#the daddy issues are strong with this one | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

stylesispunk · 2 days

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"But daddy I love him"

ceo!Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: you made up a lie involving joel for the sake of both your companies. What would come out from all of this?

wc: 3k.

warnings: age gap and grammar mistakes because I didn't check my writing.

a/n: this is the mess that comes from my mind after a week of migraines and being sick. The idea is corny and stupid but I had fun and I know the rest is going to be fun too, so I hope you like it. (please read before I regretted it and delete) Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. Happy reading 💌

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

You sat at the head of the sleek conference table, your fingers drumming lightly against the polished surface. The room buzzed with a low hum of voice as the team discussed the latest financial reports and projections. Your mind, however, was elsewhere, focused on the challenge that lay ahead.

The company your father had built from the ground up was now facing unprecedented challenges. Competitors were closing in, and technological advancements were outpacing their current capabilities. Despite their best efforts, it was becoming clear that you needed a strategic partnership to stay afloat.

“Okay, what do you think?" John, the CFO, interrupted your thoughts.

You straightened in your chair, pushing a strand of auburn hair behind your ear. "I think we need to consider all options," you replied firmly. "Including a merger."

The room fell silent. Your suggestion hung in the air, heavy with implications. Everyone knew who you were referring to—Miller Enterprises, your fiercest rival.

"But your father..." John began, hesitating.

You raised a hand to silence him. "I know my father has strong feelings about Joel Miller. But we have to look at this objectively. Our future depends on it."

You could see the doubt in their eyes and the unspoken questions. How could they convince your father, a man known for his stubbornness and pride, to collaborate with the one person he despised the most?

The tension in the room was palpable as the team exchanged uneasy glances. You could almost hear the gears turning in their minds, trying to process the audacity of your proposal. The silence stretched on, heavy and suffocating, until finally, John spoke up again.

He called you by your first name to emphasize the gravity of the situation: "Do you really think there's any chance your father would agree to this? Joel Miller is his sworn enemy. They've been at each other's throats for years."

You nodded, taking a deep breath. "I know it's a long shot. I think their beef is stupid. I mean, my father hates Joel, and whatever the issue, they shouldn’t have passed it on to his son. And we have to at least try. If we don't, Carter Industries might not survive the next year."

Another voice chimed in, this time from Samantha, the head of marketing. "And what about Joel? Even if your father agrees, will Joel go along with it?"

"That's what I intend to find out," you said resolutely. "I'll speak to him tonight at the tech conference. We need to at least open a dialogue."

The room gradually filled with murmurs of reluctant agreement. The plan was risky, but it was the only viable option. The meeting concluded with cautious optimism, and you returned to your office to prepare for the evening.

Later that evening, you attended a tech conference at the Grand Hilton Hotel. The ballroom was filled with industry leaders, investors, and innovators, all mingling under the glittering chandeliers. You moved through the crowd with practiced ease, exchanging pleasantries and making mental notes of potential allies.

As you reached the bar, you spotted a familiar figure—Joel Miller. Tall, with a commanding presence and sharp features, Joel was in deep conversation with a group of executives. His eyes met yours briefly, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of surprise before his usual confident expression returned.

You couldn’t lie and say that the man hadn’t caught your attention; since the first time you saw him, you developed a crush on him, looking from afar at how he had been able to save his father’s company after he got sick, which was something you truly admired from him. However, the man seemed to be despicable, only showing cold behavior in front of others and in front of you; after all, you were the daughter of the man, whom he hated the most, and you had to pay for the sins of old men.

With twelve years ahead of you, Joel never took anything you did seriously. For him, you were the spoiled little brat daughter of his enemy.

Your name came out of his lips in such a sultry voice that your back arched. You turned around to face him, and he greeted you with a wry smile as you reached him.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" he asked.

"Joel," you replied coolly, matching his tone. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"It's always good to keep an eye on the competition," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. "I was hoping we could talk," you said instead, lowering your voice. "Privately."

Joel raised an eyebrow but nodded. He excused himself from his group and led you to a quieter corner of the room. The ambient noise of the conference faded slightly, giving you a semblance of privacy.

"Alright, what's this about?" he asked, his tone more serious now.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. "Our companies are in trouble, Joel.”

He widens his eyes at you, surprised.

“Yes, I know your company is in trouble, Joel. and we need to merge if we want to survive."

Joel's expression hardened, with a flicker of skepticism in his eyes. "You know as well as I do that your father will never agree to that."

"I'm aware," you admitted, your voice steady. "But I also know that you're smart enough to see the potential benefits. We need to find a way to make this work."

He studied you for a moment, his gaze intense. "And how do you propose we convince our fathers to set aside their differences and agree to this merger?"

Before you could answer, a waiter approached with a tray of champagne flutes. You each took one, the pause giving you a moment to gather your thoughts.

"We'll need to present a united front," you said finally. "Show them that we're serious and that this is the best option for both companies."

Joel took a sip of his champagne, considering your words. "And how do you suggest we do that?"

Your mind raced, searching for a solution that would make your proposal more palatable to your father. The idea came to you suddenly, reckless and desperate, but it was the only one that seemed even remotely feasible.

"We tell them we're having a baby," you said, the words rushing out before you could second-guess yourself.

Joel choked on his champagne, his eyes wide with shock. "What?!"

"It's not true, of course," you hurriedly explained. "But if they believe it, it might just be enough to make them put aside their differences and agree to the merger."

You held your breath as Joel's reaction sank in. His wide-eyed shock was exactly what you had expected, though it didn't make it any easier to withstand.

"It's the only way they'll take us seriously," you explained quickly, your voice low but urgent. "If they think there's a future together—both personally and professionally—they'll have no choice but to consider the merger."

Joel wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, disbelief still etched on his face. "You're suggesting we lie about something as serious as a baby? Do you have any idea how insane that sounds?"

"I know it's drastic," you admitted, stepping closer to ensure no one could overhear. "But think about it. They'd be forced to put aside their grudges for the sake of a grandchild. And once the merger is complete, we can come clean. By then, it will be too late to undo anything."

He stared at you, the intensity of his gaze making your heart pound in your chest. "And what if they find out before then? What if they never forgive us for the deception?"

