“

“Hey,” his voice was soft as he quickly got up and hugged you, “you’re safe now. I’ve got you.”

“I’m so sorry!” you sobbed into his shirt, grabbing onto him. He put his head on yours.

“It’s not you’re fault Y/N. You’ve been through something traumatic, you can’t be sorry for it.” he said.

“If I hadn’t gone out like you told me, Spence! And those other girls. The one in the party dress! I watched her die! He just stabbed her and she bled out in agony, Spencer!” you nearly yelled. You almost couldn’t breathe, and your face was wet with the tears.

Spencer’s heart dropped to the pit of his stomach. Reid knew some what of what you were going through. He reminded himself of what it was like when Tobias Hankel, and tried to think of how he wanted people to treat him then when he was freed, and how long it took for him to be okay again. He never really was, and he was afraid that you would never be able to feel safe again, but understood why you wouldn’t. He just wanted to take care of you, and blamed himself for not being there.

Within the next few hours, Hotch had refused to let a very angry Spencer go with the team to the unsub’s house. The BAU, although, successfully brought your kidnapper into custody.

“You don’t have to worry now, Y/N” Morgan said to you, “We’re gonna make sure he never sees the light of day again. He’ll live the rest of his life behind those bars.”

“Yeah.” was all you managed to say with the slightest smile as you walked through whatever precinct you were in.

“Y/N, Garcia told me to tell you that if you ever need anything, she’s here. I think the same goes for the rest of us.” Rossi explained.

“Thanks. I owe you all everything.” you said.

“Let’s get you home.” Spencer put his hand on your shoulder, careful not to touch any of your injuries, and the two of you walked out together.

You would never be the same after that, but at least you had your brother by your side.

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