You shrugged, trying to seem more confident than you felt. "It's a risk, yes. But it's a risk we have to take if we want to save our companies."

Joel ran a hand through his hair, his eyes never leaving yours. You could see the wheels turning in his mind as he weighed the pros and cons of your reckless plan. Finally, he sighed, a mixture of frustration and reluctant agreement in his expression.

"Alright," he said slowly. "We'll do it your way. But this better work, or we'll both end up paying for this."

You nodded, the weight of Joel's reluctant agreement settling over you. "Thank you, Joel. I promise, this will work."

He glanced around the room, ensuring no one was eavesdropping. "So, what's our next move?"

"We need to act fast," you replied. "We'll call a meeting with both our fathers and present the news together. We have to be completely united in this."

Joel's eyes narrowed. “And how is your father going to act when he finds out I touched his daughter?” he asked.

You took a deep breath, recognizing the concern in Joel's question. "I know my father is protective," you admitted, "but that's why we need to handle this delicately. We need to present a united front and show them that this decision is ours, not something forced upon us."

Joel's eyes remained fixed on you, the intensity of his gaze making your heart pound. "And what if he reacts badly?”

"That's a risk we have to take," you replied firmly. "But if we approach this with honesty and determination, they'll see that we are serious about our future—both personal and professional. They might be angry at first, but eventually they'll come around."

Joel sighed, rubbing his temples. "You’re a fucking child, and so stupid.”

Joel’s harsh words stung, but you squared your shoulders and met his gaze steadily. "Maybe I am," you said quietly, "but I’m willing to take this risk because I believe it’s the right thing to do. For our companies, for our future."

He looked at you for a long moment, frustration etched on his face, but something else too—perhaps a grudging respect for your determination. "Fine," he muttered finally. "We'll do it your way. But don’t expect me to protect you if this blows up in our faces."

"I don’t need your protection," you replied, your voice steady. "I need your cooperation."

Joel's eyes flickered with something that might have been respect, but he quickly masked it with a scowl. "Alright, then," he said, his voice resigned but firm. "Let's get this over with."

The following evening, you arranged a dinner meeting with both fathers at an upscale restaurant, choosing a private room to avoid any public scenes. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation and unspoken tension as you and Joel waited for your fathers to arrive.

When your father entered, his eyes immediately narrowed upon seeing Joel. "What is he doing here?" he demanded.

"Please, Dad, sit down," you said calmly. "We have something important to discuss."

Mr. Miller arrived shortly after; his expression equally grim. "This better be good," he said, his tone icy.

Joel and you exchanged a brief, reassuring glance before addressing the room. "Dad, Mr. Miller, we have some news that will affect both our families and our companies," Joel began. "We need you to listen with an open mind."

Your father crossed his arms, suspicion evident in his eyes. "Get on with it."

You took a deep breath, bracing yourself. "Joel and I... we’re having a baby."

The reaction was immediate. Your father's face turned a deep shade of red, his eyes widening in shock and anger. "What did you just say?" he thundered.

Mr. Miller's expression was a mix of disbelief and confusion. "This better not be some kind of joke."

"It's not a joke," you said firmly, trying to maintain your composure. "Joel and I are expecting a child. We understand this is unexpected, but we believe this is an opportunity for both our families and companies to come together."

Your father's hands clenched into fists, his voice shaking with fury. "You...you betrayed me. With him."

"Dad, please," you pleaded. "Think about the future. Our child deserves a stable, united family. And our companies need to work together to survive."

You still had no idea of the phantoms your father withe

Mr. Miller, though still shocked, seemed to be processing the information more rationally. "If what you're saying is true, then perhaps we need to reconsider our priorities. For the sake of the future."

Your father glared at him. "You're willing to forgive and forget just like that?"

Mr. Miller met his gaze steadily. "For the sake of a grandchild and the future of our companies, yes. We need to find a way to move forward."

The room fell silent, the tension palpable. Finally, your father exhaled, his shoulders sagging in defeat. "Fine. For now, we'll discuss this further. But know this: if either of you are lying, there will be consequences."

You nodded, the weight of your father's warning settling heavily on your shoulders. "Thank you, Dad. We promise this is for the best."

Joel gave your hand a reassuring squeeze, his grip firm but gentle. "We'll make this work, Sir. I promise."

The tension in the room remained thick, but the initial storm of emotions had passed. The fathers exchanged a few more guarded words, agreeing to meet again to discuss the logistics of a potential merger. As they stood to leave, your father pulled you aside, his face a mix of worry and anger.

"I hope you know what you're doing," he said quietly. "This isn't just about business. It's your life, too."

"I know, Dad," you replied softly. "But I believe this is the right choice. For all of us."

With a reluctant nod, he let you go, and you watched as both fathers left the room, the weight of their expectations pressing down on you.

Joel turned to you, his expression a mix of relief and residual frustration. "Well, that went...better than expected."

You managed a small smile. "Yeah. Now we just have to figure out how to make this convincing."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Please don’t say we need to spend more time together”

Joel's words hung in the air; his frustration evident. You took a deep breath, trying to maintain your composure. "I know this isn't ideal," you said gently, "but we need to make this believable. Our fathers need to see that we're serious."

Joel rubbed his temples, a look of resignation on his face. “They know how babies are made, but fine.” he muttered. "What's the plan?"

"We need to start spending time together publicly," you explained. "Go to events, be seen together, and show that we're committed. We also need to have private moments where our fathers can see us interacting genuinely."

Joel looked at you, his expression softening slightly. "Alright. But let's make this as painless as possible."

You nodded in agreement. "We'll keep it professional and focused on the goal. We don't have to be best friends, but we need to convince them that we're building something real."

“But please, don’t make it public” he begged. “I need to sort some things out first”

You recognized the seriousness in Joel's tone and nodded, understanding his request. "Of course," you replied softly. "We'll keep it low-key for now. Just focus on sorting things out on your end, and when you're ready, we can gradually start making our relationship more public."

The next day, you found yourself immersed in a crucial meeting, discussing the finer details of the potential merger with key stakeholders. Despite the weight of the situation, you maintained your composure and focused on the task at hand.

As the meeting progressed, an urgent knock echoed through the door, interrupting the discussion. You glanced up, surprised to see Joel standing in the doorway, his expression stormy.

"Joel, what are you doing here?" you asked, your voice tinged with concern.

He strode into the room, his jaw clenched with barely contained anger. "We need to talk," he said tersely, his gaze fixed on you.

Sensing the gravity of the situation, you excused yourself from the meeting, motioning for Joel to follow you to your office. The tension in the air was palpable as you closed the door behind you, bracing yourself for whatever news had prompted Joel's unexpected visit.

"What's wrong?" you asked, your voice laced with apprehension.

Joel paced the room, his frustration evident in every movement. "Your father," he began, his voice tight with anger. "He's made the news public. He's announcing our supposed relationship to the world."

Shock rippled through you at the revelation. "What? But we agreed to keep it low-key until you were ready."

Joel's expression darkened. "Clearly, your father had other plans. He's blindsided us, and now our private arrangement is splashed across every news outlet."

Your heart sank as you processed the implications of your father's actions. "I can't believe he would do this," you muttered, a mix of disbelief and betrayal washing over you.

Joel stopped pacing, his gaze locking on yours. "You need to deal with this now!” he said, pointing at you.

"Okay, what's so wrong?" you asked, trying to maintain a calm demeanor despite the rising panic within you.

Joel's eyes bore into yours; his frustration was palpable. "Do you realize what this means? Our private agreement is all out in the open now. We're going to be scrutinized and judged, and God knows what else."

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing thoughts. "I understand the gravity of the situation, Joel. But you can't panic. We need to think rationally and come up with a plan to handle this."

He scoffed with a bitter edge to his tone. "And what plan do you propose? The damage is done. We need to contain this before it spirals out of control."

"Why are you asking so crazily about it?" you questioned, a hint of confusion in your voice. "We're in this together, Joel. We need to focus on finding a solution."

Joel's frustration seemed to reach a boiling point as he paced the room, his movements tense and agitated. "Because," he finally spat out, his voice laced with bitterness, "I have a girlfriend, and she's not too pleased about being dragged into this mess."

Shock washed over you as his words sank in. "Wait, what? You have a girlfriend?"

He shot you a withering look, his anger barely contained. "Yes, I have a girlfriend," he snapped. "And she's not exactly thrilled about the fact that I'm supposedly having a baby with you, of all people."

The revelation hit you like a punch to the gut. You had never considered the possibility that Joel might be involved with someone else. The realization that you had unwittingly become entangled in his personal life only added to the chaos of the situation.

"I had no idea," you murmured, feeling a surge of guilt wash over you. "I'm so sorry, Joel. I never meant for any of this to happen."

He scoffed, his expression filled with scorn. "Well, it did happen. And now we're both in this mess, thanks to your brilliant idea.”

He scoffed with a bitter edge to his tone. "And what plan do you propose? The damage is done. We need to contain this before it spirals out of control."

"Why are you asking so crazily about it?" you questioned, a hint of confusion in your voice. "We're in this together, Joel. We need to focus on finding a solution."

Shock washed over you as his words sank in. "Wait, what? You have a girlfriend?"

He shot you a withering look, his anger barely contained. "Yes, I have a girlfriend," he snapped. "And she's not exactly thrilled about the fact that I'm supposedly in a fake relationship with you, of all people."

You swallowed hard, the weight of Joel's words settling heavily on your shoulders. "I understand," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I never meant to cause any harm, Joel. I thought…”

“You didn’t think! That’s the problem." He snapped, “You’re a spoiled woman, just as I always thought, and you don’t care about anything or anyone.”

Joel's words cut deep, slicing through your defenses like a razor-sharp blade. The accusation stung, and you felt a surge of pain and frustration rise within you.

"I do care, Joel," you protested, your voice shaking with emotion. "I care about our companies and about our futures. I thought I was doing what was necessary to save them."

He scoffed; his expression hardened with resentment. "Save them? You're willing to sacrifice anything and anyone to get what you want, aren't you? Including my relationship, my life?"

Tears welled up in your eyes, a mixture of guilt and anguish clouding your vision. "No, that's not true," you whispered, your voice trembling. "I never wanted to hurt you, Joel. I never wanted any of this."

He shook his head, his anger simmering just beneath the surface. "Don’t you dare to cry when you were the one who came up with this idea?”

Joel's words hit you like a punch to the gut, intensifying the ache of guilt and regret that had already weighed heavily on you. His anger was palpable, his frustration tangible, and you felt utterly defenseless in the face of his accusation.

"I'm sorry," you choked out, your voice barely above a whisper. "I never meant for any of this to happen. I never wanted to hurt you or anyone else."

His expression softened slightly, but the anger still smoldered in his eyes. "I know," he said, his voice gentler now. “I’m sorry for talking to you that way... It’s just... this girl; I haven’t felt this way about someone, and I don’t want to lose it because of you.”

Tension hung heavy in the air as Joel's words lingered between you. The raw honesty in his confession took you aback, softening the edges of your own guilt and remorse.

"I understand," you replied, your voice tinged with empathy. "I never intended to come between you and anyone else. I just wanted to do what was best for our companies."

Joel nodded, a sense of resignation settling over him. "I know," he murmured, his gaze drifting to the floor. "But we're in this mess now, and we need to figure out how to fix it."

You nodded in agreement, a shared determination filling the space between you. "We'll find a way," you promised, reaching out to place a hand on his arm. "Together."

As your hand made contact with Joel's arm, you both felt a sudden jolt of electricity shoot through the air, a tangible spark igniting between you. His gaze lifted from the floor to meet yours, and in that moment, you both sensed a shift in the atmosphere.

Joel's expression softened a flicker of something unreadable dancing in his eyes. For a brief moment, the world's weight seemed to lift from your shoulders as you stood there, connected by a string that threatened to pull the both of you together.

´+

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frozenjokes · 2 days

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The Art Of Being Kidnapped [1/2]

next / Ao3 link with CWs

“Byeeee! Have a nice time!” Tango’s cheery lilt echoed across the icy cavern before the metal door, built like a vault, slammed shut. A superhero Jimmy didn’t recognize rolled across the slick floor, momentum from being thrown inside carrying him a considerable distance. Sometimes Jimmy forgot Tango was quite strong; certainly not the beefiest among his line of work, but enough to send a small avian skidding across the floor of his dungeon.

The avian’s wings and hands were bound, just like Jimmy’s were, but the ropes were only meant to last for travel, and sure enough, within minutes of writhing and foaming at the mouth on the ground (which he didn’t have to do, his legs weren’t bound..), the superhero was free, flying to the door and slamming the full force of his body against it, predictably, winding himself immediately.

Jimmy stifled a laugh as the avian stumbled backwards with a heaving chest, falling into a sit to catch his breath. It was a wonder he hadn’t noticed Jimmy yet, but then again, the particularly angry superheroes always took a bit more time. Unfortunate. Jimmy hoped this guy wasn’t as much of an asshole as he looked (after many years of this, Jimmy got pretty good at figuring out who he was dealing with relatively fast), but if that was the case, Jimmy was sure he could needle a larger tip out of Tango in the case that this guy really gave him trouble. This was an unusual job in the first place; Jimmy had never been asked to trap participants in a maze before, then supervise while they traversed it. But Decked Out was fun and Tango paid handsomely, so really, Jimmy didn’t mind the change of pace.

“Help?” Jimmy tried, though the hero didn’t hear him over his own banging on the door and ferocious screeching. He got a sense of dejavu watching, though he’d seen this kind of temper tantrum about a thousand times by now. Still, the familiarity of this hero was something he couldn’t quite shake.

“Hey! Help me? Please?” Jimmy wiggled a little pathetically against his restraints, far from tight, but enough not to slip out without effort. Personally, Jimmy would rather save his energy for the hero.

The avian turned, then froze where he stood, like the guy he was called to come save was the last thing he expected to see at his feet. Jimmy suppressed a sigh. This guy was going to be insufferable.

“JIMMY!?”

Jimmy stopped. Now, that sort of reaction wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for heroes that knew him, but Jimmy had never seen this one before, so unless this guy had been warned (something which, hilariously, never seemed to be the case), Jimmy didn’t know what to do with that. But the avian didn’t sound angry.. Oh, worse idea, Jimmy used to know this person. Not the least bit unlikely given he attended the shittiest college in the city with all the poorest, most troubled kids around. Jimmy hadn’t even lasted long enough to get a degree, it was just too much. Hence the work he did now.

Exactly what that was..? Well, when people asked what he did for work, he usually answered freelance. Freelance kidnapping? Freelance being kidnapped? He was still working on the title. Needless to say, living in a place like this you learn pretty quickly that 90% of the ‘superheroes’ and the villains they fight are either cripplingly insecure, pieces of shit, or both, but sometimes the wannabe villains have a bit of an attention craving they just can’t scratch on their own. It turns out that Doing Evil can be a lot of work, and sometimes you just want to take out your daddy issues on an equally unstable individual under the guise of villainy without all the fuss! So for a price, Jimmy makes the fuss for them! He’ll scream, let himself be dramatically carried away, shoved into an unmarked van, generally manhandled- whatever gets the attention of an unsuspecting superhero who Jimmy would then lead into a trap, arena, whatever he’s getting paid for, and bam! Everyone’s happy!

Some villains didn’t even want the attention of superheroes, they just enjoyed catching Jimmy off his guard, which, by the way, was not part of any of his contracts, but Joel wasn’t going to stop Kidnapping First, Paying Later anytime soon, so at this point it was just a fact of his life he had to get used to.

Oh right, the job he was doing right now.

“Do I know you?” These words seemed to snap the hero back in his facade, the avian shifting his weight in a show of nerves.

“I- no, I don’t think so. No, no, definitely not. Probably not. Sorry. Just reminded me of someone I know.”

Jimmy snorted, rolling his eyes. “Someone called Jimmy? That’s my name too, what a coincidence.”

“You don’t have a brother, do you?” The hero looked sheepish, but it was good natured, a ghost of a smile just visible under his mask.

“Oh yeah, I’ve got one. He looks exactly like me and’s called Jimmy, how did you know?”

Ther hero crossed his arms in a sweeping gesture, snarking with a scoff, “Oh shut it with the sarcasm,” but even though the tone behind his voice was teasing, Jimmy felt like he had been transported right back to his college dorm. He recognized that. He knew exactly who this was. Short, dirty blonde avian with dark talons and a darker temper? Of course he became a superhero, what a damn perfect fit for a guy like that. ‘JIMMY?’ He recognized that too. The scream, pitched in all the worst ways. After a while, every word Grian spoke was like pulling a cheese grater over and over across his ears until they were nothing but stumps. Yeah, Tango would be tipping him big today.

“Jimmy? You okay?” The direct address snapped Jimmy back to reality, though he wasn’t sure how much he had missed. Regardless, Grian did get to work, kneeling to undo his restraints. Jimmy was relieved to stretch his wings, slowly getting to his feet once the ropes were cut. “This is embarrassing,” Grian said, and Jimmy was sure it was, “Forget I said anything. I think we shared a class or two, that’s all.”

“I get it.” Jimmy mumbled, tucking his wings back. “Tango’s been sending out all sorts of reports and notices to trick people into coming out here, so it’s your lucky day I guess. You won’t be staying long though, he just wants you to run the dungeon and then you can fly off.”

Grian’s eyes were obscured by the mask, but Jimmy was pretty sure they narrowed. “I’ve never heard of a ‘Tango’ before. Who is he? How long have you been here? Is he just keeping you here as bait?” How sweet of Grian to not realize he’s been set up yet. Well, Jimmy wasn’t about to break the news if he didn’t have to.

“He keeps a low profile. Tango’s been shut in working on this place for the last fifteen years, so I’m not surprised you haven’t heard of him, especially since the location is so out of the way of the city. Decked Out is newly finished- it’s a game, basically. He wants to watch people play it. It’s not what you’d call ‘up to code’ though, so it’s pretty dangerous. Need the athletic sort to make it any bit interesting. But yeah, I’m bait.” Jimmy shrugged, “He keeps me around to explain the rules. Usually the kidnappee, you, is a little more receptive to someone on their level, me, rather than.. y’know.”

“I’ll get you out of here.”

Jimmy laughed, he couldn’t help himself, though he quieted when he saw the bottom half of Grian’s face screw up, bracing himself to be yelled at. It never came.

“I’ve heard that before,” Jimmy settled on instead, taking a careful breath. He didn’t like the way Grian was looking at him. He never really liked the way Grian looked at him; despite his softer features, Grian’s face was anything but kind.

“Well I’m sure you’ve heard this before as well, but I’m different. I do my due diligence unlike most of the douchebags in this town. Where’s the way out?”

Stubborn. Vindictive. Jimmy wondered if Grian had changed at all in the dozen years since they’d talked. He shrugged. “The gate isn’t open yet, but it should be ready soon. Until then, what should I call you?”

Grian blinked. “Oh- CuteGuy. You can call me CuteGuy.”

“Well then, CuteGuy, once you go in you’re going to get a compass-“ Jimmy stopped short at yelling from down the hall, Grian as well freezing in his place.

“UNHAND ME AT ONCE! I SWEAR if you singe my uniform I am SENDING YOU THE BILL!” Oh! Well that was a lovely surprise. Jimmy heard Tango grumble something in response, but he was mostly drowned out by HotGuy’s dramatics. Good man HotGuy was, always making sure to give those supervillains what they paid for, though, Tango wasn’t exactly looking for a fight.

At once Grian was on his toes, creeping toward the door, but Jimmy shook his head. “I would stand back.”

‘Tango breathes fire’ was left unsaid when Grian shot him a sharp glare, not listening of course, and Jimmy wasn’t about to fight him, perfectly content to watch Grian get a face full of flame as Tango swung the door open. Grian reeled back with a startled yelp, but Jimmy doubted he was actually too hurt, not when Tango was skilled in controlling the temperature of his fire. His eyes would certainly sting though; deserved, certainly, for thinking Tango wouldn’t be ready for an attack. Idiot.

In the wake of the flame, a thoroughly netted HotGuy was pushed inside, decidedly much heavier than an avian and therefore unthrowable, but HotGuy didn’t seem to mind, struggling valiantly until the metal door slammed shut, Tango continuing to grumble from the other side as he walked down the hall.

“Jimmy!” HotGuy threw up his arms, a gesture hindered by the net. Jimmy snorted, moving to help HotGuy out while he continued to blabber on, “I was hoping you’d be here! It’s been a while dude, how’ve you been? Still going strong?” HotGuy didn’t even wait until the net was entirely untangled to try and stand, movement that made everything needlessly difficult, but Jimmy didn’t mind. Though he didn’t get the chance to respond either when HotGuy screamed, practically jumping into Jimmy’s arms.

“CuteGuy! How long have you been there, standing all stiff and puffed up and angry like a miniature gargoyle, look at you!”

Grian did, in fact, look like a puffed up cat, but HotGuy’s comment snapped him out of his frozen state, shooting back with a huff, “Miniature? How big do you think gargoyles are?”

“I mean, probably pretty big! Protecting stuff and all.”

Grian sighed sharply, a sound that set Jimmy’s feathers on end. But Grian didn’t push back, changing the subject. “You two.. know each other?”

HotGuy jumped to his toes, eyes absolutely radiant as he turned to Jimmy. “He doesn’t know?” his tone was colored with excitement, and Jimmy had to laugh, shaking his head.

“Know what?” Grian snapped at HotGuy, sucking away all the joy from the air, “What don’t I know?” Jimmy couldn’t stop himself from whirling around, an aggressive movement that seemed to catch Grian off guard, surprise clear in his raised wings, but Jimmy stopped himself, shaking his head. Not worth the fight. HotGuy looked confused by the rise in tension, bringing Jimmy back down to Earth.

“I doubt anyone else will come,” he said instead, stony, “I rarely get two at once. The gates should open soon.”

Grian. God. Jimmy should be over this by now. He thought he was over it.

Jimmy was a sociable guy. Making friends wasn’t a chore for him, but keeping them was much harder, and finding perfect fits seemed nearly impossible. Oftentimes he felt very out of place. He was an athletic sort of person, sporty, but a lot more sensitive than most guys. He really enjoyed being in shape, the structure of practice and working out, but he didn’t always love the social aspect of playing competitive sports, and college football wasn’t an exception. Too much pressure, too much toeing the line of people he wanted to associate with, and don’t get him wrong, these guys were his brothers, that’s just how the intensity of college sports worked, but Jimmy never felt able to be wholly.. there. They just weren’t exactly right, not warm enough, not free enough with their interests and hobbies and love.

Grian was his randomly assigned roommate for the first semester of college dorm life, and like most people Grian was pretty reserved in the beginning. Didn’t have many friends, kept to himself, but liked to go to the dining hall and such with Jimmy if for no other reason than to have someone to go with. Grian was chatty once you got him going, and weird, unabashedly odd in all the best kinds of ways. They didn’t have many common interests, but talking with Grian made Jimmy want to check out the things he was into, to understand all his incredibly specific rants and takes on topics Jimmy had zero knowledge of. Grian was fun, a little shy at first, but genuinely delightful to listen to, confident in his opinions in the way that put you on board even when you had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. He was charming! He was kind of cool in a way, the dorky kind of cool. The ‘cringe is dead and Grian killed it’ kind of way.

But even on his best behavior, Grian was always so.. angry. It changed the atmosphere of every room he entered, thick and boggy like wading through swamp water. There was just something wrong with him, like, literally wrong, the type of wrongness that sparks concern, that makes you wonder what happened? The type of wrongness that makes an outsider want to meet you with compassion, to help you, to make your miserable world a little bit less drab.

The delusions of a savior complex, really. But at first it wasn’t that bad. Grian was mostly reclusive, but despite a bit of awkwardness, he was surprisingly socially adept, charming and funny when it came to first impressions and relatively skilled at being liked by his peers. But the warning signs were there. The constant balling of his fists when the smallest thing didn’t go his way, the twitch of his strained smile, his always-tense shoulders. Grian seemed to view every social interaction like it was war, and he’d do anything to win. It was like he knew how pervasively unpleasant he was inside, how bubbling negativity coated his insides like black tar. He needed to be competitive. He needed to be on top.

And somewhere along the line Grian had decided Jimmy was the enemy.

Jimmy didn’t know what he’d done to make Grian hate him so much. Was it the positivity? Jimmy had tried to offset the stream of anger with his own suggestions; maybe she was late for class, maybe the sun was in his eyes, maybe they just missed the trash can and didn’t notice- He hadn’t been trying to challenge Grian, he didn’t even believe half of the excuses he spouted whenever Grian whined or complained about something entirely inconsequential, he just wanted his ex-roommate to realize that not everyone was personally out to get him, y’know?

How Grian decided Jimmy was one of those people working against him, Jimmy had no idea. Sometimes Jimmy thought that Grian was psychotic, like, literally in the Very Mentally Unwell sense of the word. He was just so.. defensive. Paranoid. Mean, and not always on purpose, he would just say things that dug at Jimmy’s patience until he was constantly teetering on the edge of snapping back and really making a mess of things.

Most of the time though, when Grian was mean, it was on purpose. At some point early on Grian had decided he couldn’t trust Jimmy, and god Jimmy spent so much time trying to earn that trust back just to be slighted over and over- petty things, constant criticism over the slang he used, the music he listened to- god forbid Jimmy forget something in the dorm or come back a little late from a bar after Grian had gone to sleep.

And the worst thing was, Jimmy wanted to help him! He still wanted to help Grian after months and months of being mistreated. He wanted to be a friend to someone who clearly needed some sort of support in a city that was run dry of resources for even those who could afford them. Jimmy wasn’t stupid. He’d grown up on the edge of poverty like so many of his peers, worked to help pay his parents’ debts since he was first able. He’d watched high school classmates do the same, fall to drinking or drugs, die before they even hit 18. He spent so much time being afraid for Grian, intrusive imaginings of how he might die young haunting boring lectures. Oftentimes he’d be overwhelmed by those anxieties, intense impulses sending him sprinting back to the dorm, throwing the door open certain of what he’d find, just to see Grian in his lofted bed, headphones in, glaring at his phone. Sometimes Grian would look up, meet Jimmy’s frightened eyes, then look back down. Sometimes he’d be ignored altogether. Sometimes.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in class?”

Grian knew Jimmy’s schedule by heart, memorized before even Jimmy had it down. Oftentimes, Jimmy found that Grian would get quite upset, if either of their schedules were changed last minute. If Jimmy showed up somewhere he wasn’t supposed to be when Grian wasn’t expecting it.

That made bouts like this all the more embarrassing. Grian wanted an answer. Jimmy didn’t want to know what he’d say if he heard Jimmy was worried about him for no reason. So he lied. He always lied.

“I forgot. I’ll go now.”

Grian would scoff. “Idiot.” Jimmy heard that a lot. Stupid. Dumbass. Idiot. The like.

Jimmy wasn’t stupid.

But the harder Jimmy tried, the more Jimmy pushed, the more vindictively abusive Grian became. That first semester of college were some of the worst months of Jimmy’s life. Trapped in a dorm room not much bigger than a prison cell with a guy who went out of his way to find fault with every singular thing Jimmy did. You’re so loud Jim, you’re so damn loud. That was his main complaint. As much as Jimmy loathed Grian’s voice, the other seemed to despise his own tenfold whether Jimmy was singing, talking on the phone, or simply speaking to friends while playing games, Grian had these physical reactions like he wanted to tear off his own skin. By the end of the semester, both of them sat on their sides of the room in complete silence.

Jimmy didn’t see HotGuy coming when the hero launched forward for a hug, a gesture Jimmy returned with a laugh as HotGuy squeezed, picking him up and spinning him around. At this point, Jimmy had accepted HotGuy had way too much energy to spend doing anything else, and honestly, he couldn’t say he minded. It was nice to have someone be so excited to see him.

“How long has it been? Over a year, surely!” HotGuy practically sang right into Jimmy’s ear, and Jimmy couldn’t help the dry thought of how much Grian must hate HotGuy from slipping through. “I missed you! You’ve got to come by more often, come on, work can’t be that hard to come by in the big city, huh?”

Jimmy wheezed a bit under HotGuy’s grip, tapping his shoulder somewhat urgently, “Okay, bud. Can’t breathe. Time to put me down, big man. And yeah, work can be that bad when everyone knows who you are. Sorry!”

“I’m feeling out of the loop here,” Grian cut in, but to Jimmy’s own sick delight, HotGuy didn’t even acknowledge the other hero, focus entirely on Jimmy.

“So what’s it this time? We busting you out? Dramatic chase? Explosions? Actually, I would rather not get blown up. But this guy’s got a fire thing going on, is stuff going to explode?”

“You’re not busting me out,” Jimmy waved HotGuy off when the other lingered a little too long in his personal bubble, “There’s an exit at the end of the game whether you win or lose, but since you’re going in one at a time, there won’t be any-“

THE DUNGEON IS READY FOR ITS NEXT VICTIM

The gate ahead began to churn open and cool air whooshed through, particles of ice and snow dusting the path ahead. Jimmy laughed off HotGuy’s mortified looking expression, uncomfortably avoiding Grian’s eye. He didn’t imagine a trapped Grian was a very pleasant one, and given the loaded silence as Jimmy started toward the open door, he got the sense Grian was thinking quite intensely. Jimmy had zero desire to know what was going on in that head.

“Come on,” he said, forcing a smile to a wary looking HotGuy, “It’s not too bad. I’ll grab you both your compasses and give the rundown. You’ll have to leave that bow though, sorry. It’ll be returned to you later.” HotGuy blinked back to attention, scrambling a little to catch up while Grian stayed at the rear, quiet.

“I have to leave my bow? Are you sure? I don’t know if I like the sound of the uh- dungeon. Do I get anything to defend myself? What’s down there?”

“Tango’s dogs are down there. You don’t want to shoot Tango’s dogs, do you HotGuy? Those are his pets!”

“Well-“ HotGuy looked flustered, like a guy who probably would want to shoot Tango’s dogs, but didn’t want Jimmy to know that. There was a reason Jimmy didn’t outright say Tango’s dogs were actually ravagers. “Alright, but do Tango’s dogs eat people?”

“They might shake you around a bit, but no, they won’t eat you. Plenty of people have gone through the dungeon plenty of times, lost, and hopped right back in. It’s meant to be played over and over, you’ll be fine.”

“And it’s the only way out?” Grian’s voice sliced the air, hard and focused, and Jimmy nearly jumped at the sound. Everything sounded so critical out of his mouth.

“You think I’d lie?” Jimmy couldn’t crush down the snark as he side-eyed Grian behind him, but Grian’s expression barely shifted, his wings only lowering slightly.

“I didn’t-“

“Wellllll,” HotGuy cut in unhelpfully, missing the tension as he wrapped a playful arm around Jimmy’s shoulder.

“Okay-“ Grian shook his head, hands brushing his face in loose fists, “What is going on with you two.”

“Nothing! Nothing!” HotGuy jumped up and away, instead falling back to walk with Grian, getting in his space and tousling his hair. The casual movement made Jimmy freeze in place, but Grian only squeaked, batting at HotGuy with palmed hands, careful not to catch the other’s skin with his talons. For a moment Grian met Jimmy’s eye, and then it was over, HotGuy grabbing at his hands and wrestling him without a single care in the world.. Whatever.

Warily, Jimmy left them to do their thing. He didn’t feel good about it- actually, he felt a lot like he was leaving HotGuy with a ticking time bomb, but he did have to get their compasses, so might as well go while Grian was in a good(?) mood. What a novel concept that was. Jimmy sighed, zipping up his coat as he stepped into a side room.

For a long moment he considered giving Grian a Level 2 compass, but that wouldn’t really be plausible, and honestly Grian probably wouldn’t make it out of Level 1 anyway. Tango wouldn’t be happy either; his focus was on testing how new players reacted to the game, and anything beyond Level 1 would probably be overwhelming.

Hm. Would Tango let Jimmy into the tunnels to watch Grian’s run while HotGuy was still in the waiting room? Jimmy would really love nothing more than to watch Grian scream and run around and eat shit on the icy paths, but Tango wouldn’t want HotGuy unsupervised, so it probably wouldn’t happen. Unless Jimmy sent HotGuy in first.. Surely the few extra minutes spent with Grian would be worth it. Yeah, no, that would be good. He’d give HotGuy an easy artifact spot so he’d either win or be carried out by a ravager quickly, then send Grian deep into Level 1. Yes. Perfect.

“Is this it?” HotGuy asked when Jimmy returned, fingers curled around the bars of the gate that separated the three of them from the dungeon. Grian was looking as well, though more intensely, head pressed against the bars like he wanted to gather as much information as humanly possible. Jimmy couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

“Yeah,” he started, slipping into his prepared speech, “So basically, the point of the game is to find an artifact hidden in the dungeon, then bring it back to the start without getting caught by Tango’s dogs. The artifact placement is random, but your compass will help you find them; they point in the direction of a hidden panel on the floor. Once you find the panel, press your compass to the spot and it will be exchanged for an artifact. Then bring it back here.”

“How do we start?” Grian turned, eager, or maybe just antsy as he eyed the compasses in Jimmy’s hands.

“Not yet, and you’ll go one at a time, HotGuy first.” Though Grian didn’t look satisfied, and in a panicked gesture to appease him, Jimmy added, “Here, both of you can take these and once you’re ready you’ll press the bottom to the indent over on the panel by the gate,” Jimmy handed the compasses over gingerly, HotGuy taking it with curious fingers and Grian outright snatching it out of Jimmy’s hand, but before Jimmy could recoil or even react, Grian was on top of the panel, slamming his compass in before whirling around and grabbing Jimmy’s hand in a vice grip.

“I’m getting you out of here. Come on, HotGuy! Let’s get this over with.”

Jimmy’s mouth ran dry as the gate screeched open, only managing to squeak out a “One at a time!” before he was yanked forward, HotGuy cheering behind him. Jimmy nearly tumbled down the steps as Grian bolted into the maze, struggling to catch his tongue enough to form words. “This really isn’t necessary!”

“We’re going to save you, Jimmy!” HotGuy sang, oblivious to his distress, “Don’t worry a hair on your silly little head, with us you’ll be out of here in no time!” HotGuy winked and Jimmy didn’t get the chance to groan, far more preoccupied with Grian’s refusal to let go, and only having the mind to struggle out of his grip as the gate shuddered to a close.

“The game isn’t- guys-“ Jimmy stumbled back to the gate, but it would not be reopening any time soon. “The game isn’t meant to be played with three people! I don’t even have a compass! You need an artifact to get out!”

“Sounds to me like you only need one,” Grian said, perfectly unconcerned despite the new danger, not that he knew the ravagers were around, “I’m sure all three of us can scoot out at once if we’re quick, and if this ‘Tango’ tries to do anything about it, there’ll be two of us to keep you safe.” Jimmy didn’t even get the chance to respond to that before Grian clicked his tongue, “HotGuy, give me your compass.”

“Why? What if I want it?” HotGuy smirked and Grian scoffed, hopping forward to snatch it from him. HotGuy stepped out of the way and held it high out of Grian’s reach, causing the other to squawk and ultimately slip on the ice when he jumped to grab it. Jimmy found himself flinching when HotGuy laughed in Grian’s face, but the hero’s joy quickly turned to a shrill yelp as Grian leapt on him, clambering up his body with the compass in his sights. Unfortunately, the added weight unbalanced HotGuy on the ice and sent both of them tumbling to the ground. Certainly within Grian’s reach, the avian lunging for his prize and rolling out of range of a possible retaliation before getting to his feet.

“Right then.” Grian examined both compasses with great scrutiny, walking a little ways in different directions and nearing corners Jimmy just hoped had a ravager behind them. But Grian was never punished for his lack of attention, never straying too far. In fairness, HotGuy was doing very little to be careful himself, struggling to keep his footing without the talons Jimmy and Grian had; Jimmy would have given him grips for his shoes, but someone was in a hurry. For himself he would have grabbed the fluffy socks Tango had made to help keep his feet from getting too cold, so that was just another thing to resent Grian for. (Grian would not get socks. He did not deserve them.)

“HotGuy’s artifact is closest, so we’re going there.”

“How’d you puzzle that out? Actually, I don’t care.” HotGuy shuffled closer, poking his head over Grian’s shoulder. HotGuy caught Jimmy’s eye, throwing him a narrowed eye smirk before wiggling his fingers and jumping on Grian, wrestling the screeching avian until they both slipped, a crushed Grian losing his grip on the compass and unable to reclaim it before HotGuy scrambled over him (both parties kicking and screaming) until he slid across the compass, grabbing it with both hands.

“If it’s my compass, I get to hold it!” HotGuy got to his knees, arm shooting into the air to brandish his prize.

Grian let his head hit the ice. “We are never getting to our location.”

Jimmy crossed his arms. “Hey, HotGuy gets around the city fine. He could be a great maze navigator.”

“Thank you!” With some struggle, HotGuy got back to his feet, the momentum sliding him back into a forked path where he promptly fell back on his ass.

“We are never getting to our location.”

“You just wait CuteGuy, I’m gonna..” but HotGuy trailed off, eyes blinking wide as he stared at something down the tunnel. Jimmy’s feathers rose as he heard the grunt, but Grian didn’t seem to understand, looking between the two of them with a confused expression before the ravager bulldozed down the hall, HotGuy having no time to run before he was bowled down the hall, “THAT’S NOT A DOG!”

Jimmy spun on his heel, but the noticeable absence of Grian made him turn back around, having to lunge to grab him before the idiot tried to fight a ravager on HotGuy’s behalf.

“Other direction!”

“HotGuy’s-“

“He’ll be fine. We need to go.” Jimmy didn’t give Grian the time to argue, grabbing his wrist and overpowering him when it came to dexterity on the ice. Grian squawked, but luckily ravagers were not sensitive to sound, extra lucky when they turned a corner directly into the face of another and Grian shrieked, nearly falling on his ass before Jimmy pulled him up and back in the right direction.

“Get out of its line of sight!”

Grian only continued to shriek in response. Great. But after dragging Grian kicking and screaming around a couple corners, the ravager got off their tails, grunting as its heavy hooves lumbered down another icy tunnel. Grian let himself slide to a stop once Jimmy let go of his wrist, drifting to a wall and sliding against it to sit on the rocky ground and catch his breath. Jimmy hardly stopped himself from rolling his eyes.

“They don’t have much object permanence,” he mumbled instead, “Poor hearing as well. Still, maybe try to stop screaming. There’s about five around on this floor, so at the very least we know where a few of them are. We should keep going.”

“There’s more than one floor?”

“Yes, but our artifacts are on Level 1. It’s not too bad. And if we’re quick, we might still be able to find HotGuy. The ravagers are trained to take someone out of the game once they’re sufficiently down for the count, which is usually about two hits. If HotGuy got away, his artifact is definitely easier, but Tango will take the compass if he’s down, so we have to find him quickly. I think I know where he’ll end up, but stay on your guard.

Grian was quiet for a moment, catching his breath, sure, but the silence seemed deeper than that. Grian was always an intense thinker, the kind of intensity that weighed the air.

“You’ve been in the dungeon before? Tango is putting civilians in here?” He sounded angry. Not surprising, really, but..

“Yeah,” Jimmy shrugged, struggling not to feel defensive, “Not that many though. One guy just won’t leave. It’s kind of a volunteer program.”

“You’re not a volunteer.”

Technically, this was true. Jimmy was being paid; to run the dungeon as well as lure superheroes into it, though he hadn’t run it since a ravager broke a rib on Level 2.

For a moment Jimmy thought about telling Grian the truth, ditching the ‘helplessly kidnapped’ act and putting everything out on the table so Grian would stop trying to rescue him and leave well enough alone. That way at the very least he could call for Tango who might let him leave through a maintenance tunnel and not have to continue with whatever the hell was happening here. Jimmy didn’t even get the chance to register a deck before they started! However, the thought was dismissed immediately, partially because they only had one compass. In the case that Tango decided to be petty, Jimmy was not about to throw himself into the tusks of a ravager, and he could fantasize all he wanted about throwing Grian to the wolves and stealing the compass for himself, but it just made more sense that they stuck together.

But there was the fear, too, far more persuasive than any sense, the kind of deep seeded instinct that would have Jimmy sprinting in the opposite direction rather than be alone with his college tormentor, look him in the eyes, and tell him he’d been deceived.

Grian always thought Jimmy was hiding something from him. There had been multiple instances of Grian rummaging through his things, not taking, just looking, but not quite putting things back where they had been before. It really messed with Jimmy’s head- what he was even looking for? Grian didn’t have money to spend, but even when Jimmy had left his valuables and cash unguarded, Grian never stole. Jimmy never knew Grian to want anything either; weed, alcohol, the like, but for the most part Jimmy didn’t keep any of that in the dorm, and Grian never expressed interest. Grian didn’t even borrow pens or notebook paper; Jimmy was pretty sure he’d rather die than ask for help in any form, but regardless, it drove Jimmy crazy just to have Grian rummaging through his shit and having no idea what he wanted.

“Hey, if you need anything man, you just let me know, alright? I’ve got extra school supplies if you need to borrow anything for exams,” Jimmy had said one night, testing the waters in the rare occurrence when Grian’s headphones were off.

Jimmy would never forget the look of distaste Grian threw him, head cocked and eyes dark and narrowed; Grian didn’t even have to say anything to hurt him most days. “No.”

And that was that.

He never dreamed of confronting Grian, no, Jimmy would never bare his hand to a cornered animal. But one thing was for certain, he kept his phone and laptop passwords close, changing them regularly. Anything remotely private he locked up in his closet while he was out, Grian’s eyes burning into his back, suspicious and untrusting. He always made Jimmy feel so afraid. He wasn’t hiding anything or whatever it was Grian had convinced himself Jimmy was doing, he just wanted to keep his privacy private. Jimmy still had a habit of hiding his things, squirreling them away in odd places even when he was living alone. He didn’t realize he was doing it most of the time, but at some point it was pointed out to him (“This is why you can never find anything Jimmy, who keeps their receipts under the blooming mattress!”), and Jimmy had no doubt where the habit came from.

Apparently Jimmy’s lack of answer to Grian’s question was enough of an answer to him. “I’m going to get you out of here.” Intense. Always so intense.

Jimmy had no desire to fight him. “Okay.”

#hermitcraft #hermitfic #cw: past abuse #tw: past abuse #jimmy solidarity #solidaritygaming #gtws #goodtimeswithscar #grian #tangotek #decked out #decked out 2 #hotguy #cuteguy

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